The clock was ticking and I was still waiting for my cervix to do its job. My sister was knocked out on the couch. My poor husband’s head was about to roll off as he tried to get some sleep in a chair. I tried to get some rest but no haps. So in between dozes, I watched TV and waited … and waited.
About 6:30 a.m. the doctor came in to check my cervix. Nothing had changed. I was still in between the 2cm and 3cm mark. Looks like I was not going to get to 10cm any time soon or at all for that matter. My birth plan was not going as planned.
Because they had already broke my water, I couldn’t wait too long to have this stubborn baby of mine. Eventually, the inevitable. I would have to have a C-Section. I was not happy. I was frustrated. I was tired. I was annoyed. And now I would have to have major surgery. It had been a long two days and I was just ready to have this baby. Having a C-Section just seemed like the worse. From my hubby, to my sister, the nurses and doctor — they all consoled me. They told me it was going to be ok.
In the grand scheme of things delivery is really up to the baby. We can plan how we want things to go but we all know that sometimes things just don’t go the way we planned. I wasn’t planning on having a child at 44. But here I was about to do it. Overall we just wanted a healthy child. So how ever he was going to come into the world we were gonna have to deal with it.
Things moved pretty quickly after I was told the news. The got me prepped to go to the operating room. I was about to have a whole child y’all. “I don’t know nothin’ bout birthing no babies.”
OUR lives were about to change. What would he look like? Would he have my eyes? His dad’s complexion? Our personalities? There was so much going through my head. Mostly, that everything would go as smoothly as possible.
My poor sister, having waited hours, now had to leave the hospital right when I was about to deliver. She has three children of her own so she had to get back to take them to whatever activities they had that day. So it was just me and Dad. I think that’s how it was meant to be though.
It was time. We were about to become parents.
OH. MY. GOD.
LOOK. AT. GOD.
THANK. YOU. GOD.
They gave hubby a sterile jumpsuit to put on. HA-LAR because he could barely fit it. They put the little cotton cap on my head and proceeded to roll me to the operating room. They lifted my body a bit to transfer me from my hospital bed to the operating table. Then they put up a barrier between my upper body and my lower body so we couldn’t see them cutting me open. Please and Thank You.
They numbed me up some more — Praise Him! Because one thing I didn’t want was to be awake during major surgery and feel them cutting me open. No thanks. I’ve never had major surgery before so I have no idea what to expect during or after.
Before I knew it they were asking me if I felt anything? “Um, no”. The doctor had already started cutting me open. WHAT??? No heads up. Thank God I didn’t feel anything. It was probably better I didn’t know right away. I’d be expecting to feel something and trying to brace myself. I did feel a little pressure once they started trying to get the baby out.
My husband is right beside me. He’s holding my hand. He’s telling me it’s going to be okay. “You got this!”.
The doctor finally got the baby’s head out. They asked my hubby if he wanted to look over the barrier to see. Reluctantly, he rises and looks over. But he quickly sits back down. LOL. He later told me he caught a glimpse of my skin pulled back. Oh that’s fun. The doctor commented on how big the baby was. “He’s a chubby little guy”. Everyone is seeing my child but me. But I’m trying to focus on the fact that I’m having a baby. I just wanted them to get him out with no problem. I was anxious. And in a matter of minutes, my baby boy was out. Saturday, January 6th at 7:40 a.m. — my baby boy was born. Ryan A. Pinkney. He was crying. I wanted to see him.
The nurse asked my husband to come around to see the baby. They tell him NOT to look to the right — where I’m laying — because I’m sure it’s a site to see. He walked over to where they are weighing and washing him off. This child weighed in at 9 pounds 6.8 ounces. What the what? Although they did project him to be about 8 pounds we weren’t expecting anything passed that. Little Ryan done came out a little rump shaker.
The doctors work on stitching me back up. But I felt uncomfortable. It wasn’t pain but I didn’t feel good. I guess it wouldn’t having your skin pulled back together. They asked me if I was ok and would I like laughing gas. I guess. I don’t know. Is it going to help me stop feeling whatever this discomfort is? So sure … gas me up!
The laughing gas more than anything, took my mind off the discomfort I was feeling. So I guess it worked. Honestly, I don’t know how long all this took. But finally I was stitched up and ready to see my son. My husband came over first with tears in his eyes. Then the nurse brought Ryan around to see me. Tears filled my eyes. Wow. I … just … had … a … baby.