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Birth Stories - Young Mothers Birth Stories
Wednesday, 11 February 2009 10:01
Introducing: Caelan Michael Norwood!

The pregnancy test was positive! I nearly died. Here I was, 18 with my boyfriend in jail. I had just started college. I had plans for my life. I sat on my bed for a total of three minutes before I started dancing round the room. I realized that I was going to have a baby! Sure the situation could have been better. I could have been married, richer, older and wiser. But this is the way it was.

The next step was to call my mother. She was at work, the poor lady, I layed in on her late in the afternoon. I have to give her credit though. Before I could tell her what was up she asked me if I was pregnant. One of those things she said. She was reasonably calm. She and my father treated me well and supported me emotionally and financially throughout my pregnancy.

My boyfriend called soon after I took the test. This was his one call a day. It was a collect call of course. I told him right away. He was so excited he shouted it out to all the guys that he was going to be a daddy. Too bad he never lived up to that potential. He spent the first 7 months of my pregnancy in jail. When he did come home things just weren't like they were supposed to be. He never wanted to touch my belly. He wasn't really into Lamaze classes although he did go to them, but I had to drag him. When I went into labor he wouldn't even wake up!

I woke up on June 2 1995 and had to go to the bathroom around 4:30 am. (you know how it is...). When I looked down the toilet paper (ewww) was bloody. This scared the crap out of me so I immediately called my doctor (who cares if it's 4:30 in the morning?). He told me it was my mucus plug and said to call him when my contractions started. I layed in bed scared out of my mind and wishing I had someone to comfort me. My boyfriend was sound asleep and snoring, that isn't exactly comforting. Around 5.45 I got my first contraction. It wasn't all that bad. It kinda felt like gas rumbling across my belly. I knew it was a contraction because the same thing happened exactly two minutes later. I counted four or five of them and then got really nervous. They said the contractions would be at least 15 minutes apart! I called my doctor again and he said to get my butt to the hospital pronto!

I tried to wake my boyfriend up but he wouldn't get up. I went to my mom (we lived at her house) and woke her and my dad up. They told me to calm down and they would get ready and take me there. Mom got in the shower and I paced the house. Finally my boyfriend decided to wake up and we all got in the car to go. Dad stayed home because he had to go to work.

We got to the hospital in the normal flurry. The nurses rushed me into a room, started an IV and took some blood. they checked me and found that I was only 2 cm dilated and about 50% effaced. The nurse told me she'd come back in a little bit to check on me. The next few hours flew by. The pain wasn't that bad, the contractions were still around 2 minutes apart. It started to feel like really bad gas. My way of dealing with the pain was to pace the halls of the hospital. I couldn't go far so I must have cut a big dip into the rug. After about four hours I was about 5 cm dilated and 85% effaced. The doctor asked if I wanted any pain medicine. I said "hell YA!". They gave me a drug called Nubain. This stuff took the edge off and I spent a good hour in la-la land.

Then the Doc decided to break my water. HA! The next contraction nearly had me on the floor. After relaxing and having minimal pain for an hour it felt like there was someone inside of me literally ripping me apart! Then he decided to check me! That was so painful. I was 9cm and one hundred percent effaced. The nurse, named Jo, who had been with me throughout this ordeal, turned to me and told me that I could push. I had never heard kinder words! Being able to push against the pain was a Godsend. It was also the hardest thing to do. I was exhausted from pacing for 6 and a half hours. (At one point they had tried to get me into the shower and I ended up streaking the geriatric ward across the hall when I had a contraction).

After a good hour and half of pushing the head finally came out. One major problem, his shoulders were too big. Jo pushed on my stomach while I pushed and the doctor pulled. Out came a squalling baby boy. I heard that he was healthy and I passed out, it was 1:45pm on June 2, 1995.

And now, the rest of the story...

Four years, one post-partum depression (which I am just barely coming out of), one corrective surgery (the doctor sewed me up with an extra hole... long story), one breakup (with the non-attentive, non-paying, non-attending sperm donor), one marriage (to a wonderful man!), one adoption (my husband adopted my son December 14 of 1998) and what seems like many battles later, here we are.

After my son's sperm donor and I broke up I went on the usual fun spree, going out with friends, going to the bars, but always coming home to be with my baby. Then I ran into Brian (my now husband) at the local hang out (Dunkin' Donuts) and he gave me his phone number.

Brian and I have known each other since I was 13 and he was 18 (we started dating when I was 21). He's such a great guy. He said he knew he wanted to marry me when he met Caelan for the first time (Caelan was only two, sitting in his high chair covered in cake. When he saw Brian he just smiled and Brian was in love...)

Caelan fell in love with Brian the day we went to Story Land, a local theme park. I think I fell in love with Brian that same day. Brian spent more time running after Caelan than I did. He was so concerned. Not to mention we went with my mom, dad and uncle, and Brian actually had fun. After that date Mom told me that if I "f***ed this up" she'd kill me. (My mom never swears...)

It wasn't long after I broke up with the sperm donor that he stopped coming around. After all, he wasn't attentive when we lived together, what made me think it would change after we broke up? He came around once every few months. From our first date, Brian was a better father to Caelan than the sperm donor ever was. Finally, Brian and I decided to do something about custody. It wasn't fair that this man could come into our lives after six months and mess us up again. Caelan would get confused and irritable, not to mention depressed when "Daddy" never showed. And we got sick of waiting for him to show up or call. He didn't pay child support and we had no legal custody order and that scared me. So we decided to go to a lawyer to work out visitation rights and custody.

After the sperm donor heard from my lawyer he called me up and said, and I quote "If I give up my rights to him (meaning Caelan) then I won't owe you any money right?" and "Can I still claim him on my tax return?"

Shortly after that the adoption went through. But the sperm donor hadn't paid child support for almost a year. So after everything was final I got a call from his new wife (who has since given birth to the sperm donor's second son!)asking why the state is demanding money from them. I had to explain to her that no, he doesn't have to pay child support anymore, but he does have to pay what he owed up until the adoption went through. So, not only did my son have a steady and loving father now, we also got $25 dollars a week for almost a year!

The last time I've heard from them was that phone call from his wife. Things have gotten into a great routine around here. I'm working at the local hospice center while Brian goes to college to become an electrician. Our great hope is that Brian will get a high paying job after college, and that I will be able to stay home and have another baby. We also hope that we'll have enough money to buy a house!

For now we live with my parents, in an apartment on the side of their house. We don't pay rent (we can't afford it) but that's why we moved in with them. They are so supportive of us and our dreams. Caelan has it made, he eats supper with us, then he goes to Grammie's side and eats with them. Surprisingly, he hasn't gained that much weight. They respect our parenting and support our decisions.

We really have it made and I am so happy. The only downfall is that every day my son looks a little bit more like his sperm donor. But people who don't know our situation always say "Gee, he looks like his daddy (Brian) but has his mom's coloring!" And that makes it all worth while.