About a month ago, after deciding that our wiggly one was not going to make an appearance without a bit of nudging, we decided that we were going to induce labor and get this show on the road. On the appointed day, we called into the hospital and were told that there was a "space issue", apparently everyone wanted to have their baby that day. We were told that we would get called back to see if there was indeed any room for us at the hospital. A few hours later we got the green light, packed up the car, and headed over. After three hours of waiting in the labor room, without being induced, we were told that they had to give away our room and that we could have to come back another day. Needless to say, we were disappointed. We had been told to come in just to be told to go home after sitting uncomfortably in a paper outfit for three hours.
Take 2: On September 25th, we called into the hospital to see if there was any room for us. Steve made the call for us and verified with the nurse and the head nurse that we would NOT be turned away. He pretty much warned them of the freak out I was going to have if they had us come in just to turn us away again. They assured us over and over that they wouldn't send us home again. Cautiously optimistic we packed up the car and headed over. We were given a room and even a nurse. I warned her of my teeny tiny uncooperative veins. She insisted that she had never met someone she couldn't IV. About five attempts later, which included both right and left hands, she called in the head nurse. To be fair, the head nurse didn't quite get it in on her first attempt either.
12 hours later: (yeah, it was uncomfortable and then painful and then I broke down and got the epidural- that pretty much sums up those 12 hours). The doctor was there. We had a new nurse because of the shift change. The doctor told me to give her four good pushes and then I'd have a break. I gave it all I had. After the fourth push, the doctor pulls the "ok, just one more and then we'll be good". Seriously? I felt like I was in high school doing laps when the coach asks for two extra laps after you've just run a 1600. Seriously? I give her that fifth push and wasn't THAT surprised when I got the "ok, just more more and then we'll be good, promise, one more" from the doctor. I shot the doctor "the eyebrow". She just smiled. I pushed and then heard the baby screaming and Steve doing the laughing-crying-yelling thing. Steve seemed as surprised as I was that the baby had finally come out. That's when we learned that the wiggly kicky wee one inside was a boy- Maxwell James. At that point, I started doing the laughing-crying-babbling thing. I'm sure I was pretty incoherent until pretty much the next day. The Golden Hour the hospital gave us was divine. Having an those first one to two hours with just the three of us was incredible. I would definitely recommend
So one month later, Maxwell's still pretty wiggly and very kicky. I've gotten used to napping in one to two hour intervals. Maxwell is happy just eating and sleeping and playing all day long. We're getting there. We're happy!
Happy One Month, my little dude!
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