Birth Story, Part 2

Part 1 is here.

10:00 am

We met Dr. V, and I knew her.  In fact, as she stood beside my bed, I looked at her intently, trying to remember where we’d met.  She introduced herself to Archer and me, and then she gave me a quizzical look and asked why I looked so puzzled.  I said, “We’ve met before.”  To which she said, “It’s possible, but I’m very bad with faces.”  Suddenly I knew where we’d met, so I asked, “Do you know J?  She’s my good friend.”  Dr. V said, “Yes, we’re quite good friends as well.”  Then I said, “I think we met at her daughter’s birthday party over a year ago.”  Her face lit up.  She said, “Yes, I remember.  You have two little boys, and we talked about schools.”  We continued to chat as she examined me, and I was more comfortable with her since I knew her a bit.  She had also been J’s doctor and knowing how much J had liked her put me even more at ease.

During the exam, the baby moved again, and Dr. V was unable to get his heartbeat.  She became a bit concerned and decided to put in an internal monitor.  While she was trying to get the monitor on the baby’s head, she inadvertently broke the rest of my bag of waters.  It seems that L had not fully punctured it.  As the amniotic fluid literally poured out of me, Dr. V joked that I was going to ruin her new shoes that she had purchased during her recent trip to Europe. 

At that point, I was still only 3 centimeters dilated, and Dr. V asked me what sort of birth I wanted.  I said that I wanted as few interventions as possible.  She also asked about my previous labors, and after learning how fast both Wild Man and Bear and been born and that Wild Man had been induced by only breaking my water, she said, “I want to give it a bit before we run the oxytocin.  I’ll check back in about 90 minutes, and if you haven’t progressed at that point, we’ll talk some more.”

So for the next 90 minutes or so, I got up as I wanted to and moved around a bit, but mostly I stayed in bed, trying to rest.  Archer and I chatted with my nurse, as L moved between my room and her other patient’s room.  Around 11:45, L asked me if I would mind if she went home to shower; she’d been at a birth the day before and had gone home to sleep that evening, without showering.  I said, “I’m still only having contractions every 15 minutes, so sure, please go shower.”  At that point, the contractions were becoming more uncomfortable, but they were still not painful.  I figured that L had plenty of time to go home and shower.

12:30 pm

My nurse studied the printout of my contractions and noticed that they were getting a bit closer together, about every 12 minutes.  As we were talking about this, I had a strong contraction, and the baby’s heart rate dropped to 80, and it stayed down.  After a minute, a crowd of people came into my room—2 NICU nurses, 1 other nurse, and 3 residents.  My nurse was standing right next to me, and Archer was holding my hand.  The head resident (he’d only introduced himself by saying, “I’m the head resident”) pulled on surgical gloves and declared, “I need to check you.”  I rolled over, and without as much as asking my name, he proceeded to check my cervix.  Now, I have an oddly positioned cervix.  If this resident had taken a moment to read my chart, to talk to my nurse, or to ask me anything, he would have learned this.  But he didn’t.  Instead, he proceeded to check my cervix as though he was digging to China.  It hurt—a lot.  He also started another contraction.  My nurse, looking aghast, said, “She’s not medicated.”  Knowing he needed to see if labor was progressing and if the internal monitor on the baby had moved, I gritted my teeth and let him check.  But when he said, “Her cervix is really high and posterior; I can’t seem to get to it,” I quietly said, “Take your hand out of my body.  We need to wait for Dr. V.”  He was clearly embarrassed, but he moved away from me.  By this point, the baby’s heart rate had come back up, but Archer said quietly, “M, it stayed down for 3 minutes.”  I sighed heavily, as I knew what that might mean.

Dr. V arrived at that point and started asking questions.  She said, “Has she been checked?” My nurse said, “She asked to wait for you.”  So Dr. V checked me.  The internal monitor was still in place, and she said I was now 5 centimeters dilated.  We then had the C-Section discussion.  It went like this:

Dr. V: “If the baby’s heart rate drops again like that, we will have no choice but to get him out as quickly as possible.  I will have to perform an emergency C-section.”

Archer: “Since M has not had an epidural, what will happen with anesthesia?”

Dr. V: “We will try to get her an epidural, but if it is a true emergency, we will have to put her under completely as it is faster.”

M: “I don’t want a C-Section, but I obviously want the baby to be safe.”

