It was a typical Monday. Mike was off to work, Ethan was off to school.. I stayed home with every intention to relax but somehow "relaxing" only made me more anxious. I had watched every show on DVR, trolled craigslist for baby gear, did a few loads of laundry, even finished painting the mural in Gavin's nursery. I went to Target that morning, got some Chinese food for lunch, Walgreens that afternoon to buy snacks for Mike (for whenever I go into labor). It was becoming quite apparent how exhausting it is just waiting to go into labor. Gavin wasn't due for another week, but I did convince my doctor to push my induction to Wednesday morning. 2 more days, I kept thinking... 2 more days...
So you can imagine my surprise that Monday night... we had just finished watching the latest episode of House. I felt like crap, as usual, but wasn't having any contractions. And then... the uneventful event happened. My water broke. No... I didn't stain the couch. I didn't pee all over the carpet either. But it broke alright... it was around 9:30pm. I yelled for Mike, and after calling my sister to tell her "this is NOT a drill" and a few minutes of last minute packing and Mike nervously looking for a "rope" to tie off the umbilical cord in case we don't make it all the way to the hospital... we were off.
I told the nurses the first chance I got that I wanted the epidural, but for some reason or the other, they couldn't give it to me right away. I had to get my blood drawn, they said. I don't know what the hell was going on at 10pm that it took them forever to draw my blood and get it to the lab.
Within 2 hours, the contractions have gotten so bad that I found myself yelling in pain -- something I didn't remember doing when I gave birth to Ethan. For what it's worth, Mike talked me through breathing through the contractions. I found a spot on the ceiling to focus on and held on to the siderail because I didn't By the time they drew my blood, the lab got the results, and the anesthesiologist got to the room, I was already 9 cm dilated. I was ready to push. I remember the anesthesiologist talking to the nurse, telling her it was too late for me to get it. I just kept thinking.. holy shit, this hurts.
No, no, no. Unacceptable. I don't remember if I spat out profanity, I don't think I did.... I just remember saying "please" a lot. I could've cursed them out politely, I suppose. Mainly, I begged for them not to let me go through it without drugs. Sure, people do it all the time. But I wasn't about to if I could help it. Mike kept saying "you can do this, I know you can". No offense, hun, but I hate you right about now.
They ended up administering the epidural after much begging. By then I was already ready to push. The anesthesiologist told me he can't sit me up because I was in too much pain, so he'll have to do it with me laying down - which apparently takes his difficulty level up a notch. I promised to stay still through the contractions, which is A LOT harder than it sounds. He stuck my back and waited inbetween the peaks. It took maybe 20 minutes for me to feel it, but it was too late..... It was go time. I don't remember much anymore after that.
Next thing you know, he was in my arms. He was finally here.... there's no feeling like the first time you see that baby. He was perfect. But my favorite part of it all was introducing Ethan to his baby brother.
Ethan, meet Gavin. Gavin, meet Ethan.
Gavin, meet the world.