Monday, June 10, 2013

And a George Was Born

Basically I had two assumptions running when I got pregnant.  One, that whomever was coming would be late, as in my mom's experience.  And two, their head would be giant.  You'll see how the latter assumption figures in later.

Proving me right, George had no intentions of coming on his own.  The day I hit forty weeks I had a doctor's appointment, and that very day my doctor and I scheduled George's induction date for May 29, 2013.  Dr. Later said that, if the induction went as planned, George would be born sometime between noon and three on that coming Wednesday.  It felt awesome to finally have a set date; having an actual knowledge of when Mr. Man was coming made me lose all anxiousness.  That last week was actually quite easy to handle. I watched a lot of Downton Abbey and finally got what all the hype was on that. I then proceeded to watch all of Mindy Project as well, sort of my favorite show now. I also named a lot, no idea why. But I digress.

On May 28, we checked into the hospital at nine that night in order to soften my cervix to begin the induction the next morning.






(Funny side note, the first gown they gave me to change into actually had been cut off a patient and had been accidentally been put in to be laundered instead of thrown away.  which slightly makes you winner why it was cut off, and perhaps if it was once on a dead guy.  But really getting dressed was majorly confusing when I couldn't find any sleeves... I was all bare butt.)

My IV was in (in one try, rather than three, phew-wee), the ripening of the cervix was begun with some pill of sorts, and some sweet pain medication was a-dripping!  We actually got a good chunk of sleep.  That us, between hours and hours of Law and Order.  The next morning, around seven o'clock, I was given my epidural and then was started on pitocin.  Um, epic.  This pansy (ahem, me) didn't shed one tear!   Honestly, I felt nothing during the entire process, and the best part was that the anesthesiologist told me to "arch my back like a Halloween kitty"; shhha, Heather works well with needles when kitties are involved.  Beyond that, epidurals are the most awesome thing ever invented.  I felt nothing from then on.  I also had a magic button to up the dosage every fifteen minutes.  Awesome.

The pitocin, however, was not so effective.  The contractions it produced were epic (however, never felt by me), but they weren't getting George to lower.  Turns out my second prediction had come true--his head was too big, which had combined with another issue that would be seen later.  So, instead of lowering his head down, the contractions were stressing him out.  Shortly after administering the epidural, they had also broken my water for me (which, yuck, that's a mess).  This was also meant to progress labor, but by four o'clock I wasn't anywhere near the dilation that I should have been; I had started at a 1.5 when I entered and had barely made it to a 4 in the twenty hours we had been there.  At that point, George was so stressed that he had pooped, the poor kid.  This is bad because, without the fluids, George had the potential to inhale his feces and get an infection.  At this point, with no progression, and after an attempt at lowering his head by pushing being a failure, we had to go c-section.

I was in labor for approximately twelve hours or so, which sounds epic but really it's nothing remarkable because I seriously felt no pain it only made me swell quite a bit with all the friggin' saline I was hooked up to!  After the decision was made for c-section, the prep for it was incredibly fast.  Literally one moment my sister and my mom had arrived to support me in what was assumed to be hours if labor, and they were there maybe twenty minutes when my nurse (who was also named Heather, noice) was all, "Uhhh, I must shave you down yonder. You're going in for a c-section in like, thirty minutes."  Which had me being all, "Guess you can call Dad and James to get down here!"  Before we knew it, Brad was in an attractive surgical gown and we were wheeled off to the surgery room.







Thanks again to the blessing of modern medicine, I felt nothing.  The c-section was seriously a breeze, all that was felt was a pressure of where they were working.  Brad was up by my head holding my hand and talking to me the whole time, it wasn't scary for me.  He watched the whole thing, which I know was more shocking an experience for him, watching me get cut open!  But he was remarkable.  Calm and the exact support I needed to the point that I had no anxiety.

When George came out and cried for the first time, Brad and I looked at each other and cried, too.  I couldn't even see him yet and I loved that little boy, it was a weird feeling!  When they had Brad bring him over I cried even more!  Holy crap, that was our mini man!






Oh my lanta, George is a sweet baby.




He's extremely passive, pensive, whatever you want to call it.  Just a nice little boy.  However, he does hate having bowel movements.  Pooping is his mortal enemy.  I keep trying to tell him that pooping is a non-negotiable-forever-sort-of-thing, but he still doesn't love it.  It's pretty hilarious!

He also likes to believe that he's already a big kid of sorts.  He's got neck muscles like nobody's business, and insists on standing up multiple times a day.  (But pooping is still terrifying, people.)




I love, love, love these boys.  Bradley, I'm excited for this journey of parenthood!  No one could have been the support that he was.  He will be an incredible father to George!  George already loves Brad so much.  It's amazing to watch, pretty much my favorite thing!

We are so happy to have George Bradley Bailey in our lives, born May 29, 2013 at 4:27 PM, weighing 8 lbs 8 oz, measuring 21 inches long!