Liam Edward Charles arrived 9 September, after 18 hours of labor (two of which were spent pushing-- I've never worked so hard for anything in my life). He weighed 8 lbs and measured 21 inches in length, and was absolutely perfect. Still is :)
Liam's due date was the 8th, and when I went for my checkup the week before I was told that if he didn't arrive by then that they wanted to induce me... on 11 September. I was adamantly opposed to it for a variety of reasons, but when I spoke with my regular doctor on the 8th she addressed all of my concerns and convinced me that it was the right thing to do. Of course, after all of that agonizing over what to do, my water broke at 3:30 am on the 9th. I'd been awake since 3:00 with contractions, but thought that they were just Braxton-Hicks, which I'd been having on and off for several months. Once my water broke, though, the contractions quickly became intense. I woke Chris around 4:00 and we got ready to go to the hospital. By the time we left, my contractions were lasting around 3 minutes and were 1 and 1/2 minutes apart. Yes. I thought that Liam might be born in the car, taking after his Grandpa Charles.
Once we arrived at the hospital, nothing went as I'd imagined. Actually, nothing had gone as I'd hoped/imagined from the minute I woke up at 3 am. What was SUPPOSED to happen was this: I'd go into labor. Chris and I would call my parents so they could begin driving from South Carolina, and then we'd hang out at home during the first part of labor. When my contractions were 5 minutes apart we'd calmly drive to the hospital where I would walk on my own power to the Labor and Delivery ward. The pain would be increasing but I'd breathe through it and, because it was building gradually, I'd have had time to get used to it. It would hurt, but I Would Be Strong and Confident in the knowledge that my body was designed to do this. And, I figured if that failed, I would politely request an epidural ;)
So, here's what actually happened: Chris had to practically force me into the car, as I dropped to my hands and knees on our front porch when a contraction hit. The pain was so intense I couldn't think beyond it, though I do remember that at that moment and at others throughout the evening (before I got the epidural), that I was calling loudly upon our Savior, as in "JESUS, JESUS, JEE-SUUUS!" When we got in the car, Chris drove like a man with demons after him (or a man afraid his wife would give birth in the car) and, when we finally got to the hospital, announced that he was making an executive decision and that we'd be going in the Emergency entrance. I was in no condition to protest-- nor did I want to, at that point-- so I made an inglorious entrance into the L&D ward in a wheelchair.
I tried to keep it together, I really did. I answered questions somewhat politely (though we'd pre-registered online, and I'm wondering what the point of that exercise was, if there were still more questions to be answered) and sat there trying to hold it together. That lasted until the next contraction hit. At that point I was out of the wheelchair and on the floor on my hands and knees, trying to breathe through the pain. At that point one of the nurses said, "Why don't we get you into a room now?", and I, wild-eyed and frothing at the mouth, snarled, "I'm. Not Moving. GRRRRAAAAAAARRRR!!!!!".
I stayed that way for about 10 minutes, with nurses trying to coax me off the floor and into the wheelchair, and me alternately ignoring and bellowing at them. Finally I persuaded myself to move, got into the room and got on my hands and knees in the bed. I heard one of the nurses say, "I've never seen anything like this" (Note: I find this difficult to believe). At one horrible point, a nurse tried to do a pelvic exam and I screamed bloody murder. Pelvic exams are never easy for me and on top of the other pain it was just all too much. In between contractions, I kept apologizing for my behavior, and these Jekyl and Hyde moments continued until I got the epidural.
Ahhh, the epidural. The on-call physician came by, pronounced me dilated to 5 cm, and said that I could have the epidural. Eventually the anaesthesiologist appeared and began explaining, step by step, what she was going to do. Normally this is EXACTLY the sort of professionalism that I want from my doctors, but in that instance all I could think was, "Shut up, shut UP! JUST GET IT IN THERE!!" I'm very happy about the fact that I didn't say any of that out loud.
Blessedly, the epidural quickly took hold and I was able to return to sanity and to my normal wisecracking, friendly persona (I think that's a fair description), leaving behind the pain-induced raving monster I'd become. I was incredibly tired and kept drifting off, talking to Chris in between sleeping.
My parents got to the hospital and I was so glad to see them. It meant a lot to me that they were there (and I was really glad that they hadn't seen me acting like a wild animal-- how embarrassing), and that we got to spend that time together.
Labor dragged on (not that I cared, since I wasn't in pain), and the on-call doctor was replaced... by the one member of the practice that I'd never seen whilst rotating through. Of course. As it turned out, I was really grateful that he was the one to deliver Liam because he had no problem with the slow pace of things (plus, we have a similar sense of humor, which is always nice). I had really been worried that I'd be pressured into a C-section due to a slow labor, but he was totally fine with letting things happen on their own schedule. Eventually, though, I did agree to Pitocin, as I'd been stuck at 8cm for a long time. This helped to speed things up... then I got stuck at 9cm, at which point the nurses moved the bed into the "throne" position in the hopes that gravity would help. Which it did.
Time out: I can't say enough glowing things about the nurses. They were absolutely amazing, very professional and possessed true caring spirits. They kept me clean and comfortable with no hint of distaste, and were genuinely interested in mine and Liam's health and well-being. I am incredibly grateful to them.
Finally it was time to push and my parents went to wait elsewhere, leaving the doctor, one nurse, Chris, and myself to get on with it. Poor Chris. He never wanted to be in the delivery room in the first place, but I'd assured him that there would be a drape and that he wouldn't see a thing. Errr.... Well, all I can say is that, in my own defense, I sincerely believed that to be true. But it wasn't. True, that is. Let's just say that the nurse had one leg, Chris had the other and that both had front row seats for the whole show. Yes, Chris saw all of the bleeding, the crowning, and then Liam actually being born. Oh, and he was absolutely amazing. During the contractions, he kept up a stream of encouragement while I pushed for all that I was worth, and in between he fed me ice chips and put the oxygen mask on me. Truly, I couldn't have asked for a better labor partner.
As I said, I've never worked harder for anything in my life. Afterwards the doctor told me that he hadn't thought that I'd be able to do it physically, given that Liam was a bigger baby and that my innards are kind of small. But, he said, he'd seen that I was determined to do it and he wanted to give me every chance. He did, and I am so grateful that I didn't have a C- section. Of course, what I'm most grateful for is that Liam is here and healthy.
There are truly no words to describe what I felt the moment that they put him, cord still connecting us, on my chest. All I know is that
before that moment I'd never felt or imagined anything like it, and
from that moment I knew I'd never NOT feel that way, this overwhelming love that feels too big for my body.
Even when I'm changing some truly disgusting diapers and getting peed on :)
