It was time to have our second child. Having had a baby once before, I figured that this would be easy. Since I had been dilated to 2cm for 3 weeks, the Doc decided it was time to induce. So off to the hospital at 5am on the morning of July 24, 2007. We left our 2 ½ year-old daughter, Cadence, in the capable hands of my parents and my sister. My mom and my sister would be joining us later, but for now, it was just the hubby and I.We arrived at the hospital, and within an hour I am checked in and hooked up to Pitocin. Ah, Pitocin, you cruel, harsh beast. Things progress steadily and quietly for the next few hours. Sometime between 9:30/10am my mother-in-law (I had invited her to be in the delivery room because she had not been present for any of her grandchildren’s births yet) and my mom had both shown up. Trying to hold out on the pain meds as long as possible to impress the M-I-L (she had 6 of her 7 kids naturally, saint!) I finally caved and opted for the IV Nubane, which had been my dear, dear friend during my first delivery. It took much longer for the Nubane to kick in this time, but once it did….whoo hoo! I am feeling just fine. I take this chance (not that I have much of a choice thanks to the Nubane) to drift in and out of sleep. I need my rest for what is coming…
Then two things happen at about 1pm. The Epidural Man shows up and does a wonderful job and The Doc ruptures my water bag. I care little about either of those things because the Nubane is still treating me very well. I am peacefully drifting in and out of sleep, or so I think.
At some point, my mom wakes me up and is asking if I feel ok. “Yes, I just want to sleep, leave me alone.” I was rather annoyed. Unbeknownst to me, my blood pressure has dropped dangerously low. I am drifting in and out of consciousness, not sleep, and my breathing is very altered and ragged. The Epidural Man comes back in to monitor me (this does NOT ever happen, that’s how dangerous my situation was) but The Nurse continues to reassure everyone I am fine (my mom doesn’t buy it for a second). They decide to back off the Epidural in the hopes that it will right my breathing and level of awareness.
At 1:45pm, the most remarkable thing happens. My eyes fly open and I proclaim, “I feel pressure!” The Nurse checks me and I am dilated to 9cm. Now The Doc had just been there at 1pm and I was only at 5cm. So this is rather hurried. They thought for sure we had hours to go. So The Nurse notifies The Doc that I might need his assistance shortly. The Doc, however, decided to start a surgery, thinking we had plenty of time. Meanwhile, as The Nurse walks out of the room to notify The Doc, I turn to my mom and say, “I feel like I have to push.” Literally The Nurse had walked out of the room, called The Doc, when my mom went in search of her to say I felt like I needed to push. The Nurse came back in and checked me, proclaiming as soon as she saw between my legs, “Oh, there’s the head! OK, so don’t push, try to hold him in. We need a doctor to deliver him. Roll over and keep your legs together so he doesn’t come out.”
Now some of you may know what it feels like when you need to push. I liked to believe I explained calmly and nicely to this crazy lady that to hold him in would be impossible, but I doubt that is what happened. I think what I actually said was “Oh you’ve got to be effing kidding me!” But roll over I did. And breathe. The hubby, my mom, and my mother-in-law were great at keeping me focused. “You can do it!” was all I kept hearing while I struggled and cried and screamed.
Somewhere in this hurried mess, my mom had managed to call my sister and tell her to get here now. Since my parent's house is only 5 minutes from the hospital, my sister walked in just in time to witness the crazed scene that follows.
The call went out over the hospital PA system, “Any OB report to the 3rd floor immediately!” A very nice, but clueless ER doctor with emergency delivery training showed up. Having no time to prepare the bed, she sat on the end and asked the nurses what to do. Oh goodness! After what seemed like an eternity, The Nurse and The ER Doc allowed me to right myself for pushing. I rolled over, took a deep breath, and pushed. After a couple of long, stinging (my poor perineum!) pushes, our son entered the world. He was beautiful, although very bruised from his long wait in the birth canal (its cramped in there!). But even with his purple, swollen face, he was gorgeous. I could not have been prouder.
The ER Doc left right after delivery and The Doc got there just in time to do the dirty work. Two stitches (just like my first time), some clean sheets, and a fresh gown later I was holding our son, falling in love, and giving him the gift of breast milk. What a day. Andrew Letterman Foutz, 8lbs, 3oz, 21 ¾ inches long. Born at 2:15pm. I’d do it again in a heartbeat. Maybe someday, I will.
