First of all – thank you to everyone for your support, love and good wishes over the last several months. This blog has been a fantastic way for us to share this incredible time with all of our friends and family, and I love seeing your comments and knowing you are all rooting for us!

*** I decided to record this experience in some detail, so please don’t read it if you will be offended by that sort of thing.

The birth was an incredible experience. I started recording contractions at 2:40pm on Thursday (I still have the sticky note). I couldn’t believe it when they started getting closer and stronger – I was sure it was another false alarm. I called Michael and asked him to make sure he got home by 6pm that night, just to make sure, and he agreed. Luckily, Michael is the smart one in the trio (!) and left pretty much immediately. Its a good thing he did because by 4:45, the contractions were 7 min apart!!! The hospital wants you to wait until you have 3 contractions every 10 minutes, but since mine progressed so quickly, Michael and I decided to go in then.

I called the grandmas as promised, and put up my hospital bound posting here and on Facebook. The whole process was quite exciting; the time was finally here! We got to the hospital at 6pm and they were just getting the room ready, which took about an hour. It sucked to be standing in a hallway moaning and groaning, and I apparently got a little princess-y. Michael was holding my overnight bag in one arm and me in the other, and the bag touched my belly and I started yelling about how “that bag” better not touch me again. Hee hee! Anyway, they finally got us into a room at 7pm and checked me out. I was about 4cm dilated, so they told me to go for a little walk. I was so mad because I felt like I must have been ready to explode, and now they wanted me to WALK???? So we went across the street to the grocery store, picked up some bottled water for me and a sandwich for Michael and slowly made our way back. I say slowly because I could only walk about 10 feet before I would have another contraction. We were back up to the delivery room by 7:30, when they did another check and found that I was 7cm dilated. I asked them to put me in the birth pool, with the intention of having a water birth. So they got the pool ready, and I was submerged by 7:45pm. It felt really good to be under water, except that it was too hot. Its funny because my one concern about water birth was that I would be too cold! You would think the concern would be being naked in front of strangers, but let me tell you, modesty flew out the window. A marching band and 12 pied pipers could have come through and I wouldn’t have noticed or cared. In fact a student doctor asked to watch the birth and we agreed. He was very quiet and helped the midwife a lot. I found out later it was the first birth he had witnessed. Michael was right behind me (not in the water), giving me water and air when I wanted it. He also tried to put my hair in a ponytail. Good thing we didn’t have a baby girl cause it was kind all over the place – not that I cared! It was very peaceful and calm, until the water temperature monitor started going off. The battery was dying and it just kept annoyingly beeping. I think this part was pretty boring for everyone, except me. I remember feeling the amniotic sac and thinking it was the head, then being really disappointed when the midwife said it was just the sac. They encourage you to be very “interactive” with your body, so I was able to see in a mirror and feel whatever I wanted. Again, all inhibition just went and I feel like I was able to really be a part of the whole thing. So at some point my temperature rose up to 38 degrees C (about 100 degrees F), which can be dangerous for moms and babies, and they told me I had to get out. I was not happy, and I believe I refused to get out several times before they explained the baby might get hurt. I still didn’t want to get out, but did it anyway. Michael and the midwife helped me to a birth bed and I think I started to feel like I had to push. I was hanging onto the back of the bed – kind of kneeling and leaning over the bed back, so gravity would be on my side. But even as I pushed and pushed, I wasn’t making a lot of progress, so they asked me to get out of bed and get on a yoga ball, which can speed things along – gravity and motion are even more on your side when you are totally upright. So I bounced around on that for a few minutes and the midwife asked me to stand up to check my progress. She was going to check to see if my water broke, and as she reached up to do this, it did… all over me, the midwife, and poor Michael’s sandals and feet. Ewwww. So they got me back in bed and told me to really start pushing. There is just no way to describe the intensity of the desire to push. I have never felt any sensation that even remotely compares. It comes from deep inside of you and it is so powerful that it hurts. Plus you have to hold your breath and chin down push for what seems like forever. You push with each contraction so you have this intense squeezing, unbelievable pain, and the need to push – all coming at you at once. I remember How supportive Michael was – pushing and breathing (and joking around saying its all yoga, which is a joke that started with myself and Kathleen stemming from a yoga class we took) right along with me. Ryan (Michael’s brother) asked me to watch for Michael’s reactions if I could, and he looked like he was in awe – overwhelmed with what was going on – his eyes were wide open just taking it all in. And he was very focused on me and on watching what was going on. He kind of reminded me of a tourist seeing an amazing sight – definitely there, totally enthralled, and overwhelmed by the intensity. I was on my back with legs straight in front of me, pushing away – with each contraction, Michael would grab one leg and the midwife the other, and they would bring my thighs up to my chest to make the pushing more efficient. Then on the next contraction, they rolled me on my left and did the same thing, but with just the right thigh. It was so annoying to be shuffled around every minute, and everyone was yelling for me to push. I thought I was annoyed before…. ummmm… yeah, I AM pushing dummies.

