Induction & Introduction (part 2 of 2)

Once we knew the day baby was coming, life around the house seemed to be calmer.  I will admit that knowing we were going for an induction felt like cheating.  I feel like I am missing part of the baby's birth story.  I wonder, what day would HE have chosen to be born.  Would he have come late as my gut was telling me?  Would he have come in the middle of the night or the middle of a snow storm?  Would we have made it to the hospital on time, or would it be another crazy birth story for me?  What would have been my first sign of labor?

None of these questions can get answered.  But we were able to make his birth just as memorable and special.  We were able to do things we wouldn't have done had we not opted for the induction.  The days and nights before I made extra certain that I spent one on one time alone, with each of the bigger boys. I was able to (with the help of Husband) have the house spotless and all of the laundry done before hand.  The day before the induction was a good one for us - our van had been in the body shop from an accident 3 weeks prior and was finally ready; and we took the boys out to dinner - one last time as a family of 4.  That night after my shower; Husband drew a heart on my stomach and everyone wrote a special message to the baby.   Everyone at the hospital LOVED this idea and commented on it, and read the messages.

We left for the hospital a little after 7am on Thursday December 5.  We had only told our parents and one or two other people about the induction.  Because there was no guarantee that our induction plan would work, and I was not willing to try pitocin or other means to induce; there was a chance that after 12 hours I would be sent home with a "failed induction".

We met my mom at the hospital for 8am and I was quickly hooked up to the IV to receive the antibiotics.  My mom and the boys hung around for a little bit, and then she left with them for breakfast and to take care of her horses.  Husband and I joked around with my nurse while she put all of my information into the computer.

Around 9am my midwife (MW) came in and inserted the Cervadil.  For the next couple of hours DH and I just hung out.  We watched TV, walked the hallways, talked to the nurses.  I had some contractions, but nothing I would consider the onset of labor - they were no more intense or frequent than what I had been having at home on and off for weeks.  At noon I had another round of IV antibiotics (I was off the IV pole, aside from the one hour increments it took to administer the meds).  Lunch was brought in during this round, chicken Parmesan - which I found funny as I had ordered that the night before at dinner.  It was good and I was starving and ate most of it, but I did draw the line at the salad which had more diced onion in it that seemed possible.  Within 30 minutes lunch was back with a vengeance and I couldn't help but wonder who gives all this acidic and spicy food to a woman in labor?

Around 1pm my MW came back in and moved the Cervadil closer to my cervix and she stripped my membranes.  My mom stopped in with the boys when this was done, and I nursed TT a little (my MW said it would help bring on labor).  Husband left with them to grab a bite to eat for lunch and I hung out in the room and then went for a walk.  During the walk I realized that labor was imminent.  I got back to the room and was about to call Husband on his cell when he showed up.  Shortly after that my MW was back, I am guessing it was around 2pm at this time. I asked if I could labor in the shower (it was one of those hydro-steam showers) and was told that was fine.  At first I labored alone in the shower; then I realized I needed Husband in there with me and sent him running for his shorts (which where in his bag out in the car).  In no time at all he was back and helping me through the contractions.  While I was in the shower my MW checked my cervix and I was about 3-4 cm and the baby's head was very low.... that seemed to be the entire labor - baby's station was ahead of my cervix; apparently he was more ready than I was for him to be born.  It was also during this time that I realized I really was having another child - that I really had been pregnant for the last 9 months and this WAS happening.

I had to get back into bed for my MW to remove the Cervadil (which she was awesome about and I was wrapped in heated towels) and as I was laboring in bed I started to have some very painful contractions.  These brought back sharp memories of my labor with TT and being trapped in the car.  I cried a little and was very afraid of going through "that" experience again.  My MW suggested the birthing ball; which sounded like and turned out to be a great idea.  I sat on the ball for the longest while.  Husband coached me through my breathing and MW gave the BEST back and hip massages to go along with my contractions.  She stayed with us for the longest time until she had to step out briefly and Husband took over.  During this period I started to really have to vocalize through the contractions and unfortunately it was also time for another round of IV medications.

So by best guess this was shortly after 5pm, as they are given every 4 hours.  One of the things that really struck me with this labor is I had no concept of time or exactly how fast my labor was progressing.  There was no timing of my contractions, there were no internal checks of my cervix - my MW was able to move me through labor based simply on how I was acting.  Even when I was ready to push she didn't insist on checking to "make sure" I was complete.  

