In the last trimester of my pregnancy, I worked myself nearly to death. I had this crazy goal of paying off all debt (except student loans, which we won't even talk about....) before my little miracle arrived. I accomplished this by working sixty hour work weeks for about four months straight. I found that I actually felt really good in my last trimester, as compared to the first two, where I threw up nearly every day and ended up in the Emergency Room three different times with severe dehydration. So my due date was November 19th. I scheduled myself to work on the nineteenth, and to start my maternity leave afterward, since many first pregnancies are late anyway. I planned on doing a natural childbirth, and took classes to prepare me for it. Because I am opposed to being induced unless under medical duress, I figured I would just work right up until delivery. My plan worked, more or less.
The morning of November19th was a Monday, and I wasn't due into work until 3 p.m. I woke up that morning and felt as if I'd been drugged. I was drowsy and just felt generally run-down, moreso than I'd ever felt my whole pregnancy. I had an appointment with my midwife that I barely was able to get to. I distinctly remember driving to the University and fighting drowsiness at two in the afternoon! At any rate, during the check out I told my midwife that I was feeling rather rundown, and she glommed onto the whole thing and decided that I was pre-eclamptic. I argued and suggested that instead I just had a cold, and was, after all, nine and a half months pregnant. She insisted that I go to the obstetric urgent care clinic and get checked out. I spent four hours there while they monitored my blood pressure. They hummed and hawed but eventually decided that I was in fact pre-eclamptic (I still disagree) and insisted that I be admitted to the hospital right away.
Because I wasn't in labor of any sort, they wanted to induce me. I threw a big fit and instead the midwife suggested that they give me Cervasil, a drug they put directly on your Cervix to help speed up effacement. The idea is that as your Cervix thins, your body will naturally start a slow but steady progression of contractions on its own. The plan was to give me the Cervasil and an Ambien and let me sleep through the night,to wake up in the morning and then get the party started. At the last minute there was some nonsense about making me have an EKG and clearing it with the Cardiology team before giving me Cervasil because of a minor heart condition I have. I was annoyed because I had to wait around for another several hours until they gave me the drug. The strange thing, however, is that during this waiting period I got (excuse the following) THE worst gas I have ever had in my life. It was 'stuck', and my whole abdomen felt distended and uncomfortable. It was so bad that I had gas pains in my shoulders, a sensation I had after surgery one time as the free air drifted up. My midwife told me that I had spontaneously started labor on my own, and that the release of prostoglandin hormones was causing the gas pains. So my night of 'rest' was not to be. I called my sister to come and coach me through the labor. I also called Godmother Kara, who was able to be here from Sri Lanka for the birth, and told her to keep her phone close by and I would call as labor progressed.
Long story short (as I've rambled quite enough), I labored naturally up until about 9 a.m., when I found myself in the tub hating life. At that time an epidural saved me from the worst most painful contractions I never cared to experience. By 10 a.m. I was napping peacefully, and basically the midwives left me alone for four hours until I was nearly crowning. When they returned at 2 in the afternoon I was ready to go! Pushing and sitting up brought on a wave of nausea and vomitting. I was so sensitive to the epidural that as I had to vomit, Kara and Lynnea had to help me sit up! It went a little something like this: push, barf. Push, barf. Eventually I just pointed to the barf basin and Kara would bring it closer as she helped me sit up. In retrospect they said that as I was pushing, I didn't say a word and seemed to 'zone out'. I just wanted to get it over with so I could see my little man! At 2:29 November 20, 2007, Solomon Tate Karisa made his debut into the world weighing 6 pounds and 2 ounces, at 19 inches long.
His Aunt Lynnea cut the cord and then supervised as he was taken to the incubator to be checked out.
Love at first site! And boy was I snowed from my Epidural!
Godmother Kara solicited Solomon's first official smile!
Brittany came to see me shortly after Solomon was born and pronounced that he 'looked like a taco' all wrapped up in his little blanket. The nickname sort of stuck and we're calling him "Taco" for short! The kid will need therapy for sure, and I'll send the bill to Brittany!!!
I think I was in a state of shock and it took several hours, if not days, for it to dawn on me that i was now a mother! As I think back on his first hours, I treasure his sort of 'daze' that he was in as he calmly cuddled with me and looked around for the first time. I had Solomon room-in with me during my stay in the post partum unit, and spent the majority of my time just staring at him and showing him off to all of our visitors.
This picture makes me laugh because he looks so small and far away.
"To be or not to be, that is the question". Yes, he was having a Shakespearean bath. Smart boy.
He survived the bath with flying colors. However, getting out of the bath is another story alltogether. He doesn't much care for being wet and cold. But then again, who does? He actually peed in the direction of Brittany (who was behind the camera) as this picture was taken, but luckily he had bad aim.
All warm and snuggly after his big adventure, just chilling in the swing (which he hates).
