A Birth Story

I'm pretty sure my 16-year old could care less about the story of his birth, and if he did, I'd probably wonder about him. But someday he'll be curious, and I'll have it written down.

Nick was due on February 4, 1993 so you would think on the night of Feb. 5th I'd be home resting. You know, getting ready for my first baby, one of the biggest moments in my life. Was I? No, I was at the bar watching his father play pool. He was in a pool league on the team of Club Manchu, and (God Forbid) we couldn't miss one night. Sometime around 10:00pm I started having contractions. By then pool was over, but the partying had just begun since it was Friday night after all. I quietly suffered while everyone had a good time. By 2:00am his father was sufficiently intoxicated so we could go home. I tried to sleep, but it was too uncomfortable. At 4:00am I got up and walked around...in tiny little circles. You see, we lived in an Air Stream Travel Trailer. I kid you not. It was 7ft wide and 20ft long. We lived in there with three cats. We had a drip stove that ran out of a ten gallon barrel and banked the snow around the outside for insulation. Later my nephew moved in and slept on a shelf. Really. Anyhow, I walked in circles until 6:00am when I woke his father up. I'm pretty sure he was still drunk and he had no interest in getting up. He asked me if I was sure and said I should call the hospital and ask them, rolled over and went back over to sleep. I called. My contractions were three minutes apart. They told me to go to the hospital. He was not super excited when I woke him back up.

My dear friend, Kris Hoffman, met us there. They got me all settled and what not. Not too much going on except a bunch of pain for me. His dad was a mess so he went home to "check the fuel in the trailer". I'm pretty sure he took a big nap, but Kris never left my side.

Do you know you can lay there a long damn time having contractions without really getting anywhere? It pretty much sucked. Oh, did I mention I am a big wuss when it comes to pain? Yep. I finally got an epidural at some point. His father came back and I started pushing around noon. I pushed and pushed and pushed. I was so completely exhausted. At that point I had been up for about 24 hours and I could barely hold my eyes open and Kris had to lift me up. Finally, after THREE HOURS of pushing, Nicholas was born at 3:15pm. At ten pounds two ounces he was a big baby, but the problem with the delivery was immediately obvious. He had the biggest head I've ever seen. And it was smashed. In fact, Nick still has a huge head...thank goodness his body has finally grown to match it!

I'm sure the birth would have happened no matter what, but it wouldn't have been the good experience it was without Kris there. She had already given birth to five kids of her own so she knew what was going on and took care of me. For that I am forever grateful.

We had a ton of visitors which was really cool. I was discharged about noon the next day (they rush you out, don't they?). Did we go home? Nope. We went to the Klondike Restaurant and had prime rib sandwiches with Sheila and Reggie. I think Jon may have been there, too. The waitress wouldn't believe he was a newborn since he was so big until I showed her the hospital bracelet on his ankle.

So there it is...the birth of my first child, a son. I called him Sunshine right from the start and still do. He has been my best friend through the years, and I can't imagine him growing up and moving away. (I've told him he can live with us forever...we'll even move some place warm just so he can skateboard!).

Happy 16th Birthday, Nicholas.