Charlie's birth came as quite a surprise actually. Here it was, Thursday March 5th, and I was standing by the phone hyperventilating. I had just gotten a call from the nurse at the hospital that my doctor had ordered am imnduction immediately. But I wasn't due for another 3 1/2 weeks! I had been having some pretty serious swelling in my hands, feet and face, and they had been closely monitoring me for pre-eclampsia. I had just been in for a regular appointment, and they had gotten the results of some tests back. My platelet level had dropped dramatically, and my blood pressure was now 160/70, usually it's 90/50. She wanted the baby out TODAY. As I stood with the phone in my hand I tried to think clearly, and determine what I needed to do first. The nurse had said to go to the maternity wing ASAP. First I called my husband at work, he freaked out, and raced home. In the meantime I quickly finished packing the hosital bag(s)-luckily I had packed them weeks earlier, just in case. Then I remembered I had to find a place for the dog. Sometime after calling the kennel, I realized that I was acting like a maniac, and calmed down a little bit. The baby could wait a few more hours, and running around wasn't probably the best thing to do anyway.

So we packed up all our gear, and the dog, dropped him off at the kennel, and headed over to the hospital (a whole mile away). I insisted on carrying my own bag, even though Mike got mad at me for it. He had enough to carry. We went up to the maternity wing, and checked in. It felt strangely like going into a hotel. I always pictured having to make a mad dash to the hospital at the last second. This was really weird. They ushered us into the room, and told me to put on the old hospital gown (I hate those things), and get into bed. So far this was a piece of cake, although I was a little nervous about the whole induction. After all, I had skipped that part in all of my pregnancy books, and had half-listened to the induction lecture at lamaze. I felt like I did in high school when I'd forget about a quiz on a certain day, and arrive unprepared!

About an hour later, my doctor came in, and talked to us a bit about the induction process. She also took my BP, which now had dropped. They decided not to induce on Thursday, since I was still at 36 1/2 weeks. Since my BP had dropped, she explained, they would monitor me closely over the weekend, and possibly start induction Sat night. After she left, Mike was a little upset. He was mad that they made us rush over, acting like it was a big emergency, and now I was going to have to be on bedrest, at our expense, when I had been doing the exact same thing at home, free.

Then the nurse (one of about 10 that I would have in the next week), Julie came in, announcing that it was time for the monitors. She strapped me all up, and I remained that way until dinnertime. I was allowed to eat (fried chicken, hushpuppies, fried okra, cornbread, iced tea and a brownie). I thought this was pretty ironic, seeing as I was so swollen, all that grease and salt was counteractive! Instead I had Mike get me a salad from the cafeteria downstairs. That night I was hooked up to the monitor, as well as the BP machine. Things were still ok, I was in pretty good spirits-little did I know that would change! Mike left to sleep at our apartment around 9pm. I was a little lonely, and getting pissed off trying to sleep with those darn monitors on. A nurse also had to come in every few hours and take my BP. So much for a good night's sleep.

Friday was a repeat of Thursday, except it seemed a lot longer. My doctor announced that they'd keep me there over the weekend, and start inducing Sunday night. Once they started that, I'd have to remain in bed, and would not be allowed to eat. I hoped that the process would be fast. Mike again went home to sleep, and I knew I wouldn't see him for a while. He's in the army, and had drill that weekend, so he'd be busy all day on Saturday. Sleeping that night was hard again. I was in a birthing bed, great for labor, but bad for sleeping. I tried pushing all the controls, and fiddling around (not easy with stuff hooked up to me), but it still didn't feel right.

Saturday morning I woke to Mike's voice-he had gotten permission to skip drill! I was really happy. I was hoping that they'd let him, after all, his wife was going to have a baby!! Saturday dragged. My doctor popped her head in, and explained that they would start induction tonight, around 5pm. I begged to be allowed to walk around, and she gave me the ok. It felt so good to get up and walk after being "strapped" down for the past 3-4 days. We must have walked for the whole afternoon-I didn't care that I was in my robe, it just felt good to get out of that room. We walked past rooms, hearing the sounds of babies crying, and excited relatives laughing. I wished that could have been us, I was getting tired of waiting.

At 5pm, the nurse came in, with the prostiglandins gel. Putting it in hurt like hell-I swear she had her whole hand up there. She announced that I was about 1cm dialated. As the gel started, it burned a little bit. Now I had to stay in bed, with the monitors on. We fell asleep to the sound of the baby's heartbeat.

