In the spring of 1990, I was stressed. I had an active 2-year old and we were building a brand new home. One day, I decided to see how far I could run. Well, once again, I got to a 1/8th of a mile, before huffing and puffing. I had been thinking of joining a Step class at the Y, but felt so out of shape that I figured I better get in better shape to join a Step class! Wow - isn't that a weird way of thinking?? Or maybe not? Are there any other women out there reading this that can relate? Has anyone tried to get in shape to join an exercise class?? I must admit, it seems stupid now all these years later. Anyhow, I decided to try running again and sure enough, within a few weeks, I was up to a mile or two. I then joined the Y and started doing Step 2-3X a week. I recall in class one day, the instructor commented that although she loved Step too, that one should never do it more than twice a week, due to the stress it put on the knees. Knees?? My knees were healthy, I was fine. I felt strong, I felt energetic and I felt good. One day, after a particularly grueling 4 mile run, my back was hurting me. I remember that I ran off a curb and my ankle twisted slightly and although I managed to keep from falling, I think I twisted my back. I skipped Step class that night and two nights later as well. By the next week, I was feeling fine. The instructor asked how I come I hadn't made class the previous week, and so I told her about my back. She looked aghast and said, "Oh my, have you checked with your doctor? I'm not sure you should be doing Step class and you run???” I replied, "Oh no, I'm fine. I actually only have a small list of things I can't do". She looked at me with a skeptical eye and said to me, "Well, I can tell you that if I were you, I wouldn't be doing this OR running". I said, "Really?” She replied, "Really. If I were you, I'd be swimming and stretching and that's it!" I thought, "What does she know? She's just some bimbo in a leotard!' I mean, MY doctor never said anything about not running and he certainly never said anything about my knees!! I kept up the Step class for another year and in the end, I was running 3-5 miles, several times a week. I was feeling wonderful.
Soon after we moved into our house in August of 1991, I became pregnant with my son. I gave up Step and the running. I was in the best physical shape of my life and I was now pregnant, I figured I had been given a "pass" on eating!! Benjamin Robert Delaney was born on June 22, 1992. Now, if you'll recall, I only gained 17 lbs. during my pregnancy with Erica. Well, with Ben, I gained 42 lbs.!!!! Yeah, big difference. Looking back, this must have been very hard on my spine - between the physical stress that I was putting on it for the previous two years and then stopping suddenly and gaining more than 40 lbs. in less than 9 months. Not good. Ben's due date was June 15 and one week later, on June 22, my Ob/Gyn sent me to hospital for a non-Stress test to see how the baby was doing, since I was now a week late. I arrived early in the morning, they hooked me up to the fetal monitor and I simply lay there pressing the button when I would feel the baby move. I was always concerned that this baby never moved as much as Erica had. He moved, just not a lot. I remember asking the doctor about this more than once and he assured me that the heartbeat was strong. As I expected, the baby wasn't moving much, so they gave me some orange juice to drink, explaining that the sugar can sometime get them "moving". No luck. Then they came in and started making a lot of loud noise, in an attempt to "wake" the baby up. I started feeling a little more movement then. They told me they were going to have me lay there for 10 more minutes and they all walked away. Up until the point, the heart rate was strong and regular. No sooner had the nurses walked away and drawn the curtain again, the baby’s heart rate stuttered fluttering and sounding like it was "skipping". Two nurses came running back in and said, "What just happened?" and I replied, "I don't know, but I heard that. What does that mean?” Suddenly there was the doctor on call and they were doing a sonogram. They told me nothing except that the baby seemed a little large and he was, just like his sister, in a posterior position. I recall the doctor saying to me, "If you think you've had back pain before, you're going to soon find out that you didn't know what back pain was!” Gee, thanks. I explained that my daughter had been in a posterior position too and asked if she could try to turn the baby and she said she could. She tried, but was unsuccessful. Eventually, they hooked me up to Pictocin, explaining that they were uncomfortable with the "skipping" heartbeat and were going to induce me. I was in labor all day and I experienced the same syndrome with this baby as I did with Erica. Evidently, for some unknown reason, when I dilate to around 9 cm, instead of the continuous expansion of my uterus and cervix, it begins to contract and close. This is what happened when during the labor with Erica when they decided to use forceps and were successful. This time however, everyone seemed in a panic and I was in awful, awful pain. I was never allowed any pain med's whatsoever and by now, I was beside myself. At this point the heartbeat was completely erratic and they announced that I was going in for a C-sect. In the moment, I was thrilled - let's get this over with. I would have done anything to eliminate the pain. For some reason, I was told that none of the anesthesiologists were answering their pages and it was all being held up for one of them to respond. I was MAD!! I look back now, hmmm...........sounds like a story that could have had an absolutely horrendous ending. It was 3 hours between the time I was told I was going to need a C-sect until the time the baby was born. One thing I did recall was that Dr. Hardy had told my mother that I wouldn't be able to have a spinal, so if I was to require a C-section, then I would have to endure general anesthesia. I tried to tell the medical people that, in between the more painful contractions, and they ignored me. Soon, I was screaming mad and in the OR. I recall the anesthesiologist saying to me, "Where exactly are you fused?” I replied, "I DON'T KNOW". In that moment, I really couldn't remember. He said he was going to try at L1 and I said, "NO, I'm fused at L1" and he said he was going to try anyway. I grabbed him by the arm and said, "You do and something bad happens, I will sue you and this whole hospital, do you hear me?” The whole room was staring at me, he looked up and said, "We're doing general anesthesia". As I became unconscious, I realized everyone was staring at me like I was some lunatic and the next thing I knew was I was waking up in Recovery. I remember having to ask, "What did I have?" and they said, "A boy". And that's it. That's all they said. Honest, it was as if I was among enemies. I was finally brought to my room where Bob was waiting and I said, "Oh my God, we have a boy" and he said, "Yeah, and a BIG one". I said, "What?" and he said, "Didn't they tell you?" and I said "No". He then announced to me that I had an almost 10 lb. baby boy, with a 14" head AND chest and he was 22 1/2" long! A mini football player!! I remember one of the nurses saying as I walked down to see him in the nursery, "Don't worry, you'll recognize him, he's the biggest baby there!" and he was. He looked HUGE compared to the other babies!! I recall when my ob/gyn (he didn't do the delivery, how I wish he had. I had the doctor on call) came to see me the next day, I said, "How did I have such a big baby?" and he said, "It was all that pizza you ate! You gained 40 lbs.!!” Once again, gee thanks. Several days later, I took my little man home and thought "How am I ever going to lose all this weight?”
Amazingly, 17 1/2 years later, I think I still have all 40 lbs. Ugh!
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