Would-be Supermom's Procrastination Central: Baby Ben is here!

Baby Ben has finally arrived, and boy was he worth the wait. I'm totally enthralled, as is the rest of the family. I have so much to say about him already, but I'm going to start with the birth story, by popular demand. Quit reading now if you're not interested in such things.

So, we arrived at the hospital as scheduled, bright and early last Thursday morning. The plan was this: if he had turned himself back around, we'd do a regular-old-induction. If he was still breech or transverse, we wouldn't mess around with trying to turn him, but would go right for the C-section. It was kind of my way of letting him decide which way he wanted to enter the world.

We registered downstairs at the hospital before heading up to the maternity wing, and when I got up from the registration desk, the baby started to shift in a big way. I wasn't sure he was actually turning himself around, but he was definitely on the move. Not long afterwards we were settled into the room and they got out the ultrasound machine... and lo and behold, he had indeed turned himself around! I honestly felt a little thrown by this, because I had so geared myself up for a C-section. No labor, no pushing, no indescribably excruciating pain going on and on and on (and on...). And sure, you end up with your stomach cut open, but you're pretty much likely to end up cut or torn open the other way, too. Anyway, whatever--it's not that I was totally hoping for a C-section! It's just that it had already been such a roller coaster ride up to that point, and it felt like every time I wrapped my mind around a plan the plan changed, and I was just getting kind of... overwhelmed and exhausted from it all. Little did I know how much more of that was in store for me at that point!

Ok, so, they hooked me right up to the pitocin, and almost immediately I started up with regular contractions. Every two minutes, right on the money. They were mild, but the dosage was low, so we all took this as a great sign, figuring they'd increase beautifully with the dosage. We started placing bets on when the baby would be born. Noon? Three? Four? Whatever; we knew it would be very soon. In the meantime, we passed the time watching a Brady Bunch marathon on TVLand, which felt sort of appropriate, since Bob and I both grew up on that show, and also family and friends have joked, more than once, that we're the new Brady Bunch....

They made me fast all day, and made me walk the halls with my mobile IV and in my hospital gown (which made me feel like a nursing home patient), and even had me bouncing on this gigantic ball, which made me feel quite silly. But I didn't care--I was so excited that we were finally going to meet little Ace, face-to-face.

But my body seemed to have other plans. They cranked that pitocin up on me all day long, and NOTHING. The contractions stayed mild, and I was not even the slightest bit dilated. The doctor said if nothing had happened by about 4pm we'd re-evaluate. Well, by 4pm the contractions were still so mild I was barely tensing up, and I was still all sealed up like Fort Knox. I was quite distraught! I hadn't anticipated that the pitocin wouldn't do anything! Was I ever going to have this baby?

The doctor said if I really had had enough, she'd give me the C-section, but she was recommending taking the night to go with a few applications of cytotec, a suppository that is supposed to make you dilate and get you more ready for labor. In fact, I had the cytotec with George, and it slammed me right into labor, which apparently it does in rare cases. I was pretty much sure that that's what would happen this time, and the doctor agreed it was highly likely. So, we decided we'd go ahead and give it a try, and then if I still wasn't in labor by the morning we'd go for the C-section.

They let me have a little dinner (hospital food never tasted so good) and gave me a sleeping pill so I could get at least a few hours of sleep before my body kicked into labor, which we were pretty sure would happen in the wee hours of the morning.

Except it didn't. By 8am, I had gotten a very nice night's sleep (thanks to the Ambien), but still no labor! I couldn't believe it. However, I had now dilated (drumroll, please) 1 (one, uno, un) centimeter. 24 hours on labor-inducing drugs, and that's all my body had for me. One centimeter. Oh, yes, and still the very, very, very mild contractions (I couldn't really even feel them, but they were showing up on the monitor). Still, it was progress. Soooo, we decided we'd go for one last day of pitocin, and if I hadn't had the baby or at least gone into some further stage of labor by the afternoon, *then* we'd do the C-section!

Back on the pitocin, for one hour... two hours... and still nothing. I was really starting to get discouraged, and was wishing I had opted for the C-section 24 hours earlier! What was the deal? Did this baby just not want to be born?

It was at that point that my husband suddenly figured it all out. He told me that he thought I needed to give my body permission to go into labor. That it wasn't that this baby just didn't want to come out, that it was more that my body was just refusing to go into labor, because it was so traumatic for me last time.

Wow, when he said it, it really clicked. I just knew he was right. As soon as I heard that I tried to grant myself that permission by visualizing it happening, but I really couldn't! Every time I tried to see it happening it was just a complete and total blank, except for a feeling of absolute terror.

I know women have been giving birth since the beginning of people, obviously, and that many, many women have done it multiple times, and that some women even don't mind it. But for me, the last time, it was--well, I don't really want to dwell on it, but let's just say it was beyond traumatic. Unspeakably painful. Inconceivably so. It took me a very long time to recover physically, and mentally/emotionally I obviously still had not recovered. I'm pretty sure I had some sort of PTSD from it, which had remained at least partly unresolved. Seriously, I was terrified. And I was pretty sure that terror was holding me back in a significant way.