She then asked me why I didn’t want the resident to check me, asking if it was “because he is male or because of his technique?”

M: “It was his technique.”

Dr. V: “I see.  I need you to understand that I’m in charge of the entire floor.  I cannot always get here immediately, but the resident can.  If he can’t check you, that slows things down and doesn’t let us see how the baby is doing.”

M: “Yes, I understand that.”

Dr. V: “Plus, this is a teaching hospital, and he has to learn how to do it properly.”

M: “Yes, I’m teacher, so I understand that as well.  He doesn’t, however, have to learn on me.”

Dr. V looked a bit surprised and told me she’d be back in an hour to check on me, reassuring me that she could see my monitors at the main desk.

1:00 pm

My midwife returned from showering and getting some lunch.  My nurse updated her, and she apologized for not being there. 

1:15 pm

My contractions started coming a bit faster, about every 8 to 10 minutes, and they were getting stronger.  I also experienced a lot more back pain.

1:45 pm

By this time, I was in active labor, with contractions every 4 to 5 minutes, lasting for 2 minutes, and I was in back labor.  At some point, the baby had turned, and the pain was excruciating.  I was hooked up to 3 different monitors, and every single time I moved, the baby’s heart rate fluctuated, so just as I did with Wild Man, I labored lying on my left side.  My midwife applied lots of pressure to my hips with every contraction, and Archer did the same on my lower back.  This helped some, making the pain manageable.  I have to admit though I was less than pleasant.  After my conversation with Dr. V, I had decided I was going to have a C-section; this was my way of preparing for that.  On some level, I figured I was going to need the epidural anyway so managing the pain became much more difficult for me. 

2:30 pm

I had an overwhelming desire to push, and I told everyone so.  My nurse called the resident back in, but this time a female resident came to check, and she was much more pleasant than the male resident.  She checked me, and said, “I’m sorry, you’re only 7.  You can’t push yet.”

After she left, my midwife leaned over and whispered, “If you feel the need to push, do it gently.”  So when I felt the need to push, I did.  I continued laboring with her help and Archer continued encouraging me, despite me telling him that I really, really wanted the epidural.

3:05 pm

I again said, “I need to push now.”  So again, everyone came back in, and the resident said, “Yep, she’s fully dilated; let’s get set up.” So the nurses began setting up, and I pushed with L and Archer’s help.  Dr. V walked in and said, “Why isn’t the table set up?”  The nurses couldn’t get my bed broken down to set up the stirrups, and in the meant time, I was still trying to push.  The bed was finally together, and my legs were forcibly put in the stirrups—I hate stirrups.  The resident kept telling me not to push, and I ignored her.  Dr. V looked at me and said, “We need to make sure the baby is in the right position, so stop pushing or you will hurt yourself and the baby.”  So I managed not to push.  Then the baby’s heart rate dropped to 60, and the resident said to me, “M, we’ve got to get your baby out now. Push as hard as you can.”  I wanted to say, “Gee, that’s what I’ve been trying to do for the last 10 minutes.”  So I pushed, and 5 minutes later, George was born.  The NICU nurses wanted to take him right away, but Dr. V quickly determined he was doing well.  She insisted that Archer cut the cord (in fact, she gave him no choice in the matter, which I loved as he hadn’t cut Wild Man or Bear’s cords) and that I be allowed to hold George for a few minutes.  The nurses then took him to the warmer and checked his heart rate and breathing.  He was doing so well that he was back with me in about 10 minutes.  While the resident gave me two stitches (without a local; she reasoned that I’d need 6 “pokes” with stitches and a local but only 4 “pokes” for the two stitches.  I said, “They aren’t exactly ‘pokes,’ but fine.”), Archer and I debated names.  We chose one that hadn’t been in the running long, but that really seemed to fit the baby.  We then had a brief conversation with Dr. V, and she returned me to my midwife’s care. 

In the end, after 15+ hours at the hospital and about 2 hours of active labor, George was born on July 24^th at 3:20 pm, weighing 7 lbs 5 oz and measuring 20 inches long.

Birth Story, Part 1

I have sat down to write G’s (I’m still working on a pseudonym) birth story several times, and every time I’ve been interrupted.  I’m currently writing as he nurses.  I should be trying to rest I know, but I want to get the bulk of this down before I start to forget details.  His birth was long and difficult, so I’m going to use a timeline in an attempt to replicate that.  I’m also going to divide this into at least two posts as I doubt G will cooperate long enough to let me write the whole story in one sitting.