As soon as I was hooked up to the IV again I jumped out of bed and headed back to the shower.  Once in the shower my water broke, it was a small break and merely trickled this time.  I was told if I wanted to deliver in the shower I could and I would have; but all of the heat from the steam plus the pain started going to my head and I got light headed, I thought I was going to pass out and so did Husband and MW.  As I was getting out of the shower I felt the need to go to the bathroom; to push; and I asked my MW how to tell the difference between the two and her response "I don't know, they are kind of the same."  Thinking back on RR's labor I would have to agree.  I tried the toilet but that did nothing for me, and at this time I was screaming and cried for drugs.  My MW told me she didn't think I needed them.  I decided I wanted to push in bed after that and tried a few positions, but mostly ended up screaming - at which my MW said to me "That's great screaming, but how about trying some pushing."  Once I found a comfortable position (the old stand-by) I had a few practice pushes; felt my water gush out a couple of times, felt the ring of fire (dear Lord; glad I didn't have that with TT) and then in one big push and with a huge surge of water out came baby - yes all in one shot, thank you.

He was placed on my chest and I was immediately in love.  

Baby boy was born at 5:25pm; roughly three and a half hours after labor really seemed to start for me.

I have no idea what his Apgar scores were.  It didn't seem important.  What was important is that they let me hold him and hold him.  He was so tiny, and warm, and fit perfectly on my chest.  We waited a good long while for the cord to stop pulsing and Husband made a couple quick "he's here" calls and snapped up pictures.  Once the cord was cut they took him to be weighed and measured.  He was 6 lbs. 5 ounces and 18.5" long - my smallest baby.

It was at this time that we found out he had a low body temperature (95 point something degrees) and would need to go to the nursery.  Husband followed them out as I shouted, "don't give him formula I'll pump first".

And with all of that our newest member of the family fell into our hearts and lives.

More details to come in an epilogue.....

Induction & Introdcution (part 1 of 2)

Ah.... A long overdue pregnancy post.... followed by a birth story and an introduction.

Somewhere in the 36 week range of pregnancy I did as every pregnant American women does and tested for Group B Strep (GBS).  A week later I found out I was positive for GBS.  And I was crushed.  In the US being positive for GBS and delivering in the hospital requires several rounds IV delivered antibiotics.  You can decline, but you're given a hard time about it.  I opted to retest before making any decisions about what I wanted to do go forward.

You see we all carry GBS in our body; it's just a matter of whether or not it's active.  When it's active it's only active for 6 weeks at a time.  So there was a chance to retesting and not being GBS positive anymore.  Personally I find the whole GBS thing a bunch of bull as you can be negative at time of testing but positive when you deliver and they (the doctors and hospital) have no way of knowing.  There is not a "rapid strep test" for GBS.  Anyhow, I go home and treat with some home remedies from my midwife and some that I found on-line.

My retest a week later comes back still positive.  I am a mess.  I am crying.  I do NOT want an IV in while delivering.  I want a water birth, like we had hoped for with TT; free of as much medical intervention as possible.  I worry about yeast infections and thrush for me and baby, both side effects from antibiotics.  I worry about baby and the 1 in 2,000 chance of fetal death from GBS if I do not treat.  I worry about not getting to the hospital and treating the GBS before baby is born (remember TT's labor?).

My midwives offer an induction.  They tell me  based on my history of fast labors and the GBS+ status that the induction will give me the birth I want, the water birth I want.  Yes, I will need an IV, but it will not be in all the time.  Husband and I think it over, I cry some, we talk and talk more and decide the induction was the way to go.

We had an appointment with the midwife that was doing the induction and we sat down to talk more about the birth plan; and that's when I found out the birth tub was not available (new tub in a new suite waiting for the board of health to approve it).  I, again, was crushed.  The water birth was the incentive I needed to go ahead with an induction.  Personally, I am just not a fan of the idea of inductions.  Too many chances for complications, additional drugs, interventions.... and the whole "picking your child's birth date" thing really bothers me.

Based on my history, current dilation, baby position and my desire to have no medical interventions or drugs we decided to use a medication called Cedavil.  I was up front and told her absolutely no pitocin, which is what everyone thinks of when you mention an induction.  Cedavil is a thin strip of material placed next to the cervix which help ripen and dilate the cervix.  If this did not work within 12 hours we were going to call it a failed induction and I was going to go home.  Because of the chance of not having the baby that day; and because when you mention induction everyone assumes pitocin Husband and I opted not to tell anyone about the induction.  We told our mothers and one or two other people and then hoped for the best.

