The arrival of Henry Paul Jespersen

Hank

January 26, 2012, 7:53pm

8 lbs 2 oz, 19 inches

I've been holding out in the hopes that Matt would write the labor story again. His post on Jack's birth is one of my all-time faves and I occasionally go back and read it when I need a good laugh. But Matt is a busy man. And since the poor grandparents have yet to see a picture of their newest grandson, I figure it can't wait any longer. But I'm hopeful that Matt will add his own perspective on the day when he gets a chance.

Wednesday, January 25: I had a doctor's appointment this morning. My midwife said I was 4 cm dilated, 80% effaced, and a -1 station. She said many times that my cervix was "ripe." I found the term rather gross, yet oddly satisfying to be told I was indeed, "ripe." She lectured me on not waiting around too long once labor started since I was nearly half way to 10 cm already. I assured her that waiting around was not in my birth plan. She guessed the baby to be right around 8 pounds. Hearing that I started to wonder if I would like to have my membranes stripped on Friday because having a baby over the weekend would be really convenient before Matt had to get back to teaching his classes. So I made an appointment for Friday morning for the membrane stripping procedure.

Thursday, January 26: I woke up in the middle of the night that night and laid there for awhile and then felt a very mild contraction--so mild that I wasn't really sure what it was. But I checked the clock. It was 4:40 am. At 4:50 I felt another one. I had several ten minutes apart and then all of a sudden had a few that were only 6 minutes apart. They were not strong by any means but I just laid there completely still with my eyes wide open, afraid that moving would cause them to pick up. You see, Matt's only concern was that he would be able to teach his class on Thursday morning. If he didn't go we wouldn't get paid and we really needed him to get paid. So when he left for work I gave him the lecture the midwife had given me and told him if they started to pick up he would have to come home immediately.

Throughout the morning they started to pick up a little in intensity but certainly not what I knew was coming. But they were very sporadic. I'd have one 12 minutes apart, 6 minutes, 10 minutes, 4 minutes, etc. I had never had that happen before. With the other labors my contractions started far apart and gradually got closer and closer together. So Matt was able to teach his whole class. I even let him go to the gym to work out. I ran to the store and got milk since we were out. We were able to let Jack take a nap. I kept debating on walking on the treadmill. I figured it might get the contractions going a bit harder but I was so tired that I kept trying to rest, being woken up every few minutes by a contraction. I started to get really tired of it and had the idea that maybe since I was already 4 cm, and hopefully more dilated at that point, that the on-call midwife would say I could go into triage to be checked, then if I had progressed at all she would break my water and we could have the baby before the middle of the night. But my phone call was a bust. The midwife told me to tell myself that I was not going to have the baby today. She told me to take a warm bath and try to get some rest. And instructed me to wait until the contractions were consistently 3-5 minutes apart before coming in. I was so annoyed. But about 3:00 I could tell they were strong enough that I couldn't talk or walk through them and I figured it was going to happen. By 4:30 they were about 3 mins and 45 secs apart. I said it was time. We loaded up the kids and took them to Sharon's and then drove to the hospital.

Triage was full when we got there so we had to wait 30 minutes before being seen. The pain wasn't as bad as I had experienced with the others yet, so I was starting to get nervous we wouldn't be admitted. We went in to triage at 5:30. I was 6 cm and they said they definitely wouldn't send me home. We moved from triage to the main room. This was the first time I got an epidural before feeling like I really needed it, but I didn't dare stray from my birth plan. (Which only included: get there early enough for an epidural). So I was actually able to feel all those weird back sensations as the anesthesiologist put in my epidural at around 6:00. That weirded me out a bit, but within no time I was nice and relaxed and quite giddy. Matt and I were having a blast. The midwife came in and said she couldn't believe it when she was told I had progressed to a 6. She was nothing like I feared after our phone call. She was very personable and we laughed a lot together. Like, Matt and I made fun of her for liking things like placenta prints, and she joked right along with us. My nurse also added to the fun and said she hoped that she could be put on our detail until 4 in the morning.



At 6:30 I was already 8 cm and the midwife broke my water. I looked at the little clear plastic bed thing lined with blankets and couldn't believe my baby would soon be in there. It was so exciting. I was even saying things like, "Birth is awesome!" At 7:30 I was almost 10 cm and at about 7:40 I did a test push. That's when the atmosphere in the room changed quickly. I was given an oxygen mask and about 3 other nurses/doctors came into the room. I was recalling feelings of Jane's birth when the atmosphere was the same. With my bad ear and the loud oxygen mask I could hardly hear anything. I managed to find out that the baby's heartbeat was not reacting well to the pushing. The midwife said, "It's ok, we just have to get him out now."

I hate that feeling-knowing the baby needs to come out and that you're the only one that can make it happen. Tears were streaming down my cheeks as I realized how much this baby already meant to me and how much I wanted him to be okay. At 7:45 we got to work. I pushed pretty much back to back to back. He was turned a little so the midwife tried to turn his head correctly while I pushed. He was born at 7:53. His face and hands and feet were so blue. The midwife removed the cord that was wrapped around his neck. It took at least a full 10 seconds before he took a breath or cried or anything. Then he screamed. He cried the loudest cry and just kept crying and crying and crying. They let me hold him immediately and I felt like there was nothing I could do to stop his crying. It felt like forever. Eventually the nurses decided they would like him sent to the nursery to see if they could find out why he was "so irritable."



He calmed down in the nursery but his breathing was rapid and we had to wait until that settled down until we could take him back to our room and try nursing. He was trying to suck on everything in the nursery crib and everyone kept commenting on how hungry he was. Turns out he did want to eat and eat and eat. He had 4 wet diapers his first day--whereas I'm told 1, maybe 2 is normal. The first day I felt like Hank looked so unfamiliar to me. It took him about a full day to open his eyes but once he did I could immediately see the resemblance to baby Jane. We'll have to post some comparison shots.

I was so bored at the hospital that I made sure I got out of there the soonest I could-24 hours after he was born. I absolutely hate trying to sleep in the hospital. The highlight of the hospital stay was having the kids come meet their brother of course. They were very excited. Jack's excitement only lasted a few minutes before the hospital room became more interesting, but Jane was pretty enamored the whole time, and still remains so.




We are so grateful for our sweet baby Hank and his safe arrival. I can't believe how different my last two birth experiences have been compared to the first. In fact, in my euphoria I even said to Matt, shortly after the birth, "I wish I could have a million babies." When I saw the midwife later she said, "Thanks for letting me have so much fun with you guys tonight!" It was just what I had been praying for. Hopefully I can be back soon with pictures and a report on his first week of life.