July 24, 12:15 am

A contraction woke me up.  I had been having Braxton hicks contractions for weeks, months really, but this was the first time a contraction had woke me up.  It was stronger than the B-H contractions, but not necessarily painful.  It felt like a long menstrual cramp.  I stayed in bed for a few minutes, and then I had another one.  After three or four, I got up, went to the bathroom, got some water, and then went back to bed.  I wasn’t sure they weren’t B-H contractions, so I was trying to determine if they would stop. 

12:45 am

It was clear they weren’t going to stop, so I woke up Archer.  We talked for a few minutes, and he started timing for me.  They were coming every 4 to 5 minutes and lasting about a minute.  Given my history of fast labor (Wild Man was born after 4 ½ hours of labor and Bear after 2 ½ hours), we decided to call my midwife, and she said she’d meet us at the hospital.  I got dressed, tossed a few things in my bag, and brushed my teeth (weird yes, but I did) while Archer woke up my mom.  She came upstairs to sleep in our bed so she’d be sure to hear Bear and Wild Man when they woke up, and we left for the hospital by 1:10 am.

1:15 am

We met my midwife in the parking garage at the hospital, and she walked us to the labor and delivery ward.  I was checked in, and then we discussed the plan.  My midwife, L, took my vitals, and we discussed how strong the contractions were.  She wanted to get set up, so Archer and I started walking as the contractions weren’t very painful.  We were hopeful that walking would get labor moving along. 

2:00 am

L was set up, and she gave me an IV.  I had tested positive for Group B Strep early in my pregnancy (if fact, L thinks I am one of those rare people who always has it in my body, although my body doesn’t see it as an infection, as I’ve tested positive with every single pregnancy), so I had opted to have the IV antibiotics to prevent the GBS being passed to the baby.

2:30 am

The antibiotics had gone through the IV, so Archer and I started walking again.  We walked off and on till 4:15.  At that point my contractions had slowed down.  I was having them about every 10 minutes, and they were not painful at all.  L offered to break my water, after she checked my cervix (I was 3 centimeters dilated when I came into the hospital, and almost 3 hours later, I was still 3 centimeters).  By this point, I was getting tired, so I agreed.  I reasoned that Wild Man had been induced by simply breaking my water, so maybe that would speed things up. 

4:30 am

L broke my water, and it was painful. It took her several tries to break it, whereas  when it had been broken to induce my labor with Wild Man it didn’t hurt at all.  She told me my cervix hadn’t thinned out at all and that the baby hadn’t dropped.  Considering that we had already passed the 4 1/2 hour mark I was really disappointed.

5:00 am

After L broke my water, I did not have a single contraction.  They stopped.  After waiting for a half an hour or so, I told her that nothing was going on.  She suggested we get some rest. So Archer went to sleep on the couch in the delivery room while I tried to rest in the hospital bed.  I say tried because L checked the baby’s heart rate every 15 minutes, which meant I had to change positions so she could find his heart beat.

6:45 am

L woke me up to check the baby’s heart beat and to ask me what was going on.  I told her: nothing.  She asked me how I wanted to progress, reminding me that since my water was broken we were under a timer of sorts.  I said I was unsure.  I was frustrated because the labor was not progressing, which I had not experienced before.  She reminded me she was in no hurry.  She assured me she was happy to wait labor out, but she did say that if I wanted oxytocin that she’d have to refer me to an OB as in our province midwives are not legally permitted to give a patient oxytocin.  That one threw me, as I didn’t realize that fact.  She encouraged us to go get something to eat and walk some more.  She told me to eat as much as I wanted because an OB wouldn’t let me eat anything from the moment I came under her care.  Archer and I went to the cafeteria, where I ate some fruit salad and a bagel.  I called my mom, explained the situation to her, and checked on Wild Man and Bear.  Then we walked.

8:00 am

We made our way back to labor and delivery where I told L my contractions had not resumed.  I had had several while we walked, but they were not regular nor were they strong.  I said that I was tired, and I wanted to be done.  As much as I didn’t want any interventions, I asked to be assigned to an OB.  L understood, but she suggested trying one more thing.  She had a breast pump, and she told me to pump to see if that would start contractions.  I agreed, hoping it would work.  I pumped for 45 minutes, and I had one strong contraction. 

