Babies are neat. Kids are neat. In particular, based on a sample size of one (Russell Loren Parsons, born 12/21/99), David and I concluded OUR kids are neat, and now that we had already managed to have the cutest baby in the whole wide world, why not do it again? So we were very pleased to realize that another baby was on the way, due April 12, 2002.
On Saturday, April 6, I woke up at 8 a.m. and realized I was having contractions. I was pleasantly surprised, though, to find out I could function more or less normally through the contractions (unlike with Russell), so that I had a chance to organize last-minute things and be excited without yet being too overwhelmed by labor. I also could not believe how lucky I was to go into labor at 8 a.m., after everyone involved had had a decent night's sleep but before much of the day had passed.
Metta and Roger, David's parents, came over to pick up Russell and drive us to the hospital. We left at 10 a.m. I had a few contractions on the way, but they were manageable with some concentration and deep breathing, so mostly I had time and energy to be happy things had started off so well and that we were all together. I was so glad to get a last chance to talk to Russell about how David and I were going to the hospital to have the tiny baby (probably!) and how he was going to go have fun with Grandma and Grandpa. He seemed pretty cheerful, which was a big relief. Everything outside looked bright and fresh and colorful in the beautiful spring weather. April is a good time to have a baby.
As soon as David and I got out of the car and started walking through the hospital, my contractions started getting more intense, although in between them, I felt fine. We checked in to the last empty labor/delivery/recovery room at the hospital! Yikes. Ginny Potter, the doula (labor assistant) we had hired, who was also a wonderful help for Russell's birth, arrived just a few minutes after we did. Karla, our nurse, checked my cervix and found it to be 3-4 cm dilated and 90% effaced; the baby was at -2 station. (A cervix must dilate to 10 cm before it is open enough to allow that big head to get pushed through.)
The next hour and a half was not agonizing, but it sure was tedious. I wanted to focus on handling labor, but a bunch of paperwork and preventative medical work (none of which ended up making a damn bit of difference, fortunately) kept getting in the way: external fetal monitoring (with a sort of belt around my middle as I lay on my side), and a blood draw and a heparin lock because of some blood pressure problems I had. (A heparin lock is basically a needle into an arm vein with a plastic thingy attached so that in an emergency they can hook an IV up immediately to the plastic thingy, rather than having to find the vein at that time.)
The contractions were getting harder to handle, and I had to moan through them; at one point, fortunately not with a needle going in, I had to vomit for a few minutes. I had imagined that at this stage of labor I would be trying various physical positions and picturing the same mental images that helped me so much when I was in labor having Russell. Instead, I had to lie or sit still on the bed, and there were way too many conversations and distractions to focus mentally. I wasn't angry at anyone in particular, but I did find the situation maddening, and I have to hand it to anyone who can manage an entire unmedicated birth while being restricted like that. The main thing that helped me was looking forward to being released to go to the Jacuzzi down the hall. The other things that helped were David and Ginny's encouragement and massages; our wonderful labor CDs that David and I had made together; the way David would tell me the contraction was easing off (for some reason he could tell this before I could); and letting my frustration out during contractions by growling and beating upon the big rubber birthing ball Ginny had brought and put on the bed for me to lean on as I sat.
Finally, about an hour and a half after we'd arrived at the hospital, I was done with being needled and monitored and was cleared for heading off down the hall to the Jacuzzi. Phew!
So at 11:45 a.m., I staggered out into the hall with David, Ginny, and Karla, barely able to stand when the contractions hit. In the Jacuzzi room, Karla checked my cervix again at 11:57 to see how I was progressing, and told us I was 5-6 cm. Nevertheless, I heard her whisper urgently to Ginny to get her RIGHT AWAY if I showed any signs of needing to push; then she charged out to go call the on-call doctor from my doctor's practice, I think. She also got a wheelchair (!) to leave outside the Jacuzzi room just in case.
I then had a really massive contraction before more or less falling into the tub. The hot water felt unbelievably good; for the first time in at least an hour, I was actually able to truly relax between the contractions. I had a sudden surge of confidence and energy, and felt that now I was going to be able to really focus on working with my body to give birth. Along came another contraction, but I wasn't scared of it this time; with my labor CD and Jacuzzi I could handle anything!
