Man, this has taken me forever to write. No time, no time. Anyway…
After much waiting, Baby Zed has arrived in all his, yes his, Zed-ful glory. Here, take a look!
So, if you would like the gory (well, not too gory) details, here they are.
I started going into labor on Wednesday night, after a visit with my midwife. I continued having contractions and watching seemingly endless episodes of So, You Think You Can Dance? on the TV. It was, of course, a very good thing that Pepere was here to help out with The Boy and DH was here to help with me. The midwife came over to the house on Thursday, an actual housecall (!), can you believe it?, and she said I wasn’t progressing all that much and my contractions weren’t consistent enough, which was rather disappointing.
So, another day passed as DH and attempted to count my haphazard contractions until Friday morning when the midwife came over and things seemed to be going really well. I was attempted to deal with the contractions through breathing, but I was getting pretty exhausted at this point. At this point, we decided to go, very slowly go, to the hospital. I slowly dressed, slowly went down the stairs, slowly got in the car, and slowly breathed through my contractions.
When we got there, my midwife, God love her, was already filling out my paperwork and getting my room ready. She got me into my room, got me into a nightgown and let me lay down in my hospital bed and started monitoring Zed. That’s when the nurses told my midwife that because I was a high-risk VBAC patient, she was being taken off my case and there was a transfer of care to the Head of Obstetrics, who I had briefly met twice before. He seemed to act like this was something that I had previously discussed and approved. This was decidedly not the case. And I was certainly in no shape to argue with hospital staff. My midwife was pretty mad about it, with good reason.
Time wore on and then the doctor decided that I needed an epidural. Although I hadn’t really planned on an epidural, I was very, very tired at this point and thought that it might be a good idea. As it turns out it was an excellent idea and for the first time since Wednesday night, I was my normal self. The bonus was that I could feel my legs, which is usually not the case with an epidural and which is one of the reasons that I wasn’t completely on board with one. But this epidural was strictly restricted to the contractions and I gladly watched a stupid Dr. Phil episode.
A couple hours later, the nurses told me it was time to go into the delivery room and that the baby was on his way. I was pretty happy that I had the epidural because I was a touch more rested than I otherwise would have been. Not to say that had labor was all peaches and cream, because it wasn’t. Fortunately we were able to do it in about an hour. And who should show up right at the last minute and perform a painful episiotomy on me and get to catch the baby? Why, it was Dr. Transfer of Care. Thanks for nothing. Glad it was so important that he override the care of my trusted midwife. Jeez, the whole thing is still upsetting.
So, I had a successful VBAC and both Zed and I are healthy and happy. He was born at 6:27pm (The Boy was born at 6:31pm) at 8 lbs. 15 oz and 20 3/4 inches. He’s a great little baby who is a good, strong eater and a good sleeper. It went about as well as I could have hoped considering, despite my midwife’s sudden demotion.
More to come about the first meeting of The Boy and Zed and Zed’s first week of fun.