9:00 am

L contacted the OB on call, after learning it was a doctor she really likes.  Dr. V was in the middle of rounds, so it would be about an hour before she could get to me.

Z's birth story: A comedy

At 3:15 on June 22, 2009, 5 days past my due date, I had an appointment with my midwife for my 41-week check up. My midwife and I had talked in advance, and she had agreed to do a “stretch and sweep,” which is a fairly non-invasive intervention that can induce labor. Essentially a “stretch and sweep” involves a vaginal exam in which the midwife stretches her fingers in the patient’s cervix as far as possible and then runs a finger between the cervix and the bag of waters. My midwife did this twice, and at that time, I was about 3 centimeters dilated and was easily stretching to 5 centimeters. In the event that this didn’t work, we had planned an induction for June 28th, which would have put me at 41 weeks 5 days gestation with Z. I really didn’t want to wait that long for a number of reasons. I did not want to be induced, but I couldn’t bear being pregnant any longer. On top of that, my mom was scheduled to leave that day, and it was going to cost her about $400 to extend her ticket (thanks to the international fair), which neither she nor I could afford.

After my midwife appointment, C and I went home and picked up Wild Man and my mom. It was hot and humid that day, and although the temperature was much milder than anything we’d ever experienced in Southwest College Town, I was uncomfortable. We decided to take Wild Man over to the local bookstore for a while so I could rest in the air conditioning and he could play with the train sets. While C looked at the home improvement section and my mom shopped for books for Wild Man, Wild Man and I played with the trains and read books. It was nice to have some time just for the two of us. After about an hour or so, we headed home as Wild Man was getting hungry. C took Wild Man to the car while my mom and I stood in line to pay for the books she got Wild Man (as an aside, I highly recommend Margaret Atwood’s children’s books; Wild Man loves them!). As Mom paid, she looked at me and asked if I was ok. I said, “Oh, just another contraction, but this one was a bit more painful than the ones I’ve been having for the last month or so.” We left and got in the car. It was about 5 minutes after 5:00 pm then. We drove home, and Mom started reading to Wild Man while C got dinner ready. I went to the bathroom and had another strong contraction. I asked C for his ipod to keep track of the contractions (he had downloaded a labor application a few weeks earlier for us to use), and I distinctly remember thinking that I was glad I’d put chili in the crock pot earlier in the day.

For the next 20 minutes or so, I kept having strong contractions, which lasted about 90 seconds and were 5 minutes apart. Around 5:40 I told C he needed to get my bag ready and that he needed to eat dinner. At that point, I noticed he and my mom exchanged a look. I tried lying on the couch to manage the pain on my own while C tried to eat and Mom fed Wild Man. I vaguely remember C taking stuff to the car, and then I started calling for him to help me manage the pain. He rubbed my shoulders, and then I told him I had to move around. I went from the couch to the bathroom, where I sat on the toilet for a few contractions. On my way there, I stopped in the dining room to reassure Wild Man who was getting a bit concerned for me. He kept calling for me and asking what was wrong. I wasn’t in a position to talk to him, so my mom and C tried to explain things best they could. Around 5:50, I told C that he needed to call our midwife. This was a bit complicated. Our midwife is currently working with a student midwife who is finishing up her clinical rotation. Since C and I are both teachers we had no problem working with the student, whom I’ll call L. We’d be instructed to page L first so she could get practice assessing women in labor. At the time, I really just wanted to bypass L and call my midwife directly because I knew labor was progressing very quickly, but we followed my midwife’s instructions. We called L and waited 10 minutes; when she didn’t call back C asked me if I wanted him to try her again. I said, “Absolutely not! Call my midwife.” By now it was around 6, and the contractions were getting really strong. As we waited for the midwife to call back, I did something really stupid. I went up stairs to the master bathroom to brush my teeth. I got up the stairs in between contractions without C’s help, and I don’t even think he realized I was upstairs until I called for him. Why did I go upstairs (putting me on the third floor of our house)? Well at the bookstore, I had shared a frozen strawberry drink from Starbucks with Wild Man, and I could still taste it in my mouth. I remember thinking, “I cannot have this taste in my mouth the entire time I’m in labor.” Not the smartest decision on my part, but it is what I did.

