Labor day

My doctor knew an early birth was in the works. Any day now, she said, the baby would be born. She was right. I was due November 13th but my baby had other plans.

On Thursday, I just finished eating lunch and I went into the kitchen to wash out my glass. Suddenly, my water started leaking out! EEK! I made a beeline for the bathroom and, yup, sure enough, it was DEFINITELY my water leaking. I emailed hubby and he said "call your doctor." So I called the doctor and they told me to go to the ER BUUUT not to drive myself there. I was all by myself so I emailed hubby again and told him what they said. He got off work, picked our daughter up from school (I'd already informed the school we might have to take her out early because of the pending birth) and came home to drive me to the hospital. At this point, I was near tears because my pants were soaked. (Good thing they were icky maternity pants that I never plan to wear again!) I didn't like being so wet in my clothes. Didn't! Like it! >:( So hubby grabbed a towel to put on the seat of the car and we got EVERYTHING together (hospital bag plus a bag for Jen) and headed to the hospital. Good thing they told me not to drive because on the way, contractions started up and I was wincing every time the car turned when we got there. He wheeled me inside then took Jennifer with him to go park the car. I was taken to Labor and Delivery, into a room and they had me change into a gown and get into a bed. My ASL interpreter had been called ahead and she met me there. The room was NICE -- it even had a couch! They strapped a heart monitor around my stomach and something to monitor contractions and not too much longer afterwards, my water officially broke and the contractions became stronger.

The doctor on call came in to talk to me about an epidural. I knew I wanted one but wasn't sure if I would end up getting it too early. He assured me that wouldn't happen. It wouldn't "wear off" like I thought it would because it was like a pump. About 10 minutes later, I told him, "OK, let's do that now."

But before they could do that now, they had to put an IV in first. No problem, I thought. Just a one-time sting and that's that.

Riiiight.

My veins ended up NOT cooperating. Every time they stuck a needle in, my vein popped! (So weird....) I was writhing in pain as they tried one area of my arm AND hand after another. (This isn't the first time this has happened. On one occasion I was in the hospital having reconstructive surgery, the doctors couldn't get a good vein on my arm and spent 10 minutes or so poking ALL OVER my foot and leg. Yeah, I was pretty much screaming in pain while the nurses held me down. And let us NOT forget, boys and girls, the 15 shots into my spine I once had for a spinal tap. Ugh. WHY??!!!) Finally, they called someone else in. She had the idea of numbing my hand, that maybe it would help them get a better vein. So she numbed it (not TOO much) and, on the VERY first try, they successfully put the IV in. It didn't hurt AT ALL. I told her, "Next time, I want some more of that numbing stuff!" Heh-heh.

But since the IV was in my hand, I was concerned about being able to fingerspell to hubby. (He is also a non-aid-wearing deafie.) (You know, they should make an acronym for that!) We DO talk to each other and use lip-reading, but sometimes we DO have to sign or fingerspell. So the nurse asked me to try fingerspelling her name. "What's your name?" I asked. She fingerspelled E-R-I-N. I was able to do that okay so no worries there.

Next they wheeled a funny looking metal thingy in that looked like one of those thingies they have at spas for people to get into a position for a back rub. The anesthethiologist administering the epidural introduced herself and explained the procedure, as well as answering my other questions. (You can tell it's the first time I've ever had one!) The nurse monitored the baby's heartbeat and helped me get into position. At this point, the interpreter, hubby and Jennifer were out in the hall. Jennifer is PHOBIC around shots and I didn't want her to see that. When the anesthethiologist looked at my back, she had some concerns. I have third degree burn scars on my back (from the accident) and she wasn't sure if it would work. But she did some more examining of the damaged skin on my back (it covers my whole back) and said she thought it would be fine. So my back was washed down and the needle was inserted into my spine. I SCREAMED! I didn't expect THAT kind of reaction but, boy oh boy, did that HURT!! But the pain soon went away and I felt weird with my legs all tingling and getting numb. I could feel the medication being injected and that felt strange, too. She covered my back with a tape and I was allowed to lie back down in bed.

I can only say one thing about the epidural: God bless whoever invented it!! The contraction pain was long gone, but it sure as heck felt weird when there was a pressure-feeling every time they happened (they were happening A LOT!!). Having my legs all numb was a weird feeling, too. The nurses would occasionally check to see how much my cervix was dilated and they would have to move my legs themselves to do it. Finally, there came the announcement: "It's time to push!"

Jennifer was not in the room for this. The interpreter volunteered to watch her for us in the hallway. I'd talked with hubby about this. Of course, the birth of her little brother is a special moment, but I was concerned the sight of all the blood and me trying to push him out might scare her. So we agreed she would not be in the room for this.

When I'd given birth to my daughter, I didn't have an epidural. But pushing her was HARD. Whether or not you get an epidural, the pushing is ALWAYS hard. I couldn't "feel" the baby to push him out, so I focused on using my muscles to push. This was NOT easy! At first I thought the epidural made it harder for me to focus on that, but I knew it was just 100% mind over matter. Still, I was pushing so hard, it felt like my brain would explode!!

Then I noticed that when the nurse told me to breathe, she breathed differently than I did. She illustrated to push on the exhale, not on the inhale. So I changed my breathing to copy hers and this helped A LOT! Still, the pushing was REALLY HARD and soon there was bad pain down there, too. In between yelling "ow!" and grunting for air, I was pushing like crazy! But even as I pushed, I kept thinking, "I can't do it! I can't!" His head was just too big! They told me his head was on the pelvic bone and I tensed, remembering how this one woman giving birth had her pelvic bone broken in the process. I kept saying "I'm afraid I'll break" and the doctor kept assuring me I won't "break." I wanted to start crying and saying "I can't do it!" but I knew I couldn't say that. I couldn't THINK that. I HAD to do it! I had to get this baby out of me!

So I kept pushing and pushing. They put this metal thing at the side of the bed for me to grab onto when I pushed and that plus them holding my legs helped, too. As I pushed, I also looked at the clock. I wondered if the baby would be born at the same time Jennifer was. Well, Jennifer was born at 8:58 P.M. and it wasn't even 8:00 yet. So, I kinda hoped it WASN'T going to happen at the same time. I hoped it would be sooner! Even at 8!

Finally, after 40 minutes of strenuous, exhaustive pushing, the baby's head came out. I tried to push more but the doctor did most of the work, pulling the rest of him out. That hurt but I instead focused on the feeling of his little body leaving mine. (Yes, even with epidural, I could FEEL that!) The doctor got him out and put him on my stomach. That tiny, shivering purplish baby on my tummy was MY NEWBORN SON!! Relief swam over me, mixed with exhaustion, as I stared at my beautiful little boy. Tears came into my eyes and everyone started giving me hugs. I was SOO HAPPY!! All of that hard work, all of it, had been worth it. My son had finally been born. Words cannot even BEGIN to describe how happy I was. It was such a magical moment!!

Hubby and I had not decided on a name EXACTLY. It was either Jesse (his choice) or Ryan (my choice). The minute I looked down at my baby, I knew which name to give him. It struck me just like that: Jesse. He LOOKED like a Jesse, so on October 25, 2007, at 8:06 P.M., an 8 pound, 7 ounce and 21-inch-long Jesse Taylor Wilson was born.