The induction date was set for December 5; six days before the baby's actual due date.


to be continued

Breastfeeding & Jaundice

Earlier in the year The Alpha Parent Blog did a series on "boobie traps", the pitfalls and obstacles women face when it comes to breastfeeding.  They were looking for stories from nursing moms who had overcome various "boobie traps" and I submitted my stories in regards to nursing RR and TT.  Last Tuesday, as part of the blog's Triumphant Tuesday segment which highlights women and babies who have overcome these "boobie traps" my nursing stories where shared.

You can find them here: Triumphant Tuesday: Breastfeeding a Jaundiced Baby.

Please note this is my story told through someone else.  Some of the text is wholly my own, some is not.

The Truth of the Matter

In studying to become a breastfeeding consultant I am learning not only about the wonders of breasts and breastmilk but more about women's health in general, and specifically the birthing process.  TT's birth was fast, very fast.  And as I have learned it is called a precipitous birth and affects 2% of women.  A precipitous birth is defined as a labor lasting 3 hours or less from the first contraction to delivery.  (My labor with Teddy was a little under two hours - one hour at home, 45 minutes driving to the hospital and 10 or so minutes there.)

Now, as a regular reader you know I have blogged about TT's birth before; in retrospect this is the sugar coated version of how it all went down.  Yeah, like a mafia hit... his birth went down.

The first contraction was sharp, strong, sharp and very knowing. A foreshadow.

I had gotten into the shower at the onset of labor; as a test to see if it was "real labor".    In hindsight, we should have called the OB's office sooner.  And when my OB suggested not coming in right away since my labor had "just started" I should have told her more directly that it was time to get a move on.  Perhaps then she might have made it before TT was born.

Precipitous labor hurts.  Let me restate that it H-U-R-T-S.

Yes, I know all labor hurts.  This is why there are drugs designed just to help women get through it.  But imagine cramming all of the pain one might experience in the average 15.6 hour labor into 2 hours.  I've been reading stories shared by others in regards to their own precipitous labors - I think I got the middle of the road... I've read about women not feeling anything till the last 15 minutes to women who were in some much pain they bit themselves and drew blood.

As we were getting into the car I honestly had doubts about making it to the hospital.  I remember wanting Husband to take one last pregnancy picture before we went out the door, RR was already in the car waiting for us; and thinking "holy bleep bleep bleep bleep I am never going to make it".

At this point my contractions where about a minute long with a minute between them.  This is not an exaggeration.  As Husband drove to the interstate I couldn't get my mind off the pain.  Breathing was not helping; and then as he slowed to pass through the toll plaza the contractions let up.  Ahhh, sweet relief I thought I can do this, and then BAM.  The lull in contractions for a few minutes was the transition between active and transitional labor.  We were in it for real now.

I remember RR telling me to breath, I remember me telling RR to breath as he was so not calm.  And how could he be; Husband was driving as fast as he could and I was moaning, groaning, and screaming through contractions which were ONE. ON. TOP. OF. EACH. OTHER.  There was no break in the pain, it was like the tide coming in - waves of pain rolling over me.  I couldn't sit, I half laid in the seat pushing my rear end out of the seat as my feet dug into the floor in an effort to comfort myself.  So much for staying loose - as we learned in childbirth class - pain is easier to deal with if you are relaxed and loose.  HA!!  At one point I had wanted to tell Husband to pull the car over just so I could get out and walk, as being confined to the car seemed like the worst possible scenario.  But I didn't want to traumatize RR any further, not to mention it was dark and cold; oh so cold are winter nights in New England.  Thank goodness it wasn't snowing or icing out.

When we got to the hospital my mom and step-dad were outside waiting for us.  Husband threw my mom the keys to park the car and RR was ushered inside by my step-dad.  Poor RR he thought I was going to die.  Let's me be honest, I thought I was going to die I was in so much pain; totally bewildered by how women were able to give natural child birth for two millennial.

Ha.  I can laugh now; if precipitous birth was the norm and not the expcetion we would have died out as a species a long time ago.    Husband did his best to help me in and I couldn't decide if I wanted to walk (ugh, it hurt too much to move) or sit in the wheelchair (that felt like I was going to snap the baby's head off) - so I opted for a limping run - if memory serves me correctly.  Everything began to get very blurry at this time.

I remember a nurse taking my arm as Husband checked us in; she was ushering me in triage and I had to stop and hold the wall the pain was so immense.  She asked me how long I had been in labor, and I swear she laughed at me when I told her a little over an hour; like I was some sort of drama-queen not up for giving birth.  I think she doubted just how far along my labor was.  I told her I was going to need drugs, and she said they'd have a look and decide from there.