I managed to brush my teeth and then went to our bedroom to make sure we had everything. At that point I was hit with a really strong contraction and I called for C. He found me leaning over our bed and demanded to know why I’d come upstairs. I looked him straight in the face and said, “I don’t care what I’ve said for the last 9 months; I want the epidural this time. Make sure you tell L and our midwife that.” He didn’t say anything, but later he told me he knew I was entering transition at that point. C managed to help me downstairs to the main floor and just as we got there my midwife called back. C explained what was going on, and he asked me if I could talk to her. I was in the middle of another contraction and trying to hug Wild Man at the time, so I think I said something not very kind to either one of them. C told her that he thought we needed to get me to the hospital quickly. She said she’d call over to the birthing center and make sure they were ready for us and then call back. She called back in about 2 minutes and said we could head over; she then asked if I wanted her to come to the house and check me there. C passed this along to me, and I said “No, I’m going to the hospital now if I have to drive myself.” I then started heading downstairs. C later told me that B, our midwife, found this amusing; she apparently laughed and said she’d meet us there.

By now it was about 6:20. The contractions were coming really quickly, and C kept telling me to keep track on the ipod. I finally told what he could do with his ipod. Wild Man followed me down the stairs and was really upset at this point. He didn’t understand what was going on, but he knew I was hurting and that bothered him. He didn’t want to leave me, and my mom realized he was going to have a major meltdown. She didn’t want him upset and she didn’t want me upset. She looked at me very quickly and said, “M, I’m going to do something you’re not going to like to distract Wild Man. I’m sorry.” She then said to Wild Man, “Let’s go have some ice cream. Would you like to have some ice cream with Nana before we take a bath?” Ordinarily I would have been displeased with using food as a bribe, but given the circumstances I didn’t care. And it worked. Wild Man kissed me and scampered upstairs. My mom kissed me good-bye, told me not to worry about Wild Man, and very sternly instructed C to take care of me. C then helped me to the car. He tried to put me in the front seat, but I went in the back so I could lean over the driver’s seat. He then told me to put my seatbelt on, and I told him to shut up and drive. Luckily we’re only 5 minutes from the hospital.

As luck would have it, C couldn’t find a close parking space, and being stubborn and in a lot of pain, I did not want him to drop me off. I told him, “I don’t care if you have to carry me; you’re not leaving me by myself.” He found a space as close as he could and we started walking to the hospital. He stuck his ticket for the lot in his pocket; we had arrived at the parking lot at 6:32 pm.

To get to the hospital from this lot, you have to walk over a sky bridge that spans the lower parking lot. As soon as we entered the sky bridge, C grabbed a wheelchair and put me in it. The floor on the sky bridge is very bumpy though, and it was not remotely comfortable. Half way across I got out of the wheelchair and walked, stopping every 30 feet or so for a contraction. We finally got to the elevators, and suddenly my labor turned into a comedy of errors. The elevators in this hospital are notoriously slow, so we waited through at least 2 contractions until one arrived that was going down. Somehow C got me on the elevator in the middle of a contraction, and we pushed our way to the back so I could lean against the wall. Now, we were surrounded by 3 nurses and at least 4 doctors. C was so focused on helping me manage the pain that he never asked for a floor, but he said he thought to himself, surely they will push 2 for the birthing center. When the elevator doors opened everyone got out, including us. We headed in the direction of the birthing center, and C said, “Oh, M. I’m so sorry. This is the first floor. We have to get back on the elevator and go up one floor.” I turned toward the elevator and literally pushed a doctor out of my way so I could lean on the wall to get through another contraction. C said the doctor didn’t even seem to notice, and by now, C was getting a bit aggravated that no one was being particularly helpful. As we waited for the elevator, an off-duty nurse saw us and brought us a wheelchair. Being me I refused again to get in it—it literally hurt to sit down at that point. Standing up was the only way I was managing the pain at all. Given that we weren’t able to sit down or even stand still, we weren’t using any relaxation techniques at all. C was trying to get me to the birthing center as quickly as possible, and I wasn’t being particularly cooperative. But as I’ve reminded him, I was in labor!

