Samuel Edward

It’s only taken me a week, but I am finally going to take a shot at writing down Sammy’s birth story. I wish I had done it sooner, as I’m sure I’ve already forgotten some details, but better late than never…

At my 37 week appointment, I found out that the baby was in the footling breech position. Unless the baby turned, I was going to have a c-section on April 7. I decided against having a version to try to turn the baby, and it seemed pretty unlikely that he would turn on his own that late in the pregnancy, so I had prepared myself for the fact that I was going to have a c-section, and I was ok with that.

However, at my 38 week appointment, we discovered he had indeed flipped and was in the right position. The doctor, nurses and ultrasound tech were all super excited that he could be born vaginally, and I guess I was too, but it was another big shift in thinking – I had spent the previous week preparing myself otherwise, so while it was good news, it was unexpected and a little stressful, too. Especially since my doc didn’t wnat to take any chances on him turning again, and told me to be at the hospital at 7:00 that night! My immediate response was “Well in that case, I am not going to work today!”

I went across the street to Panera, and sat at a table with my bagel and cell phone, trying to think of all the things I needed to do. I called my boss and told him the situation and that I was not going in that day. Fortunately, I had things pretty well organized by that point (at least I think they were, my colleagues may disagree), so my early departure wasn’t going to be that big a deal.

Next, I called Andy and told him that we were going to the hospital that night. He could hardly believe it – like me, he had it in his mind that the baby was going to arrive on April 7. This was April 1. About 10 minutes later, he called me back and said “Before I go tell the principal and everyone that I’m not going to be here tomorrow, promise me that this isn’t some sort of sick April Fools joke.” That would have been a good joke, but my mind was racing so much with this new news that I was not in a joking frame of mind! I then called my dad to tell him to expect Kate and all her stuff to show up on his doorstep that night, and headed home.

Once I got home, I sent several work emails, set my out-of-office reply, and got everything situated on that front. I did some things around the house and then took a short nap. It was hard to believe that it was the last time I was going to be home before the baby was born.

Andy arrived home from school around 3:00, and we went to pick Kate up from the sitter’s. Her first t-ball practice ever was scheduled for the next day, so we took her to Meijer to buy a glove (and a Barbie, we are suckers and would have bought her one of everything at that point) and then to Wendy’s for dinner. We dropped her off at my dad’s, and instead of the sad, teary goodbye I had envisioned, she barely looked up from Barbie when we told her we were leaving. I had been really worried about this part – leaving her with all the unknowns of the hospital and birth in front of us, but it didn’t end up being as traumatic (for either of us) as I had envisioned, fortunately.

We arrived at the hospital about 45 minutes early and waited until they eventually took us back to the labor and delivery room. The nurse went through all the standard questioning with me… do I smoke, drink, do drugs, etc. I told the truth on those. However, as I had before Kate’s birth, I lied about my weight! How’s that for issues?? Yeah. So anyway, she got me hooked up with an IV and stuff, and we talked about how the night was going to go. When Kate was born, they gave me Nuprin (I think) and it made me ca-razy, so I had talked to my doctor about not getting that this time, and she said just to get the epidural earlier (um, if you insist!), so I filled the nurse in on this and she was on board with the plan.

Around 9:00, they gave me some of that gel stuff to soften my cervix. This caused me to have contractions, but nothing major at all. Andy and I just hung out and watched “The Biggest Loser” and wished this baby had been born during a better night of tv. At midnight, they gave me another gel thingy and a sleeping pill, and Andy and I were both able to get some rest.

At 4 a.m., they started the Pitocin and we really got down to business. As designed, this made the contractions come stronger, but it wasn’t too awful. I think the worst I ever rated the pain on the 1-10 scale was a 4.

Around 5 a.m., Dr. Bob the friendly anesthesiologist came in to give me my epidural. They sent Andy out of the room, and Dr. Bob and I chatted about how he had given me the epi when Kate was born and about what his kids were studying at Ohio State. Always good to have something to talk about while someone’s sticking a 12 in needle (or at least that’s what I imagined) into your spine.

Dr. Bob’s magic did the trick, though. The next time the nurse asked me for my pain level, I said “I’m not in any pain.” She said “So is that a zero?” and I was like “Yep.” It was pretty awesome. I couldn’t feel a thing… in fact, I kept making Andy check the monitors to see if I was still having contractions (which I was).

