16 and pregnant

I knew it wouldn't always be easy being a mother, and going through the labout process which I did at the young age of 17 I felt I could get through anything that came at me, but right now, I'm just not sure.
It all started in October 2008, when we found out that we were expecting. "We" being my then partner, now husband, and I. We had talked about having a child in the near future, and were starting to really like the idea, when it happened. The first person to be told was my mother, who found out straight away, then were the god parents Kat and Trev, then the in-laws, and then Andrew's brother James and his now wife Bec. All of this news spreading happened within the space of a day, but still James and Bec were upset when they discovered they were told last. Revising now I understand, but at the time we were just too excited to care, and were even hurt that they would suggest that we had planned it this way.
Shortly after this, in February of 2009, Andrew's grandmother passed away, at the beautiful age of 89, and though it was sad, we were thankful that she was no longer in pain. At this time we had not yet found out the sex of the baby, and I was hping for a daughter, Andrew a son. We were also tossing up names that we liked, but when we learnt of Flora's passing I suggested to Andrew that I thought it would be nice if we named our child Flora if it was a girl, or Dane (Flora's surname) if it was a boy. As you will discover later, this is not how it turned out.
A bit over a month after Flora's passing it was time to discover the sex of our beautiful baby. Everyone who could make it came and witnessed this event, including Helen and Simon, even though I was doubtful of them wanting to, not because of the occasion, but simply because of the significance of the date that this was held on, Friday March 21st 2009, what would have been Flora's 90th birthday. Andrew and I entered the ultrasound room first, just us, to check that everything was fine with bub and to learn of the sex of the baby ourselves so we could deal with any emotions we may have had in learning that it was or was not what we had been hoping for. I will say that I did cry when I learnt that we were having a boy, but it was not for grief or disappointment. I suppose I was proud to say that I was having a son, my first born son. After emotions had been dealt with Andrew left the room to tell the others (my mother and his parents) that they were now allowed in also. This was then they too learnt that we would have a son, which was followed by a prompt "I told you so" from my mother.
After this ultasound I was quite upset that it was the last time I could "see" my son until his birth, which was when Simon suggested getting a 3d ultrasound, and having it saved on disc. I thought this was a wonderful idea, and started planning for it to be done. At roughly 30 weeks Simon, who is a local neurosurgeon, wrote me a referal to get one done, and off I went. Andrew was away for work and would be returning later that afternoon, so I done this one with just my mother. I still believe that it was because only one of the parents was there that I was not told at the time, though they were adament that they had to check with the doctors before disclosing anything to me, as they did not want to upset me for no reason. I was pretty upset when I found out later that day.
Andrew returned from work that evening and we were quietly enjoying each others company when his phone rang. It was Simon, who had just received a phone call from the ultrasound clinic stating that they had found what they believed to be an umbilical vein varix on our sons umbilical cord. I had no idea what this was when I heard it, and was histerics that they had not said anything to me sooner. Simon came to our house to explain what it was, which is basically a varicose vein clot in his umbilical cord, which would grow as he grew, and if it became big enough there was a definate risk of the child dying in utero. I don't remember much else from that night, except that Simon told Andrew who we had to see, and where, which was a Professor at the Nepean Hospital. So a week later we drove all the way from Orange to Penrith to see him, hoping that everything was alright, and that we would not lose our child. When we arrived we met the Professor, and he started the ultrasound, taking measurements of the varix, and then gave us instructions of what we should do for the rest of the pregnancy to keep this situation monitored and have the best chance of keeping our son alive if anything went wrong. I was instructed to meet with a Dr. Green here in Orange to work out an exact routine for the times I would receive an ultrasound weekly, and also a doctors appointment with a doctor in the maternity ward in our hospital and heart rate monitoring weekly.
For the last 8 weeks of my pregnancy everything went smoothly, and as was discussed with my doctor in previous weeks, I was to be induced 2 weeks early so that there was less chance of the varix becoming large enough to become fatal to our son, who we had already named Koby Boyd Hammond. Very quickly the date of my induction rolled around, and at 2pm on Thursday July 16th I was signed into the hospital, and given the gel which would help to start my labour. Very soon after the gel was inserted I started having light contractions, but with my low pain threshold I was in some pain. This was nothing compared to what I was to experience later, though. Nothing much had happened from then until 10pm, and Andrew was asked to go home as there was no room for him to stay with me with the ward being so busy, even though there was an empty bed in the same room I was in for the duration of my stay.
I managed to get a little sleep from then until about 12, when I woke in so much pain I could not get back to sleep. This was when a midwife gave me some painkillers, and when these didn't help, some sleeping tablets. When these also didn't help I was run a warm bath, and Andrew was rung to help me with calming down, as I was getting quite stressed at this point from both the pain and my being tired. One whole hour in the bath and I was almost crying I was in so much pain, but I knew I needed sleep as it was only going to continue and I needed my energy for the labour that was sure to come soon.. well, those were my hopes. After being settled back into bed I was given a shot of morphine to ease the pain and Andrew stayed to help me to sleep, but soon after left to go home to get some sleep himself.
4am, Friday July 17, I woke up, feeling like I needed to pee, so I walk across the hall to the bathroom and whoosh, my waters broke. Strangest feeling I have ever had. After this the pains became more intense and closer together, and I could not sleep at all. For 4 hours I sat up and waited until I was able to call Andrew and tell him to come down, it was happening soon. I could feel it. Man, I was wrong. Soon after Andrew arrived I was moved to a labour room, and prepped. Though it was a while off, it could happen very quickly, I was told. At 10am I went for a walk, but soon returned to the room as I could not stand up straight. Pretty much straught away I was attached to a drip and could no longer move from the room.. I was trapped!
I think it was about 12 when I was in so much pain that I asked for the epidural, and actually received it. To be honest I can't remember it hurting, because I had had so much gas that I was surely not on planet earth!
I can't really remember much happening after that. either because nothing really happened after that or because I was too high, all I can remember is that at some point Koby's heart rate dropped considerably, and after being poked and prodded everywhere to be sure that he hadn't just moved and they hadn't just lost his heart beat, instead of it actually dropping, I was told that I was to have an emergency caesarian, as I was only 4cm dilated and Koby was trying to push his way out, resulting in his head becoming stuck, causing his heart rate to drop. Everything seemed to move so slowly after that, but I was soon prepped and taken into the operating theatre, where I waited for everyone to be ready, and Andrew came in. He kept talking to me, I think he was nervous, and suddenly I could feel them pushing on my stomach to get Koby out.. A couple of seconds later there was a scream, and my son had been born. He was cleaned up, and placed next to my head so that I could look at him while they stitched me up and cleaned me up. This didn't seem to last long enough, because soon after Andrew was asked to leave and take Koby down to the maternity ward, where the rest of our families were waiting. I was told I would be 15 minutes, and then I could go down and see him. This was at 6.18pm.. I held my son for the first time at 10.30pm.
Since that day it has been 20 months and 11 days. My son, Koby Boyd, will be turning 2 in four months. Time has flown, and many things have happened since then.