Brody's Birth Story Part 2

Read Part 1 first...

Simultaneously, my sister and Klay say, "WHAAAAT? Wow. In two hours!"

"Now I want you to push." 

WAIT, SAY WHAT NOW?

I didn't take any classes. I don't know what I'm doing. All I'm hearing in my head is Bill Cosby singing "Push 'em out, push 'em out, waaaaaay out!" I did literally think about grabbing Klay's bottom lip...(Those of you that have seen Bill Cosby Himself will understand that one. Side-note...it's hilarious).

With Bill cheering me on, and using what I'd seen in movies, I just pushed hard.

"Look at that head right there," the doctor said to Klay. Klay looks and smiles. It's 8:27 p.m.

Britney is filming, which at the time we didn't know we weren't supposed to do. Meanwhile, mom and several others wait in the lobby clueless to what's happening in the room down the hall.

Nervous and anxious, Britney is hollering about needing to call mom to come back. "Can we get mom? Hey, we got to get mom! Can we get her? Can we get her?"

In between contractions, the doctor declares that she's going to explain to me how to push. She starts rambling on, and while I'm watching her speak, I'm really focusing on Britney who's on the phone with my mom. Frankly, I was more concerned with making sure mom came down to the room rather than listening to the doctor's directions. Majority of the women in my family have had c-sections (at least mom and Brit both did), so the idea of pushing and having a vaginal birth was exciting to the Welch clan.

Turning my attention back to the doctor I said, "Could you explain it to me one more time?" My legs and body were shaking from adrenaline. My doctor complied, caressed my leg and said she wasn't explaining well--she was, I just wasn't listening. She was being nice.

Once I understood the directions, Mom arrived taking hold of the camera and still waiting for another contraction, she who has to pee really really bad asks the room, "Can I go to the restroom?"

Seriously! This woman has the bladder the size of a pea; no pun intended. Mom rushes into the bathroom that's in the delivery room. The nurses look around like "where is she going?"

Meanwhile, my doctor shines a big UFO-looking light down at the tiny bit of head you can see, puts on her gear (prepping like she's about to go to war or something) ready for my little guy to arrive.

Once everyone, including mom was situated, another contraction started. I began to push. I'm staring at Klay, who looks insanely nervous, as I'm trying to get some indication on what's going on down there; I can't feel a thing. Klay's legs and body are shaking as he hoists my left leg in the air. I've never seen him so nervous and anxious at the same time. The time we waited for was finally here; we were going to meet our sweet boy.

Now my legs are in some sort of contraction so no one is holding them.



"Push real hard, real hard," my doctor says. I'm pushing and then stop. Then go again.

I don't remember how many times I pushed, but it wasn't but probably only four times in two more waves of contractions.

At 8:37 p.m. I pushed and COPLOOOW, there he was--a dark haired 6 lbs 4 oz little boy--my Brody.

It was seriously the best moment of my life, when they placed my son in my arms for the very first time. Seeing his sweet little face, thinking he didn't look how I'd picture he would, and praising the Lord that he didn't come out looking like a six-month-old Hispanic boy (pregnancy dreams are crazy yall!).

I've seen movies and watched "A Baby Story," but since it finally happened to me and this was my first experience with my child, it was surreal and the most beautiful moment of my life.

Since I was going to try to breastfeed (read my experience with that here), we did skin-to-skin time, and once it was finally time to try, Brody latched on immediately and it was pure mommy-and-son bliss. That is by far the most precious moment I'd ever experienced--EVER. I couldn't believe how different breast feeding was than how I'd imagined it would be.

My perfect moment was soon interrupted by nausea caused by the magnesium seeping through my veins and the forever-lasting migraine. Brody who was nudey-pants peed on me, which I didn't mind at all, but then not even a moment later, I needed to hurl. So I was holding Brody with my left arm and getting sick in a bag on my right. 

When I watched my husband hold Brody for the first time, it washed away the ickiness I was feeling for a moment, which was nearly two hours after Brody was born (because they used that for only skin-on-skin bonding time). Klay was so happy to meet his son. I've never seen him more proud than when he got to hold him. He was in pure awe of our little fella.

I knew he'd be an amazing father, but seeing the way he stared at Brody in amazement only made it even more clear that he was going to be the best dad any wife or son could ask for. Our family felt complete.

Part 3 of Brody Jack's Birth story coming soon.