At 6:00, a resident came in to break my water. He used one of those fetal heart monitors to do so, which freaked me out a little (because they go into the surface of the baby’s scalp) and apparently it didn’t work very well because not much amniotic fluid came out.

I was progressing, but not at the speed of light as I did with Kate. At 7:00, I asked the nurse for an ETA on the baby, and she said noon, which at the time seemed like a million years away. But I was feeling really good, and Andy and I were actually having quite a nice morning just hanging out and watching the Family Feud. At one point, I asked him if he wanted to play cards, but unfortunately neither of us had a deck on us. It seems weird to say we were having fun, but it’s true.

After a few hours, the nurse wasn’t satisfied with how the amneotic fluid was draining, so she sat me upright. This was the only time I was in any pain… something about how the epidural works due to gravity, I don’t understand the details. And really, sitting up straight with one’s legs out isn’t the most comfortable way for a prego to sit anyway. The nurse rearranged me so that I was laying on my side with one knee bent, and once again the pain disappeared.

Another mom across the hall from me was apparently progressing more quickly than I was, and something was going on there that was causing more concern among the doctor and nurses than I was, so we were a little “lightly staffed” for a while. That was fine, really, because I was doing quite well, but eventually I asked the nurse when I would be checked again. She said that it would be soon, but when I told her I was glad that it would be soon because I was feeling a lot of pressure, like the baby was ready to come out, so she put on her gloves and was like “Um, well there’s the baby’s head. Let me get the doctor.”

So, my doctor, a resident, a medical student, a couple nurses and a respiratory therapist all herded into the room (they declined when I asked them if there was anyone else they’d like to invite). The doctor showed everyone in attendance the baby’s head, and said we needed to wait for another contraction to come and I’d be able to push. The doc and I speculated that the baby was a girl and we talked about the possible names until it was time. The nurse gave us the signal when I had the next contraction, and I pushed until the count of 10, exhaled and did it again, and ta-da we had a baby. It was ridiculous how easy it was. No episiotomy (I kept my eye on the scissors, just waiting for that resident to grab them), no tearing, no stitches. One very healthy baby boy.

They laid the baby on my chest, and the doctor said “Is he a Samuel or a Benjamin?” and without hesitation, Andy said “He’s a Samuel.” I nursed him right away and he latched on like he knew what he was doing. It was great.

They did all the testing and cleaning up with him in my room, and didn’t whisk him off they way they had Kate, which was nice. His temperature was a little low, so they put him in a little cooker to warm him up for a while. Andy got on the phone and announced his arrival to our family, and before long a parade of visitors commenced.

My dad and Kate were the first to get there, and when they arrived I still had the IV and blood pressure cuff on, and I couldn’t get out of bed. Kate was a little nervous about that and wouldn’t come over to sit with me or anything. Instead, she sat on the couch next to Andy and whispered to him, “Daddy, I have a secret. I wanted it to be a brother.” Such a sweetheart.

Soon, I had enough feeling in my legs to get up, so the nurse helped me to the bathroom. She removed my IV, so I was able to go sit with Kate. She was very glad when she saw me without all the stuff in my arms.

The rest of the afternoon and evening passed as family members came to see Sam. Our hospital encourages rooming-in, so he stayed with us that night. None of us got much sleep! For starters, hospital beds are noisy! I woke Andy and Sam both every time I had to get in or out of bed.

The next morning, my doctor came to check on us and offered to send us home that afternoon. At first I wasn’t sure how I felt about leaving so soon, but after Andy and I talked it over, we decided to take her up on her offer. We had to wait on Sam’s bilirubin test and a multitude of other things to take place, but we left the hospital around 4:30 p.m. We were so excited to bring home our baby boy.

Everything has gone pretty well since then. I felt great from the start, and am really back to normal now, although my stamina is pretty low (although that could be due to sleep deprivation!). Kate is doing wonderfully with Sam, and we can’t believe how perfectly he fits in our family. He is an amazing little guy, and I am thrilled to be getting to know him. I know I did a lot of moaning and complaining about my pregnancy, but he was absolutely worth every minute of it.

Now if he would only sleep on something besides my chest…