We’re calling him Nathan or Nate (rhymes with ”great”) but not Nat (rhyming with Matt because, well, we already have one of those!) He is named after my father, Ronald, and very loosely after my late mother, Nancy, although Nathan was on our short list for both pregnancies regardless of my mother’s passing. It just seemed right.
Matthew is very interested in his little brother, and is being as gentle as he knows how to be, being 19 months old.
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DH's Version:
We had a fun weekend
. On Friday little Nathan was born - weighing 5lbs 12oz and measureing 18.5 inches. Baby and Cindy are both doing fine. We **almost** made it into the hospital, and I wound up playing catch with my son for the first time as he was being born...Most of Thursday Cindy was in labor, having irregular contractions between 4 and 10 minutes apart. After dinner they stopped, so we figured Nate was going to wait another day to make his grand appearance. On Friday morning, her contractions returned much stronger, occurring between 3 and 6 minutes! Called her midwife and doula (non-medical birth assistant and well worth the $) and they both advised coming to the hospital for a checkup.
It took literally an hour to get out of the house, since by the time we had decided to leave she would have only a few seconds between the end of a contraction and the start of a new one. She also said that she couldn't sit down and felt like she was uncontrollably pushing - so we used her dad's minivan. The van had the rear seat already removed since it was used for storage. Instead of sitting in a seat, she sat on a birth ball (basically a pilates ball) in the back of the van while holding onto the headrest!
Now for the fun part - we live 15-20 minutes away from the hospital, which must have seemed like an eternity for Cindy. I blew every light and drove 60mph down Hylan Blvd (right past the police station too) and was the recipient of many middle fingers
. As we left I called her doula and told her we were on the way - she was waiting for us by the valet parking entrance behind the hospital. I asked her to get us a wheelchair since there was no way Cindy was making it up to Labor and Delivery on her own. Halfway there, I called her back and asked her to get a stretcher instead. When she called me back to say that she had a stretcher and a nurse waiting with her, Cindy's water broke - we were maybe 5 minutes away from the hospital.I asked the doula to page her midwife and ask her to come downstairs and meet us. She called me back to tell us that she was on her way. At this point I was turning down the block that the hospital was on and Cindy screamed "It feels like the head is coming". I told the doula that we weren't going to make it inside and to get the the front entrance ASAP. As I pulled onto the hospital's property Cindy screamed "The head is out!" and I pulled over right in front of the ER entrance where the emergency vehicles park. Was so lucky we made it in time...
I went into the back. Cindy was wearing stretch pants and I could see that the head was sticking out. Pulled down the pants and guided the baby out (which was more like catching since he just came right out). Nate was pink and crying from the moment I had held him, which is a good sign. I let Cindy know he was OK and just held him close until help arrived. Within a minute, about 20 hospital personal (doctors, nurses, security guards, the midwife and doula) came running out of the ER to help. Was an amazing response. They opened all the doors to the van to check on everyone and help us out. Someone gave me the tool to cut the cord with, but I declined saying that I think I did enough already
. I went upstairs with some nurses and the baby. Cindy, the midwife and doula went upstairs separately and we met up within a few minutes.As I walked through the ER with a crying baby and an entourage of nurses everyone started clapping and applauding which was really cool. They were really well organized too - the security guards were radioing back to each other 'the baby is in the building', 'the baby is in the elevator' etc and there was a guard holding open every door as we made our way through the building! On the way up, one of the nurses was filling out paperwork and asked me what time the baby was born - I looked at my watch and said ... umm maybe 5m ago, so lets say 12:10PM
. They took us to a room in Labor and Delivery and Cindy arrived a few moments later. A doctor examined Nate and said he was fine. The midwife examined Cindy and said she was fine and didn't even need any stitches! Then she joked about Cindy getting the "natural" birth that she wanted The midwife also pulled a lot of strings for us. One of the hospital's policies is that a baby born extramural (outside the hospital) goes directly to the ICU for observation. As both the doctor and midwife felt that the baby was completely healthy - the midwife said that we should be granted a private room and allowed to room in the with the baby if we want (which we wanted). The midwife also said that she was going to make a request that the baby be discharged after 24 hours provided that everything was ok. After some hospital politics, we got what we wanted.
A few hours later a nurse took us to the maternity ward were we were put in a temporary room while they prepared the private room for us. We were able to room in with Nate and Matthew was able to visit too - which was really cool. In fact after his inital examination (2 doctors and a nurse examined him before allowing us to room in), noone bothered us for the rest of the day. In the morning, they told us that Nate needed one blood test when he was 24 hours old and then they would discharge us. We were home by 2PM on Saturday!
Well, it's really interesting having 2 kids under 2 years old. Matt really likes like little brother and stares at him alot.
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My Version of the Birth Story
I started having irregular contractions on Thursday morning (Nov 29) at around 10:30am, which lasted until about 6 or 7pm and then completely stopped. Totally pissed me off because I had 3 days of "false labor" with Matthew plus the actual day of labor, so I figured I was once again in for the long haul. I ate dinner, and watched Shrek 3 with my DH, Paul, and our 19 month old son, Matthew and went to bed. I woke a few times during the night with contractions, but not many.
Friday morning I woke fine. Went on the computer for a little bit and was about to eat breakfast when the contractions started again at about 9am. The first few were over 10 minutes apart, but at around 9:30 they were coming a bit closer together. We handed my son off to my father and I went into the bedroom and got onto my birth ball while Paul continued to round up the remaining items for the hospital bag.