The next contraction, though, felt different... really intense and low in my abdomen. REALLY REALLY low. "Julie, do you feel an urge to push?" asked Ginny. I didn't want to answer, because I was thinking (roughly), "Oh HELL! If I say yes, they're going to make me get out of the Jacuzzi!" But it was so obviously true that I had to admit it.
There followed a huge blur of activity. For the next few minutes, I was too caught up in labor to be aware of who was where doing what, but we pieced it together later. Ginny went dashing down the hall to get Karla, who came rushing back with her, saying she would check my dilation. When Karla came in and saw me going through the next contraction, complete with pushing and moaning, she said, "Forget it! We have to get her out of there!" and started shouting at me, "Julie, you need to get out of the tub! You have to get out of the tub NOW!" as I yelled back, "I CAN'T!" I was considering adding, "MAKE ME!" (hey, I was in labor) when she added, "IT'S NOT SAFE FOR THE BABY!" That sunk in as the contraction was fading off a little, and with their help I staggered out of the tub and into the wheelchair. Somebody tossed a towel or something over me, and somehow as we whisked off down the hall they collected another nurse and the only doctor on the floor at that time.
Back in the hospital room, they cranked the bed down in record time and somehow got me onto it, while I was having what felt like continuous contractions that cycled from painful to alien-taking-over-my-body. Right after they bundled me onto the bed, my water broke (exploded was more like it). Labor was overwhelming at this point, and I felt like things were completely running away from me and that I couldn't possibly go through this much longer. I was terrified that perhaps I wasn't really at the pushing stage and would have hours more of this kind of pain. But I also grasped that all these professionals really expected that this baby was about to be BORN, and part of me believed it too and felt exhilarated. Then through the blur I heard someone say "complete!" and I knew that at least I had reached the magic 10 cm point. Karla quickly introduced the O.B. (Dr. Alice Weaver) as the doctor who would be delivering the baby; she looked kind and amazingly unruffled.
I could feel the next big push coming and cried out something about being scared of tearing. Ginny tried to help me push slowly and release energy with puffs of breath so I'd be less likely to tear, but I felt like I couldn't stand to have the baby where it was and had to get it out NOW. Dr. Weaver must have perceived what I wanted to hear, and said in a calm, almost conversational tone, "Go ahead and push if you want to." So I did, twice, and felt the baby's head come out, and on the next push, he was born into David's waiting hands!
It was 12:13 p.m., only 16 minutes after the nurse had checked me and found me to be at 5-6 centimeters. Everything had happened so fast it had almost felt like a movie, not our real lives. But there he was, born at last, indisputably a real, honest-to-god BABY... Silas Loren Wright.
When they put Silas in my arms, I was amazed at how tiny he was, much much smaller than Russell had been, I was sure... but in fact he was 8 lb 6.5 oz, 21 inches, with a 14 inch head, compared to Russell's 8 lb 13 oz, 21.25 in, 13.5 in. His Apgar scores were 9 and 9 (meaning he was healthy and vigorous). He was covered with vernix (that waxy white stuff) and had lots of brown hair on his head, and wrinkly little hands and feet with long nails. He cried some before dozing off to recover from his big experience.
I did tear some during delivery and needed stitches, but it was only a first-degree tear (not through muscle), and hurt much less than the second-degree one I had last time.
My favorite memory from the whole day was when Russell came to visit with Metta and Roger. His face was lit up with the most beautiful smile I've ever seen; he was just so thrilled to see the "tiny baby". He has been so, so sweet to Silas and to us; he loves helping and taking care of the baby. I know there will be sibling issues ahead, but for now it has been wonderful.
We got to bring Silas home late the next afternoon, after they'd checked and cleared us both (especially my blood pressure). My physical recovery has been a lot easier than it was after Russell's birth, and I've been able to leave the house to do things since that first day home. Of course, it helps enormously that David is doing so much of the work and that our friends and family have been terrific about cooking for us and playing with Russell.
THANK YOU to everyone who's helped welcome this new baby into the world, by helping us all during and after the pregnancy and birth, being happy with us, and/or reading this story!