So, it finally happened. Not that I didn’t think it would, but when you get a week past due, you do start to wonder when it’s going to.

Friday morning, something felt different. There was an urgency that I hadn’t had before to get everything done so that in case Alex arrived later, I wouldn’t have to think about cleaning the house instead of recovering. I got all the laundry folded, dishes done, and cleaned up all the toys that Nour had strewn about the house. She helped with that, of course. Lily was here, but she took a nice nap, which enabled me to get my massive cleaning project done.

My contractions were harder than they had been, but still not difficult. I timed them a couple times, and they were always about 5 minutes apart, never too close, never much further. I called Sam around 1, telling him that I might need him to come home early, but that he could go about his day. He did a balance to make sure that if he had to leave right away, he wouldn’t have to spend a lot of extra time balancing. Lily left around 3:30, so after that, I just started getting everything ready to go, in case this was really it. Not much happened between 1 and 4, but I called my mom at 4, before calling the doctor, because I was pretty sure that this was going to be it. She sent dad our way to pick up Nour, and I called the doctor’s office right before they closed. The nurse said to head to the hospital as soon as we could, and I waited a little while before deciding to call Sam and ask him to go ahead and come home early. He left work about an hour early, which was nice, he didn’t miss much work. Dad got here a few minutes before Sam, and I had everything ready to go for Nour and myself. I was glad I’d called Sam, because I didn’t want to be left alone completely, even though I don’t think Nour would have been much help.

My contractions didn’t get much stronger all evening, and we made it to the hospital at 5:30, and they monitored me for about 45 minutes. The nurses said I was definitely doing something, but it wasn’t going anywhere right now. They sent us to walk, and we went to Panera to eat something light. It would be my last meal for about 22 hours. I had a bagel and soup with bread, Sam had a big sandwich! We then went to Half-Price Books to walk around and found a cool cook-book, which Sam had to buy. We went to Deals after that to get the Thursday newspaper and some munchies for Sam. We got back to the hospital around 7:40, they hooked me up again, and even though I was having contractions, I wasn’t getting anywhere. The good news was that I was having some light bleeding—which meant that things might get moving soon. We walked around the labor floor for an hour—around and around and around, actually. I think we made it around about 10 times before my feet and legs had had enough. The contractions were getting a little stronger, but still not strong enough to take my breath away or make me stop talking or walking. I was sure that this was it, it was just a little slow going. At 10, the nurse spoke to the doctor on call, who sent me home with an Ambien to help me sleep.

Between 10 and 1:30 the next morning is a bit of a haze for me. I remember a few things, but I don’t remember much. I fell asleep in the car on the way home, said some funny things to Sam, called my dad in a stupor, and went to bed at 10:30. For the next three hours, I slept like a baby, but at 1:30, I woke up to a much different feeling. My contractions were a LOT stronger, so I decided to take a bath, thinking that if they didn’t let up, we would go back to the hospital very soon. Between 2 and 3, I folded a basket of laundry, then made Sam get up and take a shower with me. He wanted to shave his beard, but I told him I didn’t think he should do that tonight. We got back to the hospital around 3:30, and I was 4 centimeters dilated! I was thrilled, but it meant we would be admitted, and that I would now be confined to the bed. At 4:00, they put my saline lock in, and the nurses were really nice about not making me start IV fluids right away.

They broke my water shortly after that, and discovered that he had passed meconium, so when they got the internal monitors in, they were going to use the catheter to wash out the fluid. The nurse tried to put in the internal monitors, but it wasn’t doing what it was supposed to. It was very painful, and they couldn’t get it in, so they came back with someone different every fifteen minutes—wanting to give me a chance to relax and recover between pokes and prods. As soon as my water was broken, the contractions got much stronger, and much more painful. I laid on my back for a couple of hours, but they said I wasn’t progressing very quickly, and made me start to lay on my side. I went from 4-6 centimeters between 4 and 7, but was in so much pain by 7:00, I was begging for relief. I couldn’t lay still through the contractions, and the nurse was nice, but I could tell she was getting frustrated because I kept getting up. Baby was doing great the entire time, but they knew that if I just did what was most comfortable, I might not progress. And no one wanted my labor to stall—least of all, me.

With the pain of the contractions at 7:00, I said I needed something. I asked what my options were, and the nurse strongly discouraged Nubain, so I consented to the epidural. Unfortunately, I had to suffer for the next hour because the anesthesiologist was in a surgery. I made it through somehow, but knew that I wouldn’t make it much longer before I might suggest something rash. 8:00 came around and so did the anesthesiologist. The epidural was in place in a few minutes, and by 8:15, I was feeling so much better. The greatest part was that I could feel all the pressure, I wasn’t numb, and I could move on my own without being lifted or shifted.

