My Newest Miracle Arrives on a Rocket

Less than 24 hours after writing that last blog post, I welcomed our newest son to the world.

This beautiful boy is named Dominic, and we're calling him "Nico" for short.

I'd been having contractions for weeks leading up to his delivery, but Tuesday morning, I could tell the real ones had finally arrived.  Since I hadn't slept much the night before, I figured I'd try to lay down for a bit as they ramped up, catching at least a little rest before the marathon I knew laid before me.

I texted Chris my plans and got into bed.  Our cat, Piper, immediately climbed under the covers and nestled against me as a new contraction hit.  I realized then that it was go-time.  I texted Chris again and let him know to start making his way home.  I got plans for Vince and Nate in motion and also messaged my friend, Sam, who generously agreed to come and photograph the festivities.

I hopped into the shower one last time when I noticed bright red blood.  I hadn't had that experience with Vince or Nate, but knowing that every pregnancy is different, I called the OB to give them a heads up that I'd be arriving to the hospital with this symptom as well.  No one could tell me if it was normal or not, so I crossed my fingers and hoped OB triage would have some answers for me.

Chris arrived home in record time.  I was out front talking to our neighbor, Jake, when he came peeling around the corner.  Clearly he was excited to get us to the hospital!

On the way there, my contractions continued to ramp up.  From about 8A-9A, I only had maybe three that whole hour.  From 9-10, they moved to every 10 minutes.  By the time we got to the hospital at 11ish, I was only about 5-6 minutes apart.  It wasn't long before they were coming in waves and I was calling for an epidural.

Funny thing, though, is that I had originally toyed with the idea of not having an epidural at all.  I'd had a failed one with Nate and I'd somehow survived.  Having been warned there could be some problems with Nico, I thought foregoing the epidural would ensure he got here faster.  However, once the contractions really kicked into gear, I worried my heart rate and breathing would cause problems as well, so called for the epidural to calm things down a bit.

Alas, the triage nurse didn't think I was progressing as quickly as I was (mostly because she hadn't set up the monitor properly to check me for contractions).  However, when the second nurse came in and confirmed that I'd doubled my cervical opening within an hour, that should've clued her in to the fact that yes, my body was doing exactly what it was meant to do.

Alas again, I don't think she much cared.  She didn't get me sent up to labor and delivery until I was already ready to pop.  I felt the urge to push while I was sitting in the wheelchair on the elevator, and again when I used the bathroom before getting on the delivery bed.  I think I was in the delivery room for all of 15 minutes before I started shouting that I HAD to push.  Again, the nurse was telling me I'd need to wait for another hour before they'd be able to give me an epidural, but there was absolutely no way that was going to happen.  Having gotten her notes from the triage nurse who clearly didn't know what the heck she was doing, she thought I had way more time than I did.

Chris confronted her as I started shouting that I needed to push.  The man has the patience of a saint, but a line was crossed and I knew he was doing what he could to protect me.  I can't overstate how much I appreciated his advocacy in that moment, because it felt like no one was taking me seriously.  After he confronted her, she immediately called for the anesthesiologist.  I knew it was too late, but it was still nice to know that Chris had forced her to listen.  She dropped the bed, did a quick check on where I was, and from the look on her face, I knew I was right.  I said, "He's crowning, isn't he?"  She didn't bother to answer.

Suddenly there were five people in the room talking to me at once.  I couldn't focus on any of them- I could only feel the overarching need to push.  Chris was to the left of me, and I think Sam was somewhere to the right but had gotten shuffled away by the sudden barrage of nurses.  One of them (I later learned she was the midwife) said, "On the next contraction, you're gonna push!" and I said, "He's coming!"  So I pushed.  She counted to ten and told me to stop pushing, but I couldn't... the next contraction was already starting, so she said, "Okay, push again!" and I did.  His head came out and with one more push, the rest of him followed.  They laid him on my chest and oh... my heart.  

Chris and Sam were somehow on either side of me, bending down close to say I'd done it.  He was here.  He was safe.  God is so good...

My doctor walked in a few minutes later and threw her hands up saying, "So you had a baby, huh?"  LoL.  Yes, I guess I did.

She got gloves on and went to work helping finish the postpartum work with the midwife.  I honestly don't know where everyone else went.  I'll spare you the postpartum details, but suffice to say that it wasn't fun and I don't recommend it to anyone, especially not without an epidural.  Ha ha!

So yes, at 1:41PM, Dominic Angelo arrived earth-side with 10 fingers, 10 toes, and a nursing reflex that would put Dyson and Hoover to shame.

God is good.  In all things, God is so very, very good.