I hadn't felt any false labor or anything - it literally felt like he would never come out because nothing was changing. Dusty and I headed into my appointment 4 days after my due date and my doctor said the "wonderful" words: "Let's get you set up to be induced tomorrow." But, I had already packed my bag and brought it with and we were ready, and I mean rea-dy to go so I asked if she could check if they might be able to do it that day. Drumroll . . . They could! She actually told us to head over there after we checked out from her office.
We were finally doing it! I didn't even feel very nervous - I was so excited and felt like I had waited long enough. I was ready. Dusty . . . well, he might not have been as ready or as calm as I was, but he hid it pretty well. :) I knew going in that he was pretty nervous about how much pain I would be in, and he hates seeing me in the hospital anyway.
They got me all prepped and broke my water (not as unpleasant as I thought it would be) and started me on Pitocin to get contractions started. My mom had warned me about Pitocin because I think she had it with one of her six labors and said it was absolutely awful. It really wasn't bad at first - the first 20 minutes or so were totally doable. But, then the Pitocin must have really kicked in because my contractions started coming hard and fast - as in a minute apart. That might not sound too bad, but when you consider going from basically 0 to 10 in that short amount of time . . . Well, it was painful.
And poor Dusty. All those helpful tips and techniques we learned in our labor class? Totally useless. Nothing he tried was working. I love that he tried, but I had to politely tell him not to touch me because it was just distracting. So he just had to stand there feeling relatively helpless. I think I lasted for about an hour and a half and we decided to get an epidural. I kind of felt like I was copping out, but once I had the epidural I really didn't care. It made a world of difference. So I got to relax . . .
But, shortly after that they noticed the baby's heart rate kept dropping during contractions. That's fairly normal, but usually it'll come back up between contractions. Mine were coming so hard and close together that his heart rate wasn't getting back up to where it should be. The doctor (not my usual one) and nurse were conversing and then all of a sudden said "We need to do a C-section. If this was your second baby we might let you go because you're 8 1/2 cm, but since it's your first it could still be a couple hours and we can't wait that long." WHAT?! A C-section? That was not part of my birth plan. Hadn't even considered it. And I remember feeling slightly annoyed with the doctor for not including us in her conversation with the nurse before dropping that bomb on us.
Dusty ran out to call our parents while I was being prepped, and probably 5 minutes later I was being wheeled into surgery. It was surreal. The room was full of people, but I felt alone. Dusty couldn't come in until they were ready to start surgery. Everyone was very polite, it was just extremely nerve-racking. I had the best anesthesiologist; he kept asking if I was okay - noticed immediately that I was really shaky and asked if I'd like something to calm my nerves. Yes, please!
Finally, Dusty was by my side, or head I guess since I was laying down, and . . .
SCREAMING BABY . . . BOY! We were a little bit shocked I think. First of all, I thought it would take longer to do the surgery, and secondly I had thought all along that it was probably a girl so it was an amazing feeling to be completely taken by surprise. And there he was - they held him up to my face for an oh-so-brief instant and then took him away to get cleaned off. I specifically remember some of the nurses laughing because he kept screaming. I, on the other hand, was actually a little nervous because he just wasn't stopping. I thought, "What if he just cries all the time? What are we going to do?" But, then they took him out with Dusty to the recovery room while I was being stitched up. He must've stopped crying during that time because by the time I got to recovery, he was calm - thank goodness!
We did it! We successfully had a beautiful baby boy, and once I got to the recovery room we decided to name him Asher, which means "blessed, happy," because that's exactly how we felt.
Our little peanut.
Happy, ecstatic, Mama
PROUD Papa - I still can't get over how tiny Asher looks here.
Asher Dustin Reese, born August 27, 2009 at 4:18 p.m. He weighed 7 lbs 13 oz,
and was 21 3/4 inches long.
Thanks for reading this rather long post, and stay tuned for part 3 - the aftermath . . . bum-bum-BUM! (That's supposed to be like the music you hear in movies right before something crazy happens.)