Owen's Birth Story

Better late than never.

 

I wanted to write this for myself.

There were so many emotions this day.

But I want to always remember how I felt and how miraculous God really is.

 

I guess I should start with around week 23 of my pregnancy.

After reexamining my ultrasound pictures of our little boy to be,

I noticed what seemed quite a lot like 6 fingers on one of his hands.

I took the picture to Brian and had him look at it.

He's usually always calling me crazy when it comes to anything health related,

so when he said that indeed it did look like he had 6 fingers, I kinda freaked.

Straight to the internet I went.

After reading multiple parent boards,

it seemed like it was rather common and I was immediately calmed.

Of course I called my OB doctor the next morning.

I was overly upset that the doctor reading my ultrasound picture missed this after confirming with my OB doctor that is did look like our son would be born with 6 fingers.

But the fact that he would have 6 fingers hardly bothered me.

As long as he's healthy, this didn't matter.

Besides, it's a rather simple problem to take care of.

 

However, I soon learned that 6 fingers was often a symptom of a much more serious condition.

In fact, there are several serious syndromes related.

After learning this I pretty much shut down.

All I could do was just pray that things would be okay.

I had a level two ultrasound done that didn't show any signs of other conditions,

but the doctor told me we really wouldn't know until the baby was born.

It wasn't until I talked to a nurse at my office that while having the glucose test done that my fears were finally settled. 

Not gone, but I was feeling some relief.

 

I went about the rest of my pregnancy pretty calm.

But the few weeks just before Owen was born, they started to come back.

He was due October 13.

The 13th came and went.

1AM on the 16th I woke up to go to the bathroom.

When I came back to bed, Brian asked me if it was time.

I laughed and laid back down.

But all of a sudden I felt like I was having a real contraction.

I laid there waiting for another.

Still in disbelief, I waited for another 3 or 4.

 

Finally I got out of bed and started straightening my hair.

Ha, of all things.

But I figured, if this was really it, I might as well get myself ready.

Brian woke up and asked me what I was doing. 

I told him I thought maybe I was having real contractions.

He went back to sleep, hahahha.

By 2AM I woke him back up and told him to call his mom.

I had a pretty quick labor with Molly, and I was strep B positive so I knew I had to be there early for 4 hours of antibiotics.

 

Just after 2:30 we were on the road heading to the hospital.

I was a nervous wreck.

I just kept praying that God would give us a healthy baby.

 

Turns out I had actually been leaking amniotic fluid for over 24 hours so the doctors wanted to try any hurry my labor up with Pitocin because of risk of infection with being strep B positive.

By the time they got my IV going with the antibiotic, the anesthesiologist was coming in with my epidural, something I did not get in time with Molly. 

My contractions weren't terrible but I didn't want to miss getting it!

From that point on, I felt nothing!

 

With no pain to distract me, I was a worried mess.

Finally around 8am as I was almost finished my second round of antibiotics, they decided to check and see how far along I was.

They were shocked that I was already 10 centimeters.

Their plans to give me the Pitocin wasn't going to be needed after all.

They had me wait another 30 minutes to make sure the antibiotic was completely done.

 

As the doctor came in, I couldn't help but start to cry.

Everything was about to happen and we were about to have a son.

A son who I knew I would love no matter what,

but it broke my heart to think about any hardships this child may endure.

 

In two quick pushes, Owen was born. 

As they laid him on my chest,

I immediately looked at his little face,

a face I loved so fiercely already.

I looked at Brian,

then picked up Owen's tiny, trembling hand.

I glanced at the other hand.

They looked so normal, but I was tired.

Before I even had a chance to count his little fingers,

Brian said there was only 5 fingers- on each hand.

 

What?

It so clearly looked like 6 fingers on the ultrasound,

 and it had been confirmed by a high risk doctor.

They looked at his hands to see if it had somehow already fallen off.

No.

 

Healthy baby.  10 fingers.

I couldn't even believe how lucky I was.

 

As the nurses cleaned him off and wrapped him up,

all the chatter was about this mysterious finger.

Then it was silent as Brian and my mom were texting away.

 

When I got Owen back in my arms,

I immediately knew I was just going to be obsessed with this little baby.

He's my world, and I love him so!!

(yes, yes, his sisters too!)