The Story of Calvin’s Birth

Wow.

While there were some definite similarities between  Gwyneth’s birth and the birth of Calvin, there were some crazy differences.

I am just going to jump right in.

We arrived at the hospital at 6:30 am, as instructed to do by the phone call we received the night before. We routinely checked into our room, put away our things in “just the right places,” I changed into my birthing gown and got into the bed.

My doctor arrived at 7:30, just as expected, and she broke my water. She also informed me that I was currently between 5-5.5 cm dilated. And for some reason, I once again thought I would have a plethora of time to kill before the “work” started.

So, The Hubby and I played backgammon, one of our favorites. I KILLED him in the first game! Like, skunked! We always play two out of three, so as we started the second game, my nurse came in and made sure to tell The Hubby that the laboring one should always win.

Well. Ha. Nurse doesn’t know my hubby!

He went on to win game two, and in fact creaming me this time.

The contractions were picking up now, but I couldn’t leave this battle unfinished, so on to round three we went. It was neck and neck the entire time. I was in the lead. He was in the lead. Back and forth, back and forth. Me. Him! Me! HIM!

Who pulled it off in the end just before going into hardcore labor??

This girl!!! Victorious!

My nurse would come in and check on me every so often and ask on a scale of 1-10 where my pain level was at, showing me the picture below.

“Compared to what!?” was all I could think. Nothing compares to this sort of pain…

She then asked me where on the scale I didn’t want the pain to get before wanting pain relief.

“Well…. I definitely don’t want to be crying…” I told her.

I realize now I had a difficult time throughout labor relaying to the nurse where my pain level was at using this scale, which really wasn’t very helpful to anyone. I just couldn’t wrap my mind around it. If I say 4, does that mean I am only experiencing half of the pain that I am about to experience later? If I say 7 and have a long way to go, I couldn’t say many higher numbers when asked next…

So, I believe the highest number I ever said was a 5. That’s pretty safe…. right? Ha. I just didn’t know.

The Hubby then got into “coaching mode” and helped me get through each contraction by rubbing/pressing on the area on my forehead right in-between my eyes. Strangely, this really helped me last time and was proving to do the same again. He also rubbed my lower back, and this combination was my recipe for success.

The next time I was checked by my nurse I was dilated to a 7, almost 8. About a minute or so after I was checked, the pain became excruciating and I didn’t know how much more I could handle. Because I was told that I would probably dilate approximately 1.5 cm per hour, I thought I’d have at least another hour experiencing this intensity, so I told The Hubby that I might want an epidural soon. The Hubby told this to the nurse, and she said she’d get the IV ready in case I decided to get one.

Well, before she even left the room, I yelled out, “He’s coming!” And sure enough, I was fully dilated and he was, in fact, coming.

Too late for any sort of pain relief.

My doctor wasn’t there. The equipment wasn’t ready yet. And I was told I needed to wait as nurses began scurrying about the room.

Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Okay? This is like telling someone to hold in explosive diarrhea. Sick, I know, but that’s the only comparison that seems to even remotely come close…. though even that is sooooooo far off.

This is when the nurse had me take quick, short breaths to help me to keep from pushing. Consequently, this made me begin to hyperventilate, as my arms and hands became extremely tingly and my body started to shake. I was then instructed to take long, deeper breaths.

“I need to push! He’s coming!” I anxiously repeated.

“No, no… not yet!” the nurse exclaimed while dashing about.

I have NO idea how much time passed during this phase. My hubby guesses a solid 5-10 minutes. During this time The Hubby was running back and forth from me to the fridge, getting cold wash cloths for my head while continuing to rub and coach me through it all.

FINALLY, my doctor flew into the room, threw on a pair of gloves and told me I could start pushing. The nurse told her if she had hit one more stoplight, she would have missed it.

Because I labored on my side the entire time, I had a death grip on the side of the bed and had an extremely difficult time letting go and turning onto my back. Once I was turned, my hubby was on one side, a nurse on the other, and I was told I would need to put my legs deep into my chest in order to push.

Again, extremely difficult for me to do. I was stiff as a board.

After some coaxing I got into position and was again given the go-ahead. With the first push out popped his head.

WHAT!? Really!? It took me nearly 5 hours of pushing to get Gwyneth’s head out last time… this was insane!

On to push number two and out came his shoulders. This is when I heard the doctor exclaim that the cord was wrapped around his neck. Twice. So I had to ease up long enough for her to unwrap it, and I then continued with that push (“Oh ****, there’s that ring of fire I heard about!”) and out he came!

That wasn’t the only thing that came out, though.

Luckily, The Hubby has quick reflexes because he had to duck and cover as a gush of fluid flew past his head.  He didn’t escape without being hit though, as the right side of his shirt took a few splatters. The chair behind him though?

Yeah, that had to be removed from the room for professional cleaning as the nurses laughed in disbelief carrying it out.

SERIOUSLY! Two pushes!?!? I couldn’t believe it. There was our son, born at 9:20 am, laying on my chest looking right into my eyes.

Emotional me took over while The Hubby cut the umbilical cord.

Because the little guy came shooting out, he did come into the world with a bruised little face, but that’s all healing nicely now.

The rest was pretty standard from there. A wipe down from the nurses, the weighing, the various tests from the doctor to make sure he was okay, etc.

So, while some things were similar to Gwyneth’s birth, for the most part, it was incredibly different. I MUCH prefer how things went this time around!

We are all doing great so far and are adjusting to our new family of four! I’ll be sure to post soon about the rest of our experience in the hospital, including how Miss Gwyneth responded to her new brother.

Thank you all again for your prayers and support!