Kenton, my first born, you are officially nine years old! I am not going to ask, “Where did the time go?” Because I already know the answer. Every second you have been a part of my life has been a privilege and honor, truly!
When I think about your growth, I can’t help but think of my own. When you entered this world, nothing could have prepared me for the mix of love and worry I would experience while learning to care for you.
At my first ultrasound appointment, your dad was with me. The doctor that conducted your ultrasound put your due date as October 5th. As the months grew closer, one of my favorite things was feeling you kick, flip, and hiccup from inside. I’d hum to you throughout the day, A dream is a wish your heart makes when you’re fast asleep, by Mack David, Al Hoffman and Jerry Livingston from the Walt Disney film Cinderella. This was the first song I sang to you while they wheeled me to our room after your delivery.
A few weeks before I found out you were a boy I had a dream I was at a store shopping. While shopping I carried a little boy in blue overalls and blonde hair. I can still see the image in my mind as I write today. I approached the cash register to purchase my items. The salesperson commented to me, “What a cute baby you have.” I responded with, “Thank you. This is my son.”
Your dad and I found out your gender at your anatomy scan. I remember laying in the reclining chair with my brown shirt lowered to reveal my growing belly. As the technician conducted her scan, I was blown away at what I saw. Your little fingers opened and closed. Your feet kicked. I could see the outline of your upper lip and nose. Next, I said before she could confirm, “Wait! Is that a penis?” It was obvious. Upon confirmation, tears began to flow down my cheeks. “A son,” I thought! “I can’t believe it!” On my side of the family, you have older cousins, but none yet were a first-born grandson. You’d be the first. My heart began to overflow with love and connection. The tears still ran, but with only more force. I squeezed your dad’s hand. I cried so much that at one point the technician asked me if I wanted to take a break. I sniffed, “No.” I didn’t want her to stop because I didn’t want to stop admiring you. “My son, Kenton! I can’t wait to meet you!” At that point, I felt deeply connected to you. For whatever reason, after the anatomy scan, I truly felt like I was pregnant for the first time. Not only was a human developing inside of me, but my son was in there! From that appointment on, you continued to grow right on track. My only complaint while carrying you, besides wishing time would go faster, was experiencing heartburn and the urge to use the restroom all the time.
The day of your birth, I had a routine checkup. Becky was the midwife on duty that morning. I told her I felt good, but was worried because you didn’t move as often. Keep in mind, you were my first baby, so I really didn’t know what to expect (And yes. I read the book: What to expect when you’re expecting by Heidi Murkoff. I also went to a few birthing classes. But it’s different when it happens to you.). She confirmed I was three centimeters dilated and was already experiencing contractions according to the monitor she put around my belly. “I thought I would feel my contractions,” I said. “At the beginning of labor, it may take some time before they become noticeable. Your body is preparing for delivery. Joy, you’re full-term and your body is progressing. Would you like to have a membrane sweep?” She asked. After talking through what a membrane sweep is I said, “Yes.” I was ready to meet you.
After my appointment, I met your aunt Jeanette and cousin Jane at Easton Town Center to do a little shopping and have lunch. I ate a margarita panini and carrots at a sandwich shop that is no longer there. While eating, I began to feel tightening build around my lower back. I told Jeanette and she suggested I go home to rest. “But it’s not painful,” I responded. Still, she encouraged me to head home. Once home, the tightening continued. I prepared my hospital bag and cleaned around the house until your dad got home from work. A few hours before he got home my contractions were noticeable, but not too painful. I called my midwife a little unsure of myself. She suggested I eat something and check again that our items were ready to go. Once your dad was home, I felt calmer, but my contractions were increasing in frequency and force. Together we kept track of the contractions as they came and went for a walk around our neighborhood. Every once and awhile I’d stop, hold onto your dad’s shoulders, and breathe through a contraction. Once inside, your dad suggested we go into the hospital, but I wanted to wait. “I don’t want to go in too soon and they send us home. And besides, my contractions aren’t that bad yet.” Don’t ask me why, but I thought labor would be very painful. This is not always the case. So, I kept stalling. After getting a shower, I couldn’t deny the labor pain any longer. I called my midwife, Pat and couldn’t talk as a contraction hit me. “Joy, I think it’s time you head to the hospital. I’ll meet you there.” Her calm words of confirmation were all I needed to hear. Upon hearing this, we made our way to The Ohio State University Wexner Medical Center. On our way there my contractions became more and more intense. It was getting painful at this point. Once at the hospital, we entered the labor and delivery wing. Pressure in my belly was undeniable. There was a couple ahead of us checking in. While we waited our turn, I couldn’t hold back my groaning. The woman checking in said to the attendant, “Umm. I think you should help her first.” As I waddled to the front desk, I felt a flow of liquid in my underpants. I looked down and saw red. “I have blood,” I said. The attendant, not yet done said, “You know what. Let’s go ahead and get you back for triage.” As the two big doors opened, I could feel myself calm a little. I took a few steps forward when I felt the urge to push for the first time. I turned to your dad, grabbing his shoulders and blurted out, “I need to push!” Seconds later a nurse ran towards me with an office desk chair. She seated me and rushed me into a delivery room. Heat in my body overwhelmed me. I began taking off all my clothes and doctors were there to deliver if you if indeed you were coming. After checking, I was 90% dilated, but my water had yet to break. Because my vitals were normal and I was planning on having a natural birth with my midwife, I began to push with a nurse on duty that evening. Pat, my midwife had yet to arrive at the hospital. After trying a few positions, Pat was by my side coaching me. My water had still not broken so she suggested I use the restroom and move around. While on the toilet, I heard a little pop sound. I knew my water had broken. “It’s going to get hard now,” I thought to myself. I knew my pain would soon be increasing. I held on to Pat as she guided me to my bed. You were ready to come out. I pushed a few times on my hands and knees, in the position I preferred most, and then she asked me to move to my back. “I can see his head, Joy. He’s right there. Do you want to touch it?” Immediately I said, “No.” Pushing again she said, “You are so close Joy. Do you want to see him with the mirror?” Gritting my teeth in pain, again I said, “No.” Although I couldn’t wait to see and hold you, I didn’t want my first experience to be with you in that way. I wanted you safe in my arms. I wanted you out. I wanted to know with certainty you were safe and healthy. At one point, I glanced up at the ceiling and saw my reflection below. I quickly closed my eyes and bore down.
Right before your birth, I felt the most intense burning sensation I’d yet to experience and then nothing. You were out! You were in my arms, and you were crying. It was the most intense experience of my life, but as soon as you were out my pain ended. I opened my eyes and couldn’t believe you were there. My son, Kenton! You pooped almost immediately on my chest. You know you truly love someone when you’ve just experienced the most painful experience of your life, you are covered in poop, and yet your heart is bursting with happiness. I put you to my breast after they wiped you clean, and you began to suck. I couldn’t believe how you knew just what to do. From that moment on, you continued to surprise me with your ability to thrive. You were and are a miracle!
Since your birth, your dad and I have made many mistakes. We didn’t always make the best choices for you. But we all learned together. Every stumble, every fall taught us something new. We became smarter and wiser together.
Today I celebrate you! Every part, fiber, and piece of you. You are my pride and joy. You fill my world with adventure and laughter. As much as I’ve taught you, you’ve taught me how to love deeper, forgive sooner, and embrace myself for who I am. Thank you for showing me how beautiful growth can be. I love you with no conditions attached. I hope you have a wonderful day celebrating amazing you!
Mom
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