Evan's Birthday! July 1, 2008

On Monday, June 30th I had a routine doctor's appointment and went in hoping that I was progressing normally and would be able to avoid having an additional procedure for induction. On the contrary, I was not any further along than I was the week before and was told to be at the hospital at 6:00 p.m. that evening to receive a medication called cervidil. This would help the effacement and dilation so labor would begin. My best friend, Sally, who arrived on Sunday, accompanied us to the hospital to begin what would become the most rewarding, painful and terrifying experience of my life.

Upon arrival on the labor and delivery floor, I was given a room and received the "schedule for labor". I would receive the cervidil and then they would begin the pitocin (the drug to start the labor process) at 4:30 the next morning. I was excited to get it underway but still really nervous about what labor would entail. Honestly, even after going through it, I still do not think I can adequately describe what it is actually like, but I shall try!

After two failed attempts to place the cervidil correctly, a new nurse was summoned and, complete with her giant diver's watch, she stuck her arm in and placed the small device behind my cervix. Now the party could begin. I was instructed to wait about 45 minutes before getting up and then I could move freely. Just to be safe I waited two hours before making the glamorous walk to the restroom with an open-backed gown and dragging an IV and two monitors. Imagine my delight when I discovered that I actually passed my mucus plug (ask someone--I don't even want to explain what it is). Woo-Hoo! This was actually happening!

Things seemed to go well that night. I was uncomfortable and could not really rest, but that was not new. I was having some really mild contractions, but that had been happening for a few days, so all was fine. It was not until 3:30 a.m. when they went in to get the cervidil and could not find it, that I began to worry. I then took my shower before the pitocin and imagine my surprise when I passed the actual mucus plug. It is my assumption that the earlier plug was actually the cervidil---perhaps Nursey would've had better reach without the giant, freakin' watch on her arm! I was still only dilated one centimeter, so they started the pitocin and I braced myself for the ride to come.

The contractions started pretty quickly and, at first were pretty tame, but, within about three hours, they were fast and strong and hitting hard every two to three minutes. I was managing but feeling really tired and hesitant to ask for any medication because it felt better to be able to get up and move around. After Dr. Flowers broke my water around 7:00 a.m., I tried to really focus on breathing through the contractions and remaining calm. My calm strategy worked until about 10:00 a.m. when I was so tired, I asked for something for pain. It helped some and I was able to doze through the contractions for about an hour. By noon I knew I wanted an epidural and finally asked for it about 12:30 p.m. After the epidural, I did relax...but not for long.

Shortly after the procedure, the baby's heart rate dropped and my blood pressure plummeted. A team of nurses rushed into the room and I was being turned vigorously from side to side and given oxygen immediately. Dr. Flowers was in the room very quickly to let me know we needed to do a c-section; it seems I have a very narrow pelvis. "Really!", I exclaimed. "That is the part of me that is petite?" As frustrating as I found that tidbit of information, I just wanted to ensure the baby's safety, so I agreed to the c-section.

Within minutes (that felt like hours to Lance in his "Daddy Scrubs") I was wheeled into the operating room and they began prepping me for surgery. Other than some unpleasant nausea and feeling short of breath, things were going well. Then I heard someone say, "Did anyone go get Dad?" Apparently in the frenzy of my temporary sickness, they forgot Lance. By the time they brought him in the surgery was underway and Evan Cherie Morse was born at 1:44 pm weighing 7 pounds, 1 ounce and measuring 19.5 inches.

I wish I had the breadth of vocabulary to describe what it felt like to hear her cry for the first time. It was almost as if I had taken my first breath as well. Things would never be as they were before; a new life began for all three of us. Happy Birthday my precious girl!

--Sara