By week 35 I was literally begging my OB for a c-section. I was all hardcore in the beginning for a natural birth, but since I knew he was breech, and since he was wearing my ribcage for a batting helmet, I was over it. Not to mention the PUPS rash that I had acquired at week 34. I decided to take matters into my own hands.
Towards the end of week 35 I started walking around more. Three days before his birth I was in the batting cages, trying out our new bat. I got a lot of looks, a few phone calls, but I just didn’t care anymore. I trusted the hospitals, and I had taken such good care of him so far, that I knew he would come out fine. I figured that if I got through the weekend, I would be fine. I didn’t want him born before 36 weeks for a couple of reasons. The first weekend of July was my mom, grandmother, and one of my best friend’s birthdays. The thought of him sharing a birthday with anyone made me sick to my stomach. My birthday is 3 days before Jesus’ birthday, and I hate it. So I told myself, as long as we can make it through those birthdays, and to 36 weeks, everything will be fine. But to make sure I was putting the pressure on, I started bouncing on the ball too..
Sunday morning, July 8 Randy and I were in bed doing what we do best- nothing. He made me a sandwich, and we started watching A League of Their Own on Netflix. I was chattering about how Kit was the reason why I was glad I didn’t have a real sister, and crying because I wanted to play softball. I also cried because I wanted to be 18 again so I could go play college ball somewhere other than Seminole State, where I would eventually go to Division 1 with the right coaching, and play in the World Series on the OKC field. Yeah. I had a lot on my mind that morning. In between all that, I was rolling out of bed to go to the bathroom every ten minutes.
Around 10:30am, my reverie and bathroom breaks were interrupted with an explosion. I can describe it in two ways”
1. When the levee breaks
2. When you’re playing with a water hose, put a kink in the hose then straighten it again.
I said to Randy, “hey, my water just broke..” He says, “are you sure?”
I stand up and we both stare at the downpour of fluid coming from my basketball shorts. I start walking to the bathroom where its still in faucet mode, and I’m just spilling it everywhere. I’m not sure what to do at this point, so I just walk around the bathroom spilling amniotic fluid all over the place. Randy suggest that I get in the shower, and when I see myself in the mirror and realize that I’m going to give birth to my baby with my fro all Gumby style, I hop in hoping that I stop leaking so I can put some pants on.
The strangest thing is to see your belly when the fluid is gone. you basically just see the outline of the baby. While we are driving to the hospital I get worried because I think he can’t breathe, and I start to feel weird. I thought I would feel relief when my water broke. I was scared shitless.
I mass text everyone three words. My water broke. I have Randy call my mom because I was too flustered to talk to parents. I’m too flustered to really talk at all, but I do take one phone call from my buddy Ree. We talk for a minute while Randy has gone back to the house to grab the bag that we forgot, and we are waiting on my blood results to come back.
The doctor confirms that he is still breech, and I am dilated to a 3. I’m having contractions, but I don’t feel them for some reason. I never feel any contractions throughout my labor.
My regular OB was on the lake, so I would be having a c section within the hour from whoever was on call. I didn’t care for my OB so I wasn’t upset. I was mentally preparing myself for the loss of feeling to the lower half of my body. I wiggle my toes and keep a hand on my oddly shaped belly, and fight to keep from crying. As much as I loved drugs in college, I wasn’t looking forward to this. I liked being able to feel my legs.
Randy gets back, and they wheel me into the c section room. The anesthesiologist sticks the needles in my back, and I start shaking uncontrollably, then I feel cold, then I feel fairy dust, then I feel nothing. It’s a weird feeling that I don’t like. I wiggled my toes until I couldn’t and upon the realization I almost start hyperventilating. I have to tell myself that the feeling will come back eventually and not to try and move again. I’m laying there while they paint my belly orange like a pumpkin, and I start telling Randy what I was going to put Blake in for Halloween. I decide on 3 costumes.
They ask me what I want to listen to while they perform the operation, and I said, “I wanna listen to Dave Matthews.” The fact that I am listening to music while they are cutting me open like in Nip Tuck makes me happy, and I share this with Randy.
So while #41 plays, they are digging around inside my belly, looking for him. Blood is splashing on the curtain, and I ask them if they have found him yet. Suddenly they start pushing really hard on my rib where his head is, and it hurts. It’s basically the only place that the spinal block didn’t get to. I hear the nurse say 12:18, and Blake starts to scream. Randy looks over and says that he has a lot of hair, and a couple of seconds later they place this swaddled swollen blob baby on my shoulder, I can barely move, and he’s just sitting here on my shoulder. I am speechless. Randy goes with them to check his vitals and everything and I stay back so they can finish sewing me up. Two Step is playing, which is my favorite Dave song. I actually played it for Blake a number of times, so I start singing it while they sew me up.
Blake Nicholas Hensley was born weighing 6lbs 7oz. We thought he would weigh more because that was his weight 3 weeks ago, but I had stopped gaining weight so I guess he stopped too, lol. He was 19 inches. Another fact, he was born the same day that we lost our first pregnancy a year ago. Weird.
The worst part about getting the spinal block is that it took like 8 hours for me to feel my toes again. I felt like Beatrix Kiddo when she had just revived herself from her coma.. Wiggle your big toe… I went back to my room where my mom, her twin, Randy’s grandparents, and his mom were waiting. We eventually find out that the baby has to stay in NICU overnight, so I don’t get to hold him until the drugs wear off around one in the morning. Randy and his mom come back to the room with pictures of them holding my baby, and I want to cry.
I carried him around, felt him moving for nearly 9 months, and I wasn’t even the second person to hold him.
I vow to hold him more than anyone else for the rest of his life.