Does anyone remember that Jori came 10 days early?? You probably do if you've been around me at all over the past month, because when people would ask when the baby was due I'd say "Well September 5th, but my daughter came 10 days early so I'm treating this pregnancy like he'll be coming that early, too." And in fact, I was in labor 11 days early with hers--she just didn't pop out till the next day. Accordingly, 11 days before my due date I was ready to rumble! But then the day ended, with no real contractions. (Just some lame-o pinched nerve pains...those were the worst!) Then 10 days before ended. Then 9 days before, I had a doctor's appointment and the doc said "You're looking great! Have you given any thought to being induced?" Wham bam oh hot slam, four days later I was scheduled to have a baby boy!
I went back and forth during the week on if I'd go through with it or not, but come the night before my mind was made up. We slept over at my parents, because Jori was going to be taken care of by them and I was supposed to receive the call to come into the hospital between 5:30 and 7:00 AM, so I thought it'd be easier to just be there and then she (and my parents) wouldn't have to be woken up at such an early hour.
After a less-then-refreshing night's sleep, I arose at the ripe hour of 4:20 in the morning. Boo. I did my hair because I figured, "I'll be looking at those baby pics the rest of my life!," had some breakfast and...waited. And waited. And waited. Come 7:05 I called the number they gave me, to call in case I hadn't been called myself at that point. They told me it had been a crazy morning, and there were three scheduled inductions before me so I wouldn't be getting in until it freed up a bit. Call back in a few hours. Dang it...
...finally exhaustion took over (after everyone else had been awake about half an hour because, of course it did), so I went back to sleep for about an hour. Then I just felt drowsy from not getting enough sleep the rest of the morning, as well as anxious. It was funny how I'd been so back and forth on if I'd do it, but then when it got postponed unexpectedly I was going crazy! I guess my mind was made up and I didn't want to wait any longer once it was.
After going back to our own apartment and doing some last minute tidying (which, actually, I'm SO glad I did), finally I received the call at 11:45 AM that there was room for me and to head on over to the hospital. Hurray! I gave Jori a snuggle and smooch, and off we headed. (She had no problem with me being gone, p.s. She didn't even want to come back to live with us after a fun weekend with Grandma and Papa Christensen. Sheesh!)
After we finalized some paperwork and I was all seated in a room, I felt dumb because all I'd brought for entertainment were DVDs and they didn't have a DVD player. So we just waited forever, playing on our phones and me writing thank you cards for baby shower gifts. But the pitocin was a-drippin,' so it was progressing.
I was curious to see how long I could last without the epidural, and was feeling all impressive and snug when Sam or the nurse would ask "How you feeling? Did you feel that?" And I was like "Psshhh, piece of cake..." And then they really started to pick up. It was the weirdest reaction--I didn't exactly want to yell, but I wanted to...I don't know. Express myself somehow? So I started doing these silly Mexican shouts when a strong contraction would hit. Like, tongue roll and everything.
Finally, after only dialating one additional centimeter to how much I was before even entering the hospital (so I was at a 4), the nurse said the doctor would be coming in to break my water soon. When was that...probably like 5:00. (I was also feeling way hungry at this point. Who is thinking about food at a time like that?! Me. I hadn't eaten since I woke up the second time, so at about 8:15 that morning. Man I get grumpy when I'm hungry...)
That's when I finally broke. I could handle the contractions up to that point, but I recalled hearing from multiple sources that if you have to have your water broken, it kills. So I was almost frantic (inside...I actually have a hard time demanding things from nurses, waiters, etc.) saying "Yeah I think I'd like the epidural before that happens, actually. Stat. Pronto. Please," so off the nurse went and fetched the anesthesiologist. Hallelujuah!
Surprisingly, I got really freaked out when he actually came to do it. I mean I was in control, but emotionally I was terrified. Didn't expect it. I'm so glad Sam was there, holding my hand and helping me to feel a bit better. Cause I knew it was a huge needle going into my spine, but also the numbing stuff they do before it burns like ghost peppers. Yikes.
Fortunately it was over in a jiff because duh, they're qualified to do what they do, and things started feeling better. The only downside was my doctor had been called away and then the next doctor was actually on shift like an hour later, so I had to just wait for him. (The OBGYN group I went through is like that--there are about 7 doctors and you just get whoever is on call.)
Still, at...6:30? Some time, my doctor popped in and broke the water. And THIS is where I got a glimpse of the other side I never wanted to: it started killing 'down below,' for me. Hurt way way bad. My nurse checked me and said I was at a 5, but that if I were dialated more this baby was ready to rumble because he was so so low. Like he'd pop out immediately if there were room in the door for him. So I think this is why? Anyway it was a killer. And I blame it on the hunger as well, but I just started crying. I couldn't do this! I hadn't prepared to feel everything, I hadn't taken a Lamaze or hypno-birthing class or any of that! But my downstairs and also the site of the epidural were just, miserably painful. (And I'm sure this is super wussy sounding to those who have delivered naturally...but that's how I was feeling, folks.) So finally I couldn't wait any longer and when the nurse asked if I wanted the anesthesiologist to come back and give me a stronger dose, I took her up on it. And good thing! I asked her to check again shortly thereafter and she was like "Oh! You're at a 10!" Yeah I went like, three weeks at a three, four hours at a four even with pitocin, but then in 45 minutes after the water was broken shot from a 5 to a 10. No wonder it was painful, my body was like "Let's do this thang!" Fortunately the extra dose was immediately and gloriously efffective, and though my legs were truly dead at that point it was worth it to me.
So after 20 minutes o' pushing, our little Atticus Hugh Hatch entered the world. (Jori took an hour and a half, so I was pleased it was so much faster with this bud.) Hurray! At six days early he was 8 pounds even, and 20 inches long. Chubalub. :)
The only scary part was that he came out and didn't make a sound. The doctor seemed calm though, as well as everyone else in the room. (It was like a circus, I forgot to mention--there was my doctor, but then another doctor who actually stitched me up, I think she's a new one so like just finished training kind of, and then there was my nurse and another nurse-in-training as well.) Atticus did start huffing shortly, but he didn't let out any real good wails and so they decided he needed to go to the NICU for a short while, to receive some oxygen. Apparently it's very common, but his lungs weren't as fully expanded as they wanted. So receiving oxygen just helps that along. The major downside to this was I only got to hold him for literally about one minute before they took him away, and they'd already wrapped him up and stuff. That was disappointing, but I didn't feel like I could say "Wait, I wanted to do skin to skin!" When he was bound for the NICU. So I watched them take him away, feeling a bit robbed.
The whole thing was just a bit surreal. Still, after being in the NICU for...something like 3 hours, he was ready for the nursery and then us. So even though I was dead tired, I was thrilled to get to finally really hold him and snuggle him and just, feel the love, at about 12:30 in the morning.
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