Brody's Birth Story Part 3

Read part 1 & part 2 first.

Soon after our first few wonderful hours together, Brody was off to the nursery to get examined, poked, measured and watched by daddy, who was standing with a camera in hand eyeing Brody and his nurse's every move; he wasn't going to leave his side any time soon.

Meanwhile back in L&D, I was getting the treatment--getting cleaned up via sponge-bath which made me feel much better despite still experiencing the migraine.  Before I realized it, it was midnight and I was beyond delirious.

I had a new visitor--my dear friend Cami. She arrived just after her shift ended at work--Dodie's Greenville--, and bumped into Klay at the nursery.

"Brody's so cute," she said as she sat down and asked how I felt. The light was dim in the room to help ease with the sensitivity to light from the gruesome headache. Honestly, I don't really remember much of our conversation because I was so exhausted and OUT OF IT. I remember talking, though it could have been about politics, baby Jesus, who knows?



After Cami left, my nurses prepped me to move to a room upstairs. Lauren and Brandy, my two nurses of the day, were truly spectacular. I'd gotten so attached to them I was crazy sad to move upstairs. I felt like they were sending me off into the wilderness to fend for myself. It was almost as if they were my parents sending me to live in a new home with a new family. At least that's how I felt. They guided me through the most incredible, scary, up and down rollercoaster ride of my life and I didn't want to let them go. Through my labor I discovered one was from Forney and even got her contact info to meet up. I was attached.

But it was time for me to take my leap, start walking on my own and for them to let go of me, wave goodbye and let me  figure this thing out called motherhood. But I was so afraid that my next nurses wouldn't take as good of care of me as they did. But if they were so great, surely the hospital has more great nurses right? WRONG.

After our move to our newest digs, the nurses brought me my baby boy. I was so eager to hold him despite my exhaustion. I didn't mind feeding him, I was just happy he was with me; I didn't want him out of my sight.I looked back at Lauren as I lay on the portable hospital bed, grabbed her hand, and shifted my focus to Klay who was walked beside us.  Whisked me out of L&D, we were on the move, I closed my eyes opening them to only see glimpses of walls and florescent lights that skated above me.



While I was holding Brody once more, I felt my nausea resurface. Looking at the new night nurse in my room, I said "Get me something I'm about to get sick. I'm about to sick. Take him, take him." She just stood there looking at me like I was speaking a foreign language. Maybe I was? Thankfully, Klay stood up took Brody from me and handed me a hospital barf bag. Why they make those bags so small?!?

After getting sick again for the millionth time, I started to dose. Every three or so hours people would come check my BP. Then, my nurse came in and said my oxygen levels were low. Down in L&D, they'd put this thing on my finger which is supposed to monitor my oxygen levels. Well prior to delivery, Brandy (my L&D nurse) had trouble getting a good read on my finger. I'd gotten the shellac or gel nail polish (navy blue) and it wasn't reading through my nail. So, after trying it on my toe (which had gray polish), and that didn't work, they moved the monitor to my ear. When we got upstairs, they placed it back on my finger.

I told the new nurses this a thousand times, but they didn't listen, they continued to ignore me. I kept dosing off intermittently between nurses shuffling in and out of this tiny room.

Around 4 a.m., a specialist came in to check on me. I told him through the oxygen mask--feeling sort of Darth Vadarish--that'd I said 500 times to check it somewhere else but no one would listen. He simply took the clamp, opened it and turned it sideways so it was on my skin rather than the nail, and voila! it was normal. Thankfully that was the end of that.

We were eventually moved to a third room later that morning. Brody's tests were coming back normal with the exception of one--his jaundice test. With rising jaundice levels higher than normal,  we were going to keep good track of it, which meant more pokes and blood test on this heel of his foot.

Despite everything, he seemed to be taking to my breast well and everyone told me I was doing a great job breastfeeding. The lactation nurse even told me my milk was coming in. I was hopeful. I had this dream that I would be the mom that traveled everywhere with her kid in a baby bjorn, popping out the boobie when he got hungry like his very own milk vending machine. I was going to be the source of his food. It was my responsibility to be his one-stop shop for the goods. That was me, the milk-making mommy machine. I could see it.

What an idiot, I was...

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.