2004-04-29, 11:58 a.m.

I actually did finally give birth

Okay, I think I'm ready to write the end - Leon's asleep for now...

This is where it gets really graphic. Right here.

Then we were really pushing. I had a mirror at my feet so that I could see what was happening, but it was even harder to believe that a small person was supposed to come out of my body when I could actually see my body. And I found it frustrating to actually know how slow my progress was - I would push, and the doctors would get all excited, saying "there's his head, can you see all his hair?", but then the contraction would end, and I'd see his head slip back up, and feel like I hadn't gotten anywhere. I suppose that this is part of the process - I was slowly stretching after all, but still I was sort of glad when the doctors all got in the way and I couldn't see anything. It was easier to just focus on how the progress felt.

And after a while I could really feel my body again, which helped. I started to get the hang of the pushing, and to know when a contraction was about to start, and to push with the contraction. The great thing about pushing is that the contractions suddenly made so much more sense, physically. They were helping me get the baby born in a way that I could actively participate in. And they didn't hurt when I could push. Suddenly, contractions were my friend.

One amazing thing early on in the pushing was suddenly discovering that my belly felt different - when I put my hands on my lower abdomen, the baby WASN'T THERE anymore. This was the first moment when I physically understood that he really was going to get born. The baby was on the move.

Because my back and hips were so sore, I would sometimes roll onto my side in between contractions, to ease the stiffness, and then do the next set of pushing on my side. This helped a lot. Then I would roll back onto my back for the next set. I think I was on my side when Leon started to really come, when I first started to feel like the pushing was making some real birth-canal travel happen.

Everyone was standing around me cheering me on, pushing with me. I had to tell Christopher to stop yelling encouraging things while counting - he would interrupt the count to add a cheer, and that would throw off my rhythm, which was frustrating. And I was not about to score a touchdown, damn it. But he was so excited and involved, and totally not being squeemish about getting so involved in the un-sexy parts of me, that I was thrilled, and completely forgave him immedeately.

I'll be honest, I did hurt at the end. But not in any clear 'this hurts because my vagina is stretching' way, although of course the doctor said "you'll start to feel some burning soon". But I didn't feel any burning, it just got really tough. I hurt, but not in a specific way. I think my adrenaline was pumping like crazy, and I was working as hard physically as I have ever worked in my life. I did yell and wail quite a bit for the last 4 or 5 contractions (our friends who had just given birth across the hall could hear me), partly because I was getting really frustrated - I felt like I was working so hard, and I just wasn't moving him enough. I think I even yelled something like "I can't do it" at one point.

But then - and this was weird and amazing - his little head started to pop out, and the docs moved so I could see in the mirror, and there was this little, pale white thing, facing down toward the bed, and I realized it was his tiny little face - a face, he has a face! That was wild. The doctor said something along the lines of, "okay, one more big push", and suddenly when I pushed I could tell that I was REALLY getting somewhere. From what I understand, when his head finally got pushed all the way out, the doctors grabbed hold of him, to keep him from slipping back in again. I didn't see this part, but Christopher did. Then the next time I pushed I actually felt the rest of his little body slither out, and the doctors place a very blue child on my chest.

And I felt really odd - this is my child? He's blue! There was this weird disconnect moment, when I actually thought, 'uh oh, I'm not overcome with joy. I'm just exhausted, and darn glad to be done pushing.'

Leon had pooped on the way out, and still needed to have his airways cleared, so the nurse took him to the warming incubator thing for a few minutes, and Christopher went with her. It was only a few feet from my bed, and I could see them as they cleaned him off. Christopher held his little hands the whole time, and he didn't cry at all - he seemed to feel very safe with his dad. He also trimmed Leon's umbilical cord, once it had been clamped off. That was when I suddenly felt something - Wow! That's our son! And he's so beautiful! Hey, my turn to hold him - I did all the work here!!'

Okay, I'm getting all emotional again, just writing this.

And while the nurse and Christopher were tending to the boy, the doctors were working on helping me to deliver the placenta. I found this very comical, since it wouldn't detach at first. It was a little uncomfortable, all the pushing and poking to get it loose, but nothing like delivering the baby himself. And a little squishy when it did slide out. They showed it to us a little later, and wow - placentas are HUGE. Almost as big as the baby himself, and look a lot like a liver. Then the other doctor sewed me up - it turns out that I tore a little, at the bottom of the vaginal opening, on the outside. I didn't have any idea until they told me, which is ironic, because the thing I'd always been most afraid of when thinking about giving birth was the tearing, or worse, the episiotimy. But no, I hadn't noticed a thing. And I was really lucky - the doctor who sewed me up - only 2 stitches, she said - is a plastic surgeon, so she did a fabulous job. My OB couldn't even find the tear when I visited her last week.

Then I threw up again - hormones. And then while they were still cleaning me and Leon up, I ate a piece of cheese cake. I also took some pictures of everything going on around me.

Once Leon was all cleaned and checked out - about 10 minutes later maybe - I got to hold him. He was solid and warm, and not blue anymore, though still quite pale. And then we tried our first nursing - I held his little body across my chest with my right arm, holding his neck with my hand, and teased his lips with my nipple. He opened his mouth wide, and latched on, and Voila! We were nursing! I'd taken the breast feeding class at the hospital, so I was ready not to freak out in case he and I couldn't figure it out at first, but he took to it immediately. Thank you nursing gods. We have photos of him nursing that night.

And then, at 1 am Friday morning, we called our families and let them know that everything had gone great, and that we were all well. And since Leon was born so late Thursday night, we ended up staying in the hospital for two nights, and took him home on Saturday morning.