It is funny how having a child makes a couple truly a “family.” After being told I was extremely unlikely to have a child, even with the help of fertility drugs, we found out I was indeed pregnant. On the day that Bush declared war on Iraq. I was bawling after listening to the radio in my car as I made my way to HDR in El Dorado Hills to tell Dave. My OB was right by Sac State because he was one of the “best” in dealing with PCOS. And it worked! Poor Dave had no idea of why I was so upset at being pregnant – welcome to pregnancy hormones I guess.
There were a couple early scares with the pregnancy but overall it went well. We took a class on the “Bradley Method” of labor because, you know – gotta do things naturally and try to avoid drugs. All I kept thinking as the coach told us how animals all give birth without drugs – MANY ANIMALS EAT THEIR NEWBORN YOUNG! After all, I had just finished my doctorate in Animal Behavior, focusing on the physiological basis of behavior. And during my BS in Animal Science, I had watched many animals give birth. They did not look cool or collected for the most part!! Phooey, on this. So I did what I do and researched everything I could find about birthing methods. I felt decently confident about when I would go into labor since we knew exactly when I had ovulated (Thanks Clomid and ultrasounds!). He had other ideas however!
As the summer progressed I started getting a bit stressed about getting all of my stuff out of the graduate desk area since Cameron Park was 45 minutes from UC Davis and I was so big that driving was becoming an issue. So on August 21st, I made plans to have lunch with some of the professors and other grad students and just pack it all up. It was 6 1/2 weeks before my due date so that would be plenty of time to go through everything at home and not drive back to Davis for a couple of months. As we packed up the office, I realized the baby was dropping, and going pretty fast. At least 4 of the Animal Science profs asked me my due date because they thought I looked, and was starting to act, like it was time to “bring me into the barn.” By the end of loading up my truck (and nobody letting me do ANYTHING) I decided to forego lunch and just get home. I had not had a backache for the entire pregnancy (we won’t talk about how long I had “morning sickness!) and I was starting to understand why pregnant women complained about their back hurting during the third trimester. And I had to stop twice on the way home to use the bathroom. Sheesh…. When I got home I left all my desk stuff and binders in the back of the truck and just laid down for a nap.
Well, that didn’t work at all. I could sleep for about 40-45 minutes and then my back acted up again. I talked to Dave and he convinced me to call Dr. Bob’s office. I spoke with the nurse and she told me that a flu was going through the office last week when I had been there so maybe my achiness was due to that. Sleep and drink lots of fluids. By the time Dave got home I couldn’t keep anything down so we assumed that I was the unlucky one to get the flu really late in the pregnancy. I was up ALL night pacing and trying to stretch my back and the baby kept dropping. I spoke with the office two more times but since I had absolutely no cramping or stomach pains, they told me to stay home and keep forcing Gatorade and other fluids. By 9 am on the 22nd, Dave had had enough when he realized my “backaches’ were about 5 minutes apart and the baby had dropped completely. The office told us to come to Sutter Memorial so off we went.
I went into transitional labor going down Highway 50 at about 90 mph. Dave was hoping for a police escort! When we got to the hospital, they had the paperwork ready and I could only sign an X. Upstairs I went, straight into the delivery room fully dilated. For almost 8 hours! Trying to push for over 6 hours. Turns out, Matt was completely upside down (face up) so I had a pure back labor – no stomach pains. I was prepped for a C section but after I was partially dropped on the ground, he had moved the 1/4 inch needed for a forceps delivery. And a 6 lb 6 oz , 6 week early, baby was born at 11 pm on August 22, 1991. It was scary to see all the neonatal specialists there all hoping he was at least a 5 pounder. He had very thin skin but otherwise looked like a small newborn. He actually was pretty cute because his conehead was on the very back of his head so his face was pretty.
We were out of the hospital the next evening and headed home. He had a pretty substantial jaundice scare (and 2 days back into the hospital and 3 weeks under lights) but once he learned how to poop, he ate nonstop and plumped up. And plumped up. And still some more. He was 10 pounds by his due date. 34 pounds at one year. He was a bit of a chub!
Matt had some difficulties understanding how to control his temper growing up, but he was always my buddy. When he wasn’t mad at the world, he was the most amazing baby. He spoke early and clearly with complete sentences at a year. As the first child and never having really been around newborns, I just assumed it was all normal. But when I think back to what we actually discussed even while he was still in diapers, we had so much fun. He always wanted to know everything. Some things never change.
As for the feeling of family – as soon as I looked into those bright blue eyes, I was hooked. I would do everything in my power to make sure he did not have a dysfunctional family like I had growing up. I would say the kids were a bit spoiled by Dave and my giving of time, but hopefully never about material stuff. Material stuff comes and goes. We spent a lot of time outdoors, camping and hiking, and even just traveling in the car. As the kids got into sports, we all went to the games if at all possible. When family issues arose, it was the 4 of us, pulling together and doing our thing. We weren’t perfect, and that is FOR SURE, but we really tried to surround our family with the positive love in life. I am so happy that both kids have amazing partners and I hope we can continue to function as a family unit while giving both the kids and their spouses room to grow. At the moment of Matt’s birth (and reaffirmed with Cherie’s birth) it was no longer about Dave and I. It was all about us.
