Happy New Year!
With today being the first day of the New Year, what better day to finally get my blog up and running. January 1st marks a day of new beginnings, so for my first blog entry, I'm going to tell the story that made MODO Moments possible. The day I became a mother to my second daughter. It goes something like this...
Three days before my due date, I wasn’t feeling quite right. It was a Friday, I was at work, and I remember telling my co-workers, “I don’t think I’ll make it through the weekend.” Those who placed bets with their “best-guess” dates approaching grew hungrier for the winnings. It was just a matter of time. That night the dull cramping persisted, but not enough to start counting the minutes—just a constant ache that made it difficult to get a sound night of sleep.
By day break, I knew this was the “real deal” as the pain became more intense and I was able to clock it. By 8 am, the contractions were 8 minutes apart. Still not knowing how long this could go on for, I assured my husband that he could go help with his mom’s rummage sale, but to keep the phone at hand. Meanwhile, I tried to keep our 3-year-old daughter Ella occupied with an art project as I winced through the periodic pain and got the remains of my hospital bag together. With the passing of each half hour, the contractions got closer and closer together. Just two hours later, they were 5 minutes apart. I called the doctor to share the news.
It was “time.”
Ella was thrilled when I told her the baby was finally coming. Little did she know, it still might be hours before she could find out whether she’d have a little sister or brother. To tell you the truth, I’m not so sure she cared. She was more excited to get to spend the night with Grandma.
So my husband got called home, we gathered up our bags, dropped Ella off at Grandma and Grandpa’s and headed to the hospital—a short 5 minute drive away—when things really kicked into gear. Once we arrived at the labor and delivery room, had my vitals checked, got attached to all sorts of tubes and was interrogated with a thousand questions, I was begging for an epidural. Finally, after two agonizing hours the anesthesiologist came with relief in hand. I just hoped I could remain still long enough for him to jam that foot-long needle into my spine. Heaven followed.
After about an hour, my water finally broke and it was time for me to start pushing. I pushed and pushed and still no baby came. Two hours of this and tears started to roll down my face uncontrollably. Not again! I thought. I pushed for two and a half hours with Ella and was assured by countless friends that the second child would be easier. What happened to the stories about only having to push a few times before the baby popped out? You can imagine my disappointed when I reached that two-and-a-half-hour mark and nothing…. Three hours…nothing… Finally, the doc came in to help me along—forceps at the ready. He must have known that somewhere deep inside me I could muster up a few more good pushes before using other means. So there I went, giving it one last try. One…two…three…and after 9 ½ hours of labor (sure beat Ella’s 16!) and 3 hours and 15 minutes of pushing…there was my preciously stubborn baby girl.
Jaisa Mae was born at 6:36 pm weighing 7 lbs, 5 oz, 21 inches long. And of course she was worth every last push.
A few hours later, big sister Ella came to meet her new little partner in crime. We took this picture of Ella proudly holding Jaisa for the first time. A picture says a thousand words. And the adventure continues…
