Troy's Birth Story

Troy Michael Holt was born on August 3rd at 5:19 pm. He weighed 7 pounds, 11 ounces, and was 20 inches long. He was perfect from the moment he was born, except for a little bit of a breathing problem. His fingers and toes are so long and delicate. His skin was buttery soft and his hair was so delicate and dark. He was the epitome of what I had hoped for. 

Mitch and I checked into the hospital at midnight to be induced. I had asked to be induced a little early because of my crazy life schedule. First world problems. Thankfully, my doctor was totally willing to induce me and listen to my concerns about why I needed to be induced. First, Zane was a whopping week late. I didn't have time for that. Second, I needed to be back at work on the 21st, meaning if I went all the way to my due date, I would only have 10 days at home to heal and recover. 3rd, I was just to freaking excited to wait any longer! And 4th, I did not have a high risk pregnancy, or even a risky pregnancy, so there was no harm in him being born a week early. 

After we checked into the hospital, they had us just sit around in my room and wait for what felt like forever before they would give me any pitocin because I was already having contractions. Albeit, contractions I couldn't really even feel, but they still made us wait because doctors know best. After a few hours, they gave me my first round of pitocin. Labor this time around was slow starting. My cervix wasn't softening quickly and all signs pointed to this being a long labor and delivery. I slept through the night without really any pain, other than the nurses coming in and making me move around because Troy had wiggled off of the monitors. 

I woke up to being told I couldn't have breakfast because of the medicine, so I was starving and a little hangry. Mitch and my mother left to go get themselves breakfast and I practically salivated to death just thinking about how there was a breakfast joint just down the road from the hospital. I would have hurt somebody for a slice of toast. When they got back from breakfast, my contractions started getting harder and harder. 

The contractions went from not noticeable to all of a sudden quite the inconvenience. These contractions, paired with the fact that I was already hangry, were not mama's best friend. I worked through them for several hours until I finally requested an epidural. The anesthesiologist had two women in line before me, and I had unfortunately chosen to wait until the pain was no longer bearable to ask for an epidural. I then spent the next hour in terrible pain, shaking and crying like a little girl. These contractions were coming hard and strong in my thighs and causing such terrible pain, I don't know if I could ever give birth all-naturallllll. 

When the anesthesiologist finally came, he told me not to worry, that his hands were only shaking that badly because he had worked out "to exhaustion" the night before, not that he was nervous. Queue me being nervous now. A giant needle (I'm already afraid of needles, hence waiting until the last possible moment), shaking hands, and a doctor that was playing it off as if that wasn't terribly alarming. While he did freak me out, he had a good sense of humor and that helped to take my mind off of the edge. 

After receiving the epidural, my mom said, "Good job, Alex!" The anesthesiologist replied, "My name is Kyle...?" My mom laughed and said, "Good job, Kyle, but I am talking to my daughter."

Unfortunately for Kyle, the epidural did not kick in. I could still feel everything and I was in terrible, horrible pain for about another hour as he kept giving me extra doses every twenty minutes. After what felt like forever, the epidural finally started to kick in and I fell asleep to my mom saying, "Good job, Kyle." and the anesthesiologist jesting back, "Her name is Alex."

I thought I had slept for ages, but in reality I had only fallen asleep long enough for my mom, Mitch, and my mother-in-law, Linda, to make plans for lunch when the nurse came in to check me. She was training another nurse, so she checked me and then let the trainee check how far I was dilated. All day I had been stuck at a four. The training nurse checked me and said, "Four." The nurse looked at her and said, "You think that is a four? She's at a 10. You're feeling the babies head, not the cervix."

A quick call to my doctor and we were ready to go! I had two pushes and Troy was here, well worth the pain and the wait. No tears, no rips, nothing but a sweet little nugget of joy. When he was born, they put him on my chest, but then quickly realized something was wrong with his breathing because he never had a deep cry. They called in the NICU nurses and I laid there with my brand new baby while 10 or so people all waited around anxiously. 

Finally, they grabbed Troy from me and started to assess him and try to get him to take his big deep cry. I wasn't afraid, I wasn't even nervous. I just felt very calm and peaceful, already knowing that everything was alright and this was simply a passing moment. 

Sure enough, they handed Troy back to me and 10 or so people eagerly watched me hold him. As I held him, his breathing became normal and all of the NICU nurses, relieved, said, "He just wanted his mama!"

The rest of the hospital stay was a blur of Troy feeding right off the bat, (and continuously ever since), friends and family stopping in, and Troy getting more breathing check-ups. Also, bad hospital food, but the most delicious Arby's pizza slider I've ever tasted.

When Zane came to visit Troy, he was in LOVE. He ran into the room carrying flowers and was startled to see me in the hospital bed. He got pretty worried until I welcomed him over and showed him his baby brother. He's been smitten ever since. He snuggled me and told me all about his stay with my mother-in-law, and then asked when I was coming home. He was so sweet and my heart broke watching him leave the hospital room while I still had to stay. 

I wasn't released until Troy passed his breathing tests with flying colors, which was on the third day of our hospital stay. By that time I was already stir crazy and pretty much healed. This birth was so much different than Zane's. I was shocked to see how Troy could so easily breastfeed right away, instinctively knowing what to do. Zane had a tongue tie and couldn't breastfeed easily for the first few weeks of his life. 

Since his birth, Troy has been the sweetest, gentlest little baby and I can't believe I am lucky enough to have two precious boys. We were needing a little Troy in our life and we didn't even know it.