Its a Boy!

No, we are not pregnant again. Heck no!

Following the advice of a friend, I'm rewinding a bit to share what some may consider my rite of passage into mommyhood, (if a rite of passage is a transitional period marked by intense pain and/or forbearance, I will agree) or what I will call my birth story.

Two days past my due-date, (much to the chagrin of my doctor) I was waiting for Isaac to make his arrival. I had been doing everything in my power to induce labor, walking, squatting and more walking. Sunday night around 8pm, after one such walk, my friend Ashley, my husband Josh and my pregnant self were all deliberating on the best place to eat (Mexican, I think was the eventual conclusion), when my water broke.
I shrieked and ran to the bathtub to keep amniotic fluid from going everywhere. Ashley began to run around in circles, in shock I think, to have been a witness to this event, Josh ran to get my bag and I brushed my teeth.




We got in the car and drove, arriving at the hospital at around 9pm. Our immediate family and a few close friends sat in the waiting room while I was assessed. At 3cm dilated and 80% effaced, we were in progress with a ways to go. I was quite impressed with myself, contractions 5 minutes apart and I barely felt them? I was already good at this! Determined to deliver naturally (sans epidural), I was encouraged.
Two hours later and my pain level had only risen slightly. I paced the hospital floor, trying to speed up dilation. My mom told to me to take a chill pill and save my energy after I started doing squats. I eventually sat down when the pain was too much for aerobics, rolling my eyes at her cynicism. After all, what does a mother of four know about labor?



Pacing. Hospital gowns are so flattering!



Adrienne, me and Mom, in between contractions.

By 2am, I'd only dilated to 6cm and was having contractions 1.5-2 mins apart. Josh and Mom were taking turns rubbing my lower back and reminding me to breath.

4am came with little to no progression and my nurse, skeptical of my ability to last without the epidural, kept reminding me that if I didn't start dilating they'd have to give me potosin. I begged for more time. Not too soon after 4, the nurses rushed in, shouting something about the baby not being happy and instructed me to turn onto my side. Within ten minutes everything seemed to smooth out and they offered me Staydol.

That was the best hour of my life.

Once I regained all consciousness, the contractions, (a 15 on my pain scale of 1-10, although I refused to admit it to the nurses) were continuous and I had dilated to 8cm.
By 6am, I was being told he would be here soon and to hang on. I remember being pretty sure I was going to die and not caring about anything but how much it hurt.
Once I felt the need to push, I was hopeful, knowing it was supposed to be over soon, but still in too much pain to think. I had a new nurse come on duty and tell me she'd never delivered naturally, but wanted to help me do this however I wanted. I thought she was an angel. I think I pushed for about 45 minutes, a relief to the pain, but literally the hardest thing I'd ever done physically.

Isaac Morgan Edwards arrived at 8:11am weighing 8lbs 13oz with the largest cone head in the history of the United States. I felt like a warrior home from battle. Triumphant! He was beautiful and I knew I would do it over again.