I was sent into the bathroom to get changed into a johnny.  The room was swimming and my contractions would not stop, or lessen; they continued to come right on top of each other.  I sat down on the toilet and my water broke - how had I forgotten about this step in all of my worry about the baby coming in the car?  I looked down and noticed my water was brown, and I though - "Oh crap, the baby pooped already.  I hope we're not in trouble."

The next contraction brought me to my knees and I called out for help.  The nurses yelled back I had to get myself dressed and out of the bathroom.  jerks.

I half walked half crawled and cried all the way onto the bed, so happy to see Husband waiting for me.  One of the nurses prompted me with a "let's see how far along we are".... this statement was followed by her yelling "get the mid-wife I see a head."

I cried, I told them I couldn't do it.  Husband told me I could.  The nurse and mid-wife told me I had to.  I was so drained and exhausted from the pain.  And then I remembered, pushing brings relief, and once you're done pushing it's all over.  The pain will stop.  And so I pushed.  Three pushes later and the mid-wife proclaimed "you have a baby."

"Great" I said "What is it?" - we hadn't found out the baby's sex during pregnancy.  "It's a boy" proclaimed my OB, who had just arrived in the scene as she was pulling on her gloves.

"Later" that evening - and I say later with quotations as really not that much time had passed and it was still before midnight, Husband and I lay in my hospital room with the baby nestled between us we spoke in awe of the events that had just unfolded.  We spoke about how we went from a family of three to nearly instantly a family of 4, although it had been months in the making.

-----

When we had gotten home from the hospital and I walked into our bathroom and saw my bright red fuzzy bathrobe laying on the floor where I had left it mid-labor and started crying.  I had chalked it up to early on-set baby blues at the time; but now I know it was more than that.  It is still more than that; TT's labor was a traumatic event.  It almost sounds overated as I type that, say that out loud for the first time.  TT's labor scared me.  It scared me to my core.  But I am learning now to accept it.  To cope with it.  To make it my own and to learn from it, to be better prepared should we be blessed with another pregnancy in the future.

Ha!!!  I have to laugh at this.  I had sworn up and down that since RR was early, then TT would HAVE to be early, and he was born just hours before his due date.  Which means, Murphy's Law being what it is and all that jazz, I'll probably end up with a c-section after 48 hours of labor in the future; just because I'll be educated and aware of precipitous birth.

But my chances of having another precipitous birth are "most likely" since I've already had one.  Other "causes" are doing cocaine... yeah, good thing I'm not a user.

Oh well, I guess only time will tell - about the birth that is... not the cocaine.

Firsts, Expectations and Bibs

Turkey and Monkey had due dates within days of each other, so when it was time for Monkey to be born I had expected him to be early like his brother.  Everyone told me the second one usually comes "before" your first, and seeing that by this time last year I was walking around already 3cm dilated I assumed Monkey would be here before Valentine's Day.

I was so sure Valentine's Day was going to be his first holiday that I went out and got him a "First Valentine's Day" bib and tucked it into my hospital bag.

Valentine's Day came and went, and no Monkey.  The bib did travel to and from the hospital with us, and eventually got tucked into his dresser.  Over the year it's be accompanied by 1st Easter, Halloween, Thanksgiving and so-on bibs.

Today he finally got a chance to wear the bib I bought him over a year ago.

Today he celebrated his last 1st holiday.

I know a lot of parent's that commiserate over the end of the first year, the end of firsts if you will.

But I have learned over the years (many thanks to Turkey for this lesson) that firsts don't end after your baby turns one.  In fact, some of the most exciting firsts happen after year one, two, or even after the first five years. I know I have many, many firsts to look forward for both of my boys.

We had a lot of expectations for Monkey in his first year, and some of them we have seen happen; and others we are still waiting on... like teeth.  When is he going to get that first tooth?

I guess that's the other lesson my boys have taught me - expect to be amazed and expect the unexpected; because sometimes what you are expecting doesn't happen.

Oh and by the way, this bib is still so big on him, he would have looked totally ridiculous on him last year. 

Memories: Turkey's Birth Story

In honor of Turkey's 8th birthday yesterday I thought I would share the details of his birth... don't worry I'll leave out all the graphic ones.  Oh and this may be a little spotty because it has been 8 years after all.

