Usually, I love being right. I have learned it's not always a good thing. What I was right about was that our little bundle of joy did not make his appearance before Wednesday (my induction date)...he didn't even make his appearance ON Wednesday. It was very early Thursday morning that Grant Jay Williams was born at 1:39 weighing 7 pounds 6 ounces and was 21 inches long. And he is even more perfect that I thought he would be :)
Husband and I got to Rex about 7:15 a.m. - both of us acting brave but scared out of our minds. After an extended stay in the waiting room that I attribute to being a little late for our "appointment" they got me settled into a labor & delivery room about 9:00. My prenatal nurse (who was wonderful, by the way) started my pitocin drip about 30 minutes later and it was right about 10:00 that I went into labor. I felt what seemed like a mild cramp and she was looking at the monitor saying "You're having a contraction, do you feel it?" Huh. That wasn't so bad. I actually said that out loud. A statement that, less than two hours later, I sorely regretted. They didn't stay that way for long. I will skip the gory details and just say that after 5 hours of labor and I don't know how many episodes of "Everybody Loves Raymond" and "Yes Dear" I finally asked for the epidural. The nurse would ask me every time she came in to rate my pain on a 1 to 10 scale (5 being the point at which we would usually go to the hospital) and I was surprised by my reluctance to admit to being at a 5. I guess everybody wants to be a hero. So around 3:00 it was epidural time. And DAMN that is some good stuff! I didn't feel a THING for HOURS! I was having contractions that should have brought me to my knees and I just laid there eating a popsicle - which, by the way, when you're starving can taste like a perfectly cooked steak. So things were rather uneventful for the next several hours (if you don't count the two hours when they had me on oxygen because the baby didn't like labor - uh hello! It wasn't a party for me either!). I had a visit from the only other non-medical person I was going to allow to see me like that...Elizabeth! She stayed for a few hours and for the life of me I can not remember what we talked about it. The only conversation I really remember is when my doctor came in (my male doctor) and we all talked about TV shows...he really likes Grey's Anatomy only he says his job isn't really like that because they don't have that much sex in the hospital. Ha!
So, after Elizabeth left the doctor came in to check my progress and - Holy Crap! - I was at 9 cm and it was looking like it wasn't going to be long. I think that was around 10:00 p.m. At 11:45 I was checked again and told it was "time". All the equipment was brought in and I was torn between being scared and being really excited. Excited didn't last long. It was 12:00 exactly when I pushed for the first time and it was at least and hour before I felt like I was doing anything signifigant. The doctor came in for the grand finale a little after 1:00 a.m. By that time a marching band could have come through with some parade floats and I wouldn't have cared. Especially if the people on the floats were throwing candy. That's always the best part of parades. Anyway, as I'm laying there between contractions it occured to me that in my preparations for the hospital not only did I paint my toenails but I also shaved my legs. For that. Funny how my mind works in times of torture. So, with a final push at 1:39 Husband and I had a little baby boy!
I have to mention how wonderful Husband was through this whole process. He was very nervous, of course, but so helpful. It was a pretty gross situation for him to be in with me. As long as we've been together he's never seen THAT much. But he held my hand - and at one point my left leg - through everything and was constantly making sure I had what I needed. Whether it was water, chapstick, or being there to wipe sweat off my face. I think he even checked my catheder bag a couple times...that's love right there!