The Day Ryan was Born

Ryan's birth was a very traumatic experience for both of us.  It started out easily enough.  My water broke early in the morning, but I wasn't really in labor.  In hindsight, I know that I needed to take a long walk and to keep walking to get things moving.  My labors start off very slow, gentle and gradual, but I didn't know that yet.

Instead of taking a walk, I went to the hospital and stayed in bed.  Soon I was given Pitocin to induce labor.  For the rest of the day I was officially in labor, but it didn't feel like I thought (or read, or heard) labor was supposed to feel.  Rather than contractions that came in waves, I had constant pain that went from bad to worse.  That night, a nurse told me I would have a baby "tomorrow."  That made me so mad and I determined I was having my baby "tonight."  And I did.  After 2 1/2 hours of pushing my baby boy was born just before midnight. 

Despite having a bruised head from the monitor that had been corkscrewed into his scalp and a lung that threatened to collapse, Ryan was beautiful and healthy.  Everyone who saw him commented on what a gorgeous boy he was.

I was also bruised and felt like collapsing, but I was not quite so gorgeous.  I had made it through the grueling 20 hour labor through sheer muscle and willpower.  I did it without any medication, but it certainly wasn't the beautiful, natural experience I had hoped for.

When Ryan was a couple of hours old, a new nurse came into my room.  Her first question was, "So are you going to have more kids?" 

I was shocked and replied, "Well, I've always planned to!" 

Her next comment was even more insensitive.  "Those are the worst stretch marks I've ever seen.  You look like a zebra!"  I had no response to that one. 

I didn't get much sleep that night, but the next morning I opened my eyes to find a priest standing over my bed. I thought maybe I had died.

"Good morning" said the priest. What is your baby's name?"

"John Ryan" I replied.

"That's a good Catholic name" the priest said with a smile. "May I baptize him now?" asked the priest.

"Sure" I mumbled, still trying to figure out why I was having such a strange dream.

He proceeded with the ordinance and by then I was awake enough to ask, "Father, exactly why are you here?"

"Oh, I'm visiting all the Catholic mothers this morning" he explained.

"But I'm not Catholic, I'm Mormon. Ryan will be baptized again when he's 8, but no harm done!"

Lessons I learned from Ryan's birth: 

• Giving birth is about letting go, yielding your body, heart and soul to something higher
• You can't "control" the birth process
• Childbirth education classes are great, but won't prepare you for natural childbirth
• Babies are worth any sacrifice
• If I did THAT, I can do just about anything!