As Promised

There are a lot more sunshine and rainbows in this post as well as an overload of pictures, because I am pregnant no more, and baby is here! (Also, this post contains birthing talk, so be warned)

I enlisted practically everyone I came across to pray that our little baby would come on its own before the scheduled Tuesday induction. Not only did I want a labor of speed, I was thinking it quite ridiculous that after giving birth to three children, I still didn't know that feeling of going into labor.  And with no really good reason  not to this time around, I thought it wasn't too much to ask. I also doubted my ability to forgo the epidural with an induced labor. Not that I have anything against epidurals, mind you.  I just really enjoyed my recovery so much more last time without it.

But as scratched every self inducing labor trick off the list and Monday night's contractions faded into oblivion, so did my hopes of a spontaneous labor. I set my sights on the morning, just excited that the end was around the corner.

And all the prayers might not have brought labor, but they certainly brought the speed. The pitocin started at 8:30am and I was 3cm.  The contractions came as expected, and I breathed and relaxed my way through them.  In the back of my mind, I wasn't sure if I would see it the whole way through without the epidural and had, days before, decided to play it by ear.

Just an hour later I was 5cm.  And two hours later I was an 8.  Transition was coming fast I could tell, and at pretty much the last minute I begged for the epidural.

And I am so glad I did.

Between contractions the anesthesiologist worked quickly and the whole thing was a blur.  But he proceeded to give me the best epidural ever, and it was going to pay off in a big way. I could still feel the contractions, I could still feel my toes, and I could still feel a tiny bit of pain, but it was so blunted.

Three contractions later I was a 9. And that was about 12:00pm.  I needed to make it to 12:30pm in order to get in enough antibiotics because I was Group B positive.

 When it was time to push, I could still feel each contraction and I hoped to keep it short and sweet and have that baby out in no time. But unbeknownst to any of us, he was posterior, which made the angle he was trying to escape, nearly impossible. And as much as I pushed, and pushed, and pushed some more, he made no forward progression.  As he was stuck there, and I could feel it even despite being mostly numb, I was silently celebrating that epidural.  I would have been freaking, freaking out otherwise.  

His little heartbeat stopped for about 10 of the longest seconds of my life.  Right after, the doctor realized his position, gave me a nice little snip (again, thank you, epidural!), slipped her fingers in and popped him right out.

And it was precisely, 12:30pm.  He was a boy, as I had suspected. He was beautiful. He tipped the scales at 7lbs. even and was 19 inches long.  And had a sweet little birth mark on his shoulder.

My Mom and Dad, as well as Dan of course, got to be there.  And in complete serendipity, my brother Ian was flying into town for business, and spent his three hour window of freedom in my hospital room holding the baby.

It turned out that the baby still needed another dose of antibiotics.  And then due to our differing blood types, he was Coomb's positive, which resulted in his being jaundiced and needing phototherapy.  I had heard of and seen babies being put under lights, but our little buddy got this fancy blanket.

He stayed wrapped in it, day and night.  And luckily, by the afternoon of the second day, we got the all clear to go home.  A follow up appointment, revealed that his bilirubin levels had tapered off enough that we would not need to continue the light therapy at home.

The kids love him.  They are so excited (especially Ava) and so sweet with him.  We are ferocious handwashers here, hoping to stave off the repetition of any part of February and our bad health luck.

I am so happy not to be pregnant anymore.  And even though I feel like this poor gal,

with my shell busted right open, the resulting peanut is making it all worth it.