Details (and way too many of them)

This may be in installations, since my life has been taken over by every-two-hour feedings (or, more specifically, every-two-hour attempts to wake him up so I CAN feed him).

And now, the story of how Seth decided to grace us with his presence 10 days early:

Surprise, Surprise

Friday (the 11th) I woke up and generally didn't feel well. All I wanted to do was lay in bed and read--and so I did. I made it through Othello, A Midsummer Night's Dream and a few other plays in between various napping sessions (I'm a total nerd, I know).

When Jon got home we decided to finally try out the neighborhood pool. I started noticing some cramping while we were there, but ignored it since it's happened several times before. After dinner I still wasn't feeling too hot, so I spent the next 177 minutes in the basement watching Braveheart (Cleanflicks, thank you very much). Such a good movie.

Around 7 pm (mid-movie) I noticed that the cramping wasn't going away. By 9 pm I started paying attention to the clock and realized that they were coming every 5 minutes and lasting for about 30 seconds. I still didn't believe this was actually happening--I didn't even tell Jon until he noticed that I was grimacing fairly frequently.

Jon was hoping to get a few hours of sleep before we left (he gets up at 5:25 am), but no such luck. I called my doctor and he said to come on in. So at midnight we collected all our stuff (minus the pillows that we forgot) and headed to the hospital. Side note: my doctor later told me that after talking to me he'd turned to the nurse and said, "I bet you 5 million dollars she's just going back home tonight." Apparently I sounded much too calm for a girl in labor.

Judgment Day

It must have been a pretty slow night at the hospital--they were really efficient at getting me all hooked up and monitored. After about a half-hour of monitoring, they informed me that yes, I was having contractions (like I didn't know) and that I was dilated to a 3. I was pretty thrilled with myself, thinking that they wouldn't send me home if I was at a 3. I was totally dismayed when the nurse informed me that the doctor wanted me to walk around for an hour, and if I didn't make any progress, they would send me home.

So we walked. I'm pretty sure Jon was actually sleepwalking for most of the time. Poor guy. I, on the other hand, was pretty ticked off. The contractions were getting a bit painful at that point, and I was not happy with the idea of going home and toughing it out.

Lucky for me, the hour of walking got me to a 4. We were officially in!

The Infamous Epidural

I have to admit--for a few short weeks I was contemplating trying to avoid having an epidural. My friend Mindy did it, and my mom never got one (although she really, really wanted one). When the nurse asked the first time if I wanted one I was hesitant, but by the time she asked again I was all for it.

I was expecting it to hurt when they jabbed the thing in my back, but it was almost painless. Except for the contractions that were coming right along, that is. I'd like to see the anesthesiologist sit perfectly still when it feels like someone is crushing HIS pelvis. Funny observation--both the anesthesiologist and my OBGYN are men. Everyone else I saw while I was there (and there were many of them) were women. Guess who were the only two people who tried to talk to me while I was having a contraction? Did they really think I was actually listening to them, much less that I was going to respond?

They gave me the epidural around 3:30 am and I had an hour and a half of relative bliss. I still felt the pressure of the contractions, but not the pain. Until around 5 am. Then I felt the pain. A lot. The anesthesiologist gave me the biggest dose of the best stuff he could, but it did nothing but turn my legs into stone. Apparently the baby had shifted into some lovely position where he would put intense pressure on my back and pelvis with each contraction. So I wasn't actually feeling the contractions, thanks to the epidural, but the medicine could do nothing for the pressure.

It was at that point that I decided we were not having any more children. Ever. I also decided that Mindy is my hero--no way I would voluntarily be feeling any of this. For the first hour I was seething mad that I actually got the epidural and was still in pain. The second hour was bad news--lots of tears and uncontrollable shaking. I made Jon give me another blessing at this point because I was sure I would never make it through this. From 7 to 8 am I was so exhausted that I slept--for as long as I could between contractions. Which was only a minute or two. Poor Jon--it had to have been so frustrating to watch me and not be able to do anything about it.

Around 8:30 am they brought in the next anesthesiologist, who proceeded to do EXACTLY what the first one had done. Except this time IT WORKED! The baby must have shifted or something, but I didn't feel a dang thing from that point on. I was so happy to be pain free that I was almost giddy.

Delivery Time!

At 9 am they announced that I was fully dilated, which thrilled me to pieces. The nurses were convinced I would have him out in record time since he was already so far down. No such luck--he was perfectly content to stay where he was. With lots of cheerleading from the two nurses (both named Judy), I made it through an hour and a half of pushing before Seth graced us with his presence.

I don't know if it was pregnancy hormones, pure relief, or what, but as soon as I heard his first little cry I burst into tears (happy tears, don't worry). I was just so glad that he was here and everything was okay. Jon looked so happy--he even cut the cord despite having informed me earlier that he wasn't going to.

Seth was so good natured--he cried for a few minutes right at first and then not at all (not even when they gave him a shot). Even the nurses were impressed with how mellow he was the entire time we were there. Now we're just praying he stays that way--no colic, please!

Recovery

After they stitched me up and gave Seth his bath I figured we could all just relax. I learned quickly that there is no relaxing in the hospital. For example, I had just gotten Seth to sleep at 1 am, when exactly 19 minutes later a nurse walked in to take his vitals and woke him right back up. And then came again at 5 am, not to mention the other random people who kept coming in to pester me or him. Thus, we decided that 24 hours of hospital was enough.

Driving away from the hospital with Seth was a weird feeling--knowing that everything is different now. It will never be just me and Jon again. Yes, this still makes me a little sad, but he's worth it. And I love watching Jon be a dad--I honestly could not have made it through without him. He's got way more baby care skills than I do.

I'll post later about the first few days home, but let's just say things are really quiet around here. Since he came early my mom wasn't able to be here (she flies in the 21st), so it's just me and Jon. Which in some ways has been really nice (more later). Our only two visitors have been Joyce and her daughter Anna who came to the hospital and brought us delicious (and soon to be dreaded) chocolate chip cookies. One complaint, though: I was sort of counting on at least a couple of meals from the ward to tide us over until my mom got here, but no such luck. I'm actually kind of ticked off because now we're having to eat all the food I froze for Jon to eat later when I'm still not up for cooking. I know I probably shouldn't assume anything, but I feel like we were sort of forgotten. And I wish there was someone I could tell off, but I don't know who. Instead I'll just glare at the RS Presidency when I make it back to church in a few weeks. That'll teach them.

All complaining aside, things are going really well. We're happy and getting a pretty decent amount of sleep. Sorry for the lack of pictures--we exhausted those with the last post. And now for a speedy shower before it's feeding time again...