Between 8 and 9, things got a lot better. Sam woke up from his “nap” –he slept most of the morning, as I had tried to do (with no luck), and went down to get some breakfast. He hadn’t been gone 2 minutes when I shifted slightly and Alex’s heartbeat went way down. The alarm had sounded, but I could really call for anyone in the position I was in. Fortunately, everyone recognized the emergency and 7 people came to the “rescue.”  I was very calm, partly from feeling better, partly because I didn’t think me getting upset would help matters. A nurse put an oxygen mask on me, the doctor put the internal monitors on—I couldn’t feel it at all! And everyone else helped move me to a more amiable position for Alex. His heartbeat was back up within another minute, and Sam returned a little while later while the nurse was in the room checking back on the monitor. She explained what had happened, and he just kind of nodded, he seemed all right with it, since they had taken care of it so quickly.

I don’t remember what time Mom came by with Nour, but they stopped by sometime in the morning to visit. I was allowed to take off the oxygen mask about 30 minutes after the incident, and when they came, I didn’t have it on. They didn’t stay long, but Nour seemed a bit worried. Between 8 and probably 11, there wasn’t much progress. It’s funny, when you’re in too much pain, it hinders progress, but when you’re in no pain, it also seems to hinder progress. It was all about position at this point. Finally around 11, the doctor suggested possibly starting pitocin, because I was moving along, just slowly, and I think they were worried about another incident. I was in a different state of mind at this point, and when the nurse came in to tell me, I asked if we could wait a little bit. Turns out, the doctor didn’t order the pit yet, and was coming to check me herself. When she came in, she said I was at 7, and then had the nurse check. When the nurse checked, she said it seemed like I’d made progress from before and the doctor said let’s wait on the pitocin. Yea! But around 1:00, I still hadn’t moved past that 7, and we finally went for the pitocin.

They started the pitocin at 1:10, and over the next hour, I went through transition fairly easily. The hardest part was that after only a couple of contractions on the pitocin, I started feeling a pressing urge to push. I had to breathe hard through every contraction, but thankfully, they were only about 5 minutes apart, so it wasn’t like they were on top of each other making it hard to relax. I told the nurse twice, but she wouldn’t check me, since it had only been 30 minutes. Finally, at 5 after 2, she checked me and said I was ready! Well, it’s not so simple, you don’t just start pushing! I was allowed to bear down, but not push hard, until about 2:40 when they got everything ready for Alex to come out. The doctor showed up right away, but stayed out of the way for the first 30 minutes of pushing.

I was rather upset, because the nurses wanted me to hold my breath and push, which was really hard for me, because it pretty much went against my natural instincts, not to mention much medical advice I’ve read in the last 9 months. But I was at their mercy at this point, so there wasn’t much stopping it. I was able to give 3 pushes per contraction for 55 minutes, which was probably about 20 contractions. Alex arrived at 3:35, and Sam described it as the scene from MIB where Will Smith’s character helps birth an octopus-like alien. I had my eyes closed almost the entire time, because I couldn’t focus any other way. I think Sam was quite surprised by how everything transpired, and was proud of me, to say the least.

The doctor discovered that the cord was around his neck, but not very tightly, and when the rest of the cord came out, she also saw that there was a knot in it, but it wasn’t pulled tight. Throughout labor, Alex’s heart rate was pretty steady at 160, only dropping down during contractions occasionally, or when he moved, except for the one time that morning.

I tore all the way to the muscle, and it was not so much fun to be stitched up. It felt like she was sewing forever, but the doctor was very matter-of-fact about it, and just told me to start taking Metamucil right away.

Alex got to nurse almost immediately, and no one tried to take him away. In fact, he came right to the room with us and a nurse bathed him there. He roomed in the whole time, leaving only briefly when we took a shower or they did his checks. Everyone was great about bringing him back, and no one ever offered to take him or offer him a bottle or pacifier. He slept great and nursed great, and we were ready to go home right on schedule. He didn’t lose more than two ounces while we were at the hospital, and I think that getting to nurse him a lot more, and not feeling clueless about everything really helped with that. He hates dirty diapers and loves being swaddled. He’s a big piggy, and wants to nurse at least every 2 hours, if not more, which I’m glad to oblige. He and Nour are like the odd couple of kids, they couldn’t be more different than each other in every way. It’s great, because Nour was a bit of a fuss-bucket, and he’s very mild and relaxed about everything (except dirty diapers!).

Overall, the experiences of their births were also very different, and I’m really glad I got to experience the VBAC, because I definitely wouldn’t change a thing about how well it went, in spite of interventions. Sam was really pleased, as well, and thought that this time around was much better. The outcome—the babies—were both great, but the experience that I wanted was pretty much what I got. Having experienced both a vaginal and cesarean delivery, even with tearing and stitches, I would prefer the vaginal any day of the week. I feel great, my body hasn’t been cut up, and I am able to do a lot more than I was after I had Nour. I feel happier, too, even if I look exhausted, and my milk came in about 3 days quicker this time than last time, which means that I have a very full and contented baby, rather than one who is frustrated and hungry.

I also know that if I ended up with another cesarean (if we have more kids, that is), there would have to be a really good reason for it, because I know I can do it the “right” way. So that’s the story of Alex’s birth—the long version!