On Thursday morning, I had a routine OB appointment. After checking for the baby's heartbeat, she told me that since I was 39 weeks, I had the option of scheduling an induction. She laughed a little when I asked when the earliest induction time was, but when she saw that I was serious, she went and checked the schedule. I was delighted to hear that they could put me on the list for Saturday morning! I was advised to sleep with my cell phone at the ready, because they could call as early as midnight Friday night/Saturday morning!
Little did I know, 48 hours later, we would still be waiting.
I'm not going to lie, it was really difficult to wait for Labor & Delivery to call. Reed and I essentially paced the floor for two days straight. Since I was an elective induction, mothers with emergencies were treated before me -- which is completely understandable, but getting bumped to a later spot on the schedule was always disappointing. Our dear friends who had agreed to take Cal were on call, too! I think I burst into tears three or four different times, for different reasons. At times, I was impatient to get admitted and start the induction, and at others, I was scared about the stresses of an epidural and delivery. Reed really had his hands full managing an overtired, way-too-emotional pregnant lady.
To kill time and try to keep us all happy, Reed took us out to eat, got everyone jamba smoothies, rubbed my feet, held me when I cried, and my personal favorite -- drove us to Petco to let Cal look at hamsters (he's been obsessed ever since we received a "How to Take Care of Your Hamster" book as a white elephant gift at Christmas).
FINALLY, on Sunday night, as we were driving home from our friends' house, L&D called and asked if we could be in by 9pm. [Insert screeching-tire U-turn here.] We returned to our friends' house and dropped Cal off with his little suitcase, and took off for the hospital, selfishly hoping that no one with an emergency would beat us there.
After apologizing to the nurses for calling all weekend (thankfully, they laughed), we got checked in, and I got changed into my hospital gown. After the usual less-than-stellar IV experience (bad veins? Low blood pressure? Not sure, but it always involves multiple attempts up and down my arms, plus tears & queasiness), they got me going on pitossin. Slowly but surely, my body started having contractions. Reed and I both got a surprisingly good night's rest. I couldn't feel any pain, so when the OB came in the next morning and asked me if I wanted the anesthesiologist to do the epidural, I said that it could wait.
"Why don't you decide that after we break your water?" she said mildly, and she broke my water and left.
Sure enough, the next several contractions hurt like WHOA NELLIE. I rang that call button like a madwoman and told them to bring the guy in, STAT! :)
*Skip this paragraph if you are prone to queasiness.* Epidurals are funny things. They are wonderful in that they take away all the intense pain of labor, but the process of getting an epidural kind of creeps me out. I told the guy that didn't want to see the needle, and he told me he had no intention of showing it to me. They numb the area with a stinging poke of topical meds, but you can still feel a lot of pressure as they insert the needle. He worked a long time before we realized it wasn't going very well. Only one side of my lower body was numb, and he couldn't seem to fix it, no matter how he worked with the insertion. As he messed with it, I kept getting crazy little nerve shocks in my right leg and foot. Finally, he told me he was going to pull it out and try again with a new needle. He removed it and then told the nurse, "Come, look at this! The needle is bent to the side at the tip. That's why I couldn't get it to numb both sides. It must have hit bone." Cool guys, could you please talk about it outside??? Sheesh! Anyway, he redid the epidural, and it went perfectly, but the whole thing is just...creepy!
Creepy or not, the epidural made everything much more enjoyable. I felt zero pain, and could just focus on being excited and watching the contractions getting bigger and bigger on the monitor.
Around noon, Reed (who hadn't eaten since the night before) was pretty hungry. I told him to go and grab something to eat at the cafeteria, but he was worried about being away, in case labor progressed and the baby was ready to come. I assured him he could go, so he left to grab lunch.
About 30 seconds later, a nurse came into the room to check my progress, and told me it was go time. "Where's your husband?" she asked. I told her I wanted him to be able to eat, so we didn't call him. The nurse went to call the OB, and another came in and started breaking down the bed to prep for delivery. Finally I called Reed. Once I had ascertained that he had obtained food, and as nonchalantly as I could, I said, "So like...the baby is gonna be born here in a minute, but don't hurry. The Ob isn't here yet, and I don't feel like pushing or anything."
All I heard on the other end of the line was footsteps hitting the floor and panting.
"Hello? Reed? I said you don't have to hurry."
Reed was in the room in about ONE minute.
When the OB got there, she gave me some gentle instructions about how to direct the pushing. She and a nurse watched the contraction screen, and then said, "Okay here we go. Let's push three times during this contraction." I obeyed and they talked me through it.