Whether the simple acknowledgment of the problem was enough or the cranking up of the pitocin was finally having some sort of effect, at about that point my water broke. It was the coolest thing, actually! I felt the baby drop in there all of a sudden (did I mention he had still been riding *totally* high up to that point?), and then whoosh. The reason I found it to be so cool was that my body was finally doing something to cooperate with this whole plan. It was finally responding. It felt like the sign I had been waiting and waiting for that this was going to happen!

The bad news was there was meconium in the water. If you're squeamish and you're still reading, stop now! Meconium is the baby's first bowel movement, which they usually take in their first 24 hours after being born. The doctors don't like it if the baby takes it while still in the womb, because it can put the baby in distress (it can get in their little lungs). But his heart rate was ok and everything seemed fine, so no rush to a C-section just yet anyway.

Soon after my water broke the contractions started getting stronger, which again, I found very encouraging. Weird to be wanting/waiting for/welcoming pain, but that's just the deal. As the contractions increased, I asked the nurse if she wanted to check to see how dilated I was, and she told me she'd check in a few hours. Hold up: a few hours? I was going to have this baby within a few hours, thankyouverymuch. I wanted to be checked because I did NOT want to miss my window for the all-important epidural that I did not get to have the last time, but this time was GOING. TO. HAVE. At all costs.

I had been talking to my doctor about an epidural pretty much since I had met her, way back in September. She had assured me, repeatedly and in front of witnesses (my mom and Bob) that I could have my epidural WHENEVER I WANTED IT. She does not believe in making women wait for it if they know they want it, especially if they're on pitocin at the time. She had told me this flat out, and I was banking on it. In fact it was pretty much the only thought that was getting me through my absolute terror. And there was NO WAY that I was going to miss my window for it, and I told the nurse as much.

Once the contractions started increasing, they started getting very intense very quickly. Still the nurse refused to check me (they don't want to over-check especially once the water has broken, for fear of infection). But I could tell I was suddenly progressing quickly, and was further along than she thought I was, and I told her so. I mean, I had been through this before! I told her that, too. She told me not to worry, that she'd make sure I got my epidural. But I was worried.

Anyway, I had been walking around the room and bouncing on that darned ball, because that was what they told me would move things along. And when the contractions got really strong, actually the most comfortable position I could find was sitting on that ball, leaning way forward. Except they couldn't get a read on my contractions when I was that way, so they told me I had to get back in bed and lie down so they could get a good contraction pattern going. I didn't like this idea one bit, because when I was in bed before I could feel the contractions much more strongly, and they were, at this point, *quite* intense and painful. But I agreed.

As I lay there, they got really bad. REALLY bad. Like, approaching the point where I really couldn't handle it. I told the nurse that I wanted my epidural, and I wanted it now. I told her that my doctor had PROMISED me I could have it WHENEVER I WANTED IT, and that I was NOT making that up. (Actually, I had already told her that, but I told her again, with great emphasis and insistence.) The nurse clearly thought I was delusional, though she told me she believed me. But she added that I had to be at least 3cm dilated, that they had to follow these guidelines, that it was their policy or something. I told her a) that's not what my dr. said, and b) to go ahead and check me because I was thinking I probably was that dilated by now. She thought I'd gone off the deep end and tried to calm me down. She also told me that the epidural doesn't work completely on everyone, which I knew but thought was just kinda cruel of her to bring it up! It made me start crying and telling Bob that I didn't think I could do this, that I really didn't want to do this, that I hated it and why-hadn't-I-had-the-C-section, etc. etc.

My crying seemed to have gotten her attention at least a little bit, because she told me she'd go get me something for the pain. I said all I wanted was the epidural, but she said this other thing would help, so I let her go.

The second she was out the door I grabbed my phone and pulled up my doctor's number, and thrust the phone at Bob, telling him he *had* to call her and tell her I needed my freaking epidural NOW!

I was afraid the office wouldn't put him through to the doctor (they never let you talk to the dr.), but I guess the magic words are "My wife is in labor right now", so they put him through. He told her: "My wife's water broke, she's in labor, and if she doesn't get her epidural soon I think she's going to kill someone." Atta boy, Bob! My hero!!! The doctor said of course, she'd call the nurses right away.

I couldn't take lying down anymore, and frankly I'd had it with these nurses and their contraction patterns and their no-epidurals-until-we-say-so, so I just got up, which I knew would help at least a little bit. Bob tried to stop me, but I barked that I was not going to let some 20-something who had never been through this herself tell me what to do when I knew what I needed!

Let me state for the record that I actually really liked the nurse. I really did! She was kind of a hippie-chick with a nose ring and a really up-beat demeanor, and was really into the whole visualization thing when we'd talked about it. I had taken an instant liking to her when I'd met her in the morning. And I thought it was awesome that our little rock-and-roll baby had arranged to arrive during the shift of such a cool nurse. But this was a whole new thing at this point. This was just about showtime. This was my labor and it was going to go my way!

