Wednesday, September 17, 2014

Tucker's Birth Story

A week before Tuckerbeans was born, I remember panicking about how I was going to stay sane being at home with 3 boys, all day everyday. With a loveing, yet sassy dramatic 8 year old, an almost 2 year old who probably is the most stubborn boy I've ever met. Not to mention, he will eff your stuff up if you mess with him, and then adding in a newborn. It was already hard, stressful, and energy sucking with 2 boys, and I was about to have another bouncing baby boy. I was about to be outnumbered by the testosterone 4-1.

September 15, 2013 at about 11:45PM , Russell comes home from the gym to find me in our room bouncing on an exercise ball and watching that model show with Tyra Banks. (for the life of me I can't remember the name of it) I was 38 weeks and 3 days and desperate to go into labor. Or is it labour? Color? Colour? I had tried everything, and this was my last attempt. As Russell is looking at me and laughing like I was a serious idiot, I decided to give up after 10 minutes of bouncing and just go to bed.

12 Am on the dot, 15 minutes later, I got my first contraction of the night. Or morning, whatever. I was still awake. Russell came downstairs to hop into bed and I waited until he got all nice and snuggled in to announce I thought I was in labor. Timing is everything..
He looks at me and says NOW? Can I sleep for a few hours first??

After about an hour, I was in some serious labor. (I hate the word labor, every time I hear that word, I think of a dog having puppies..??) I was contracting every 3 minutes and at that point, wanted to pop that stupid effin exercise ball that got me into this mess. Well, Russell got me into this mess, but I couldn't unleash hell on him because I needed a ride to the hospital. 

My mom arrives at our house around 4AM and we are off like a prom dress. Onward to the hospital to *deliver* (feeling like a dog with puppies again) our third, and yes, final child. But first, my darling husband has to stop at Super America to grab an AMP. Yes, I am a selfless person like that. Even though I'm contracting a minute apart, my stuff is ripping apart, and I can barely sit in the seat of the car, I let my husband stop to get an AMP. He probably would have stopped to grab a piece of pie from Perkins if I would have let him, but, times a wastin! Tucker was probably made in the front seat of the car, but I wasn't about to deliver him in the front seat of the car....  ..... ;)

After 2 hours of iv's, catheters getting shoved in places i'd rather not speak of, my stuff getting razored with the cheapest throw away razor known to man, and an idiot anesthesiologist, I finally, finally, got to see my baby boy. Born at 6:07AM, 6.66 lbs, and 20.6 inches long, Tucker Eagan Johnson was born! (I was in labor,labour for 6 hours..odd with the 6's huh?) I got to see his sweet face for about 6 seconds and the nurse took him. I told Russell to follow that baby and do not let them poke, bathe, or even feed baby. DON'T LET HIM OUT OF YOUR SIGHT I think is what I *barked* as they were leaving. And then I passed out.....

An hour went by of me getting all stitched up and my shit put back to its original place, I was finally in my room with Tucker on the boob. He took to my nipple like a champ! (Unlike my other 2 boys.) We were reunited and yes, it felt good. 

Time seems to stop when you see your child for the first time. The world sits still and nothing else matters but that first connection you make as mother and child. When your child is born, its like you get a little taste of heaven. Pure, full of innocence, and full of life. 

Tucker is by far the hardest baby of the three. The first year was rough, but so rewarding and so worth the sleepless nights, tears, crusty dry nipples, and feedings every hour. I can't even believe it has been a year. Happy Birthday my sweet Tuckerbeans. I shall now kiss you all over your face humming to the tune of club music. He always gets a chuckle from it. I heart you my sweet Ta-Ta Baby-B. 

Warning: Picture overload below :)