Mommy out West: Cyrus Dean's Birth Story

5:15 am-arrive at hospital

6:15 am-start pitocin. This is the point where the trouble started. An hour into it. Yeah, I know. My doctor came in to check my cervix and break my water but could not reach my water with his giant sterile crochet hook. I mean, nothing. He said he would come back after the pitocin had done some work and hopefully break it.

10:15 am- My doctor returned to attempt another break but beforehand he informed me that if I was still at only a 2 and if my water was still too high he would need to send me home. He said, "you can come back Saturday when I'm here all day to keep an eye on you. If I force induction today and your baby ends up being too big to fit through the canal (yes, this was a real issue based on my Monday sono) then you will have had a very long, exhausting day that ends in c-section that I won't be here for because it will likely be in the middle of the night." I guess the look on my face was absolute horror because after he checked me, I was at a 3 and he was able to break my water, my nurse said, "I'm glad you get to stay and have the baby today. You looked so upset when he was telling you to wait until Saturday!" I totally respect and trust my doctor, so I would have done what he said was best. But I'm so glad he broke my water because it's against policy to send a woman home after her water is broken for fear of infection. *evil laugh*

Soon my contractions were very painful and I was inclined to stand up and try swaying and shifting my weight to relieve some pressure. The bed was an incredibly painful place to contract because it was so firm. Sometimes I "slow danced" with Texan and he kissed my shoulder. His prickly beard felt like a nice distraction to the piercing pain. Other times I leaned on a swivel chair and said, "ouch ouch ouch." But really, with the pitocin making my contractions so close together and so long, I wasn't able to bear it for very long. The nurse came in and asked how I was a couple times and I told her I wanted to have my cervix checked before getting the epidural. With Scarlett's labor I feared the Epi would slow me down, so I labored for 12 hours before getting it. But this time I knew that it actually would help me to relax and not fight the pain and possibly I would progress faster or at the same speed. The next time I was checked I was still a 3 so I took the Epi around 1:15. My nurse checked me about an hour after my doctor and she said he was stingy with his numbers and I was actually at a 4. Since she had been checking me much more often I trusted her opinion because she had a better grasp on remembering how it had felt more recently. She was so encouraging and said I shouldn't be discouraged. She was happy with my progress and once I was at a 5 she would consider me in active labor. Unfortunately shift change came around 7 and she left, leaving me with a new nurse. I was soon at a 6 and my epidural began to lose its impact on my pain levels. My nurse said it probably just needed to lay on my left side to allow gravity to adjust the direction of the meds. That didn't work, and I told her I was ok with the pain as long as it meant I could have a baby faster. I was at a 6 at this point. She pressed the button to release more meds and called anesthesia. The anesthesiologist was so sweet and maternal. She told me I needed to be comfortable and she wanted to make sure I was able to feel the contractions without being in agony. She added more meds and soon I was able to relax.

My dad and Texan went to get ice cream at Braums and I lowered the lights and tried to nap. But soon after they returned the pain was back. My lower abdomen was on fire. I clung to the rails of the bed and tried to breathe. My nurse said I was an 8 and anesthesia upped my meds again to get me to a 10. I wasn't breathing very well because it was so painful to inhale. I threw up from the pain. Soon enough my pain subsided enough and before we knew it I was 10. The on-call doctor was so sweet with white hair and cartoon eyes. He came In right away with a team of nurses and the giant lights were turned on. I remember with Scarlett my nurse allowed me to start pushing before ever calling anyone or turning on any lights. My doctor only came in to pull her out and stitch me up. But this time I had a room full before I even began pushing. Earlier in the day I had told the doctor that pushing was my favorite part. I had pushed for 35 minutes with Scarlett and it was actually enjoyable. Exhausting but enjoyable. He looked at me like I had a third eye and admitted he had never heard anyone say that in all of his (36) years as an OB." So there we were, at my favorite part. I just wanted the pain in my abdomen to stop, and as soon as my legs were raised it disappeared. I was in heaven. The doctor said whenever I felt a contraction start I could push. Then we waited for what felt like an eternity because they had turned off my Pitocin a few minutes before so I could contract at my own pace...everyone staring at me...not my most modest hour. Telling the story after to my mom, Kyle informed me it was less than 10 seconds we had waited. But it felt more like 10 minutes at the time. On my first push the doctor said, "a little cone head!" I couldn't believe his head was showing in one push. On the next push Texan said, "He has hair!" The next push they told me the shoulders were almost out. I managed to say, "I'm so excited!" between breaths. It was a total of 5 pushes in maybe 3-5 minutes and he was in my arms. I hugged him and kissed his slimy head and smelled his sweet skin and drank in the moment while Texan snapped lots of pictures of the precious first moments I held our son. I love all the pictures he took because they capture so much joy and exhaustion on my face. The first glimpse I got of him as Texan cut the cord was tear-filled because of the amount of hair he had. I totally lost it when I saw that matted down hair. I had prayed that he would have hair but knowing it was kind of on the shallow end of the prayer spectrum, I was shocked to see God has provided a sweet layer of dark brown hair for my boy. He always faithfully answers my prayers, showing his love for my own desires no matter how trivial they seem. I so enjoy washing and combing it. It is definitely my favorite feature of his right after his perfect nose. There is nothing on earth like delivering a healthy child to make me praise God for who he is. Cyrus actually arrived on the same day I was induced, unlike his sister, and for that I was so thankful. We did skin-to-skin and nursed for the first hour of his life, then invited my dad back to hold him before heading up to our recovery room and passing out in blissful exhaustion. Cyrus slept and slept and nursed only a handful of times during our entire 36-hour hospital stay. That time doesn't include the 16 hour labor, of course. I was told to wake him and feed him a few times but I never did. And I am so glad I let him (and myself) sleep. Because at 72 hours old my boy discovered cluster feeding and sometime after midnight Sunday night my milk was in. It was a tiring night but so enjoyable. I caught up on Downton while the whole house slept. I adore these quiet moments of him clinging to me and needing me. He is my perfect blessing.