Birth Story of my little man

Michelle over at My Semblance of Sanity is sponsoring a baby story tale. Go over there, check out the comments, and post your own birth story!

Anyone can enter, IF you have a birth/adoption story to tell. (I would imagine it would need to be your OWN story, not your cousin's sister's daughter's story). Michelle doesn't exactly have a prize picked out yet, but I have seen some of the prizes she's given away for other contests, and they are pretty COOL!

Here's the rules:
Post your birth/adoption stories on YOUR blog, and post a link to Michelle's blog. If you do not have your own blog, but would still like to participate, you may post your birth story in the comments section of Michelle's blog here. Don't forget to post a link in the comments on Michelle's blog, or else she won't know you posted a story...

Michelle will pick ONE story each day to be "showcased" the next day on her blog. At the end of the contest (which runs until 2/26). On 2/27, we will get to vote on the showcased stories, and on 2/28, Michelle will announce the winner on her Gabbin' Mama blog.

Invite all of your blogger friends to participate - the more, the merrier! Plus, you know how us Mamas L~O~V~E to tell our birth/adoption stories. Daddies are invited to tell their stories, too. Although, Nate, over at CFHusband should not be allowed to participate, since anyone who reads HIS story would just HAVE to vote for him!! He'd win by a landslide! LOL (Just kidding, Nate)

I have decided to play along with this one because I don't know that I have ever written out DJ's birth story. So lets go back in time, way back to 2001.

"Now wait a minute!" you say "DJ is only 3! How does this story go back to 2001?"

Simple, 2001 is when....

Well I guess if I really want to do this right I should go back even further, back to 1998...

One Friday in August of 1998, Jerry was supposed to be traveling from the base we were stationed at to Norwich, England for a going away party with the guys from work. However I had been in pain and sick all day long. About an hour before they were to leave I told Jerry he had to take me to the Emergency Room at the base hospital, because there was something really wrong with me. I could not keep anything down, and could hardly move from the pain.

The ER doctor, was a British man, who after poking me in the lower abdomen several times, decided that I was ovulating and dehydrated. He ordered an iv, gave me some meds, and sent me on my way.

Oh boy was Jerry mad! He missed the going away party, because I was "ovulating"?

That weekend, I was still in pain, but it was tolerable, and I was not getting sick, so I blew it off. I had an appointment set up with the clinic for Wednesday to have my hip checked out (which I have a bad habit of dislocating,) so I figured I would ask the doctor to run some tests about this pain at that time.

Tuesday early morning, Jerry came home from work, and drove to Gatwick Airport in London to pick up one of the supervisors and his family from their vacation to the states.

I woke up around 6, in excruciating pain, could not sit up properly pain. I decided to go to the neighbors house and ask if she could keep the girls for me, while I went to the ER to be seen. My neighbor took one look at me, and went to wake up the neighbor between the two of us, to have her watch all 5 of our kids while she drove me to the ER herself, for she did not think that I would make it on my own.

It took 8 hours in the ER, and the radiologist (who I had just had dinner with two nights before) before they figured out what was wrong with me. My left ovary had a huge cyst on it, and it had torqued taking the fallopian tube with it. This caused the out going blood flow to be cut off, which was where my pain was coming from. The next morning they did surgery and removed the ovary and fallopian tube.

Fast forward in time with me to the Fall of 2001. I once again was having pains in my lower abdomen. I went to the clinic, and was referred to the ob/gyn clinic. Once at the ob/gyn clinic the doctor did several tests and then basically told me that he hoped I was done having children, because there was a lot of scarring both on my remaining ovary and tube, that pregnancy without medical intervention would be hard to achieve.

To Jerry and I this was fine. I figured that now I knew why I had gotten pregnant with the girls at 19, and 22.


Needless to say we did not work to prevent a pregnancy after this time, because if I was meant to get pregnant, then it would happen. I faithfully had my cycle every month for the next 2 years. I still had the pains at times, but never enough to send me back to the OB/GYN clinic concerned that I had another huge cyst.

