Sorry it took so long to get the birth story posted, but it took me a while to feel well enough to sit at the computer long enough to write this...
Billy's birth story begins on April 24, one day past my due date. Granny Lyn (who was staying with us to help with the birth) was upstairs sleeping, and Jeremy and I were hanging in the living room, watching TV. Jeremy was massaging my cankles and feet, which had swollen to the size of NFL footballs. In fact, all of me was swollen, and growing larger by the day. I was VERY ready to have the baby, and extremely disappointed that I'd gone past my due date. I was beginning to think Billy would NEVER vacate his cozy one-bedroom home.
At around 11:30 p.m. I stood up and announced to Jeremy that the baby was NEVER going to come. Then I headed for the restroom. Those were famous last words. Billy chose that moment to prove his mother wrong (the first of many such moments I'm sure!). While in the bathroom, I finally experienced some "action" - the first hint of impending labor. It looked like I'd started to lose my mucus plug. I panicked and yelled for Jeremy. Then we woke up Granny Lyn. After a bit of debate, we decided to go to bed and wait and see what happened. Mom and Jer agreed: If I was heading into labor soon, it was important that I get some sleep while I could.
I couldn't sleep, and at 12:30 a.m. on the 25th, my water broke. Not the big gusher that you see dramatized in the movies and on TV, more like a leaky faucet. I still wasn't convinced this was the real deal - I didn't WANT my water to break first. I knew from our childbirth class (and by obsessively watching birth stories on Discovery Health Channel and TLC) that if my water broke before I went into labor, I'd be under a time constraint to have the baby (doctors will only let you labor for 24 hours once your water is broken to reduce the chance of infection). But by 2 a.m. Mom and Jer had me call my doctor's office. I was shocked when the OB on call told me to head into the hospital.
By 3:30 a.m. I was in a gown and on the table in Triage.
(and still perky enough to give a half-assed thumbs up!) I was terrified they'd send me home (because I wasn't in labor yet), and terrified that they'd keep me! They checked my cervix and found out that I was only a fingertip dilated, and not really effaced. I barely had any contractions, but my water definitely had broken, so they admitted us.They hooked me up to an IV and we waited and hoped that my labor would start up on its own. By 5 a.m. I was having contractions that felt like strong menstrual cramps, but they weren't holding to a consistent pattern and actually would decrease when I'd get up and walk around. My OB wanted to start me on Pitocin (a drug that is identical to the natural Oxytocin your body produces which stimulates labor and milk production) to get my labor going (remember, I was on the 24 hour deadline!), but I was afraid of it. I was hoping to do this delivery au naturale, and I'd heard that Pitocin contractions are more painful than what your body does on its own.
By 9 a.m. we got a new set of nurses, and a new doc from my OB office. Dr. Mark (who would end up delivery me) finally convinced me to begin the Pitocin. By Noon the drug had started to do its job - the contractions were coming at 3 minutes apart, and it was getting harder to breathe through them. You can see by the look on my face I wasn't having such a good time... (click for larger view to see just how miserable I was!)
Just three hours later I was in agony. My contractions had turned into back labor, and I gave in and requested the epidural. Remember, I'd wanted to do natural childbirth, so this was a real disappointment for me. The other deciding factors were that I'd only managed to dilate about a centimeter on my own, and the pain was actually hindering my progress. My body just wouldn't relax enough to let my uterus do its job and open up my cervix. I cried when I made my decision, and I cried in pain when they put the epidural in! Instead of the "pressure" that the anesthesiologist promised me as he inserted the epidural, I felt everything as pain: the needle being placed, the medicine going in. All this through back labor! I was a weepy, hysterical mess.
So far, my labor was not going how I'd planned it. I joked that I was "Borg-ing" out (a little Star Trek humor) because I was hooked up to so many monitors - baby's heart rate, my blood pressure, the contractions, was on a couple different IVs for pain and fluids - and all the while I was actually getting MORE swollen as the docs pumped fluids into my body. I felt half woman, half machine! But oh, the relief! I was actually able to catch some sleep in short bursts while Mom worked on her laptop and Jer tried to rest in a recliner nearby.
