Today my sweet baby boy is one week old. I figured it was time that I write down his birth story so one day I'll be able to share it with him. So here goes...
On Thursday, March 26 at 37 weeks pregnant, we arrived at the hospital for my 6:00 AM induction. Of course it was a slow process of checking in (why they have you pre-register, I do not understand because I'm not sure it sped anything up). I believe it was around 7:45 AM by the time I was all hooked up and officially strapped to the IV pole. It was an extremely calm morning, and I was actually getting frustrated because I didn't feel as if I was making any progress. It showed I was having contractions, but it didn't feel like anything more than Braxton Hicks at the most.
Around 10 something my precious doctor came in and broke my water. I was only at 3 centimeters at this point which only made me more frustrated. However, the kids were there so for the most part I just chilled and took it all in. About 10:30 AM I felt my first contractions and had the kids leave the room with my mom. My sister and hubby stayed with me.
It's amazing how your body works because by 11:00 AM I was hurting so badly! I decided to forgo my natural childbirth plan and begged for an epidural. The nurse checked me at 11:10 AM, and I was at 4 centimeters. I remember looking at the clock and being so frustrated. I was in tears by this point because I was now "in line" for an epidural, but I did not have one. As I was crying and saying bad words through contractions (because I was in total control of myself, of course) I just felt something was wrong. I kept telling the nurse I wanted to push because it felt good, and she was telling me not to. I know she checked me somewhere in there because I remember her saying I was at an 8 and knowing that I wasn't going to get the epidural. This only upset me more realizing I was going to have to do this because I was sure I couldn't. (Not one of my prouder moments that day in the delivery room.)
By 11:30 I was ready to push as my doctor walked in. She got me focused enough to push and reminded me that I didn't really want an epidural anyway. I don't think she cared that I changed my mind in there. I'll never forget how casual it was. There was a room filled with people... most likely due to the fit I was having. Honestly, I have no idea who they were or where they came from, but they were there watching. My doctor just sat at the end of the bed. No crazy stirrups or lights. No blue surgery looking cover up thing. Some gloves and a mask thing that I had to wait for her to put on, and then she let me push. I pushed four times, and she laid my baby boy on stomach.
The mixture of emotions was overwhelming. He was here. He was okay. We had waited what felt like forever to know this. I was okay, too. And I felt such a relief of having him out of my body! (If you've pushed a baby out, you know this instant feeling of relief.)
This was an experience like no other. Not only was it fast and furious and oh so painful, but it was pretty amazing. I've never had a natural birth before so feeling everything was such a different experience. The labor itself, the pushing, all of it. There is something so primal and beautiful about it while in the same moment it's painful and agonizing. The human body is certainly amazing. And I will forever be grateful that God knew I needed that experience... I needed to feel those moments of pain, fear, and failure before He victoriously brought my son into this world and into my arms.
I have had the honor of loving two little boys and being a "mom" to them both. But there has been a longing in my heart to be the mother of a boy that I gave birth to. I had honestly given up that dream, and I was so satisfied with my three precious babies. I wrestled with the reason for this pregnancy, and I questioned God's plan more times than I believed in it.
As I look back, I see all of this was part of His plan. He saw fit that this pregnancy was viable when my heart wasn't in it. He put it on my heart not to find out the sex of this baby, which would have provided the answer to so many "whys" for me. He walked us through a valley of uncertainty with our baby's health. He made sure I felt the struggle. He made sure I had no where to go but to Him, even when He knew I didn't want to. Even when He knew it was the hardest thing for me to do.
On March 26 at 11:34 AM, I became the mother to a little boy weighing 5 lbs. 6 oz. measuring 18 1/2 inches long. A part of me that was missing, is now whole. Cooper Byron is my miracle... my redemption... my precious son. God did THAT!
A side note - Choosing a name for a baby whose sex is unknown was a difficult task for us. Many people have asked me what our name choices were since we kept a lot of things pretty hush hush.
For a girl we had it narrowed down to:
Georgia Rae
Sadie Rae
Clara Rae
(Rae honoring my sister Rachel)
For a boy we had it narrowed down to:
Tripp Byron
Hayes Byron
Cooper Byron
In the end, we chose Cooper Byron. We knew we wanted to honor my father by using his name as the middle name. Then we looked at our family and who we are in this season of life. When we described ourselves we came up with the words: Jesus, Gymnastics, and Baseball. So it only seemed right that we chose Cooper taken from Cooperstown where the Baseball Hall of Fame resides. We love our Mini Coop :)
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