Sunday morning at 4am, the "fun" started. The nurse came in and started an IV. Let me just say that I'd rather have a root canal. She got it in without too much trouble though. They kept it dripping for a while, then hooked up the pitocin. All day Sunday it dripped away, causing some mild contractions, nothing major. I grew hungrier and hungrier, and begged to eat, but the nurses said I wasn't allowed to. Finally Mike started slipping me crackers, which helped a little bit, but I was still ravenous. Every few hours they came and did an internal, and I cried every time they did it, it hurt so much. I was still not making any progress, and getting more and more upset, being hungry, tired, achy from laying in bed, etc, etc. Finally I begged them to unhook me from the pit, let me walk around, and eat supper. They called in my doctor, and she gave the ok. They even took out the IV. I took a shower, ate, then walked around until 10pm. At 10 they did another internal, still no progress, did the gel, and I went to bed. At 4am Monday morning they again started the IV/pit drip.

Monday was hard. I was starting to have strong contractions from the pitocin, which they had been steadily cranking up. I used my lamaze breathing, but it was starting to get pretty hard. Sleeping that night was futile-having on a BP cuff, fetal monitor, and IV/pit was a pain. I had to also try to sleep on my left side. AAARRRRGH!

Tuesday morning I woke to a terrible contraction. Even Mike was impressed after looking at the monitor readout. He said it looked like a Colorado landscape, all the surges. Every minute dragged, the contractions were getting closer and closer, and harder. Finally at 11:30 am, after two days of hard contractions, I had enough. I asked for an epidural, and even Mike seemed relieved. The woman came in and started it. I didn't even feel it go in, I was right in the middle of a contraction. It finally took effect after about 10 minutes. As much as I wanted a totally unmedicated birth, I think I made the right choice for myself. After half an hour, the nurse put an oxygen mask on me, apparently the baby needed a little more oxygen. Finally I was able to sleep a little bit, monitors, tubes, mask and all.

I woke up at 1:45, and Mike was watching a movie, all of a sudden I felt something snap inside me. I said, "oh my god, I think my water just broke-either that or I peed all over myself!!" He checked, and said he thought it was the water. So he buzzed the nurses, and one came in to check. She also did an internal (didn't feel a thing!), and said that I was almost fully dilated! Yay! She left us to our movie. All of a sudden I said to Mike, "I feel like I have to push-it's weird!". He jumped up, freaked out, and buzzed the nurse's desk. They came running down and took a look. Turns out the baby's head had started to crown! Then everyone was running around-they beeped my doctor, adjusted the bed, got everything ready. My doctor came running in, sat down and said, "ok, are you ready to push?" Yeah, I'd been ready for this moment for the last 9 months! So I got ready, and pushed when they directed me to. After two pushes, he was out!! Hearing him cry was incredible, Mike alternated between "oh my god" and "way to go sweetie!". I just laid there and looked at everything-it had all happened so fast, it still didn't seem real. He was born at 2:09, a very small, very skinny little old man, with reddish hair.

They did all the work on him, but kept saying that he was so tiny. Afterwards we learned he was 4 pounds, 13 oz, and 16 1/2 inches long. The Dr. explained that sometimes with pre-eclampsia, the placenta stopps functioning, and the baby drops off the growth curve. She thinks he stopped growing around the 33rd week. His apgar scores were 9 and 10 though, we were very happy. I finally got to hold him after about half an hour. He tried to nurse immediately, and almost figured it out. By that night he had it down pat, and they brought him in every hour to nurse. At first I was leery about sending him to the nursery, but I had such little sleep over the previous days, and was just exhausted. We decided to send him away only at night. They unhooked all the monitors and tubes, what a relief! Mike got them to bring my supper a little early, at 3pm. Even though it was more of the same southern fried fare, I wolfed it down. Afterwards, I asked if I could get up and walk around. The nurses said no, so I nicely asked if they could double-check with my doctor. Luckily she said yes. I hopped out of bed, and proceeded to buzz through the halls with Mike trying to keep up. I think we walked for a few hours, it felt so incredible to be un-pregnant, and out of that bed, with nothing hooked up to me!

They kept us there Wed., and part of Thursday. We were allowed to leave Thurs. afternoon, a whole week after we had initially checked in, expecting to only be there a few days. Ha!

So all in all, the experience was contrary to everything I had on my birth plan. I had wanted a no-intervention, natural birth. I had a medical, medicated one. It's still hard to deal with the fact that nothing went as planned, except the outcome. However, when I look at his little face, it all seems worth it.

Charlie is now almost two months old, 23", and weighs 9-something pounds. Everyone stops me wherever I go, saying "Oh what a small baby! How old is he?" Sometimes when I get tired of explaining why he's so small, I just say he's a few weeks old. :) He feeds like a demon, too, because he has a lot of catching up to do. But slowly and surely, he is catching up!

Kris :)