If anyone knows anything about my son, they know that it was right in his character to be born on his due date.
I had an induction scheduled for the week after my due date, in case he did not show on his own. I had worked both Saturday and Sunday before and dreaded each day, just wanting to have the kid already. On the morning of February 10, a Monday, my husband and woke up in different moods. I was ready to take on the day. I had no more than a week left of being pregnant and felt, for once, I could do this. My husband, on the other hand, had no desire to work. He laid in bed and asked me, “Do you think you’ll have him today?” I laughed and mentioned how it doesn’t work that way. I rolled over to get out of bed and felt a pop between my legs. I looked down and there was a wet spot on the sheets we had just bought the night before.
I ran to the restroom, telling my husband that I thought my water broke. I don’t remember what he said as I sat on the toilet. I relieved myself a bit and came out and said, “I think it’s just pee. I just peed myself a bit.” He laughed and said, “No, I don’t think that’s pee,” and pointed to my crotch. I looked down and my gray leggings were getting wetter by the second. “This is it? This is it!” I told him. The next 15 minutes was a blur of grabbing our bags (my bag and the babies, that is because even this late in the game and he hadn’t packed his), calling his mother and sister and my sister, calling our jobs, and getting in the car.
On the 15 minute drive to the hospital, he asked if I wanted to stop for food. I told him no. He asked if I was sure. “I just want to get this started.” Was that ever a mistake.
We arrived at the hospital at 7:30 am and made our way to L&D. We checked in with the desk. I told them my water broke and they laughed and said, “We’ll check that to be sure.” In my head I am thinking, I am still gushing amniotic fluid as we speak. Why would I pee myself continuously?
About 30 minutes later (and after being separated from my husband so the nurse could ask if I “feel safe at home” and checked that my water had indeed broken) my husband and I were in a small patient room, waiting for a bigger delivery room. The nurse periodically checked to see how dilated I was and eventually started the Pitocin. At some point, they moved us to a larger room.
At 4 cms the nurse asked if I wanted my epidural. I hesitated and then she explained that there were SEVEN inductions today and one other unexpected delivery. In other words, it was now or never. My contractions, which I hadn’t really begun to feel until about 9 or 10 am, were getting stronger so I told her, yes, go ahead and notify the anesthesiologist. I am so thankful she got real with me because it took the anesthesiologist over an hour to get to me and by that time, any fear I may have had about a giant needle going in my back had gone out the window – the pain was really kicking in. I remember my consciousness fading a bit at this point.
The relief was instantaneous but the contractions kept coming. The epidural did start to wear off on my right side around 8-9 cm. Those contractions were no joke!
At 6:30, I had reached 9 cm. I stayed at 9 cm until 9:00 when my doctor and nurses decided it was time to push. Pushing was incredibly difficult and I felt as though we weren’t getting anywhere. And we weren’t the little guy moved back up the birth canal. The nurses began to turn me every few minutes to attempt to make him move back down. They kept saying, “we need to get him to move.” I asked what would happen if he didn’t, knowing the answer, but the nurses would not tell me. They tried everything to no avail. Finally, at 9:30 my doctor told me what I was dreading to hear. Caesarean section. Basically, because R’s heart rate spiked and I had lost so much amniotic fluid – to the point that an infection may occur – I would need to have a c-section. Of course, he wasn’t budging either.
I cried so much that I threw up. I had this perfect plan for how I wanted labor to go and it wasn’t to be.
An hour later, I was being wheeled to the OR. Edwin would follow shortly. I had so much anesthesia that I felt heavy. I tried to get on the table myself but the nurses laughed and said that was their job. I was transferred from the bed to the table, where my arms were strapped down and the anesthesiologist began administering more medicine. I remember being very cold and scared. I prayed harder than I have ever prayed and just kept wishing for my husband. It seemed like hours before they brought him back (interestingly, he felt the same out in the waiting room with his friends). When he was finally back there, I told him I loved him and that I was so scared that I wouldn’t make it. He just held my hand.
I don’t remember them cutting me open. In fact, I was on so much medicine that I was fading in and out at this point. Suddenly, though, my husband said, “He’s here. Here’s our son.” My arms were strapped so I couldn’t hold him but my husband held him to me and I kissed him. He was incredibly beautiful. Absolutely perfect.
I remember noticing how big and angry he looked and that image was burned in my head until I saw him again – nearly three hours later!
Initially, I was very upset that I didn’t get to hold my son until the wee morning hours after he was born. Today, I am okay. I had plenty of time to bond in the days and weeks that followed.