You can't tell but I am chuckling to myself as I type. Here I thought Zoey's birth story
was wild, but her little brother had to one up her. Just goes to show I know absolutely nothing.
I had said before that this pregnancy had been physically harder than the first two, and that became more and more true as the weeks went on. Especially the last two weeks. My blood pressure was much higher than normal, my hands and feet were swelling, I had a constant headache, and some spotty and blurry vision. Blessed be my OB, she decided at 39 weeks that it was time to induce and get the baby out. Being that I was done - I didn't argue and in fact, asked to hug her.
She had said that her method for induction (cytotec) was different than pitocin and that it would be "much slower and more gradual." So, I was excited thinking that things wouldn't be as insane and fast as they were with Zoey - who was induced using pitocin.
We checked into the hospital at 7:30pm and I was 3cm dilated. After getting settled and answering the myriad of questions about my health, past pregnancies, and current pregnancy - I had my first dose of cytotec at 9pm and second dose at midnight. I didn't really notice any significant change at this point - just irregular contractions.
I took a third dose at 3am and I don't know if things had been building up or if that dose was just the magical kickstarter - but holy hell. Shit got real, real quick. I immediately started having legit contractions, and while I wasn't timing them - there wasn't much time in between. I got out of bed to try and walk/sway through the contractions but the nurse immediately came in and said "the baby doesn't like that..." (meaning his heart rate was dropping with each contraction) and said I had to either sit down or lie down. Awesome.
So I sat in the rocking chair for awhile and around 5am - asked if it was too early for an epidural. I described my contractions to the nurse as "long and strong" and couldn't help but sing a little Sir Mix A Lot "Baby Got Back" to myself to try and distract myself from the pain. The nurse sort of laughed, probably thinking I was a big wuss, and said she would ask. She came right back in the room and said that it was fine and that she had paged the anesthesiologist.
An hour of laboring later and the anesthesiologist finally showed up around 6am. So, she got to work on me while I was having contractions every two minutes, some back-to-back-to-back. At some point I told Ryan to call my mom and Rachel and tell them to get to the hospital "right now." Ryan had offered to let me squeeze his hands during the contractions (and to try and help me focus on staying still while she was trying to get the catheter in) and after the first squeeze he said "ow!" and I told him to "shut up."
After six (or maybe seven?) failed attempts of getting the catheter in my back, the anesthesiologist telling me repeatedly that I have a "beautiful back," and some puking, the nurse told the anesthesiologist to stop. The baby was having significant dips in his heartrate and she thought that I might be "getting close." So, the devil woman stopped poking me and I laid down to be checked. Seriously, all that poking and stabbing for nothing.
Lo and behold - I was at 10cm with a bulging bag and he was ready to come out. This was great and all but the only people in the room were me, Ryan, the nurse, and the anesthesiologist. The room and the few people in it weren't prepared for delivery at all.
Our poor nurse. She told the anesthesiologist to "go get help" and she called my OB to let her know what was happening. In order to keep the baby in, they told me to flip over and get on all-fours with my head below my butt. This was by far the worst part of this labor. I cannot even describe how uncomfortable it was and how intense the contractions were in this position and at the angle I was at. I kept looking over at Ryan to make sure he was still standing. I think we were both worried that like Zoey's birth, the intensity would be too much for him and he would pass out again. But, hallelujah, he was staying upright!
I have no idea how much time passed but before long, the room was full of nurses and I was swearing up a storm. Mostly "fuck's" and "holy shit's." Maybe even a few "mother fucker's." I don't really know for sure. Thankfully most of my swearing was muffled by the oxygen mask.
The nurse told me to flip over and I wasted no time. I grabbed my legs and as soon as the next contraction hit - I started pushing. Like Zoey's birth - pushing felt so good. In the weirdest way it was a relief. So, I pushed once and heard "there's his head!" I pushed two more times and he came on out. Ryan said he was in a weird, semi-curled up position, but regardless - he came out.
Thank you, sweet infant baby Jesus. Seriously, instant relief.
He was so quiet and only cried a tiny, tiny bit - I kept asking if he was OK! The doctor and nurses assured me he was fine and I just stared at this sweet baby that was literally just in my body. Mom and Rachel missed his birth by literally a minute and heard his first cry through the room's door. I felt terrible that they missed it.
Four hours from the start of legit labor and contractions to the birth of this beautiful little squishy boy. Another birth experience, like his big brother and big sister, that I will never forget.