Om Namah Shivaya


Saturday, September 22, 2012

May we introduce our love...

James Porter LeRoy Stout was born Friday, Sept. 21st, at 3:38pm.  He weighed 8lbs 8oz, and is 21" long.  

Here is our story...

Thursday afternoon at a *very* pregnant 39weeks, 5 days, I went to my regular doctor's appointment hoping for some progress in the dilation department, only to find there was none.  So, the resident who checked me offered to "Sweep my membranes", which if you don't know, means to separate the cervix from the amniotic sac, this can sometimes kick-start labor, and I thought, "Sure what can it hurt?"

So she did.

Later that evening I started having the "crampiness" that comes with having that procedure done, but didn't think anything off it seeing as it was nothing time-able or breath-taking, so I went about my business and prepared myself to go to work in the morning.  I went to bed that night thinking too myself "Damnit, I'm going to wake up pregnant tomorrow" but also thinking that I had reached my goal of finishing out my entire pregnancy and working the entire time at school, and was pretty proud of myself.  Little did I know that JP was gearing up to let me know he was ready to come out and greet the world.

At 1:30 Friday morning, I was woken up by Buck for our regular get up and pee time.  For the past week or so I had been waking up at that time having incredible pressure before and after using the restroom.  I'd usually shift around in bed for a bit and then fall back asleep afterwards, no big deal.  This time the pressure came back after about 20minutes...then around 215am, the pressure started coming back every 10minutes...and I thought "Hmmmm...that's interesting".  So about 3am I finally couldn't handle laying down anymore and decided to get up, have some coffee, and walk around to figure out what was happening.  I mean, I've never done this this it?  Is this just false labor or unbearable gas? *laugh*  All I know is that at 3am the pressure started coming 5-6 minutes apart and by the time I called the after hours doctor's number at 3:45 or so, they were anywhere from 4-6 minutes apart.

I was in labor, and I knew it.

So I talked with the doctor and after asking me how far apart the contractions were, she asked me how far along I was.  My reply "He's due tomorrow" brought about an "Oh!  Well then, yes you need to come in.  You're in labor!" 

So up the stairs I went, stopping every now and then to let some "Owie, owie, owie, owie!"'s out, and deep breath a bit.  I made it too the bedroom and shook Tim awake.  "Peter, this is *not* a drill".  "Huh? What?!" as he sat straight up from a deep sleep.  "This is not a drill honey, we need to go to the hospital, I'm in labor."

And away we went. 

We arrived about 5am and got checked in.  At this point I had been experiencing pretty darn intense contractions for 3 and a half hours.  I can honestly say, now, that I'd had *plenty* of time with those mothertruckers and was MORE than ready for that blessed epidural.  More than ready...but alas we still had some time to wait in triage to be assessed & whatnot.  Tim was amazing during that time.  I vaguely remember him brushing my forehead & kissing my hand as I gripped the railing of the bed as a contraction ripped through me and left me breathless, exhausted & wanting to puke from the pain.  Then he figured out how to read the contractions waves on the monitor & would talk me through each one telling me when the worst was over then squeezing my hand and whispering "You're doing good babe, you're doing good".  

Finally at 715am we were admitted, we met our two nurses (who were *ah-may-zing!* by the way), and then were taken up too a birthing room but I barely remember the ride as I rode out wave after wave of contraction, gripping the rails of the bed the entire time.  They got me in bed & hooked me up too the monitors for contractions & JP's heartbeat.  That sound was one of the only things I was able to focus on for the next few hours as I progressed through more contractions anxiously awaiting the arrival of the magic men with the magic drug.  Contractions are absolutely NO fun at all and I give *major* props to ALL of the women out there who do the entire labor & delivery drug free.  I bow in humbleness to your womanly prowress.  7 & 1/2 hours of contractions was MORE than enough for me.  Hell, who am I kidding; the first *hour* was enough. *sheepish laughter*

Finally the magic man arrived, explained everything and I remember in the midst of a "puker" contraction as I was squeezing Tim's fingers so hard I was afraid I was hurting him telling the magic man that "I just don't care about that I just want the drugs please!" (at least I said please ;)  He chuckled, explained the rest, had me sign, then called his attending to get the ball rolling.  A short while later & one almost passed out Tim (thanks again Marcia for taking care of him and thanks to Amber & Jordan for talking me through the epidural procedure & the 4 mind-blowing contractions during it), I was pain free, coherent, able too open my eyes, and smile for the first time since I woke up that morning.

Thank you magic-men...

From there on out, everything progressed in a fairly normal manner for a FTM in labor.  I progressed from a 3 to a 5 fairly quickly, then they broke my water to help things along cause I had stalled for a while.  We both napped for a bit after that, then after checking me again, they decided to start a pitocin drip to help my contractions pick up & therefore my progress to stop stalling.  Then the first scary moment.  JP didn't like that pitocin at all.  As Marcia said too me, "He's not enjoying being squeezed so frequently and is letting us know with his heartbeat, but don't worry he's just fine."  This was after what seemed like a hundred people swooped into the room & started flipping me from one position to the other, then leaving me on hands & knees with my head down for 5 minutes.  Marcia was my angel as I kneeled there, scared & crying cause I thought something terrible had happened.  After 5 minutes, everything was fine.  I was fine, JP was fine, and I had progressed to an 8.

So we relaxed & visited with family & my bestie, Mischa.  *So* stinkin' glad she was there, she entertained Tim and calmed me down.  I can't imagine my life without my bestest friend of some 19 years < 3 ya girl. 

They came back in to check me & I was complete & ready to go but then JP decided to scare us all again & drop his heartbeat again.  "This side! That side! Hands & knees!" oof it was scary but also incredibly frustrating because not only was I hooked up with so many wires that I was getting tangled, but I couldn't really move my left leg without assistance & there was one nurse in particular who wasn't very nice but hey, I survived, and so did he.

At this point, the delivering doctor (not one of my OB's) was convinced I wasn't going to be able to deliver JP the "natural" way.  She was convinced he was over 9lbs with really huge shoulders and she didn't feel comfortable using forceps or a vacuum in getting him out so we may be looking at a c-section.  At that point, on my hands and knees, I didn't care, I just wanted him to be okay.  Then Marcia was there whispering to me that everything was okay and he'd be coming out the natural way.  God bless her.
They flipped me too my right side & the delivering doctor was back to talk too me again.  Sheassured me everything was fine for the moment & that she had called in Dr. Lee, one of my OB's too assess me, the "situation" and assist if needed.  So in strolled Dr. Lee and he assessed me, JP, and the sitch.  His response?  "Emily, you're going to be just fine, you can do this."  And so I did.  The charge nurse wanted to do "just a couple practice pushes" to help not only JP descend just a little lower but to make sure I was pushing correctly, and I did so well with those that we just kept going!  45 exhausting minutes later with Amber & Marcia at my legs and Tim holding me up from the shoulders, our son emerged into this world, happy, healthy & none the worse for wear *except* for  a bit of a cone-head that I take *full* responsibility for.  It took me a while to get that big ol' thing out! *laugh* 

He was born at 3:38pm on Sept. 21st, one day shy of his full term due date.  He weighed 8lbs 8oz at birth and is 21" long.  He is perfect, and we are perfectly in love with him.  I can't wait to get him home and start living our new reality every single day.  Welcome to the world JP, welcome too the world < 3 

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