Anyway, the nurses came back in with the other medication and their promises that it would make me feel better right away. It was kind of awkward to have to tell them that we had just called the doctor and she was ordering the epidural right then. I could tell they were a bit taken aback that we had gone over their heads like that, and I did not like having any awkwardness added to the mix right then, but what-are-ya-gonna-do. Anyway, I guess this other drug wasn't going to interfere with the epidural and I was pretty much out-of-my-mind with pain at that point so I really didn't question it. And in fact, whatever it was (I still don't know), it was great. It did take the edge off. They made me get back on the bed because they said it would make me dizzy (which it did), but they didn't make me lie down, thank goodness. They did check me for dilation at that point and guess what? I was nearly 3cm. How 'bout that.

Very soon thereafter, the anesthesiologist arrived. The skies opened up and a chorus of angels rang out a Hallelujah. While he was inserting the needle I had to stay still for quite a lengthy time (I mean, staying still at all when you're in excruciating pain will feel like a lengthy time), and I did feel a sense of pride when he praised me for staying so still, telling me I was in the top 10% for not moving. Ever the achiever!

Once the epidural kicked in, I was hugely relieved. The unbearable pain stopped. However, the pain did not stop altogether. I did still feel the contractions and they were pretty uncomfortable. I started to cry again, partly out of relief that I finally had it, partly out of exhaustion from having had to fight so hard to get it, and probably mostly out of fear that when I got to the pushing part it would hurt really badly again. Bob was my rock, and helped me get through that little breakdown.

Finally I was able to relax--so much so, in fact, that I felt I might even be able to drift off to sleep. Now *this* was the way to be in labor! The nurses left me hooked up to the monitors and said they'd be keeping a close eye on them from their station down the hall.

The baby's heartbeat was lulling me to sleep. Ba-boom. Ba-boom. Ba-boom.

And then suddenly, a pause. I jerked to full attention. It started right back up again, but in just a few seconds the nurses came rushing back in and announced that they needed to check me to see if it could be time for me to push. Nine and a half centimeters! We were ready to roll!

I pushed for a total of about an hour and 15 minutes or so, I *think*. I can't remember when exactly the doctor arrived, but I was definitely glad to see her. She had ordered some extra equipment to be in the room because of the meconium, but there had been a shift change with the nurses and the equipment wasn't there. I could tell she was not happy about that and seemed to be kind of worried, but I was just so happy that I was pushing and could feel enough to push but not really enough for it to hurt that it didn't really register. Also I had said something when she got there along the lines of how earlier I had been wishing I had gone for the C-section after all but that it was too late now. She sort of hesitated, as if to say "Not so fast, it could still come to that," and said something like "Well, right, um, we'll see." Whatever. I was so happy that the pushing was going so well--I wasn't going to let anything freak me out or spoil my mood!

But at a certain point it became clear that everything was not ok. It was kind of a blur, but something about the baby's heart rate was dropping significantly with each contraction, and also the worry about the meconium... She started talking about a vacuum and said something about how if that didn't work we might have to even take the next step (which was pretty clearly the C-section). WHAT? WHAT? I had NOT come all this way to have things go wrong now.

She told me I had two more pushes to try, and then she was going to have to intervene. The next push after she told me that I was gearing up to give it everything I had, except then I just burst into tears. I was so worried about my little baby! It was an awful feeling! I couldn't bear to think of him in any kind of danger! Anyway, I pulled myself together and gave the next one every last bit of everything I had, and thank heavens, it was enough. Out he came, my beautiful, precious baby, crying and breathing and everything. They laid him right on my chest and oh-my-goodness, words can only gesture at the sense of relief I felt.

The doctor held up the cord and said it was the longest cord she had ever seen. No wonder he was able to move all around in there, she said!

Pretty soon after they put him on me, they had to take him back and put him on the warmer table next to me, to suction (not vacuum, just suction with the little manual suction thing) him all out to remove as much meconium and fluid as they could get to. This whole process took quite awhile, but I didn't care. I was busy feeling intense relief!

Once he was all cleaned up and given the ok, and was back on my chest, and my mom and Bob's mom and the three kids had come in to meet him and take some pictures and had gone again, I went on this amazing high. I have never felt anything like it. Wow. Wow.

I had heard about women getting a high from a newborn, but I don't know if I really believed it. When I had George, ten years ago, I was filled with an incredible sense of love for him, right away, for sure. I was amazed by him and couldn't get enough of him and thought he was a miracle, the best thing ever. But at the same time, I felt like I'd been beaten senseless and left for dead by the side of the road. Which as you might imagine kind of put a damper not on my feelings for my perfect new baby, but on my mood in general. So I really did not understand this whole newborn high thing.

But this time, I got it. And I was so happy! I was so happy I was getting to experience how great it can be! People had told me that giving birth could be a beautiful thing, but I had always thought "Yeah, for everyone but the mother"--I thought that for the mother it was just truly barbaric. Barbaric, I tell you! But I could see now that it really can be beautiful, and wow, what a feeling. The only thing that made me the slightest bit sad was that Bob and I hadn't started early enough that we could make ten more of these enchanting little creatures.

I stayed up almost the whole night, just holding him and gazing upon him. And I have pretty much been on cloud 9 ever since.

A quick photo-tour of the two-day event...