The Ninja arrives...

Warning: super long post ahead.

As many of you know, Baby Ninja has made its arrival and it's a boy!

The stats:

Name: James Schreiber Keogh (named after my Grandfather)
Date: November 16, 2012
Time: 5:26 am
Weight: 8 lbs, 4 oz
Length: 20.5 inches

The story:

For those of you who have visited my blog before you probably remember this post announcing our impending delivery. During most of this pregnancy I was scared to deliver. Scared isn't a strong enough word. I was almost panic-attack-inducing-frightened. My first experience was traumatizing: ridiculously long induction process (I admit, my choice, we could have used other methods to get things moving faster), stabbing back pain they never solved, a failed epidural after I admitted I was not strong enough to do this without it after 40 hours of liquid only food and zero sleep, maximum amounts of various narcotics topped off with hours of cycling between black out to pain inducing panic to black out to...etc.

Now, after freaking everyone out about labor, let me tell you this about delivery #2: it could not have been more different.

Thursday morning, Nov 15, I started having contractions around 2 am. Ed gets off work Wednesday night around midnight so he was still awake (sort of). We started timing them and they ranged everywhere from 8 minutes to 13 minutes to 35 minutes apart. Around 6 am we decided to call my parents since they were our support plan for EV, just to let them know we were going to call the doctor in a few hours to see what they thought. Contractions stopped around 7 am and we decided to wait until my regularly scheduled appointment at 11:45 to see my midwife, Liz.

She checked me and estimated I was at 2 cm. We made an appointment for Monday just in case I didn't go into active labor during the weekend. Funny, one of the things I remember from this appointment is her telling me she is having a new washer and dryer delivered on Friday anywhere between 2:15 and 5:15 so please don't have the baby then. I told her I was just hoping to have the baby before Thanksgiving...I did not want to have contractions for an entire week!

Afterwards we grabbed lunch from Panera, hit up our favorite bakery for some croissants we love and headed home. Contractions were irregular most of the day. Around 7 pm Ed took EV to the YMCA for some Daddy/Daughter swim time. We've been very conscious of giving her lots of attention and keeping her schedule as similar as possible. I was having the irregular contractions during that time but didn't think anything of it. When they returned the contractions had stopped...again. I thought I was in for a long week of start...stop...start...stop. Nope, I was wrong.

9 pm: contractions 6 minutes apart, regularly...and increasing in strength. I had talked to Mom and Dad earlier in the day asking them to come down since we didn't know when this would all happen. Dad wanted to stop at Grandma Marx's house first so they were more delayed than I anticipated. Called them and they were still hours away. No big deal, right? My labor with EV lasted a while and I wasn't even sure I was in labor. Wrong again...it was a big deal.

My original plan with both kids has always been to labor at home as long as I could then head to the hospital. Obviously this never happened with Baby Viking. Liz kept reminding me during appointments they needed 5 hours to give me antibiotics since I am positive for the Group Strep B. I let her know I wasn't that tough and I would be in the hospital well before the 5 hour limit.

The contractions were getting stronger and closer together. I had stopped asking Ed the time in between but instead wanted a 1 minute warning so I could prepare. I did start noticing they were coming earlier than his estimate...these were getting closer together. At 9 pm I could still talk through them and walk around during the 30 seconds of contraction. Around 11 pm I had to pause and bend over a little bit.

We called the 800 number to have them page Liz. Since the contractions still weren't that bad in my mind I told her I was at a 3 or 4 on the pain scale (although I did say I wasn't very good with the pain scale). I let her know my parents would be there in about an hour and half and she said that would be a good time to come in anyways. So, we set our sights on 12:30.

At midnight I was on my hands and knees, squeezing Ed's hand as hard as I could for what now was nearing 45 seconds of contractions and 4 and a half minutes apart. Mom and Dad were still 30 minutes away. We had loaded up the car around 10:30 just in case and when Mom and Dad pulled up, Dad wasn't even out of the car yet and I was headed out the door. I couldn't wait any longer.

Had a few contractions on the literally 6 minute drive to the hospital, parked in the ER parking like they said, walked in and couldn't remember where to go. I asked the staff behind the desk, jokingly, "if I thought I was going to have a baby, where would I go?" They all laughed and pointed me in the right direction. Good sign, I still had my sense of humor.

Got up to the floor, checked in, changed and had to ask the nurse to pause a few times during directions since I couldn't concentrate. Liz was already at the hospital since another patient of hers was also in labor. She had delivered another baby earlier in the day so she was in for a possibly long night/day. They started an IV in my hand after one miserable attempt in my forearm. I've never had a problem with IVs but this first mishap left a bruise the entire length of my forearm...it is ugly. After about 30 minutes of checking in, organizing our belongings* and walking around trying to handle the contractions (which I still didn't think were unbearable), Liz appeared.

*Last time with EV we had our portable DVD player with tons of movies, a speaker for music, books, magazines, my body pillow, clothes...everything. This time: phone charger and pillow, that's it.

She checked me and was slightly shocked: I was at 8 cm. WHAT?!?! I was expecting to still be at 2! I mean, I didn't want to get my hopes up by thinking I was a 6 so I aimed low, but I never imagined I would have made it to 8 all on my own. She said my bag was bulging and once my water broke it would be time to start pushing, I was that far along.

Oh yeah, one problem: the antibiotics. She explained we had two options:

1. We break my water and I start the pushing process. Since I have the Strep bacteria, Baby Ninja would require extra blood work, medicine and a possible lumbar puncture. My little baby, lumbar puncture?

