Welcome MDG

There are a million things to say about the last two weeks, so I'll start at the very beginning.

I woke up in a foul mood.  Perhaps it was the rocky sleep from the night before.  Most likely it was everything on my mind that I mentioned in the last post.

J-Man, Mama H and I headed out early for my 6:30 induction.  Of course, because no birth story can be without surprises, we arrived to find that there were no empty beds. In retrospect, I took the news pretty well.  I simply wouldn't accept that the baby wasn't coming that day.  Period.  So as they hooked me up to some monitors in triage and did all the question-asking, I stayed calm.

By 10:30 I was in my own room and had been told that I was barely at a one, despite what the doctor the week before had told me (maybe she had tiny fingers?) so they wouldn't start pitocin until they started some other gel first.  It started with a p, or maybe a d?  Anyway, it got things moving.  J-Man and Mama H stayed by my side as the contractions picked up.

At 2pm Dr. M (who delivered PDG) came in to break my water.  I was more nervous this time since I hadn't yet gotten my epidural.  To my surprise, it wasn't so bad.  I might've taken it a bit too well though, since when I asked my nurse about 15 minutes later if I could get my epidural yet, the doctor responded to her "not yet."

The next two hours were pretty awful.  Sure it had taken me 3.5 hours to get from 1cm to 3cm but with the way those contractions were coming - faster and faster and stronger and stronger - I knew progress was happening unlike before.  I practically had to beg to eventually get the epidural.  Was it just that Dr. M. wanted me to know what the whole can't-walk-or-talk-through contraction felt like?  Because I learned.  And my body kept teaching me every 2-3 minutes.

At 3:51 I signed for my epidural and after what felt like an eternity (but probably wasn't) a questionable anesthesiologist administered it.  She also told me I might have mild scoliosis.  Ok.  Sure.  Maybe.  But is now the time to tell me?  Weird.

When that experience was over my nurse, Carlee (who was great) added the pitocin and the contraction-o-meter started to go off the charts.  Which would've been fine, if, just maybe, the epidural had kicked in right away.  But, next surprise, it hadn't.  So despite getting a cute tingle in my legs, my abdomen still felt every single tightening for the next long while.

Carlee had checked me around 4:30 and told me I was at an 8, but by 5:15 or so I was pretty sure I had to be complete.  She fiddled with a catheter and did some things on my chart as I finally started to get a little pain relief.  Maybe that's why I wasn't more annoyed that yet again it felt like no one was listening.

I told her I wanted to push so at 5:40 she checked again and said, "oh, yeah, his head is right here." So much for a catheter

J-Man asked, "so this baby should come in the next couple hours?" remembering the 2.5 hour pushing marathon from PDG's delivery.

"He might be here by 6" she answered, and stuff got real.

Despite the annoyances of the morning and early afternoon, I was finally in less pain and able to focus on the beautiful task at hand.  With J-Man on one side, Mama H on the other, and Carlee giving me encouragement, I started pushing just before 6pm.  Unlike before, I could feel what my body was doing each step of the way.  I was fully aware when my doctor - now Dr. S due to a shift change - came in and began suiting up.  I noticed when the other nurses entered.  I could listen and adapt as Dr. S told me to hold or push again.  And in a few slow motion moments I was able to witness as this tiny son of mine entered the world.  First his small, squished, perfect head, suctioned and crying, then his neck and shoulders, wrapped once by his umbilical cord, and finally the rest of his purple, wiggly, perfect body.

I was focused as they lay his precious body right on top of mine, and as my J-Man once again cut the cord.

I felt his tiny hands, his tiny feet, and thanked God that I was once again an agent in a miracle.

I don't think I've ever felt as empowered and meant to do something as I did during those 25 minutes of pushing.  Just the night before I had doubted my body.  But right then, as our Malcolm Davis came into the world, I couldn't have felt more proud of it.

Eventually they took him to the other side of the room to quickly measure and weigh him - 7lbs even 19inches - but quickly they returned him to my chest to nurse and snuggle with his mama.

Since then, MDG has proven to be very little like his big brother aside from looks.  He has us guessing every day, and night, but one thing is for sure: he is absolutely who is supposed to be in our family.  He belongs here. Right here. With his Mama G, his Papa G, and his big brother PDG.

We couldn't feel more complete.  I couldn't feel more in love.

Me and my three G boys.  Let the adventures as a family of four begin