First things first, his birth story: a day I want to remember forever.
As my pregnancy progressed, Dr. Cook told me and William that we could have an elected induction at 39 weeks. Of course, if there were any medical concerns, he would always do a necessary induction. However, everything was going very smoothly; thank you, Lord. Our due date was the 25th of September, so the earliest we could have this baby would be Monday, the 19th. Dr. Cook suggested an induction on Thursday, the 22nd. However, after being checked that week, and not having progressed at all, we decided to wait. Because our due date, the 25th, was a Sunday, and Dr. Cook was on call, he decided he would try to electively induce us on that day. But, there was a catch. The hospital does not typically do planned inductions on the weekends because they are short staffed and need to be ready for any emergencies or moms that go into labor on their own. We were to call at 6am, Sunday morning, to make sure it was okay for us to come in. If they already had too many patients, we would have to wait until Monday morning. Although, we were super excited to possibly have the baby on the 25th, this uncertainty caused some anxiety. We went to bed Saturday night, excited about the possibility of having our baby boy the next day, but afraid to get our hopes to high, in case we had to wait until Monday. Dr. Cook said it was an 80% chance that we would be able to come in on Sunday.
We set our alarm clock for 6am. Of course we woke up before, about 4:30am, and watched the clock until 6. We called the Labor and Delivery floor, and they said Come On! We were on our way to meet our baby boy.
We arrived at the hospital at 7:30 am. William said we looked like we packed enough to stay two weeks. I packed everything that the teacher of our birth class said to bring, plus a little more. We couldn't believe, as we drove to the hospital, that the next time we were home, we would have a baby! It was a really strange and exciting feeling. The L&D floor was so empty at 6am that they, literally, were standing there waiting to greet us as we came up the hallway. "Are you Mr. and Mrs. Mooney?" they asked. I commented to Bill that it was similar to the greeting we got when we arrived in Jamaica on our honeymoon...minus the champagne. He laughed. Okay, maybe not that similar, but not what we expected.
My mom and sister arrived shortly after and came in the room to visit. We laughed, sissy massaged my hands and feet (so sweet! and she HATES feet), I attempted to read a magazine, and we waited. Dr. Cook arrived and checked me. I was the same: 25% effaced, 1-2 cm dilated.
Julie, my nurse, suggested I get my epidural around 11. I was a little nervous about this, because I knew William couldn't stay in the room with me. Apparently, many husbands pass out during this procedure, and therefore it is policy that they have to leave the room to avoid having two patients on hand. Dr. Meeks placed my epidural. It did not hurt, at all! Julie stood in front of me, holding my hands. At one point, I got clammy. She noticed, and simply talked me through the time it was taking, not the pain.
After the epidural was turned on, Dr. Cook came in to break my water. He explained that after this happened, we would, hopefully, see more progress. My feet and legs were starting to go numb. I was really anxious about this in the weeks leading up. I didn't like the thought of not being able to move my legs on my own...similar to a feeling of being trapped or claustrophobic. There were a few times, throughout the day, that I could feel myself becoming anxious, as my legs got heavier and heavier. However, I continued to tell myself that it was better than the alternative. It never became too much.
The day continued. My dad arrived in the early afternoon. Dot, William's mom, did, too. We waited, anticipating each check from Dr. Cook, praying I was making progress.
Everything was going really well, until William ran out to get some lunch. I was fine, so we thought it was a perfect time for him to grab a bite to eat. He left with his mom. My mom and sister were in the room with me. I noticed Julie was watching the monitor closely. In a matter of seconds, I was rolled onto my side, a group of about 6 nurses hurried in my room, an oxygen mask was placed on my face, and Julie was pushing on my stomach. I was scared. The baby's heart rate had dropped to 80. I don't really know the amount of time that passed, but his heart did resume a normal pace. They assured me everything was okay. Dr. Cook came in and further assured me everything was okay, and that this was relatively normal. But, I was literally shaken up. My teeth were chattering, and my body was trembling. On top of all of this, where was my husband? He walked in a few minutes later, frightened to see the oxygen mask on my face, and extremely upset that he wasn't there. I told him I was okay, and we were left alone in the room to be together for awhile.
I know this is a lot...I will pause here. Stay tuned for Wills' birth story: Part II.
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