Initially, Michael and I both felt a little weird about him watching the birth, but during the event, it seemed very natural for him to peer down and see what was happening. He said it was pretty intense. Most babies come out facing toward the back, so the first thing he saw was the crown of the back of his head, which was kind of purplish and wrinkly. The frustrating part of giving birth is that everything happens in millimeters, and every time I would push him a millimeter forward, it seemed like he would go back 3. Eventually, I pushed him far enough where he reached the tops of his ears, and at that point, the midwife was able to kind of hold him in place after each push, so the progress from that point on was crazy fast. She told me to stop pushing – the idea being that if you hold back it allows the skin to stretch, and therefore you don’t tear. I was able to stop pushing for about 5 seconds, but my contractions just took over at that point and he came flying out. Michael said that for all the time it took to get to that point, the last minute was a rush of baby, amniotic fluid, blood, and meconium. Unfortunately, the meconium (baby’s first bowel movement, which ideally happens after he is born) in the fluid may have caused him to have a small respiratory issue. They popped him up on my chest where he cuddled in for about 1 minute. Then we noticed his respiratory rate was at about 90 breaths a minute, and it should be between 40 and 60. The midwife clamped Zev’s cord and asked Michael to cut it. Then the baby doctor had to take him from me and put him under a special heat lamp while he was monitored for complications. I was so fearful – I didn’t know what was happening and I couldn’t see anything either. But I knew Michael was there with Zev and would let me know if anything was wrong. At that point I looked down and saw this crazy blue and purple twisted cord snaking out of me. It wasn’t disgusting, but fascinating to see such a thing. The midwife took some blood from the cord to test for the baby’s blood type (I am Rh negative, and they needed to see if I needed an antibody shot if Zev was Rh positive, which he is). They also needed to test his blood gasses due to the mecomium. I started contracting again, as I still had to deliver the placenta. It came out in one push, and looked like a giant liver. With that crazy blue and purple twisted cord snake on it! It was huge. Just huge. Zev was still on the table at this point and I was quite scared still. Then I went into shock! My body started violently shaking to the point that I thought I was having a seizure! Everyone was looking at Zev and I had a flash of thinking that was it for me! Luckily, I rarely overreact. Turns out, I had just lost so much blood and heat in such a short amount of time that I was just super cold. They started piling on the blankets which helped pretty quickly. Poor Michael was torn between standing over me and over the baby.

That’s when they told us he was 9lbs, 13 oz, that I was fine and Zev was likely to be just perfect, too, but he might have to spend a few days in the NICU (which never ended up being necessary). After a small eternity, they brought Zevry over to me and cuddled him in. He immediately latched on and started feeding hungrily. Then everyone left our new little family alone for about an hour of magic. Michael and I marveled over his size, his sweetness, his general perfection, and his very presence.

Next up, our first night.