So the big day had finally arrived...and nothing actually happened.
We had scheduled an inducement four days earlier than Natasha's due date (June 19) for a variety of reasons (her Doctor was going on vacation, back pain, family arrivals) and we assumed that we'd be coming home with a baby...but no one told us that the inducement may not work. It didn't. Tash had a stubborn cervix...or maybe Malcolm just wasn't ready to come out...so we decided we'd just leave it all be and go home (our other options were a second attempt which probably wouldn't have done anything either or a C-section) and wait it out...
So nothing happened while Tash's doctor was away on vacation. We were scheduled for a second inducement for when the doctor returned which would be a week past the due date...so since nothing happened, we went in on Sunday June 26 to try again...and we were told that we would not be going home pregnant.
Tash was made comfortable (the labor rooms at Stamford Hospital are almost like hotel rooms) and given a dose of Cervadil to get her cervix to dilate and efface. By morning she was 1 cm and 50% effaced. Then they started her on Pitosin to get her contractions going. From 9 am until about 1 pm I watched my wife go from being relatively normal to being in excruciating pain.
All I was able to do was be with her and talk to her and make sure she was "distracted" (whatever that means) and not sound like a cliche or a Bill Cosby comedy routine waiting to be slapped silly. The last two hours were the worst, but Tash pulled through. Once she was 100% effaced and 3cm they gave her an epidural.
With all the advances in medicine, I don't understand why anyone wouldn't want to ease the pain if possible...and I certainly don't understand why they don't start this sooner than they did...it was amazing watching the montior register her contractions and have my wife smiling as if nothing was happening.
And then we discovered that Malcolm was just not moving down the canal. He couldn't fit or wouldn't move...so the doctor decided her needed to be taken out via C-Section. While Tash was fine with this and I had come to grips with the possibility during the extra week of waiting, all of my nightmares from the last nine months were starting to boil in my head.
You see, aside from a minor cold and ear infection that Tash had problems getting rid of, this was a pretty boring pregnancy...of course, that's a good thing, but as someone who's been dealt a few tragedies in life and survived, I'm always on the lookout for the other shoe to drop...life doesn't grant you that much ease without something coming round the bend to knock you off your feet...and now that I'm extremely happy, there's that part of me that thinks something bad's gonna happen at some point to rebalance the scales...so my nightmares since the start of the pregnancy have all centered around me being alone at the end of it (of course these were all alternated with odd dreams of Malcolm coming out talking full sentances and my having to prevent the government from taking him for experiments...yes I've seen too many movies)...
So when we made the decision to have the C-Section I was extremely worried...sure...it's a relatively "routine" procedure and there was no emergency situation to make the doctor have to rush through it...but it's still major surgery...and as someone who's had their abdomen cut open, I knew what Tash was in for by way of recovery...
Being in the opreating room was weird for me. I sat on a stool near Tash's head...and that was all I saw as everything else was screened off from the two of us. I had my digital still camera to capture the family once we were given Malcolm but had second thoughts about taking a picture of my wife in such an odd condition. I'd be holding the baby while she's on display from the arm pits up??? That's not a fun sight, but we decided to do it anyway (it's not a bad picture...just an odd one...I don't wuite understand the reasons some people videotape births...I can't imagine watching one on DVD at a later date...especially after Tash, who agreed with me about not taping it, had forced me to watch nine months of episodes of "A Baby Story" on TLC.
We got something of a play by play from the doctor and the anasthesiologist as to what was happening and we were told that it may be a minute or two after the baby was out before we heard him...but soon enough (about 20 minutes in) we heard him and a few minutes later I was holding my son for the first time.
I've always been afraid of handling small things. I'm a big guy and I'm clumsy and here I am now holding this tiny little thing who seems just as unsure of his surroundings as I am. I held him close for Natasha to see. We took a few pictures and then the nurse took him and me from the OR and we went upstairs. On the way we picked up both grandmothers and one grandfather who had been patiently waiting in the labor room and we all went up to the maternity ward while Natasha was being put back together.
As we stood outside the nursery window watching the nurses take Malcolm out of the incubator they had put him in to transport, he grabbed on to lip of the opening and wouldn't let go. And he started crying. The nurse had to pry his fingers away...it was a very surreal, funny and sad sight. We watched them clean him up more and give him a battery of tests. I left my mother-in-law (henceforth known as Ba Ba) to keep an eye on him while my parents and I went to get all our stuff we had left in the labor room (plus I desperately wanted to change out of the scrubs I was wearing...they were a size too small for me and breathing through the mask kept fogging up my glasses).
By the time everything was moved upstairs, Natasha had been moved to recovery...so I checked on her. She was sleepy, but doing just fine. I spent an hour or two checking on my wife and son (separated by a few floors). Once they finally moved her into a room, they brought Malcolm into us and she fed him...apparently he's a breast man just like his dad. We spent about an hour with a few family visitors and then I left my wife and son for the night to get a good night's sleep at home (at least we all thought I'd get a better night's sleep at home than I would have at the hospital)...
Tomorrow...Malcolm's first full day in the world.
Be seeing you.
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