On Friday January 30, 2004 I had an OB appointment.  The doctor assured me that I was not making an progress in the area of dilation and sent me on my way with a "see you next week".  I went out and picked up my Goddaughter, V, who was 9 at the time.  V was spending the night... we were going to have one last "girls weekend" before the baby came.  I picked her from her dad's work and we headed to McD's for dinner.  I wasn't hungry, so I skipped (this should have been my first clue that something was afoot).  At my house we watched some movies and she went to bed on the couch and I went into my room.  My X was working nights and V and I had breakfast and pedicure plans in the morning.  The following afternoon my friends from high school were suppose to be coming over and we were all going to work on getting the apartment ready for the baby... including all of the unpacking from the baby shower.

Around 6:30am on Saturday January 31, 2004 I was woken up by a sharp cramp in my side.  My ex had just gotten home from work a few hours before and I had been up with him until the wee hours... so I was not happy being woken up so early.

I walked into the bathroom and WOOOOOOSSSSHHHH!!!! went my water.  That was the end of that bathmat.

After I came to terms with what was happening I called my OB then ironed my clothes waiting for a call back.  Clearly, labor had not yet started.  Once I got off the phone with them I showered, did some last minute packing and got V and my ex up.  I was cool calm and collected, my ex on the other hand not so much and he ended up wearing half of his work uniform to the hospital.  We called my Grammie, so she could watch V... then called my mom and headed in (skipping eating again).

In triage they confirmed my had broken and then I started crying... why because I was a crazy hormonal pregnant lady... the reason I kept using was because it wasn't February yet and MY baby was due in February.  Around this time the contractions, albeit irregular, started.

We got checked in and my ex called the friends we had plans with and they came to the hospital to cheer us on.

Eventually I made it to 4cm and asked for an epidural.

Then the hospital staff started to threaten Pitocin to make my contractions regular.

Epidural attempt 1 went OK, but didn't work.  Then my mom came.  Epidural attempt 2 went OK as well, but I still had feeling on one side. I used to say it full feeling, but after going through natural childbirth with Monkey I can now assure you it worked some, but not great.

They checked me around 2pm and I was at 6cm.  Then they tried the epidural again, but I begged them to stop as I had to use the bathroom... which I was able to walk to since my epidural wasn't working.  After a few minutes I realized I had problems... I had to push but nothing was coming out... so I asked the anesthesiologist about this... and with that he called for a nurse to check me.  They argued... the nurse didn't want to check me as I "was 6cm just 15 minutes ago", blah, blah, blah... eventually the anesthesiologist won out and she checked and it was go-time.

Skip the gory details.... and Turkey was born at 2:40pm.

He was 6 lbs. 14 oz and 19 inches... and simply perfect in my opinion.

The next day was Super Bowl Sunday and we watched the Patriots win from our hospital suite while I feasted on a black raspberry and hot fudge sundae.

Speaking of food, after Turkey was born all I wanted to do was eat.  I had gone around 24 hours without eating... I ate a TON while in the hospital.

Now that I think about Turkey's birth and Monkey's birth, and while they were both very different I think I see a pattern.... once I hit active labor my labors go fast, very fast.  Maybe Husband is right, when and if we have #3, we should take a room out at the hospital ahead of time... just in case.  Or maybe....

What's In a Name?

When we had Monkey we were on "team green".  For those of you not down with the mommy-internet-slag, that means we didn't find out the sex of baby until after the birth.

As such we thought of many, many names for both sexes.  At one time we had considered for boy names: Mitchell, Gregory, Everett and Oliver.  For a girl we were pretty set on Lucille, Lucy-Lo for short.  But we had also considered Annaleise (it was on "the list", but really if he had been a girl he most likely would have been Lucille).

A while back my cousin and I were discussing baby names (this is before Monkey was born I am sure, which means it was back when she was considering having a baby)... and Oliver was her top baby boy name choice (at the time).  After that conversation Husband and I scratched that name off our list... we decided we didn't like the meaning (elf army) and since it was her TOP name we wouldn't "steal it".  I don't think in that conversation we ever discussed girl names.

Fast-forward to now... and we have had a bouncing baby boy; whose name means "divine gift".  A nice and strong name; which goes well with his big brother's name which means "wise protector".

This summer when my cousin found out her baby was going to be a girl and revealed the name... I was in awe; it was a variation of Lucille.  Great minds clearly think alike, especially when it comes to naming baby.

I had really thought Monkey was going to be a girl.  Everyone, except Turkey who kept insisting he was going to have a brother, thought he was going to be a she.

