And now for something completely different

Indulge me, will you? Even though I started this blog just two and a half weeks after Baby J. was born, I never wrote his birth story -- and I think he's the only one of my kids for whom that is true. and since he's nearing six months, I want to write it before I forget it, and if I write it, it may as well see the light of day.

My first baby was born in an ordinary hospital birth, but things went really quickly. I mean REALLY quickly. Like, I had one contraction, I felt my water break, we left for the hospital, and two hours from that first contraction, I was holding a baby. So when I got pregnant with my second, I started looking into homebirths. DD2 was an absolutely ideal homebirth. Picture-perfect, right down to the fact that she was born inside an intact bag of waters. D's birth -- well, he was also born at home, and the birth itself was great, but the aftermath... right. I think we've talked once or twice about that, no?

Anyway, partly because it turned out that D. was a little bit early, I was worried about the possibility of another premature baby with Baby J. So I figured that it made sense to plan for a hospital birth and to see an OB so that if I wound up in early labor, I would at least have an established relationship with an OB; I would be slightly more in control of the situation.

It should come as no surprise to anyone, therefore, that well past 40 weeks, Baby J. still showed no signs of readiness. At 41 weeks -- and mind you, it was 41 weeks by my adjusted count; it was 42.5 weeks by dates -- my OB insisted that we induce. We had discussed my preferences ahead of time, and she was respectful of those. So early that morning, Mr. WG and I headed over to the hospital. We checked in at around 10 a.m., and I changed into a gown and got settled in bed with my laptop. They pushed an IV and started the pit probably around 11.

I felt mild twinges, but nothing so serious that it affected my ability to send and receive email. Thank goodness for wireless Internet access, right?

At around noon, the nurse checked me, and I hadn't really made any progress, which didn't surprise me, since I hadn't really had any pain. So my OB came in, checked me, broke my water with no warning, and then mentioned that she had to be back in the office in half an hour, and she'd really appreciate it if I could help her keep her schedule.

The contractions got really intense, and I concentrated on breathing. Breathing doesn't actually do anything for the pain, but it does give you something to focus on. And then about 15 minutes later, I said that I really wanted to push. They checked me, and I was at just about 10 centimeters. they got everything ready, and I pushed maybe four or five times, and Baby J. came out.

They checked the baby and gave him back to me, and my OB thanked me for helping her make it back to the office on time. And then Mr. WG and I just hung out with Baby J. for a bit until they took him off to the nursery (and THAT is what I hate about hospitals, the fact that they TAKE YOUR KID AWAY). I got him back after about 2 hours, and all of our parents and my other kids came and everyone was all happy and everything.

And then everybody left, and it was just me and Baby J. and we hung out until around midnight -- I remember that I watched Chicago on the hospital movie channel. And then I was tired, but Baby J. was fussy, and I held out as long as I could, but then I did ask the nursery to take him for a bit. They brought him back about 3 hours later to eat. I nursed him and held him for another hour or so and then finally got him to sleep, closed my eyes, and was immediately awakened by someone wanting to take my blood pressure or something.

Fortunately, that was our only night in the hospital; by that afternoon we were back home and I could rest while other people held beautiful Baby J.

And that's the story. Thanks for indulging me.