On January 8, I went in for my midwife appointment, and she noted that my blood pressure had been getting higher for the past few appointments, which was unusual for me. There was no protein in my urine, and no real concern that something was seriously wrong, but she suggested I go to the hospital for induction that morning. We had been planning for me to go the next day, when I would have been 42 weeks, but I agreed to go in a day early to play it safe.
So, I called Joe and told him to ask his mom to watch the girls and headed home to pack a quick bag and get to the hospital. I got home and threw my stuff together and let my work know that it was go time and I was off. Joe did the same, and we left the girls with my mother-in-law and told them we were going to the hospital so the new baby could come out. We had to stop off at the mall on the way so Joe could meet up with one of his co-workers and give him some keys, and then we finally arrived at the hospital.
Going to the hospital for a planned induction is pretty lame. There's no real drama. I told the women at the nurse's station that I was there for an induction and they told me to go down the hall and wait in a room until they could get me set up. Joe and I hung out and discovered the greatest horror of our hospital stay- their wi-fi was down. What a bummer. They finally got me hooked up to the monitors and an IV around 1pm. Joe went and got lunch and picked us up some magazines at some point. I ate a bunch of popsicles. This was the boring waiting part where I always feel guilty making Joe even be there since it's literally sitting in a room waiting for stuff to happen. I was having contractions but they weren't horrible or anything. It was mostly me just laying around and Joe reading magazines.
The staff stopped by and asked how things were going pretty regularly, and I let them know I was having contractions but they weren't killer. They finally checked m around 9pm and said I was about 5 to 6 cm. The midwife suggested we turn off the pitocin since my body seemed to be kicking into gear by itself, and break my water. This was when I started getting nervous. Breaking the water is always when shit gets real for me. Everything starts to hurt more and go faster. And, true to form, once that happened, things kicked up and the contractions started to hurt more and come faster. I told Joe I didn't want to do it. Like, if there was a way to get the baby out without going through another delivery, we should do that. I just really did not want to go through all the pain again.
Joe told me I'd be fine and get through it. I said I didn't think so, and thought I should get an epidural. We went back and forth over it again. I just felt like I was only dilated to 5 and MAYBE 6, so it was going to be hours more of this and I just couldn't take it. So, around 9:40, I asked the nurse for an epidural. She got the anesthesiologist and he showed up around 9:50. He was doing everything and asking me to stay still and it was SO HARD because it hurt SO MUCH and the contractions were coming SO FAST. When he said he was doing the last part, right at 10:05, I felt a gush of water and felt the baby drop into the birth canal and yelled, "This baby is coming NOW!" I instantly started feeling the urge to push.
The anesthesiologist said "I'm done! You can lay down!" Then realized his instruments were all over the bed and yelled, "Wait a minute!" and grabbed his stuff and I laid back. The epidural had not kicked in and I started yelling, "I do NOT want to feel this!" because the baby was wiggling around so much and I had never pushed without an epidural before. But, the urge to push was overwhelming and as the midwife appeared suddenly and asked if I could wait a minute to push because they were setting things up, I told her I just could not resist pushing. It was a force outside of me by that point. She said to go ahead and push if I had to, and I did. She then asked if I wanted stirrups or to hold my legs up and I yelled, "I don't care!" (I did a lot of yelling. Everyone was nice about it.)
I was pushing and the epidural was starting to work a little, but only in my leg it seemed, which I didn't really need. I felt the baby crowning and the infamous "ring of fire" and, yeah, that's appropriately named. On the next contraction, I pushed out the head. Then I kind of relaxed, forgetting that I had to push out the rest of the baby. The midwife and nurses started shouting, "Megan! We still need to get the rest!" And I was internally like, "oh yeah, there's more baby." So, I got back to pushing and out popped the body. Baby was born at 10:15.
And then I laid there. The midwife had said earlier that she would let Joe announce the sex of the baby since it was a surprise. For nearly two full minutes Joe stared at the baby. I began to wonder what was going on. Did Joe somehow not know the difference between boys and girls? Should I have drawn him a diagram? Was something wrong? Finally, he said, "It's- another girl!" And I was happy. I had been so sure she was a boy, but I was wrong. And of course, I was happy. Mainly because I was not super confident about circumcision decisions, and I got to avoid them yet again. But also because I do love my girls and was happy to add another one to the pack.
One of the coolest things with Eliza is that we got to cuddle with her for the first hour after she was born and I got to nurse her right away. Both Ramona and Ruby were taken to NICU right after they were born, so we had never gotten to do that before. Usually I was left while Joe ran off to be with the baby, but this time we got to spend time together and it was really nice to just bond with the three of us. Finally we were moved to a recovery room around midnight and I received a text from my mom asking if anyone had been born that day, and I responded that her new granddaughter had arrived.
And that's how we added another daughter to this family.
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