At 2:13 AM this morning, Evan turned 10 years old. I never wrote down a birth story for him, so I am challenging myself now to write down as many of the details as I can.
Evan's arrival actually began on the 19th. I went in for a 43 week appointment with the doctor at around 10:30. Yes-you read that right-43 weeks. At the time, as a single mom, I was using Medicaid as my health insurance, which left UNMC as the only group of doctors/hospital I could choose. I would never run out of bad things to say about this medical institution, the interns I had to see (a different one each visit), or the general depravity of care I received. After going through the humbling experience of using Medicaid, WIC and other public assistance programs, and coming out on the other side, I have the utmost respect and sympathy for other women who have to do this. It is degrading, demeaning, and depressing. The level of care available to you is so substandard it is frightening.
But I digress. My pregnancy with Evan was peppered with my first experience with tachycardia, which is a rapid heart beat when you are at rest. I had this with all three of my boys, but it was worst with Evan. The night before, I had been up all through the night with a heart rate averaging around 163 beats a minute, despite the fact I was lying down in bed. It was exhausting. At the appointment my mother and I had to beg the intern, who was meeting me for the first time that day, to induce me. After 2 hours of consulting with other doctors, they finally made the decision to induce and by 1:00 I was hooked up to a pitocin drip.
We watched the movie Titanic for the first several hours, which really weren't bad at all. I don't recommend watching this flick when your body is doped up with pregnancy hormones. The scene with the mother and baby frozen in the water about threw me over the edge, but everyone else was so wrapped up in the movie they failed to notice how much I hated it.
My mom, dad, and sister were all there to help me bring my first son into the world. They rubbed my back, fed me ice chips, and kept me motivated. I listened to Garrison Keillor all through the tough parts, which started around 7:00 PM, because I think his voice is the most relaxing thing ever. I remember feeling like I was floating through a haze of pain, contractions, and hunger, and it was all wrapped up in the lull of Garrison's slow methodical story telling.
After only about 12 pushes, (pushing has always been my specialty in labor-something I am really proud of! I can push out a 10 pounder in only 12 pushes! Literally!) Evan was born at 2:13 AM. He came into the world weighing 7 lbs, 4 ounces, 21 1/4 inches. I remember my Dad saying "Oh Evan! It's nice to meet you!" which I thought was so sweet. My mom and dad both cried, and my sister couldn't wait to hold him. I have a clear picture of her in my head sitting in the rocker next across from me, cradling him in her arms.
I also remember being RAVENOUS. I hadn't eaten since breakfast that morning, and so as soon as I was stitched up and sitting up in bed with Evan in my arms, I turned to Sarah, and rather shouted, "I need a SANDWICH!!!"
But most of all, I remember sitting up with Evan in my arms the rest of that night and the next, when it was just us left in the room, in complete awe of this new little being who was my wonderful, glorious, son. I was immediately smitten, completely in love, and more than a little over protective of this tiny little boy. Strangely enough, I was never worried about how I would support him, how we would manage, or what in the world I would do to finish college with a newborn in tow. I felt oddly peaceful on this front. I just knew he was meant to be, and our small family was meant to be as well. And for once, I was right. It all worked out, for the best, and he was meant to be the piece of my heart that had been missing.
Happy 10th birthday Evan! It's been a wonderful 10 years getting to watch you grow and change. I am HONORED to be your mother.
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