On Saturday, August 24, we had a scheduled induction. Our baby boy was seven days late and we were ready to meet him! We checked into the hospital and I got into bed. I was there about 3 hours before they started giving me pitocin, but I started having contractions as soon as I was in bed. I probably would have gone into labor that night if I hadn't been induced.
So so swollen in the face, but not that big in the belly!
The anesthesiologist was great - probably the best medical professional we dealt with. While he was giving me the epidural, I was squeeeeezing Conrad's hand so hard (from fear, not pain) that his wedding ring created a tourniquet around his finger and cut off circulation for a minute. Once the epidural was finished, they laid me down and the contraction pain was gone even though I could still feel some pressure. The longer I had the epidural, the less I could feel.
I laid in bed with the epidural all night. Everyone says "I even got to nap once I got the epidural!" Not me. I was so excited and the nurses were coming in ever hour so I didn't sleep a wink. Conrad, on the other hand...
So full of IV fluids!
The doctor came in and told me we'd give it another hour or two to see if I dilated, but we'd need to prepare ourselves for the possibility of a Cesarean section. I got really scared. No sleep plus an unexpected twist equaled a meltdown. I cried to Conrad, and my family, who was staying at our house, came back to the hospital. Them being there really cheered me up, and my mom, who had two c-sections, made me feel much calmer about it.
After a couple hours, I hadn't dilated any more so the doctors prepared for surgery. Everything after this point happened so fast, and I was so heavily medicated that I don't remember everything. Conrad was given scrubs to wear. The nurses came in and transferred me to a gernie, then wheeled me into the operating room without Conrad. All my fear came back. I sobbed as they lifted me from the gernie to the operating table. I was so afraid that I'd feel pain, or that I'd see my own guts, or that I'd die or my baby would die. One of the doctors had to coach me and keep me calm because I was nearly hyperventilating, and they needed me to stay still so they could operate.
The curtain went up, the morphine went in, and they began. I felt everything. No pain, no sensation of sharpness, but I could feel all the tugging and jerking (there was much more movement than I expected). My arms were strapped down, which was part of why it was so scary. Conrad entered the operating room some time after they had started, and he sat down by my head and talked to me. The doctors were talking to me as they went, saying "almost there, you're doing great" and the like, and all the while I was taking deliberate, long breaths trying to keep my crying under control. Finally, they said, "He's out! He's trying to cry." They lifted him up so we could see, and Conrad saw him first and just said, "oh my gosh oh my gosh." The curtain was too high for me to see him and all I saw was a glimpse of his head, all covered in blood.
I stared at that blue curtain for what felt like ten minutes (but was probably less than ten seconds) waiting to hear my baby's cry. Finally, the tiniest little cry.
The tears started flowing. I always wondered if I would cry when I gave birth or if I'd be so caught up that I wouldn't think to cry. Turns out, I'm a crier. I sobbed and sobbed, not out of fear anymore, but out of joy. And just like that, we had our baby boy.