catnip and coffee

So getting to the hospital and early labor are truly a blur now. All I know is that for hours I rocked, and walked, and talked, but never dilated past 3. I know dh watched a lot of CNN. Then I got some pitocin to move things along. Idiot me refused the epidural, “for now” I said. By the time I was begging for the epidural, the contractions were so close and strong the anesthesiologist could barely find a quiet moment to stick it in. It’s funny how clearly I remember that part.

After the epi, of course, I could no longer get out of bed. Numb legs and that pesky catheter kind of get in the way of walking. So I laid there and complained, and contracted, whined, and contracted. And dh held my hand and watched some more CNN. I didn’t even let him leave for food.

So, remember that whole need to get the kid out within 24 hours of your water breaking? Well, that’s due to the risk of infection. So a few hours sixteen hours after my wake up call, I was still only at 7cm, exhausted, baby’s heart rate was starting to get a little depressed, and I’m pretty sure I was screaming “just get it out of me.” We all decided the best course of action was a c-section.

Yep, another cesarean statistic. Well, I’m glad we made that decision, because as we discovered, he would never would have come out the other way with his head positioned wrong. The only bad part about the surgery was when the nurse didn’t bring dh into the operating room until after they had sliced me open. And he had to walk right by the carnage to get behind the curtain. Oops.

In any case, the boy, (a boy? wait! we were so sure it was a girl!) was born at 4:30pm March, 20, 2003. Happy birthday sweetie!