The following is an overly detailed account of the day Rhett was born. I wrote most of it the week following his birth, but then school and Christmas demanded most of my child-free computer time. The little guy is a smiling 11-week-old chub now, but better late than never!
After a week of contractions that subsided when I stopped moving, we settled for an induction scheduled on Thursday, October 1st. I felt a little guilty to be forcing this baby into the world, but in light of our doctor's schedule, Andrew's patient schedule, and the fact my in-laws could only come help with the boys that weekend before leaving town, our time frame won out. Sorry baby.
I called the hospital at 5:00 AM as instructed, only to hear they had no beds available, and to call back at 8:30. I grabbed an extra hour of sleep (which made 4 and a half total - too many nerves. I wanted to have the baby, just not HAVE the baby, ya know?), got up with Andrew and curled my hair (am I the only one who tries to look pretty when they go to the hospital? You know it will be a very documented day, so go looking like the induction you are, by golly. Not someone who loved their baby enough to let it come naturally). Oddly, or not at all - both boys slept in for the first and last school morning ever, and had to be awoken. The ONE time we were already up. Still shaking my head.
I got Asher ready for school, then called the hospital back. "No room in the inn." Popular time to have a baby...what was happening 9 months ago? They said if I hadn't heard from them by 12:30, to call back then. Oi. 4 hours? My in-laws had come in the night before and our bags were packed, so in order to make use of our time, Andrew and I went to run errands. I wanted to start walking, since that was the only thing that seemed to move affairs along, and I had intentionally taken it easy to help ensure things were kept on hold until this day. But since the day had come, I headed to TJMaxx to make a return and shop around to stay moving while Andrew got a haircut next door.
Quick snap to document the final hours of pregnancy
Andrew bought me a dress and a couple pairs of shoes from Payless for $34 total. He lovingly told me I was "milking it" and I told him he was lucky I was so cheap. We headed home to regroup, then went to lunch at Chipolte with Joey, Kim and Preston. Andrew and I didn't have much of an appetite (way out of the ordinary for us), so just nibbled on some chips and guac. I force fed myself a few bites of chicken quesadilla, remembering the hospital's militant no-snacking rule. We finished up, and as we were walking out at 12:23, I got the call. Woohoo!! We kissed Preston goodbye, gave Joey and Kim parking lot hugs and headed to the hospital.
We got in and rolling around 1:00. A little paper work, a geometric print "gown" to put on, and an IV placed with a needle the size of a smoothie straw. Our nurse's name was Becky...she had 3 boys as well. She asked us about names and we started writing options out on the white board. Becky mentioned her grandson's name was "Atlas" and my jaw dropped. This was the very name I'd been trying to sell Andrew on for the last few weeks! This was the sign from heaven we'd been awaiting!!! Andrew chuckled at the coincidence and still said no.
Pitocin started, waiting for contractions to ramp up. Lots of texts and calls to curious friends and family. Andrew got some work done on his new iPad the practice had just given him. I sent him to get ice chips and popsicles and begged to be snuck mini vanilla wafers I'd packed. That rule-keeping man was pretty withholding, a fact I slightly resented at the time, but was grateful for later.
Sometime around 5:00, Dr. Graves (who had 6 deliveries happening that day) came in and broke my water. Lots of towels, lots of waiting. Epidural came next. I sure love those things. The whiskey and leather strap of yesteryear would be so proud at how far we've come.
And then more waiting. My progression seemed slow. The next shift of nurses came in and I started to wonder if the baby would actually be born the next day. My step mom came to hang out with us, and my in-laws popped in before leaving to take the boys home at 8:30. Around 9:25 my nurse told me I was almost a 7 and then said she'd be back to check me again in an hour or so. This seemed like a long time to wait, but we sat there patiently watching my contractions on the monitor. I started feeling them and wondered if the epidural needed a boost.
When my nurse came back just after 10, she started setting up the room for delivery. Dr. Graves came back in and we learned I was her very last mama to deliver. Things were really casual at this point - since the doctor was there, contractions were close, we decided to do a practice push to see if the baby's head would descend any. There were two nurses and the doctor there. I gave a half push and the doctor yelled, "WAIT!" I looked at a surprised but excited Andrew who told me he could see the baby's head. What? Okay!
Dr. Graves scrambled to put on her delivery garb. A crowd of staff came rushing into the room. Our baby was crowning and I'd been instructed to "wait"...easier shouted than done. I mustered a stale smile in an attempt to mask the tremendous pressure I was feeling. In what was probably only 30 seconds, we were able to give another push and our beautiful baby boy was here. It took him a minute to cry, but he looked perfect. 7 pounds, 11 ounces, 19.5 inches - the dark haired baby I'd always dreamed we'd have! ...no offense to my previously born, lighter haired children.
Someone asked what his name was and Andrew and I looked at each other - we both seemed to know what we'd agreed on most, and Andrew let me say it - "Rhett Davis Steele."
