The delivery in a nutshell:
I broke down and agreed to Induction 6 days overdue. The clincher was that Derick would already be off for Memorial day and the my OB would be on call that day. I ate a good dinner and traveled down to the hospital Sunday night. The Pitocin was started at 10 pm. Real contractions started at 11pm. I had three big ones and felt a pop. Really... A Pop! I got up to pee and realized my water had broken. I was a little horrified when it was green, but tried not to let it show on my face as not to worry Derick. I knew that babies sometimes pass meconium and that everything usually turns out alright. Still, it was GREEN!! The nurse assured me that a NICU team was standing by just in case. Well, I went back to bed and was determined to breath through those labor pains and push that little guy out. After breathing and moaning for the better part of an hour, I began weighing the option of that epidural. I thought to myself that if I could just get some space between contractions I would be really be able to do without. The nurse, mom, and Derick kept reassuring me and telling me what a good job I was doing. Then, the donning realization that the nurse was ramping up that Pit in order to have my contractions come steadily 1 1/2 minutes apart. There was going to be no relief. Even if I could do it without the epidural, I didn't want to and I didn't have to! Once I made the decision, the anesthesiologist couldn't come fast enough. AAH! Sweet relief!
Sometime shortly after midnight the baby was showing decelerations in his heart rate, so they took me off the Pit. Then, apparently I was forgotten about for the next 2 hours. I am sure I should have been really upset, but I slept so soundly, I lost whatever feeling was left in the left side of my body. When the apologetic nurse came in around 2pm to check me she and I were elated to find that I had spontaneously begun to labor on my own and would not need to be put back on the Pit. After emptying a liter out of my bladder, I progressed rapidly and felt like pushing sometime before 7am. Even though it was shift change, my nurse stayed with me and we pushed Ian out in half an hour. Mom held one leg, the nurse held the other, and Derick counted staying near my head the whole time.
Ian presented with the cord loosely around his neck which would explain the decelerations. Derick deferred cutting the cord, so my mom got to do it. The NICU team was able to safely suction Ian's airway, and he was fine. They put him on my chest, he popped up his little head, and stared me right in the face. I was in love all over again.
Since then:
We have survived one month of feedings, diaperings, rockings, wailings, and burpings. I have come to the conclusion that despite all the reading and preparing, I have no idea what I am doing and I am just happy to make it through another day. Ian is packing on the chub, so I must be doing something right. If anyone has any suggestions for getting him to sleep in his own bed, I would be grateful. Also, if anyone can explain why he seems to want to nurse voraciously only to pop off the breast howling inconsolably. I have considered that there is something wrong with my breast, my milk, his mouth, or his belly. I am thinking it might be gas, but the gas drops don't seem to be helping. This is not all day every day, but it is very vexing in the middle of the night. I hope the doctor can shed some light at his checkup next week.
I am drunk on the warm feeling that washes over me when I am nestled snugly between the two most important men in my life and they are both sleeping soundly. I also love that magic spark that passes when Ian stares at me with those baby blues.
