Looking Back: Labor and Delivery

After having a few days to adjust to the exciting new world of parenthood, we feel like we're starting to get the hang of it. Now that we're breathing a little easier, I thought I'd go back and give you the expectant father's version of last Wednesday and early Thursday.

As you may recall, last Wednesday was the day after Isaac's due date, and we had a scheduled appointment with the doctor at 3:00. I took a half-day at work so that I could come home, get some lunch, and we could head over to our appointment a little early. When I arrived, Kate told me how her Braxton-Hicks contractions seemed to be getting a little more regular, a little more intense, so I started timing them: 20 minutes apart.

This continued as we headed to the appointment. The doctor confirmed that Kate was 1 cm dilated and about 80% effaced. Contractions were about 15 minutes apart by the time we returned home, and Kate was starting to use those breathing techniques we'd learned. After a little trial and error, I figured out that rubbing the lower back is the quickest way to a laboring woman's heart.

We spent the early evening with Kate's brother Dan and his family on their way back to Michigan. Dan was flying back from Maine, and the fam had picked him up from O'Hare. They helped us cook up some chicken fajitas, and we all ate at the table while Kate got up at regular intervals (closer to 10 minutes now) to breathe through contractions. Now if you'd told me ahead of time that we'd spend our early labor entertaining house guests, two of them under 7 years of age, I probably would have started hyperventilating. Strangely, though, it was great. Playing with our niece and nephew and being with family (including a sister-in-law with more birthing experience than I have) was just the right mix of encouragement and distraction for Kate.

They wished us luck and headed home, and Kate started getting down to business. By 8pm, contractions were less than five minutes apart, lasting more than a minute, and had been this way for over an hour--the magical 5-1-1 formula that means it's time to head to the hospital. We did so. We arrived a little after 9pm and got set up in one of the labor rooms at Evanston Hospital. A resident checked her cervix, finding it to be 4.5 cm dilated and completely effaced.

A regular parade of competent and unobtrusive staff came by to take her vitals, administer antibiotics, and make sure things were progressing. They were. My primary function at this point was continuing to rub her lower back and restarting the Dido CD whenever it reached the end. The doctor checked in on us, finding Kate to be 6 or 7 cm dilated and doing well. There was a shift change just after we arrived, and a top-notch nurse named Susan took over our care for the rest of the night.

This is probably the appropriate point to insert my proud husband editorial comments. Kate was absolutely stellar all the way through labor. She kept focused and stayed in control the whole time. She was able to stick to her goal of doing the whole thing without an epidural, and the doctors and nurses seemed genuinely impressed with her calm, steady efforts. In addition, she never got frustrated with me. We've all heard stories of the woman crushing her husband's fingers as she shrieks accusingly "You did this to me!" I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little nervous beforehand, but my fears were totally unwarranted.

It was around midnight that Kate started to feel ready to push, so Susan went to fetch the doctor. After a few difficult contractions--apparently ignoring the urge to push is pretty difficult once you're feeling it--the doctor returned, verifying that dilation was complete and the baby's head was all the way down and ready to make its exit.

The actual pushing phase seemed incredibly fast, perhaps because it was. Kate only pushed through three contractions with Isaac crowning a little more on each one. On the fourth, he was born at 12:49 AM. Other parents probably know what I mean when I say that he was the grossest beautiful thing (maybe the most beautiful gross thing?) that I've ever seen. Birth really is incredible.

While the doctors helped Kate with the afterbirth and the "repairs" necessary after Isaac's hasty exit, I stepped over to the bassinet where the nurse was checking out our little boy. He came out purple-ish with a white coat of amniotic stuff (Ew, I know), but within minutes he pinked up to a healthy color. She took her measurements while he registered his displeasure as loudly as possible--we quickly realized that his lungs were healthy. After maybe 10 minutes, I was able to bring him back over to Kate while the doctors finished their work.

Feeling him squirm in my arms for the first time... seeing him look out at us with eyes that had opened to the world only several minutes earlier... hearing his cries turn to quiet whimpers and then to shallow breathing... Words fall short. Parental love is something categorically different from what I'd experienced so far. It's humbling that something so helpless and fragile would be put in our care. Overwhelmed and overjoyed, we just stared, taking in our new son's presence for the first time.