"Good job!" she said when the contraction was over. "Now on this next one, don't push."
"Don't push?"
"Don't push." The contraction came, and I didn't push. The OB worked for a second and then calmly said, "Okay, the baby's head is out."
She told me to push one more time, which I did -- for barely a second, and the baby was out! Easy! :)
The baby looks nice and pink in the photo above, because this was actually taken at about minute 6 or 7. When they first put him on my chest, he was completely blue -- which is normal for newborns. But as we waited for him to squawk or cry or something, nothing happened. The two nurses and I were rubbing his back and saying, "C'mon little guy. Give us a cry. Take a breath, baby." But it wasn't happening. After about a minute, I looked at the nurse and said, "Take him."
She grabbed him and hurried back to the baby table, yelling, "Code white! Code white!"
About eight other nurses and doctors hurried into the room and swarmed him, working to get his airways clear. The OB was really calm and started talking to me to try to reassure me, but honestly, I didn't feel panicked. I finally had to reassure the OB, "I'm okay." I looked at Reed and repeated, "I'm okay. Are you okay?" He was calm, too, and moved over toward the baby table to watch the group working. I knew they'd get him to breath, but it was still a long wait for that little squawk. We didn't hear it for about 3 minutes. After that, he was nice and pink, as you see in the photos.
The breathing problems would continue to plague us; he was sent to the NICU twice over the next 24 hours -- once right after birth, and once more later that night -- due to signs of retracted breathing and wheezy, labored breaths. Both times they sent him back quickly, though. He was playing games with us, that's for sure.
Here he is, disliking his first scrub down (just like Cal!). This was right after birth, in the delivery room.
NICU visits aside, we had a lot of fun getting to know him over the next two days in the hospital, getting the hang of nursing, changing his teensy diapers, listening to his little baby noises. Both times I've delivered, the time in the hospital with my husband and baby has seemed like a magical time.
Reed and I really enjoyed the hospital where we delivered this time. With Cal, we delivered in a University hospital, where the focus was instruction to students. We definitely felt the difference this time around, in a place where we were treated like clients. It was a much more comfortable experience.
We also felt like we were given a lot more attention and instruction this time around. For instance, the hospital gave us this handbook that was basically, "how to take care of a baby." Yes, we already have a 4-year-old. Yes, we should know all of these things already. But we read the handbook together and unfortunately, our minds were blown! We kept saying things like, "Oh, that's what you're supposed to do?" and "Where was this info last time around!?" Hahaha. Poor Cal! Definitely the guinea pig child to two parents who had very little clue what we were doing. Hopefully he'll turn out -- and forgive us!
Along those same lines, I feel much more relaxed and confident this time. It's a little sad to me, because it makes me realize just how
not okay I was after delivery last time. We were moving around a lot, I was super nervous and felt pretty isolated, everything was changing. That was a time of feeling anxious and overwhelmed. Lots of good things, too, but a lot of anxiety about being a good enough mother. I'm glad that is not the case this time. It's wonderful to simply get to enjoy my children!
Cal was not allowed at the hospital due to new restrictions (because of the flu epidemic here), so he met Baby Brother for the first time once we got home. It was a very sweet introduction. He ran up the stairs and into our room where I was holding Elliot, and started singing a lullaby that he's been practicing. I, of course, burst into tears.
He hurried into his room and retrieved a PJ shirt for the baby to wear in case he got cold, plus a lego car he built for him, and his new plushie companion cube. It was so darling to see him completely open his heart to his new little brother. I will always remember that sweet moment.
Cal's sweetness didn't stop there. He has been enamored of the baby ever since. There's been absolutely no sibling rivalry or jealousy on his part. He is very proud of his new brother. The first time I Reed Cal up from preschool after Elliot's birth, Cal showed him off (via iPhone picture) to his friends and teachers, and just looked proud and proud can be!
He is also very protective of Elliot. If I don't respond immediately to the baby's cries, Cal comes and scolds me and says, "Mom! Baby Brother needs help now!"
We had a lot of help from my wonderful mom, who came and took care of Cal basically nonstop while we were in the hospital (since Cal couldn't come in bc of the flu lockdown rules).
Reed's dad also came, which was another treat for Cal.
I kept joking that Cal is going to want us to have a baby every month, because then he gets showered with attention, presents and fun outings nonstop!
We're getting used to life at home....
...and it is very sweet indeed.
