It was four days past his due date, and we were more than ready for him to arrive. With each day that passed, because of Jonathan’s work schedule, Jonathan lost more quality time with the baby. We had talked about induction, and I was very hesitant because most of the stories with induction I had heard included long labors that often ended in C-sections. But Jonathan did some research and found that it really depends on how ready your cervix is to deliver. I went to the doctor the next day, and he confirmed that I was already almost 3 cm dilated and 70% effaced and the baby’s head had descended as well. He was very comfortable with going ahead and inducing me, given that my cervix was “ripe” and the baby seemed to be a good size.
So we scheduled induction for the next day. It was a weird feeling knowing that it was coming. Jonathan and I both had some freak-out moments where the reality of the fact that we would soon have a baby sunk in. It was bizarre setting your alarm clock for a major life change. We had to be there at 5:30 a.m. – what if we overslept?
We arrived bright and early on Tuesday morning. It struck me the day before that this would be my first overnight stay in a hospital and my first IV, and oh yeah, my first labor and delivery. I checked in, and we started getting settled in our room. At St. Vincent’s, where we delivered, you do labor, delivery and recovery in the same room. And normally the baby stays with you there as well.
I had the most trouble with getting the IV and giving the blood sample they take. I normally have this reaction to giving/losing blood. I get light-headed and nauseous, which happened then as well. After an hour or so my doctor came in and broke my water, which was not what I expected. It was more like a steady drip than a gush. They set me up with Pitocin, as well. My labor and delivery nurse was great. She was very calm and walked me through things very well. My contractions began, but I didn’t really feel them – Jonathan and Nurse Sharon had to tell me when they were happening. They said they were pretty strong, but I still wasn’t in a lot of pain. Then the anesthesiologist came in to give me my epidural. He walked Jonathan through the procedure so it was education as well. We were concerned at first he wouldn’t give me one because my platelet count was low, but it was close enough.
(Our hospital bracelets)
Around 1 p.m., Dr. Stone came in to check my progress. I was shocked when he told me I was fully dilated and ready to start pushing! I hadn’t felt anything, so I really didn’t believe him. But the pushing began. Jonathan and the nurse were there coaching me. It was tricky at first figuring out how to push because I couldn’t feel anything in my lower half. Luckily I had been practicing my Kegels, and employed the one useful piece of information from watching Baby Story episodes: don’t push with your face. It was a little frustrating towards the end because I would push and then look at Jonathan’s face afterward. Even though he was trying really hard to be supportive, I could always tell when I hadn’t made much progress.
(By the way, watching all that Baby Story totally threw off my expectations of the experience. I think they must only chose natural childbirth people for those shows because my pain was nothing like that or anything you see in the movies. I described my pain in childbirth as “unbiblical.”)
Altogether the pushing lasted about three hours. The funniest part of the pushing portion was when Parker decided he wanted the full experience and decided to peek his head in the delivery room. Of course I jest about him actually desiring this – apparently no one in the waiting room knew I had actually started pushing, so Parker came in to get an update and nearly got more than he bargained for! It was potentially traumatic, but he didn’t see anything too graphic, so it’s just a laughable moment now.
Around 3 p.m., they called the doctor in for my final pushes. They were definitely the hardest. I was starting to feel a little, but not bad, just enough to know how to push better. It was just a little tiring. Dr. Stone asked me at the end if I wanted an episiotomy. I hadn’t really made that decision prior, and didn’t have time to discuss the positives and negatives with him, so I just kept pushing. I only had a little tearing – second degree. he said.
At 3:19 p.m., Josiah made his grand entrance. Despite knowing that I had been growing a life for nine months, it still surprised me when he came out. A whole other human being had just exited my body. We had a son. They placed him on top of me and I got to met this little one. He’s so familiar to me now, but then he was so new: so this is what you look like. Nice to finally meet you.
We were all surprised by how much he weighed. The doctor had predicted the mid-7 range, and I wasn’t that big still. And so long! No wonder his feet were always in my rib cage. They cleaned him and me up, and we wanted to start trying to breastfeed, but they said that his breathing was too fast. The nurses said they give babies four hours to adjust to breathing, but after that he would have to go to the NICU. Honestly, I was very optimistic. I never really believed they would actually take my baby away. I just knew his breathing would slow down.
Jonathan, Josiah and I had a few minutes alone together as a family for the first time. We just sat there staring at this precious little guy. It’s really unbelievable how quickly the mother/father instincts kick in. What a gift from God – who knew we could so quickly love someone we’d never met before.
Then the families came in. I got really emotional when I saw my mom and my brother. It’s so amazing to introduce people you’ve known for so long to your child for the first time. I was sitting there as a different person: a mother.
And finally the sad moment came when the neonatologist came in to tell us Josiah would be in the NICU. They gave us a few moments alone with him, and Jonathan and I just cried at the idea they were taking him away. I was still so optimistic that we’d be able to leave the hospital with him, but Jonathan had a better grasp on reality, but thus was completely devastated. It was definitely the saddest I’d ever seen him in my life, and he would confess it was probably his saddest moment.
The rest is documented in the blog. A few other thoughts:
- Although the labor wasn’t as painful as I expected, the recovery was worse. I had no clue how sore or painful or long the process would be. My body had gone through a lot of trauma!
- Through the whole NICU process, I learned a lot about gratitude and God’s character. For a while I thought God was giving us the experience to punish us, but then I remembered that is not the way He acts to those He loves. He might have been disciplining or refining us or He might have had other good, perfect reasons. But because of the grace of Christ, I no longer experience His wrath toward me. Praise God! Although it was hard to have the perspective at the time, we really had/have so much to be grateful for. Josiah is alive and healthy. What if there were no NICUs? What if there weren’t such high quality breast pumps or formula?
- I now have a profound respect for single mothers. I have no clue how they do it.
- Here's the story on the name choice. The biblical character Josiah rocks. Also, Jonathan had a med school colleague who said "You should name your son Josiah because I really like it, but my wife hates it. I want somebody to use it." Jonathan thought: I bet Laura Leigh would like that name (because I liked more unusual names than he did), and I don't mind it. Sure enough, I liked it. We chose Luke because it flowed well, and evened out the Old Testament with the New.
