Well, all, I'm finally getting around to writing the birth story!
So Saturday afternoon Brian had a few guys over to help him finish the basement. Some friends of ours stopped by to pick up their couches out of our basement. The wife and I were upstairs in the kitchen while the boys worked on the basement. We were making turtle cheesecakes for me to freeze. While we were making them I started having contractions again. She is an RN, so she started timing them and getting right into this contractions thing. She doesn't have any kids yet. So eventually we order pizza for all the hungry guys and I'm still having contractions. Everyone ends up leaving except for her husband, he and Brian keep working on the basement. So I decide to take a bath. I'm in the bath and my contractions are kind of getting closer together...could it be? I get out of the tub and walk around the house a bit and keep timing them -- they are 2-3 minutes apart and have been for a few hours. So I call down to Brian, "My contractions are 2-3 minutes apart...I think this is the real thing." So off we go at about 5:00 p.m.
We get to the hospital and they attach the monitors to me and baby and then the nurse checked to see how dilated I was. I was 6 cm! Woo hoo! They get Brian to go and admit me and they take my blood, and I'm off to labour and delivery. We got a SWEET room. Cable TV, leather couch and a glider rocker, shower, all the fixins for a good labour! We are making the final phone calls to people and then the doctor comes in to break my water. Gush!!!!! Then my contractions are instantly more intense. There also seemed to be almost NO break. That's because the break was only 10 seconds between them. The nurse and the doctor felt really bad for me. They told me that my contractions should be close together, but not THAT close together. So I'm working through the contractions really well and then I'm about 8 cm and it is really starting to hurt. I ask for Morphine. The nurse gets me the Morphine, and it lasts all of about three contractions -- great. I ask for more, she tells me she can only give it to me every hour. I'm screwed. I start to feel that the only way I can make it through these contractions is to push. The nurse or doctor checked me again and told me I could go ahead and push. I was 10 cm. I pushed. I pushed some more. I kept pushing. They had to put the monitor into his little head because they couldn't get a reading off the external monitor. Brian was a GREAT coach and really did everything perfect for me. This baby didn't want to move. He stayed at -1. Wouldn't budge. I have no drugs in me and the baby isn't moving, and I can tell he isn't moving. I started to ask for a C-section. Then his heart rate started dropping. The doctor went and got the obstetrician. The obstetrician walked into the room and said to me "We have some options." I said "I'm not opposed to a C-section." She said, "Off to the OR we go." So then they took the monitors off me and started wheeling me to the OR.
The WORST contractions were right then. I wasn't in a pushing position anymore, and I had no focus for pushing -- does this make sense? I had to work through the contractions knowing that my pushing wasn't helping things along. They were awful.
We got into the OR and the anesthetist was GREAT. They had me lean over the edge of the bed with a pillow on my stomach and he said, "You will feel the needle. You will feel the tubing now. And now you won't feel anything." And I didn't. It was BEAUTIFUL. I was FREEZING almost instantly. I felt tingly all over, but I couldn't feel anything. I couldn't even feel pressure from them pulling out the baby or anything.
So then they let Brian into the room and the anesthetist was on my left and Brian was on my right. They were watching the procedure and making sure I was okay. They got me a blanket because my teeth were chattering so bad (in fact, I bit my tongue).
The procedure didn't take long at all. Next thing I know, the doctor is saying, "It's a boy." I said, "What?" Brian said, "It's a boy." Huh? I thought this was a girl all along! Almost everyone did. So after I got over that little shock they showed purple Harrison to me. He was so purple, but I looked over to the area they were working on him shortly and he was pink. He didn't cry much. Brian was over taking pictures and everything while they sewed me back up. Then they wheeled me into the recovery room to monitor me for a bit and they put the things on my legs to help with swelling. I was SO cold. They let Brian and Harrison come in and visit me. Awwww...and I got to hold my little man. He was so perfect. All 10 fingers and all 10 toes! Then they monitored me for about half and hour and then took me to my room. We wanted a private room, but there weren't any available :(.
They kept Harrison in the nursery that night because I couldn't get up to help him anyway, and they would bring him to me to feed. I nursed him at 1:00 and he nursed SO well, just like he does all the time. Then they took him to the nursery. The nurse checked on me a few times through the night and I kept asking, "Shouldn't I be feeding him?" She said, "He isn't hungry. He'll wake up when he wants to eat." I didn't like her. Anyway, at 6:00 he woke up to feed. He stayed in my room from then on, and Brian was back at 7:00. We just cooed and oohed all over him. Then we called and told everyone the good news. Except, we called everyone, and he was just Baby Bohn. We didn't have a name for him yet. Later that morning we started to flip through our baby name book. Brian was flipping through the Jewish name section (funny...we aren't Jewish) and said, "What about Harrison?" Awww...Harrison! It was a toss up between Harrison and Maxwell. He just didn't seem like a Max to me. He was for sure a Harrison.
They took my catheter out that morning and my IV as well, so I was up and walking within 12 hours of the surgery. I was amazed. My mom wasn't even out of bed for a week after her C-Sections (granted that was 30 years ago), but I've heard other women say they weren't up and walking that quick. I am lucky. I really didn't want to be in the hospital any longer than I had to, and I didn't want to overdue it at the same time.
That day my mom and dad and grandma came up to visit Harrison. Harrison is great-grandbaby number 60-something for my Grandma!
That night at around 10 Brian went home to get some rest, and I found that I needed him still to get Harrison out of the basinet for me, because I couldn't lift him. (not supposed to lift anything over 10 lbs -- ha ha ha.) He came back at around 11. The nurse made him go home at 12. I was SO mad. She wasn't around to help me. When I called, it took forever to get a nurse there, and they wouldn't let Brian stay with me and help me. Stupid "hospital policies." We had a rough night because I wouldn't swaddle Harrison like he likes to be swaddled, and so he would be fussy, and the nurse wouldn't come quick enough. So I actually got up, out of bed and swaddled him, and it hurt like hell, but I had no choice. The nurse showed up half an hour later but I told her, never mind, I got it. So we had a rough night that night, and my roommate showed up at around 4 that morning. Her baby was FUSSY, but I know she couldn't help it. Harrison was great and slept through it.
Brian came back at 7 Monday morning. We just waited around for me to pass gas and then we could go -- how frustrating LOL. We waited and we waited. Eventually I "passed" the test and we could go home. My mom and my aunt came up to see us and then we got our stuff together and we were discharged.
That drive home from the hospital was nerve-racking to say the least. My husband is a really good driver, but I was SO antsy riding home. I just wanted to get home. We managed to get home. My mom was wonderful to stay with us. She stayed from Monday - Sunday.
Today is our first day, just Harrison and I, and we are doing great! We walked all the way to the end of the street and got the mail. That was our big outing for the day. My sister got me a sling, that I LOVE. Harrison just slept on our walk in that.
So, that's the story!