He Is Here!

On Monday night, I was stinkin' tired of having contractions. Nothing was working to stop them anymore, and the prospect of another long night made me feel like crying. My contractions hadn't changed at all, but I told Jed to take me to the hospital. I was planning on just whining a bit and telling them how miserable I was.

On check at the hospital, I hadn't progressed too much since Saturday morning, but the doctor agreed to let me stay. He said he would come in and give me some pitocin. The prospect of pitocin must have scared me into it, because before the doctor even got to the hospital I started progressing and didn't end up needing the pitocin.

At around 4 AM I was at a 7, and the anestheologist arrived and asked me if I wanted an epidural. I was anxious to get a break from the contractions before the pushing started. The epidural went fine, but as the nurse was readjusting my leads, I noticed she looked worried and was moving really fast. I asked her if something was wrong, and she told me the baby's heart rate had dropped. I asked her what it was at, and she told me it was in the 50's. Right then, a bunch of nurses came in and put a mask over me. They started disconnecting my IV and leads, and moving me around. When they moved me into a certain position, the baby's heart rate came back. The same thing happened again an hour later, but again they were able to reposition me and get the heart rate back.

At around 6 o'clock, my epidural was not working at all, and so they came and gave me another one. I had one blissful hour of sleep, but woke up feeling nauseated and completely numb from the neck down. I tried to tell the nurse that I was not feeling right, but I was having a hard time finding words. The baby's heart rate dropped again, and this time they could not get it back. Everyone rushed in and got me moving to the OR on the run. I didn't know what was happening until I heard a page for an emergency C-section in the OR and realized it was for me.

As they were moving me from the bed to the operating table, they found another magic position and the heart rate came back. The doctor told them to wait an hour, but leave me in the OR just in case. Jed arrived, clad in mask and gown, and asked me if I was okay. I didn't recognize him, so I just looked at him and wondered who the handsome, terrified doctor was, asking me if I was okay.

An hour later, we were back in the L&D room. My epidural had worn off, and I was starting to feel like pushing. The doctor was doing a C-section, and told the nurse he would be in in an hour to check on me and start pushing if I was ready. Before that hour was up, though, my body was pushing that baby out completely involuntarily. The nurse kept telling me not to push, and I kept yelling at her that I had absolutely no control over it. I was terrified that I was going to complicate things further, and was trying so hard not to push and somehow force my body not to push. The nurse told me that I shouldn't be feeling like that, and asked me if I wanted another epidural. I was afraid that another epidural would cause baby's heart rate to decelerate again, so I declined. Besides, my hour was almost up.

At the end of the hour, the nurse came in and told me that the doctor wanted to wait yet another hour, so I would be "nice and ready." I felt like crying. The nurse recommended the epidural to me again, and told me she didn't think it was what was causing the decelerations. I accepted.

It never set in, though. The baby was moving way faster than the doctor. Maybe 5 minutes into the hour, the nurse yelled for the doctor to come quickly, and after only a few ACTUAL EFFORTS at pushing, the baby was born. Jed said he knew everything was okay because I was smiling the whole time (because they were finally letting me push, darn it.)

Grey was born at 11:40, 8 pounds, 13 ounces, 21 inches long. His Apgar's were 10 and 10, after all that drama. Half an hour later, though, they took him away from me because his respirations were too fast. I think he just needed to figure out his breathing. He came back to my room later that afternoon, just in time to meet his big brother.