The Details

I have just finished reading through all of the emails we have received over the past two days and it is an understatement to say that I am overwhelmed. Thank you all for your kind wishes and congratulations; it is really special to know that so many people share in our pride and excitement over Jack's birth.

A number of you have written to me asking for birth details (I think it's safe to say that all of these questions have come from women!). I don't see myself having time to provide those details to everyone individually, so I here provide the timeline of how the labor played out. Feel free to skip this post entirely as it's nowhere near as brief or witty as Mick's posts.

Tues, 5 pm: Receive Cervidil to help prepare my body for the induction.

Wed, 7 am: Begin receiving Pitocin -- am dilated to 3 cm.

Wed, 7 am - 12 noon: Labor is endurable, played cards with Mick & my mom, contractions pick up but I still am able to manage w/out an epidural (as I wished).

Wed, 12 noon: Water is broken -- am dilated to 4 cm.

Wed, 12 noon - 4:30 pm: Labor picks up dramatically in intensity. I continue laboring with no epidural, fully due to the support I received from Mick and my mom (both of whom were fantastic and who, thankfully, were not offended when I snapped at them for rubbing my back or breathing with me). By 4:00, my midwife was sure I was in the transition stage of labor (8cm - 10 cm) because of the way I was reacting to the strength and frequency of contractions. I was kind of in a zone -- shivering/shaking, vomiting, moaning, etc. The pain was intense but I was so proud of myself that I was still without an epidural. My nurse was fantastic; she told me pre-labor that she had 3 kids, all born via Pitocin induction, and that she did not have an epidural for any of them. She was truly my inspiration throughout labor as so many people had scoffed at my goal of having an epidural-free labor with Pitocin.

4:30 pm: Midwife checks me -- she is shocked (as am I) that I have only progressed about 1/2 cm in 4 1/2 hours, particularly given the intensity of my contractions. She tells Mick & I (though I am barely aware of what she's saying b/c I am gripping the bed rails and trying not to give up) that we have 2 options because she thinks the baby's head is too big for my pelvis. We could either keep laboring for a few more hours and see if the baby progressed (which she doubted because my cervix was starting to swell, which is an indication that the baby's head won't descend through the birth canal) or we could have a c-section.

4:35 pm: Mick and I decide to do a c-section so the baby won't be stressed any more than he already has been. Mick is given scrubs, I am told that the anesthesiologists are being called for an epidural.

4:45 pm (approx): Suddenly, everyone is running around and hollering at each other (by everyone I mean the medical team) and my bed is being raced down the hall. I am zoomed into the OR and I hear the OBGYN screaming into the phone that she needs the anesthesiologists NOW because she has fetal distress with a heartbeat of 105 and if she doesn't have anesthesia in 1 minute she is going to call a code. I am alone in the OR with no sign of Mick and all I could focus on was the frenzied pace around me. No one was talking to me and telling me things would be okay. The doctors were not reserving their concern for hushed conversations with each other; they were being VERY vocal about the severity of the situation. Within about 2 minutes, I was being told to breathe deeply as there was no time for an epidural or c-section and that I was going to need a general anesthetic. I was so scared I cannot put it into words. Mick wasn't there to hold my hand - no one was. The last thought I had was that I could very well wake up without a baby. In the meantime, Mick -- in his scrubs -- and my mom were left standing in the hallway with little idea of what had happened so quickly and why Mick wasn't being invited in to the OR.

4:58 pm: Jack William Collins is born and is healthy (Apgar scores of 8 and 9 on a 10-point scale).

7:00 pm: I wake up in recovery and immediately ask if the baby is okay, followed by saying "Oh, crap! He hasn't eaten yet. He must be starving. Bring him to me so I can feed him." (I don't remember any of this -- I was very out of it and have been told I was saying some pretty funny things as I came out of the anesthesia.)

So, that's how the whole thing played out. Obviously, this was the exact opposite of what I had prepared for with the Lamaze, birth plan, and midwife. What was especially jarring about the situation was the span of time in which things moved from a "we should do something in the next few hours" situation to an absolute emergency. Fewer than 15 minutes after I was rushed out of my room, Jack was born. I was told post-delivery that the doctors used staples rather than stitches on me b/c they had no time to sterilize anything because it was such an emergency; should I get an infection, it will be easier to manage with staples than with stitches.

These last few days have been tough for me due to the way Jack was born. It was especially hard for me yesterday as I felt as if I was never going to bond with Jack. I didn't have that moment when I saw my child born, when I looked at my husband and cried as I learned we had a healthy son. Instead, I woke up and there was a baby next to me that people told me was my son. Everything I dreamed about -- delivering Jack, hearing the midwife announce whether we had a boy or girl, looking into Mick's eyes and knowing we had created this little person -- did not happen.

Fortunately, Mick has been patient with my roller-coaster emotions and I am pleased to say that I fell in love last night with Jack. I just needed a little time to feel like he really was mine.

I am about to head off to bed, but am anxiously awaiting Jack's next feeding so I can look at him with that sense of overwhelming love and awe and that I have never known before.