The final few weeks of my pregnancy with Seamus were marked by severe discomfort. Have you ever been so tired, that you don't even realize how tired you are? Young children find themselves in this state often, they get so tired that they're almost wound up. That was how I was, only with pain. I was in so much pain that I stopped noticing it. I just kept on going about my daily life, taking care of my three kids like I always had, because I had to. I wore Rowan on my back right up until the end. I grocery shopped and carried things up the stairs to my apartments until days before his birth.
I did this until fear set in. I was terrified that the pain I was in was keeping me from being able to go into labor, both physically and mentally. I was terrified that I was in so much pain already, how would I possibly be able to manage the pain of labor on top of it. So I made a decision. I had John make me an appointment with a chiropractor. I had never been to one in my life. I basically went in there and said "please do whatever you can do to put me into labor!" My first adjustment, at nine months pregnant, was terrifying. I was essentially lying on my belly. I was at a slight angle and I was lying with my belly inside a doughnut shaped pillow. But let's be honest here, by the time my body weight had compressed that thing, I would have needed like six of them to make any real difference. I left with an appointment the next day. They said come on in if nothing has happened yet, and if you don't show we'll know why. After I left I slowly started to realize how much better I felt. I made it to the second appointment. I told the Dr. that after the adjustment the day before I felt like if it did go on for a few more days, I could actually endure it. My second adjustment was much less scary. I left feeling even better than the day before.
That night I woke up around 3 or so, sick to my stomach. I had been battling some GI issues unrelated to the pregnancy (something that is still ongoing, although not as bad as it was a few months ago). I threw up and laid back down. Before drifting off to sleep I had felt some contractions that felt pretty intense, much more so than the contractions I had been feeling for weeks. But I drifted off to sleep all the same. I awakened again around 6, and quickly realized that I was in full blown labor. I woke John up at 6:30 and told him today was the day. The next two hours were a whirlwind. I know I nursed Rowan one last time before she became a big sister. I think I ate a banana. The pervading memory I have of the experience is pain. Perhaps that is why it has taken me so long to sit down and write this story. All I remember was how bad it hurt. I remember asking John to put a chux pad in front of me where I was leaning on the yoga ball because I felt sure I would throw up (I didn't). I remember looking into his eyes, knowing how much fear he had to be seeing in mine. I was scared. It was so much pain. I remember looking for an anchor in his eyes, something in the glint of them that would tell me that it would be ok, that the pain would not consume me, that it couldn't be stronger than me because it was me.
I must have found what I was looking for in my husband's eyes. I never asked to go to the hospital. I knew I wouldn't make it, even if I had wanted to. I knew I was on the ride I had chosen whether I liked it or not. There was no getting off. I remember the last few contractions before my body really started to bear down being excruciating because my boy was moving somehow, turning his head it felt like. That's when I thought I would throw up. It was the most pain I can remember ever being in in my life. This was my first child who didn't slide out as soon as his head was delivered. His head was out and I needed to rest, to wait a minute, to catch my breath. John told me that the baby was starting to try to breath, and in my birthing fog I panicked a little and cut my rest short as I pushed him the rest of the way out. He was moving his mouth but he still had his lifeline to me. It was ok, he didn't need to breath yet. His shoulders and chest were so big. John had to help him out a little. This was a much different birth than Rowan's. With Rowan he just caught her. He barely made it behind me in time. She almost hit the floor. Our big boy needed a little guidance. I looked down and saw boy parts. I was a little surprised, but some part of me knew he was a boy all along. A day or two after we found out I was pregnant we both had a dream on the same night that it was a girl. I had gotten boys vibes later on in the pregnancy though. We didn't have a name for him. Kaleb suggested his name. He reminded me that I had told him I liked that name at one point. I was a little sad to have to shelve our girl name though, I really loved it.
I experienced PPD almost immediately after his birth. I did not feel a bond with him for a few days. It's strange for me to recount this part of it because I don't remember what that felt like at all, so I don't have a lot to say on the subject. I kind of wish I had written down some of my thoughts during that time. I absolutely adore him now. He is so cute and sweet. He has the sweetest little smile, and he coos! Rowan took forever to coo. Her transition to life outside the womb was a rough one. Seamus seems to be happy to be born.
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