At around 6 p.m. Billy's heart rate started to decelerate with the contractions, but he bounced back and my labor was allowed to continue... but by nine-ish, the epidural had worn off. I was getting this horrible back pain, I'm talking unbearable, and we kept trying to up the dose to make it go away. The anesthesiologist was called back in to "top off" my epidural. Once it finally started working again, the doc checked me, and to his, and everyone else's surprise, I was 9.5 centimeters complete - it was almost time to push!
My body started shaking. I tried some practice pushes, and after about 20 minutes or so, the epidural started to wear off. It was too late to get any more pain meds now. Finally I was getting the natural childbirth experience I wanted...
... and now regretted! (Be careful what you wish for, right?) I could not believe how much pain I was in. My back was killing me. I was in full on transition, and even started to vomit - something else I'd never prepared myself for, because I hardly ever vomit. I didn't even have morning sickness!
Mom and Jeremy each manned a leg, and I started pushing in earnest. For close to three hours I pushed! I was crying, hyperventilating, panicking, and being a total baby about the whole thing - in between pushes of course. About halfway through, Billy's heart rate went down again and Dr. Mark tried to use the vacuum pump to help pull Billy out. I have to say that was an experience I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. Billy had too much hair and the suction cup kept popping off. And the feeling of it! Having to push while the doc pulled... and being able to feel EVERYTHING... it was horrific. Against nature. SERIOUSLY painful. I was ready to have the c-section. I honestly didn't think I'd be able to deliver Billy on my own.
But Billy's heart rate bounced back again, and an hour later, after pushing all by myself, William James was finally delivered at 12:45 a.m. on April 26th. All 8 pounds, 4 ounces of him. Jeremy cut the umbilical cord, and as I'd requested, Billy was taken straight to the warmer, rather than being plopped on my chest. Which was a good thing because I was too exhausted and shaking too hard to hold him. And in too much pain as the doc stitched me up and massaged my uterus to be much of a mommy.
Instead, Jeremy got to hold Billy first. Granny Lyn was next, although I'm surprised they could hold
ANYTHING after they had to hang onto my legs for 3 hours straight! It was a crazy, emotional experience. I was both amazed that I had the strength to endure that much pain, and proud of myself! And at the same time I was disappointed that Billy's birth didn't go according to my "plan." That my body didn't "perform" the way I wanted it to, and that I wasn't tougher.
But I definitely couldn't have done it without my mom and my husband - they both kept me sane throughout the ordeal.
I'll spare you MORE lengthy descriptions of the recovery - below are more photos from the recovery and hospital stay:
Granny Lyn holds Billy right after he's born.
Exhausted new mom Karyn finally holds Billy for the first time.
An hours-old Billy snuggles on his mom's shoulder.
Exhausted but proud dad Jeremy holds Billy.
Billy sleeps in the hospital bassinet.
The family goes home.
Grandpa Bill started trying to convert Billy from a Cardinals fan to a Mets fan within the first few minutes of meeting his grandson... shortly after this photo was taken, Grandpa Bill started singing the Mets song... counter indoctrination... much to Daddy's horror.
Grandpa "innocently" looks up and says, "Wha...?" after singing the Mets song to Billy.
Grandma Dar meets Billy for the first time. Cute!
Billy sleeps on Auntie Kris' lap.
Auntie Kris stayed the whole week and helped out Mommy and Daddy a lot. She was especially good at keeping Billy happy so Mommy could get some extra sleep...
Billy also got some snuggling time with Daddy on the couch...
Auntie Kris sings to Billy. He's just about to turn 3 weeks old!
He gets a swing from his grandparents, and takes to it right away...
Grandpa plays with Billy... Note the Cardinals cap in the background... (Grandpa will have to work harder to change this Cardinals baby to a Mets fan...) Go Redbirds!
Billy is so tired from his visitors, he passes out in Grandpa's arms...
Billy misses his Auntie and his Grandparents already... he doesn't behave as well for his mommy as he did for them!
But he's so cute, Mommy forgives him. Here he is in his Baby Bear hat - the first thing Mommy and Daddy ever bought him.
Billy artfully poses for the camera in Auntie Kris' arms. He was 3 weeks old in this photo.
Billy's all bundled up in a towel after a sponge bath. He hates getting a sponge bath. Hopefully the pediatrician will give him the go-ahead to start bathing in a tub at his doc's appointment this week. 
Finally, a close up of our little Monkey lounging on the bed after a diaper change. Daddy calls that t-shirt Billy's "Padawan" outfit.
