Bonnie texted me yesterday evening to say she had been admitted, and could I please come around midnight. Not wanting to miss anything, I grabbed my camera bag and left around eleven, driving through an unusually warm winter night toward the hospital. When I arrived, everyone was relatively perky...just waiting around. Bonnie was up and about, and both she and Mark were anxious for the arrival of Max.
The nurses at this hospital are really nice, and I love Bonnie's doctor, as well. It's almost like you're staying at a four-star resort (but not quite).
Soon, however, the Pitocin kicked in with a vengeance, and nobody was smiling anymore.
There were especially no smiles when Bonnie found out that after all the pain, she was still at four centimeters. Oy. As the contractions got stronger and stronger, it became crystal clear what needed to happen next.
Yes, an epidural. The anesthesiologist did the job. The meds kicked in quickly, and an exhausted Bonnie fell asleep. Mark and I were on the couch, shivering. The room was like a meat locker with dimmed lights. Suddenly, the door burst open and nurse Erika threw large white blankets at us. As we caught them, we realized they'd been warmed in the dryer! Bless her! Mark rolled up in his, and soon looked like he was ready to give birth.
I napped, off and on, listening to Bonnie breathe, and hearing rain begin to hit the window behind us. The wind had picked up, as well, and it seemed dark and cozy in the birthing room, away from the warm night turned cold. Pretty soon, though, things started happening. Another check showed Bonnie ready to deliver. The doctor was called, and everyone took their places.
Bonnie's a real trooper. Just a couple of pushes, and Max was welcomed to our world at 6:09 a.m. Mark cut the cord, and he was free!
The pediatric nurse had everything ready for Max.
The doctor stopped for a quick photograph, before leaving...it seemed like she'd just arrived!
As I walked out to my car, I felt a little dizzy..from no sleep and the excitement, most likely. The cold wind swirled around and around, making me miss the little cocoon of a room. My hope for Max is that he always feels that warmth and security for the rest of his life. Happy birthday, sweetheart.