Time is already slipping away from me, must faster than it did with Char. I’m not sure if that’s because now I know how fast it goes, or if it’s because I don’t have the downtime during the day like I did when I had Charlotte. Either way, these kids are growing too big, too fast. I don’t want to forget, so here are the details.
Jameson, this is the story of the day you were born.
I had gone to bed with contractions that only lasted an hour the night before. At 3:14 on September 8th, they woke me up from a sound sleep. I didn’t wake Ben, worrying it would be for naught, and watched The League on Netflix and timed them.
They were 5 minutes apart for 1 hour, so I called Labor and Delivery. The nurse told me to eat something light, take a hot shower, and come into the hospital. Shaking, I called my mom, called my sister to come over and stay with Char. I ate a protein bar, enjoyed my last hot shower as a mom of only 1 child, packed my Seinfeld DVDs and Ben and I drove 45 minutes, in high spirits to the hospital. Today was the day.
After being checked in, my midwife confirmed I was at 4cm and told me to walk the halls but she was going to admit me. I was so glad I was going to leave the hospital with a baby and without swollen ankles or a 50 pound belly.
And then the contractions stopped.
They didn’t totally stop, but I only had them if I was walking. Which meant I wasn’t in active labor. My doctor wasn’t on that night, but by the time there were decisions to be made, she was going to be there soon. This was one of the most difficult things about the entire delivery: deciding to go home with the possibility of coming back later, or to stay and essentially opt for elective induction. After talking (at length) about it, Ben and I decided to go for induction. My body just needed the nudge and when you have other kids (and available babysitters) to consider, the choice almost made itself.
I lose all track of time at this point, but essentially it went down like this: We were admitted to the same room for delivery (room 22) as when I had Charlotte. A good omen for sure. I was started on Pitocin, and about an hour or so later I got an epidural when I was at 6 or 7cm. The contractions seemed much more manageable with Jameson than they did with Charlotte, or so I thought up until that point. I was so excited to get the epidural, since it was so amazing with Charlotte. No pain at all, just pressure and I could feel to push. As soon as my regular OB broke my water, I could tell this was going to be different. Almost immediately I could feel pressure. Not just pressure but PRESSURE. My doc left and the nurse told me to let her know if I felt any increasing pressure. This was at about 4:15. At 4:30 (almost right after everything had been cleaned up from breaking my water and everyone had left the room), I tried as best I could to break up the conversation between my husband and my dad without yelling that Ben needed to go get the nurse. I could tell sweet baby James was making his way down. And fast.
My nurse checked me and went out to page my OB and get the delivery table. WHAT. At this point I was confident in our decision to stay, since it seems the kid would have been delivered on the freeway if we had gone home and my water had broken on it’s own.
A little later I was cleared to push. The pressure was intense and starting to get painful, something I did not expect. Sparing you the gory details, I pushed for a while with everyone telling me to push harder. I could tell I wasn’t making progress. I’m not sure if this is how it is at other hospitals, but at mine the pediatric nurse comes in when delivery is very close so they can be there to help with the baby right after it’s born. They are a pretty good indicator that baby will be out of you soon. All hope was gone when that nurse (who had been in the room for a good 30 minutes), finally left the room and told me I was “Doing really well, not long now!” I knew she was leaving because it was going to be a while longer. I absolutely did not want to be doing this anymore. And that was around the time my doctor told me Jameson was “sunny side up.” Click that link if you aren’t aware of what that means, because it was the reason the epidural didn’t feel like it was working. It was definitely working, but Jameson’s position made the pain/pressure even worse than it was supposed to be. I wanted this kid out. NOW.
Centimeter by tiny, painful centimeter, Jameson made his way down and out. And looked like a Conehead baby for a little while.
Jameson Magnus Britt
September 8, 2014
7lbs 15 oz