TMI alert: At this point I realized I was bleeding with every contraction, and wasn't sure if it was normal or not so we called my doula and midwife. My doula assured me that the bleeding was a good sign and completely normal. I down half a bottle of Gatorade so the hospital will not be able to find me dehydrated, and get down a few bites of a power bar for energy.
My contractions were anywhere from 5 to 11 minutes apart. My midwife called and told me that if the contractions were not coming in a regular fashion that it was probably going to be a while and that we should stay home and see how the day progressed. Since I'd had all the hospital drama with the first birth I agreed I wanted to wait at home as long as possible. It was a little past 10:00am. I was still feeling discouraged, because I had been told that irregular contractions don't really count, and was figuring it would be all day and perhaps a few days like the last one, plus Thursday’s action didn’t bring a baby, so why should Friday be any different. I read the “Is this really Labor?” pamphlet over and find that it too agrees that irregular contractions are a sign of false labor.
Over the next 45 minutes the contractions remained irregular but their intensity was growing. I continued to bounce on the birth ball to try to coax baby down. Eventually the contractions were very intense and painful and I needed to hold onto Paul during them. We discussed whether we should head to the hospital or not, weighing a “false labor” stay if I was not “there yet.” They were still coming 3-8 minutes apart, with no regularity. It was about 10:45.
Then I had an 11 minute wait between a contraction. With the very next contraction I started feeling the “I can’t do this anymore” despair. I started shaking, and feeling nauseous and told my husband that I thought I might be in transition because of all the signs and that I’d definitely say I was in transition if the darnn contractions became regular, as I’d been assured by the midwife that the only reason my contractions were so wonky last time was because of Matthew’s prematurity.
Finally at about 11:10 we made the decision to go to the hospital and called my doula (who was on the way to my house and was instead told to go to the hospital) and midwife. With the next contraction I told Paul I was starting to have a light urge to push. He handed me clothes (a shirt and yoga pants) and I attempted to struggle into them while having intense contractions. It would have been quite hilarious if I wasn’t in crap-tastic pain. I couldn’t tell if I was pushing or not. I’m worried I might not be at 10 centimeters and that pushing could be dangerous.
Somehow we made it to my father’s minivan. At this point I realize that I am in fact pushing and there is no way to stop. I told hubby that I didn’t know if we were going to make it to the hospital. He assures me we will, after all Matt took 3 hours of pushing. Paul tried to get me to sit in a seat and I almost killed him. Instead I sat on the birth ball in the complete rear of the car with my left arm hugging the seat back in front of me and a seat belt strap wrapped around my right arm.
We started to go. It was somewhere between 11:50 and 11:55. At this point I’m having intense contraction after contraction with almost no break in between. I decide to just give in to it and trust that my body would not be making me push if I wasn’t ready, and besides I can’t stop anyway so its better to just believe. Paul is running red lights and I’m begging him not to get into an accident. He was talking to me, but now I can’t even remember what he was saying. With every contraction I come off the birth ball and lean into the chair in front of me and hold on tight for balance. Paul calls my doula who is already at the hospital and tells her I’m pushing and to get a wheelchair. We’re most of the way there when I feel a tingling sensation I can only imagine is the “ring of fire” women talk about. It’s not a “painful” sensation for me and I don’t believe it but tell Paul I think it’s the head. I want to feel if it’s really the baby’s head, but the darn pants are in the way. I want to get my pants off, but I have to hold on and my back, which is NEVER good can’t support me in a moving vehicle while I’m pushing without me holding on.
I feel a calmness that the baby will be fine and everything is okay, but I HAVE to push.
We’re less than 3 minutes to the hospital and my water breaks. Paul calls the doula and has her get a stretcher instead. I’m dumbfounded and pushing, pushing, pushing and screaming at Paul that the head is coming and to pull over. With the next push the head comes out and I beg Paul to pull over, but he says “we’re right here.” He pulls into the hospital parking lot and I’m still begging him to pull over and get the baby, who is basically being held inside me by my stretchy yoga pants. I’m terrified that baby will fall on the floor down my pants leg. Paul is still on the phone directing the doula to the entrance we’re by and he looks back and says he sees the head, which confuses me because I am wearing pants. Later he explains that he could see the bulge and my butt is just not that big. I yell at him to get into the back of the van and to get off the effing phone. He pulls over drops the phone and runs to the back of the car, realizes he’s left the door locked to the back, runs back to his open door and unlocks the back door, runs back to that door and gets in the van. I scream at him to pull my pants down and take the baby. He’s behind me as I’m still leaning into the chair. He pulls down my pants and with an overwhelmingly relieving tiny push the baby is out in his daddy’s arms and screaming and flailing. Many people come rushing out of the hospital. I ask Paul if the baby is okay and if it’s a boy and he says the baby is fine and yes, it’s a boy. Paul holds him close as its almost December and we’re basically outside and he’s naked. And then the cavalry comes within about 30 seconds, including my doula and midwife and lots of hospital staff with tons of warm blankets. They cut the cord. I’m able to see the baby for a second but want him to get out of the cold. I tell Paul to go with the baby and the staff helps me onto a stretcher to get me upstairs so I can deliver the placenta. I get to lay on my stomach and GODDESS does it feel awesome. Baby and I are reunited a minute later in the labor and delivery room and after I deliver the placenta and am given the all clear that I need NO stitches I get to hold baby. I give him a big kiss and wish Nathan a happy birthday and then everything calms down. We’re able to nurse and they give me a private room and Nate gets to room in with me. We’re out of the hospital in about 26 hours.
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Congratulations!! 
You're a strong mama and you have a gorgeous family. And I love your dog! I have a German Shepherd too, she's great around the baby. Congrats again!