The elevator finally arrived and we were on the second floor. C demanded I get in the wheelchair, and when I told him no, he literally pushed me down by my shoulders and moved so quickly I couldn’t get out. We got to the birthing center, and he started checking me in. I got up out of the wheelchair, announced that I had to pee, and went into the bathroom. He ended up throwing my wallet at the receptionist and pulled me out of the bathroom. He was concerned I was going to start pushing, but I really just had to pee. I know now that my bag of waters was so low that it was compressing my bladder, making me feel like I had to pee. A nurse showed up then and agreed to take me to the bathroom. C gave what he thought was my health card to the receptionist, but it turned out to be Wild Man’s. So until after Z was born, Wild Man was the one who had been admitted to the hospital. Once the nurse got me to the bathroom, I took my shorts off to go to the bathroom, and then I told her I needed C. She hollered for him, and then she determined that I shouldn’t go to the bathroom. She led me to an exam room, telling C on the way there that a birthing suite was all ready for me. I refused to put my shorts back on, so she and C wrapped a gown around me and we hobbled to the exam rom. She told me to lie down on the bed. The nurse said she’d check me and then get me a gown to change into. As soon as I opened my knees for her to check me, I knew I had to push. She said the words that are the most irritating thing for a woman in labor, “Don’t push.” I squeezed C’s hand as hard as I could and somehow managed not to push. She checked me and announced, “Oh yeah, she’s ten centimeters. Do you have a doctor or a midwife?” C answered, “A midwife, and she’s on her way.” The nurse then said, “I don’t think she’s going to make it in time.” I looked at the clock on the wall and noticed it was 6:55. It had taken us almost 30 minutes to get from the car to the birthing center. Then my midwife walked in.

I started freaking out a bit at that point because the contractions felt drastically different from what I experienced with Wild Man. They were one on top of the other and coming very, very fast. I told C I was scared, and he and B were great at calming me down. The second midwife, who was there to take care of Z once he was born, showed up, and I could finally start pushing. Pushing was such a relief. Instead of being high up on a hospital bed, on my back with my legs in stirrups like I was with Wild Man, I was on a low bed, and I was able to change positions as I wanted to. The room had dim lights, and the only people there were C, the two midwives, and me. I wasn’t hooked up to any monitors, and I didn’t have an IV (although, since I had tested Strep B positive 4 weeks earlier, I was supposed to have IV antibiotics). In between pushes, S, the second midwife, checked Z’s heart rate with her portable fetal monitor, the same kind doctors use to check babies’ heart rates during office visits. For the next 35 minutes I pushed while lying on my side, with one leg stretched out and the other pulled up. I changed positions once, and ultimately I was lying on my left side, holding C’s hand while I pushed. There was no counting this time. C and B encouraged me, but B let me push as many or as few times in a row as I wanted to. I pushed between 3 and 5 times during each contraction, and the 3rd push was always the strongest. After about 20 minutes of pushing my water broke while I was pushing, which was a strange sensation. It wasn’t the big gush I remembered from when Wild Man was born and my water was broken. Instead it was a small gush and then more gushes every time I pushed after that.

By this point, I was tired and ready for the baby to be born. B told me the baby was crowning, and I pushed really hard. When she told me the head was out and to stop pushing, I just looked straight into C’s eyes to have something to focus on. C told me to look down, and because of the position I was in, I was able to see Z being born. As soon as the baby was born, B put him on my chest, and S helped C and I start cleaning him up. I saw his penis right away and looked over at C, who was looking right at me. We were both quiet for a moment, and I then I said, “Well, I guess his name will be Z.” This was the only boy’s name we both liked, and ironically, it was the only name we had agreed to before I’d gone into labor. We’d gone into the delivery room with C preferring one girl’s name and me preferring another. It seems everything turned out for the best! Still, C was a bit taken aback, and said, “You’ve got to be kidding me!” He quickly agreed that we’d name him Z though. At that point, B was so focused on me that she didn’t even realize Z was a boy, and I noticed she gave us a funny look. After she delivered my placenta, she came to the head of the bed and gave Z a good look. She said, “Oh, that’s why you named him Z. I was thinking that was an odd choice for a girl.” We all laughed, and at that moment L, whose pager had not been working properly, arrived. Remember we’d arrived at the hospital, according to the parking meter, at 6:32 pm; Z was born at 7:36 pm. He weighed 8 pounds, 5.9 ounces, and was 22 ½ inches long. He was a full pound and a half heavier and 3 inches longer than Wild Man when he was born.

In the end, I had a first degree tear, which required two stitches, and I had been in labor for about 2 ½ hours. We spent the night in the hospital and went home around 3 the next afternoon. As surprising as it was to take home a little boy, we’re thrilled with our two boys, and Wild Man, who proceeded to call Z his “baby sister” for the next week, seemed very pleased with Z.