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Amanda's Story and Pics

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On July 31, 2003 I gave birth to my first son, Vincent Douglas White. What a journey!

Let me start my our story by saying that OrthoTri-Cyclen is not reliable. Yep, I got pregnant on the pill. Apparently, I conceived sometime in October 2002, yet still had a period that month, and it wasn’t until December 4th, that I discovered I was pregnant. My (then) fiancé’ Doug, remarked to me that I didn’t have a period in November, and I didn’t even realize it. So after much debate, I purchased an over the counter test and immediately it came out positive. My initial reaction can’t be stated here due to profane language, but after the blood test came back positive, it was truly confirmed. We were going to have a baby. I didn’t know what to do.

“What do I do with a baby,” I asked myself.

I had never felt so many feelings at once. Happiness, joy, tears, and a whole lot of fear. I was only 23 years old, and in a joke of a job. But nonetheless, everything worked out. Not that I would have believed that to be the outcome during the 42 weeks of yuck.

Pregnancy was….how to put it….interesting. I only threw up 4 times, so that could have been worse, but boy did I feel old! My body ached so much, all of the time. And the fact we had so much going on didn’t help. Doug and I married May 17th 2003, I was 7 months huge. And we bought a house and moved in only 2 ˝ weeks before Vincent came.

So here I was, in the blazing hot Michigan summer, big as a house and getting very irritated that I felt no contractions. Vincent’s due date of July 22nd came and went. So Dr. Britt scheduled me to be induced on the 29th. Anxiously, we arrived at Battle Creek Health systems, ready to go.

I must say Pitocin sucks. After 11 hours of that crap, no contractions, not allowed to eat, and a nurse checking me with the longest fake nails ever, I was sent home and told to return the next day. Ooh, I was irked.

We came home and tried all the old wives’ tales rumored to bring on labor. Nope, nothing. So the next morning, back to the hospital we went. Again with the Pitocin. It began to work, a little, but nothing major, until about 5pm, Dr. Britt broke my water. That made it hurt, a lot. Contractions were definitely happening, but I was still only at 2 cm. And let me say that that whole water leakage thing could not be grosser. And to make it worse, it was green since Vincent just couldn’t wait to use a diaper. (The things women go through, we should be recognized by our men as GODDESSES for all this muck.)

Through the next few hours, my desire to throw the first sharpest thing I could find at my husband’s head was difficult to suppress. I love him dearly, but what a punk to stand there and tell me he “understands.” Whatever. I felt so gross. Sweaty, crampy, leaky, and I felt like all my insides were going to fall out the bottom if I stood up. By this time, I was in tears and ready to kill the next person that asked if I was ok.

My nurse Danielle was the greatest lady I ever met. I was so adamant about not wanting an epidural, episiotomies or a c-section. But hey, I was all about local shots and the like. So there we all were, Doug, my sister Trina, her daughter Andromeda and her boyfriend Charlie, and of course Danielle, telling jokes and trying to make light of the situation when I about fell out of bed from a contraction. Danielle offered a shot of Dalaudid and I was all for it. So instead of putting it in my IV, she stabs me in the arm with it and I jump to the other side of the bed and burst into tears because it hurt so bad and we all bust up laughing about it. Here I am, 23 years old and cry over a shot. How embarrassing. And of course it only lasted like 20 minutes.

Around 11pm. Dr. Britt comes in again and checks me. I am only at a “stretchy” 3 ˝ cm. Damn! I was hoping this would be over soon, guess not. Then Dr. Britt looks over the printouts of the heartbeat and what not and proceeds to tell me that Vincent’s heart rate had dropped 1 beat every hour. He checks me again and tells me that he doesn’t feel a head and Vincent hasn’t dropped into the birth canal. Just great. I am then told they were going to prep me for an emergency c-section. Hell no! I was bawling like a baby. Naturally the last thing I wanted done, was going to be. Just my luck. I am then told a catheter will be inserted. No way. It took 4 people to pin me to the bed for it, only to realize they really don’t hurt that much. Now, into the OR.

I don’t think anyone had ever seen Doug pace so much, they wouldn’t let him in until after I was administered the spinal. Scared as hell, I managed through it, and instantly I was numb from the breasts down. Then of course strapped to a bed like I was being crucified, which I must say I hated.

Doug was let in and the fun began. What a creepy feeling of having your guts cut open and feel it but not have it hurt. The pressure of them pushing to help Vincent out about made me gag. But out he came in like 5 minutes. His cord was knotted and around his neck and around his head, chin to top. He was tangled good, good thing I didn’t deliver naturally. But a healthy baby boy we had and was he ever cute!

Recovery sucked more than anything. My guts never hurt so bad for so long. And that stretchy girdle thing they gave me to hold my tummy in? Just hideous. My belly is a road map, my skin hangs over my scar and I will forever be squishy.

I must say none of that matters now that Vincent is in my life. I thank the Gods everyday for him. And being a mom is the most wonderful thing in the world, and I would do it all again in an instant for the wondrous joy it brings in the end.

Amanda White

Battle Creek, MI

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