Thursday, July 17, 2008

Happy Birthday, Stryker

Twelve years ago today, at 7:52 a.m., the Matron and Stryker finally got to take a good long look at each other. The Matron probably looked like one big gaseous planet to Stryker, eyes virgin and mucky, body suddenly afloat on a whole new planet.

What did the Matron see? A human being, a real actual bona fide slimy human, that had finally (thank God-Oprah-Buddha-Allah) COME OUT of her body!!!!

Because Stryker was born approximately 30 hours after that prodigious bag of water broke. In bed at about 11:30 on July 15, the Matron knew that trickle in the dark of night was not pee (but three babies later, now it will be). She won't bore you with the details of pain and despair and joy that follow, because most of you reading have been there, done that. Uneventful, just slow.

Until the end. Stryker got stuck. Shoulder dysplasia, which means his shoulder hooked right under the Matron's gigantic child-bearing pelvis.

Digression!!! The Matron is not a big person, oh no. She says she's 5'4" but that's because she's adding half an inch for ego. Her current favorite pair of shorts? Boys size 14. You get the picture. Yes, yes, yes, she fits into Stryker's shoes. But when she first got pregnant, she took her petite, delicate, refined self to the doctor and inquired: was she up to the task? After all, alien invasion ahead. Big time trouble.

Her adorable obstetrician said this: "Don't you worry. You have the pelvis of an 18th century peasant. HUGE. Just for making babies. Half a dozen."

Well. She's not certain that's a compliment.

But it does turn out that this big ole pelvis can serve as Impediment as well.

So poor Stryker's head is out and the Matron knows something is amiss because the attitude in the room - all casual and happy and 'you're at the end you're doing great!' -- has snapped into something furious and lean. People are yelling. Lights and blinking and beeping. Someone runs to get a cart, she learns later, for the emergency C-section, right there on that bed.

But there's no doctor! The Matron had a midwife in the hospital where doctors just pop in and out, checking on the female love. And hers hasn't even bothered yet because the Matron just started pushing. No need. Nut now, as the Matron pushes to NO avail, everybody -- most especially John who sports a lovely gray color -- wanted that doctor.

While all the bells and whistles jiggle and blow and the room suddenly bursts with stress, and it seems to the Matron, about a dozen additional people -- one nurse, very large and focused and tall and kind -- bends down and whispers to the Matron, intimate and intense: "You have to give this everything you have. Your baby is depending on you to get him out. He needs air."

!!

The Matron? She bore down with every last ounce of power in her body, with all the love and desire and hope she had for that child, with centuries of Mamas riding her shoulder and whispering into her ear, her heart.

And it wasn't enough.

As Stryker began to fade and purple and no doctor emerged (he was running, running, running, she learned later -- and so were two others, who'd heard the word), the large nurse said, "I don't care what they say" before she straddled the Matron, heaved her entire body into the air for force and gravity and God and slammed herself onto the top of the Matron's uterus, with all her 200 pound might.

Stryker shot out, a rocket.

Let's all love that nurse for a moment, as a thank you. The Matron thinks about her quite a bit.

What would the world be missing?

The boy who used all of his money to buy his sister a doll.

The child who rested his head against an old dog's chest and when the last breath left, wept: "One minute he was here and I felt him, then he was gone. Just gone! Will I be like that?"

The boy in charge of these.

The who once articulated this at 11: "I'm not jealous of Scarlett because she's an actor. I'm jealous because she's found her passion. I want a passion for my life. I want to know it."

Yes, honey. That's the ticket.

This is the day that the Matron became a mother and the Earth got Stryker -- the big brain, the quick wit, the clown to many. But the Matron knows that it is his pure and unbound heart that will make the planet a better place for his presence.



22 comments:

Nora said...

Happy birthday to both of you!

I want that midwife around when I have my next one, dude. She rocks.

Lisa Wheeler Milton said...

So good to know the world has good young men coming up like Stryker.

Happy birthday to you, all.

Mrs. G. said...

Happy birthday to your beautiful boy. I have no doubt that he will have many passions.

Jennifer S said...

Thank god for that nurse and that she wasn't a skinny little thing.

Happy birthday to both of you!

Anonymous said...

Happy Birthday Stryker and Matron!

I think the world is better off for BOTH of you!

Anonymous said...

Eeek, your birth story story sounded frighteningly familiar...34 hours, two hospitals and a fabulous Australian consultant who unstuck my firstborn...

Nothing prepares you for the shock and wonder of what you created...and still does 12 years on!

Happy Birthday Stryker, have a special day, special boy.

And as for you Matron...hope you are doing your pelvic floor exercises!!!
Hen
x

Manager Mom said...

Oh... this made me get teary. What a frighteningly amazing birth story... I would give that nurse a big sloppy kiss if I ever met her in person.

It's funny how medical technicians give what they consider complements. I had an MRI tech once tell me that I had the biggest lungs he's ever seen outside of a professional athlete.

My chest is a 34A so I'm pretty sure he was REALLY complementing my lungs.

Happy birthday Stryker!!!

Rima said...

When Stryker finds his calling, the world had better watch out. That boy is amazing. I hope you both have a smashing day!

Karen said...

I got teary with love for a boy I've never met. Thank you, Matron, for lending him to us through your lovely words.

Anonymous said...

Many happy returns! From all you've written about him, he is worth the birth trauma to his mama.

Anonymous said...

I think we have the same body? Except I'm about a half inch taller. And the clothing designers have no idea what to do with a short, tiny person that is also hourglass shaped. I'm always joking with Brad that I can't do things like take out the trash. "Look at my hands!" I say, "do these look like peasant hands?" But I definitely have that peasant pelvis. :P

smalltownme said...

Happy Birthday!

12 is great.

Allmycke said...

Stryker will find his passion one day and you'll be his proud Mom forever.
Happy Birthday.

Madge said...

thank god for that nurse! what a beautiful boy you have..

Jenn @ Juggling Life said...

Happy Birthday to both of you.

And that shoulder dystocia story? A few details vary, but the rest of it (including the pushing nurse) are eerily similar.

Angie said...

Happy Birthday, Stryker! 12! Oh, the adventures of a 12 year old boy - hold on, Matron.

My uterus actually had sympathy pain thinking about that woman jumping on top of you during labor - but whatever it takes, right?

Great post.

Lynda said...

Another reason this is my very favorite site to visit. Thank you and Happy Day to Stryker!

Anonymous said...

Happy birthday to you both!

Julie said...

Happy Birthday! Stryker's a fine young man with great hair! :)

Heather said...

What an amazing story. Happy Birthday to your precious boy.

Suburban Correspondent said...

Aaack - this story frightens me! The midwives there didn't try the 2 basic techniques for a stuck shoulder - flip the mother over onto all fours (the baby often drops down and away from the impediment) or apply pubic bone pressure (lots) to snap the collarbone to get the baby out (done to my second baby, who also got stuck). Basic midwifery practice! Spread the word!

Peggy Sez.. said...

OK did ya have to make me cry?

Happy Belated Birthday Stryker!