2. We hold off as long as my water doesn't break and see if I can get the antibiotics in me. I need 4 hours minimum: enough for 1 whole bag and as long as the second bag is started, it counts. This also means I will be staying at 8 cm as long as my bag doesn't break, ignoring the pressure to push.

I heard the words "lumbar puncture" and I knew there was no way Baby Ninja was getting that unless absolutely necessary. We chose option #2. Ed and I decided if I need pain relief to try the route of narcotics first, epidural second since it didn't even take last time. Both Liz and the nurse said I was too far along for the narcotics and if I wanted an epidural to let them know and they would page the anesthesiologist, who was currently at home. My response: I can do this on my own.

So for the next 4 hours I watched the antibiotics bag drip slowly into my arm, checked the clock anxiously hoping after each contraction we would have moved forward an entire hour and tried my best not to panic. Liz stayed with me for a long time but was eventually called in to her other patients room around 2:30 am. The other woman was ready to start pushing. I came very close to having a panic attack when it was just me and Ed in the room. I apparently am a "must hold two people's hands when having a contraction" type person. We called for my nurse Elizabeth to come in the room and I asked if she would stay with me. Thankfully, she agreed. I did make sure she knew how to deliver a baby just in case I didn't make it until Liz came back. Yes, of course she did.

Ok...now wait for the antibiotics and wait for Liz. Come on bag, don't break, I don't want any extra procedures done on Ninja. Stay calm, ignore the urge to push, you can do this. They offered me another chance at the epidural. Again, I knew I could do it without.

Around 3:15 am Elizabeth said she could hear the husband from the other room in the hallway saying he is off to tell the family. That meant the other woman had delivered and Liz would be returning. 3:30 she walks in the door. I tell her I feel like I'm about to panic. Even though contractions are 3 minutes apart, and have been since 12:30, I am able to have very short conversations in between. I remember telling Liz I was scared. I was scared of the pain, I was scared to deliver, I was scared I wouldn't be able to make it until the antibiotics run out. She kept telling me, very calmly, you're doing fine, you're doing great, you're going to be just fine. During my appointments with Liz, I was never very sure about her. She was so different from our University of Michigan midwife who reminded me of fresh baked cookies. However, during labor and delivery, I would take Liz over Joyce (cookie lady) any day. One of the keys was when she had me start breathing in a way which would prevent pushing, like I was saying "putt" over and over again. It worked like a charm (charm as in still super painful but at least I wasn't panicking anymore).

Liz told me a few times: "the definition of bravery is being afraid of something but doing it anyway". Well, I was afraid. Her and the nurse kept telling me I was doing great and one of my replies Ed keeps quoting is "Guys, I don't feel like I'm doing great".

The antibiotics were started at 1:10.

I needed 4 hours.

5:05 am: the second bag was hung.

5:10 am: Elizabeth gives the all clear that the bag has started and we can break my water.

5:15 am: Liz breaks my water and tells me to start pushing.

I had been ignoring the urge to push for so long that when it came time to do it, for some reason I half-assed it. I didn't push as hard as I could. I remember thinking: what if I push my hardest and it isn't enough? Then it hit me: what would I tell one of my players who said that?

I jumped in head first and pushed with everything I had. I grabbed the handle they gave me, I squeezed Ed, I'm sure I made horrible noises frightening to anyone in the hallway. I broke blood vessels in my face, the IV in my hand was forced out with the pressure of clasping Ed's hand. I heard them say this baby had a head full of hair. It meant they could see the head! One more push, head was out, only shoulders left. One last push...baby was on my chest! They didn't tell us what it was at first but instead told us to take a peak. This baby was all boy! He had so much dark hair! Ev didn't have hair until after she was 1 but already her little brother (who is sitting next to me right now and just let out a horrible dirty diaper sound) had a full head.

This time around the feeling of having him on my chest wasn't the same as with EV. With her I was completely in awe because this experience had never happened to us before. I was amazed at the idea of the new baby on my chest. Now, I was again so in love with this little man but I felt pride. I was proud of myself, proud of Ed, proud of Baby Ninja. We did it. We did it without medicine, we made the time requirement. Numerous times during the delivery I remember asking God in my head to help me during this process. He must have because there is no way I could have done that on my own.

James hung out on my chest for over an hour and we made the obligatory phone calls: parents, grandparents, my boss to let her know I definitely wasn't coming in today and wouldn't be attending the 17 team camp I was directing that weekend. My favorite call was to my Grandma letting her know we named our sweet baby after her husband of over 50 years. She is a very stoic woman and when I could hear her voice break and the tears begin, she suddenly cut the conversation short. She called back on Sunday to tell me how much it meant to her, how proud Grandpa would have been and she just wishes he would have been there to see James. I assured her he had one of the best seats in the house.

Eventually we were moved to another room. I was being monitored more thoroughly due to the large amount of bleeding I had post delivery. They had to give me some medicine and I had to be sure to finish my bag of antibiotics. I felt great though. Only 1.5 hours after delivery I was allowed to get up and use the bathroom. The nurse told me she had to help me but after I took a few steps towards the door she could see I was completely fine. At the new room they cleared me immediately. The IV had to be transferred into my other arm since I ripped it out during delivery (it is still so sore) and again I have bruises. Oi!

We waited until the IV was out before telling Mom and Dad to bring EV. The moment she met sweet baby James is one of the greatest and I'll save that for the next post.