VIctoria way Photography


Jan 8, 2018

Confession. I’m not one of those moms who has it all together. My diaper bag is a chaotic pile of crap that is pretty much always missing the one item I actually need while I’m out. There is no dinner prep other than a 6pm dig through the pantry while wondering how far past its expiration date my bagged salad is. I have an absolutely stunning baby book for Wesley with not a single word documented in it thus far. Oh wait… maybe one line is filled…. Wesley’s name. Success! Yay me! I’d say I’m somewhere in between the mom who wears her yoga pants out for any and all occasions and the mom who thinks it’s a miracle that she remembered to put on pants in the first place. So yeah, it’s safe to say that I haven’t gotten it together yet to document Wesley’s birth story. But now, exactly 1 year following the day I went into labor, I’m feeling nostalgic and I’m ready to share. I haven’t forgotten too many of the best details and I can tell a story that Wes will look forward to hear one day.

*Warning: Some of the below could be considered TMI. Proceed with caution.

Wes was due on December 29th and had NO interest in coming early. So I waddled around like a whale for nearly two weeks following my due date waiting for my induction to come. Induction was scheduled for the evening of Sunday, January 8th and as a first time mom, I was nervous so I made big plans for the day to keep me from getting too worked up. As a lover of football and food, I was going to go to a sports bar with my family and eat all of the fried food while watching the Giants and Steelers play. Well, Wes had other plans for me that day. I woke up around 6am and I just felt… wet. As any pregnant woman understands, it’s hard to immediately know when your water is breaking if it’s not a cinematic-like GUSH. Pregnancy is weird and gross and it makes your body weird and gross so you never know what’s normal. I called my sister downstairs and asked what she thought and she didn’t think I had any reason to be worried (yet) and we went back to sleep. Well, an hour later I woke up and was certain my water was breaking so I called the doctor who told me to come in immediately. Almost instantly, contractions started and I got ready while I waited for the car to get warmed up. I was driven to the hospital where my contractions were getting closer together and more painful. I had to waddle past security and to the elevators as I finally got that classic movie water breaking moment.

I was checked in and they confirmed that my water did indeed break and although I was having contractions, they were still far apart and not happening consistently. And now… we wait. One little PSA… nurses, please be kind to first time mothers. We have no idea what the f* is going on with our body now, what is going to be going on with it later, and a little understanding can go a long way. My nurse mumbled and could barely be heard and whenever I asked a question, she asked it back to me. “When do I see the doctor?” “When do you WANT to see the doctor?” {Slams head on desk.} I later learned that almost everything in the world made this nurse angry so apparently it wasn’t just me. At one point she walked into my room, saw light snowflakes gently falling, and stormed off yelling at everyone regarding the snow. At another point she told my doctor how much she hated her jacket. I guess this woman just had a lot of feelings. Anyway… moving on.

The afternoon was surprisingly chill for someone in labor. I watched some football, walked around while my sister took over the hospital bed, the usual. They eventually gave me Pitocin to speed up my labor as it wasn’t progressing fast enough on its own. Wes was a squatter and simply didn’t want to leave. The pain increased and although I did end up getting an epidural, it never seemed to really ease any pain and by the time I was pushing the next morning, had completely worn off. The night was spent with my angel of a doula, Angel, massaging my feet and doing guided meditation to help ease me through the pain. This woman SERIOUSLY lived up to her name. I felt every contraction and she did everything in her power to make me feel comfortable. You know the iron throne in Game of Thrones? Yeah… this woman basically recreated that around me but with pillows. I would completely understand all of Westeros battling for this baby, it was pretty damn comfortable. Angel also brought little stress balls to play with throughout the night. I calmly squeezed mine while my sister, who apparently needed an outlet for some pent up aggression, immediately popped hers and created a flour explosion that took over the entire room. Screw drugs, these are the distractions needed to forget about labor pains.

I would slip in-and-out of sleep and in-and-out of Netflix binge marathons (Crazy Ex-Girlfriend is good in any situation). Wes’s dad and my sister were a great support system and I knew they could tell I was struggling when I stopped talking altogether (not something I usually do). I was finally in so much pain that I kept telling the doula and the doctor that I thought it was time to push. I don’t remember much during this time other than the pain (just being honest) but I do remember no one seemed rushed until they finally took a look and realized that it was DEFINITELY that time. One of the weirdest experiences I had during labor was watching doctors and nurses chit chat between pushes. They don’t show that on the TV shows. “Push! Push! Ok break. So what are you doing later? What’s the temp outside? Ok push again.” Focus people! After only 15 minutes of pushing… at 5:05am… there he was. My beautiful baby boy with a huge head (you know it’s huge when the nurse points out that fact mid-delivery) and perfect crying lungs. They placed him on my chest and I immediately fell in love.

I could go on about the rest of the visit but it’s pretty much what you would expect. No, we didn’t get any sleep. Yes, we were completely confused/overwhelmed with what to do now with this little person we were responsible for. But ultimately, I felt what every new parent feels. That feeling that completely takes over that your life has now completely changed for the better and that you could never imagine that this much love was possible.

Happy Anniversary to the 2nd best day of my life… the day that you decided to start your journey. I can’t wait to celebrate the absolute best day tomorrow… the day we finally met.














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