FYI, this was supposed to be my first post, but I put it on the back burner because actually setting up my blog page was too much for me that day. but here we go...
The reason I decided to start writing was to, I don't know, I guess get all this out of my head, and hope that maybe it can help someone else. In my experience, I know that community really means everything, and that I can't do anything alone, so I tend to find resources to help me move through this insane life. I hope that whoever you are, maybe you can find some identification and keep breathing another breath. Trust me, I know how hard that is.
A little background on me. I became a mother to my first son, Logan, during the height of the Covid pandemic in May of 2020 in Brooklyn, NY, one of the hardest hit areas during that time. I had some reticence to get pregnant, but I knew how much my husband wanted to be a father, and I thought it would be fun to parent together, so we took that step. After a very long and kind of difficult pregnancy (who knew you could be "geriatric" at 35 years old??!), when the nurse placed Logan in my arms for the first time, my very first thought was, "I would do this again." This shocked me, but I knew instantly that I wanted to have another baby.
Some women really like to be pregnant. They get that glow and seem to be able to carry on with life as normal until one day, they are sitting at their desk and their water breaks. I am not one of those women. But I did learn how to treat my body better the second time around, and held fast to my workout and healthy nutrition regimen. It seemed with Logan all I wanted to eat was carbs and sugar, but with Teddy it was chicken Caesar salad all day long. We found out at 10 weeks that our little bean was going to be another boy and I was secretly overjoyed. I know it's not really fair to the child to want it to be one sex or the other, but I had dreamed about having two little boys since I knew I wanted to be a mother.
When I told my boss I was pregnant again, she was not too pleased. It had "worked out" with Logan because the pandemic completely shut everything down. I work in the performing arts and our entire industry shut down. My company wouldn't go back to the stage until mid October of 2021, which was right around my due date of October 1, 2021, so I would have to miss our grand return to the stage. Not ideal for my work, but whatever! I had much more important things to do.
We got pregnant with Teddy when Logan was just 9 months old. We wanted to make sure that our children would be similar in age so as to ensure they would be life-long friends. My husband has 4 siblings, and I have 2. My husband never wanted to raise an only child, and after having Logan, I knew I was on board for the ride of a lifetime.
When I hit my third trimester I started having Braxton Hicks contractions. For those who don't know, these are very common and are not "real" labor. They are basically the uterus practicing for when the big moment comes. Like training for a marathon. And my uterus seemed to be planning for a 150-mile race through mountains, desert, and jungle. They were ever-present. Most of the time they didn't hurt (much), but it seemed I couldn't walk our dog around the block without having to stop and rest to let my ute calm down. It was crazy. We went to the hospital twice because I thought I had gone into labor. Each time the nurses were lovely and took good care of me.
My OB was great and I feel like I saw that woman every week for about 3 months. She kept tabs on me and I reached out to her for so many things. After Teddy was born I actually missed her! Big shout out to Dr. Clark at NYU Langone!
One day, my uterus was working overtime, but I just refused to do anything about it. My husband was gone at class (or something) in the morning, and then had returned for another online class that afternoon. I remember I served Logan this delicious noodle dish from an amazing German restaurant we had ordered from the day before. He got it EVERYWHERE and I have an adorable photo of him with the sauce covering his entire head. So that afternoon into the evening, my uterus kicked it up a notch. These were no longer just the tightening sensation. There was pain involved. Quite a lot, in fact. To the point I couldn't move when it started to happen. So I'm out in the living room crying every few minutes, Logan is climbing up on the coffee table, and Paul comes out of the office to check on me. I'm pretty sure I told him, "I'm - breath- okay - it's just - breath- the Braxton Hicks - grunt and cry of pain."
"Ummm," he replied, "I'm going to call my dad and we are going to the hospital." "No! They'll just sent us home again, and I don't want to look like an idiot!" "Too bad!" I should mention here, that after a solid 8+ months, Teddy behaved and was head down. But in the last few weeks he had not just turned breach, he was transverse, which meant he was sideways. It was quite a very uncomfortable way to spend the otherwise already uncomfortable last few weeks of pregnancy. It also meant that my dream of having a VBAC, or vaginal birth after cesarean, was impossible, so I would definitely have to have another c-section.
As we waited for Paul's dad to arrive, my contractions came stronger and stronger, and the weather was getting worse and worse. By the time we climbed into the car it was pouring rain and was dark outside. My husband does NOT like driving at night. Or in the rain. So it was a perfect storm of all the things happening at once. There was thunder and lightning and rain coming down in sheets so thick we could barely see the road. Thankfully, due to our previous false labor visits, we knew exactly where to go. I remember not letting Paul drop me off, but I wanted to go with him while he parked the car and had to walk down several flights of stairs and across the street so I would't have to be alone. Perhaps I have some co-dependency issues. Meh!
So up we went to the L&D unit. They hooked me up to the machines and one of the nurse practitioners was ready to send us home, when an OB came in and redid the cervical exam and looked closely at the results of the contraction monitors. She looked at me incredulously and said "Can you feel that?" "Umm.... yeah." "Does it hurt?" "Well, kinda? it's hard to tell since I have been having these Braxton hicks contractions for months." "Well, you are having some strong contractions and are definitely in labor, and we are going to have a baby!"
After that things went fast and furious. They got me prepped for the OR and in I went to get my epidural and then strapped down to the table. They draped the big sheet across my chest so I couldn't see them pull apart my innards and dig out my baby. I was so grateful that Paul could be with me for this birth. When I had Logan it was right at the peak of the pandemic. I had to go into the OR alone and it was one of the scariest times in my life. But this time, Paul was here! He held my hand, and I begged him to peek over the curtain and report back, but he refused because of his weak stomach :) There was so much tugging and pulling, I actually got sick. Luckily, this was right as he was being born, so when the doctor brought him over I had Paul wipe the vomit off my face. Ew. Not exactly how I wanted to greet my little bundle of joy.
Let me back up a little bit and explain something about Teddy. From the very start, he was little troublemaker. On my first OB visit, she couldn't find a heartbeat and had to send us into Manhattan to use their far superior ultrasound machine. This scared the shit out of us, but, spoiler alert (!) he was there the whole time, hiding in the back. During the course of my pregnancy there were several times he worried us, and his birth was no different. After they pulled him out of my belly, they took him over to their little table and kept him there for what seemed like an eternity. Paul asked what was going on and a nurse replied, "Everything is okay, they are just checking to make sure everything-" and the doctor interrupted and said "No, we are trying to get him breathing. It's not unusual for c-section babies to have trouble expelling the fluid from their lungs, so he is going to need some help." Paul went over to meet our son, and shortly after the doctor brought Teddy to me (right as I was vomiting). He held him next to my cheek and my heart exploded. Theodore Xavier Zurheide was born at 10:53pm, Thursday, September 23, 2021. 7 pounds 6 oz, 19 inches long. Our little Teddy Bear.
They whisked him away and there I lay on that cold table, waiting and waiting and waiting to be patched up and wheeled to recovery. It took a VERY long time, and they were working on me the whole time (I will get into this in more detail in another post). They took him to the NICU and we didn't see him again until I was able to get into the wheelchair the next morning...
Not sure where to end this post, but on 9/26 we brought our boy home to complete our family, healthy and screaming :)
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