I had dreams of having "my" little girl... she would be fair skinned, with a head full of jet black hair and bright blue eyes.  Imagine my surprise when Monkey turned out to be a boy with patchy strawberry-blonde hair and eyes that are yet to change color fully (we're guessing they will be hazel or brown).

Today we welcome my cousin's baby into the world... with a head full of black hair.... it must be in the name. They are truly blessed and she's a lucky little girl to have such wonderful parents.

And if you are wondering we've since changed our top girl name (and not because of my cousin's naming choice)... the new name has to do with victory.  And that's all I am going to say.  

Postpartum Depression

I think the general rule of thumb, after you've had a baby, that if you think you have PPD; then you most likely do.  I had thought I had escaped it this time around, seeing that Monkey is nearly 5 months old; but I do believe I was wrong.  Time to call the doctor.

Memories: Monkey's Birth Story

Tonight at 10:27 Monkey turns one month old.  This has to be the fastest month of my life, which makes sense because his birth was by far faster than's Turkey's (whose wasn't very long either).  So in honor of this day let's take a trip down (a not so distant) memory lane.

The day started out as your typical Tuesday (as of recently), I worked from home, we had dinner and watched Jeopardy.  I put Turkey to bed around 8:15pm.  I walked into our bedroom, where husband sat on the bed looking cute and sweet, ready to watch a movie and cuddle.  "Are You Smarter Than a 5th Grader", was on TV.  I stopped and leaned on the bed feeling a contraction. After about 10 minutes I told husband, in a very stern voice, he better not panic or get excited but I thought it was time to start timing contractions.  They were about 45 seconds long and 3 or so minutes apart.  I decided I should shower, to see if they stopped then, denoting false labor (which I had been in and out of for what seemed like weeks, dilated to 3cm a few day before).

While in the shower the contractions became a minute long and 2 minutes apart, so I decided it was time to call the OB.  I got out of the shower, called the on-call service and waited for the on-call OB (who happened to be the same OB that delivered Turkey 7 years, 2 weeks and 1 day ago) to call back.  In that mean time I called my parents to put them on alert, as they were watching Turkey.

OB called back and almost talked me out of going to the hospital, since I had only been in labor for about 30 minutes.  But with a 40 minute drive I didn't want to take a chance, and what was the worse that would happen if I wasn't in labor, going home?  We then called my parents back and asked them to meet us at the hospital and woke up Turkey.

Turkey was very excited and didn't want to miss meeting his brother or sister, and was in the car waiting well before we were ready to leave.  Husband packed up the car and took one last pregnancy picture of me and we headed out.

We hadn't driven far when husband realized we needed to get to the hospital fast, and he proceeded to do about 90 mph on the highway.  Labor was hard and fast on the way to the hospital, I hit "transition" about half way there and had to vocalize the contractions, which scared both husband and Turkey, but they were good about reminding me to breath.  Turkey was a great second coach and reminded me "in through the nose and out through the mouth".

We pulled up to the hospital and my mom was waiting outside, she took the car to park it and my step-dad took Turkey inside.  I decided I couldn't sit in a wheel chair and husband helped me inside where a nurse quickly met us.  Husband finished my registration (thank goodness we had preregistered)  and I told the nurse I wanted drugs, she said "we'll see".  They helped me into the bathroom and gave me a johnny to put on, as soon as I took my clothes off my water broke, I put on the johnny as quickly as I could during the contractions and came out into the triage area (thankfully we were the only people there - this is a birthing hospital).

The nurses helped me to a bed and husband held my hand, I told them I needed to push and the nurse checked and saw a head and called for a midwife (my OB wasn't there yet).  Three pushes later and Monkey was born.  The midwife said "Congratulations you have a baby", and I said "Great.  What is is?", as we didn't know the sex before hand, we were told it was a boy.  I looked over and my OB showed up, she only had one glove on.  Monkey's apgars were 8 and 8.  Husband went out to tell Turkey he had a brother, and then joined me.  Monkey was placed on my chest and we were wheeled up to a room (where my OB finished the business and they finished checking us in.  I remember one nurse asking if there was a billing code for delivery in triage.  Ha!!!)

Monkey was born at 10:27 pm on 2/15 and was 7 lbs. 11 oz and 20 inches long.  And I am pleased to say, completely medication free - unless you count the Tylenol I had around 8pm.



In my defense I did start this yesterday, when Monkey turned 1 month old - but life doesn't always allow you to finish a project when you want.