Please Meet...

Benjamin Jack

Born Feb 5th, 2009

11:04 p.m.

7 lbs, 11.9 ounces

20 inches

The story:

I went to bed on the 4th feeling painful contractions, but thought nothing of it since I had been having painful contractions for a week.  I woke up the next morning to my water breaking, and felt nauseous with excitement. We drove to the hospital and I looked out the car window, somewhat disappointed there weren't crowds of people standing on the sides of the road, throwing streamers and cheering.  Where were the parades?

At the hospital, I checked in and changed into a hideous hospital gown, and they checked to see that my water really had broken.  Yep, they confirmed. No turning back now.  I was already dilated to 3 (and for those who don't know, you have to be to a 10 before baby gets here) and they said I could have an epidural shortly. 

I spent the next two hours having horribly painful contractions, the kind that make your whole body tense up and stop your breath short.  Finally the anesthesiologist arrived and put a needle in my back.  It was a minor stinging, and then... bliss.  The contractions were still there, but I couldn't feel the pain.  I am in love with the epidural man.  

For the next several hours, I had contractions and slept, and listened to some music.  I watched grudgingly as my sisters ate a chocolate shake with marshmallow.  I pouted, and sucked on my ice chips. 

They checked me every hour or so, and I was dilating fast.  They also pointed to the monitor and said that every time I had a contraction, my baby's heart rate dropped considerably.  "What does that mean?"  I asked. 

"It probably means there is a cord issue," the nurse said, "but we'll just keep an eye on things."

"What do you mean a cord issue... like a cord wrapped around his neck?"

"Yeah," the nurse said, "but things are looking good now.  If there is any worry, we can do a C-section."  My throat closed off, but I trusted them.  The nurse reassured me that they would keep an eye on things and that if needs be, they could get the baby out in 90 seconds flat.  She fitted me with an oxygen mask so that when the contractions came, the baby could breathe better.

Over the next couple hours, I breathed the oxygen and tried to relax.  There were terrifying moments when the baby's heart rate would drop so low that the nurse would rush into the room and start adjusting things on the monitors and checking me.  At about 10:00 p.m., they checked and expected me to be dilated to a 7.  "You are a 10!"  they said.

My mom, who was on the phone to her sister yelled, "Oh my hell, she's dilated to a 10!"  They had me start pushing every contraction and although I couldn't feel the pain, I could feel the stress and pressure of it, and I was sweating and gasping before long.  In between a few of the contractions, I whispered shakily, "I'm going to throw up," and promptly puked all over myself. One of the nurses grabbed a bowl and tried to catch some of it.  I didn't feel like apologizing.  

I pushed for 30 minutes, and then out he popped! "Cord wrapped around the neck," the doctor said, and quickly unwrapped it from his neck.  "TWICE," she said, and unwrapped it again. From there it was a rush, and they took him over to a little table where they rubbed down his body with a cloth to get some color into him. He shrieked like a banshee as they cleaned him up. 

Can't stop admiring him!  After 3 days in the hospital and many visits from family and friends, we came home.  He's been the most sweet and contented baby.  So contented, in fact, that sometimes I look at him suspiciously and think, "Why aren't you crying?  You are a baby, and babies cry!"  It's actually quite a blessing.  I have no idea what I'd do with myself if I had a colicky baby. He is 8 days old and it has been quite a treat learning how to care for him and myself.  I'm learning the joys of breast feeding (or in my case, the inability to and thus supplementing with a pump for the time being), poop and pee and his love of doing both once the diaper is OFF, and the darling little faces and noises he makes while he is sleeping. Once when he was smiling and cooing in his sleep, my mom said, "He is talking to the angels he just left!"  

"And when he makes sad faces?"  I asked her.

"They are telling him they can't stay with him for long. He's sad they'll be gone soon, and they are sad they have to leave him."  

That was about the sweetest thing I'd ever heard.