December 2003, Oh boy was I in for it. I had several bouts of the "flu" that month, and shortly before Christmas Jerry looked at me and said I think you are pregnant.

"Huh?"

"What?"

"You are crazy!"


To shut him up, I bought a home pregnancy test.

Wouldn't you know it? It turned up positive within 2 minutes, forget that 5 minute crap.

To say that I was so shocked, and scared, would be the biggest understatement of the century.

I went to the clinic and had the test confirmed there, before telling anyone other than Jerry. Which of course told us what we already knew.

We told the girls and our parents pretty much that day, and we waited a couple of days before telling most people. Mostly because I did not want my principal hearing about it from anyone except me (even though I had a summer due date).



When I went in for my dating ultrasound (at 12 weeks), the doctor that did my ultrasound was the same doctor that told me in 2001 that I was done. When I reminded him of this fact, he said well this is a happy surprise? I remember telling him, sure it is, but if this is not a boy, you are in trouble mister. LOL

I think I was the most spoiled pregnant lady on the base. My students/sons brought me chocolate, and breakfast almost daily. They got mad at me if I was on my feet more than a few minutes. They would come in and talk to my belly on a daily basis, reading stories to my belly, telling my belly football stories. The entire nine yards.

Compared to my pregnancy with Natalie, this one was a cake walk. I had some morning sickness, but up until my 35th week, I did not have any preterm labor scares, no GD, no high blood pressure, none of the usual suspects.

Right up until my 40 week check up, the day before DJ was due. I had walked up the stairs and my blood pressure was a little high. The doctor that came in for my appointment looked at me and said "Lets induce this little guy today!"

To say I was surprised, is an understatement. I had fully expected to go back to work late (school started for teachers 4 weeks to the day later), because I expected them to refuse to induce me for at least a week past the due date.

I had to go down to the lab to have labs run, I had to call and make arrangements for the girls to go stay at the neighbors until Niki could get back from helping pack out Will, I had to call Jerry to come meet me, all before I could go up to the labor and delivery ward.

When I checked in I was dilated to 2 cm.

I told the midwife that was the attending when they checked me in that with both of the girls, nothing ever got going until either the doctor broke my water (with Kelsey), or it broke on its own (with Natalie). I also knew that DJ had not dropped enough to break my water on his own. The midwife told me that, yep thats in your chart, but lets try this my way first.

After 10 hours on the pic drip, I had only progressed to a 4. (insert rolling eyes). So I sent Jerry home to get the girls and get some sleep.

The next morning the next doc came on duty. Dr. T looked at my chart, looked at me and said did you request for so in so to break your water? Because its in here that with your oldest when they induced you nothing happened until your water was broken.

"Yes, sir. But so in so, didn't listen."

Dr. T broke my water, at 630 am on the 27th of July.

I called Jerry and let him know that he should drop the girls off with Niki and come on over.

By 830 I was requesting an epidural, and the nurse on duty said that I was not far enough along.

At 920, I felt like I needed to push, so Jerry went out and got the nurse, who could not believe it, since she had just checked me. She came in and sure enough DJ was crowning.

Dr. T and his crew came in to catch DJ.

The next thing I knew, Dr. T was telling me to stop pushing. DJ's cord was wrapped around his neck three times. Every time I pushed, it was cutting the circulation off to him.

Dr. T was able to unwrap one of the wraps, so that he could finish delivering DJ.

When DJ first was born, Dr. T had to cut his cord right away and hand him off to the pediatrician that he had the nurses get as soon as he realized that we were in a stress situation.

Declan John arrived July 27th at 958 am UK time. Weighed in at 8 pounds 4.8 oz and 21 inches long.

Luckily for us, the pediatrician and the technician that were there were able to get DJ to start breathing almost right away. But that was the scariest 2 minutes of my life. Listening to those two saying, come on little boy, don't you dare let us down. And not hearing him cry like both of the girls did as soon as they were born.

I knew as soon as he was born that he was truly my last.

edited to add the rules of the game