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For those interested in the details of the most recent addition to our family:

• 11:00 am – I get a call from my wife. She is calling as she is leaving her doctor appointment for a regular, weekly check-up in the month before her due date. She tells me that we have to go to the hospital. The doctor said to be there in an hour because we’re going to have the baby today, even though my wife isn’t feeling any contractions.
• 11:45 – I get home from work, change my clothes, and help see the kids off to school with their grandparents
• 12:15 – We leave for the hospital
• 12:30 – We check into the hospital (sweet – they have wireless!) and get sent to a triage room to figure out if she really is in labor.
• 1:30 – They finally hook up monitors to see how contractions are going. There are some contractions – they’re just slight enough that my wife had been dismissing them or not noticing them.
• 2:00 – contractions are about every 4 minutes but not very strong
• 2:30 – contractions are more inconsistent, about every 7 minutes but stronger when they do happen
• 4:00 – contractions every 2-3 minutes, much stronger now, slightly painful as opposed to just uncomfortable. I enjoy watching the real-time graph that shows the baby’s heartbeat and the intensity of each contraction. Without that, all I have to go on is how hard she squeezes my hand during the contraction. But now I have some numbers to go along with it!
• 5:00 – It looks like the contractions are good enough, so they now decide that we are going to stay and have the baby. Up until this point, we didn’t know whether they were going to admit us into the hospital or send us back home until we came back with some real contractions. We get moved out of triage and into a normal room.
• 6:30 – contractions are painful, and my wife thinks she is ready to get the epidural.
• 7:00 – contractions are extremely painful now. We wonder where the epidural is, and we are told that they had two emergency C-sections come in and they have priority for the anesthesiologist. He can do the epidural when those are done, which should be soon.
• 7:15 – We are told that the lady next door also needs an epidural, and since she is farther along in labor (a couple of centimeters more dilated), she is getting her epidural first. We hear later that she delivered her baby about 10 minutes after she got the epidural. So if my wife had gotten hers first, then this other lady would not have gotten one at all.
• 7:30 – The anesthesiologist started the epidural. Due to my being voted Most Likely To Faint During An Epidural, I am relegated to the lounge for the next 15 minutes.
• 7:45 – The epidural is done, and I am allowed back in the room. It is more peaceful and less stressful than when I left.
• 8:00 – The doctor broke the water, and everything is ready to go. We know it’s close because the doctor starts setting up the table with all her surgical instruments and towels and stuff and she doesn’t leave.
• 8:25 – The fun begins – it is time to start pushing. Or – in my case – holding, watching, and talking. My wife does not think it’s fun, as this epidural isn’t as strong as the others, or perhaps it hasn’t had enough time to fully kick in.
• 8:31 – Baby is born. He is silent for the first few seconds, but then he starts crying like one would expect. It’s always amazing how the baby can go from not breathing air one second to breathing air the next second.

For those keeping track:

• Baby #1 – at least 90 minutes of pushing.
• Baby #2 – 20-30 minutes of pushing.
• Baby #3 – 6 minutes of pushing.

We can’t have any more kids, as the next one might be in the negative minutes of pushing, and I don’t want to find out what that means.

“As the pregnant woman approaches {the time} to give birth, She writhes {and} cries out in her labor pains, Thus were we before You, O LORD.”
– Isaiah 26:17

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