Beginning of My Motherhood

It’s been ages since I’ve been up here. I wish I could’ve returned to my blog sooner, but 2024 has been a whirlwind of craziness and exhaustion. Before 2023 came to a close, I set my goals for 2024, with meeting baby N, my son, at the top of the list. He decided to make his grand entrance a week earlier than expected, adding an unexpected twist to our story. Let me share an amusing tale.

The Night Before

The night before my labor began, my brother joked, “Wouldn’t it be funny if you went into labor during our meeting with dad and the others? We’d both be excused because of baby N.” We chuckled at the thought and carried on with our evening. After dinner, we settled in to watch Fast X together. In the midst of all the action and excitement, my brother turned to my belly and quipped, “You better not come out now! The movie’s just getting started; wait until we finish!” I rolled my eyes and replied, “You’re overthinking it. My due date isn’t until Feb 1st. The doctor said firstborns usually arrive late.” We finished the movie, and I headed to bed around 1:30 am.

Around 3:30 am, I felt an uncomfortable sensation in my stomach, like a cramp. Unsure of what it was, I woke Stanley and expressed my discomfort. “Could it be contractions?” he asked. I shot him a look. “How would I know?” His solution was simple: “If it’s not painful, go back to sleep.” So, I tried.

But the discomfort persisted, and I eventually woke Stanley up again. “It’s not getting better; in fact, it’s getting worse,” I told him, checking for any signs of labor. No water breaking, no blood. Uncertainty lingered.

Stanley phoned the labor hotline, seeking guidance. The nurse reassured him, “Early signs of labor. Just have her relax and time the contractions. If they’re about ten minutes apart, it’s time to head to the hospital.” So, we waited, Stanley dozing while I lay wide awake, discomfort gnawing at me.

And So It Begins

After an hour, unable to bear it any longer, I woke Stanley once more. This time, he called the delivery hotline. The nurse advised us to go to the hospital for a check-up since we were unsure if it was indeed labor. She assured us they’d be ready.

We grabbed my hospital bag and made our way to the hospital around 6 am. Still early, I opted to text my mom and brother rather than wake them. The pain intensified during the drive; what felt like a 20-minute journey stretched into an eternity.

Arriving at the hospital, we anticipated a smooth admission. However, they weren’t expecting us, having not received our call. Frustration mounted as we waited for a check-up. The midwife eventually arrived, only to inform me that I wasn’t dilated enough for admission. It had to be at least 5 fingers; I was at 3.5. She offered more time and promised to return later for another check. If I still fell short, going back home would be our only option.

Throughout the ordeal, pain gripped me, and nurses urged me to walk to aid dilation. But I was adamant, too exhausted and in agony to move. I marveled at the resilience of women who endure childbirth without medication.

I told Stanley that if the midwife returned and I hadn’t met the minimum dilation requirement, I wouldn’t budge. It made no sense to me to return home. They’d have to drag me out. After what felt like endless hours, the midwife gave me great news – I would be admitted. At that point, all I cared about was getting relief from the pain. The nurse informed me I’d have to wait for the epidural as the anesthesiologist was occupied with other deliveries. In the meantime, they administered a shot of fentanyl to alleviate the pain, but it offered little relief. Exhausted and in agony from lack of rest, I couldn’t find solace despite the nurses’ pleas to rest.

Baby N Arrives

Finally, after receiving the epidural, my experience took a turn for the better. Numbness spread through my body, allowing me to finally nap. Then, I was informed that my water had broken. The nurse assured me they’d inform the midwife, and hopefully, I’d deliver the baby that day instead of waiting until tomorrow. The midwife arrived after finishing other deliveries, and upon examination, declared that I was fully dilated. Practice pushes began, and soon enough, my baby’s head was visible. The delivery proceeded smoothly, taking only 15 minutes.

The moment I held my baby in my arms for the first time was unlike anything I had imagined. While tears didn’t stream down my face as people told me I would, a whirlwind of emotions swept over me. It was a surreal experience, marking the beginning of a new chapter filled with lots of uncertainty, and responsibility.

In the midst of the hospital’s hustle and bustle, I felt a deep sense of gratitude. The skilled professionals who guided us through labor with expertise and compassion made all the difference. With my son safe in my arms, I reflected on the journey we had undertaken together.

As Stanley dialed my mom’s number, letting her know we were safe. I couldn’t help but feel a profound sense of appreciation for the support we received. With each passing moment, I embraced the lessons learned and looked forward to the adventures that lay ahead for our growing family.