Hey

So this week Ian has been shocking us by saying "Hey" when we walk into a room. Okay, so maybe it's not a clear, deliberate "Hey," but it's clear and consistent enough to amaze his totally impartial parents! As soon as he notices one of us, we get a "Hey," "Hi," "Heh," or some other variation of a greeting.

Yeah, he's awesome. Or at least we think so.

This has also been the week of rolling over. He's been able to roll tummy-to-back occasionally for a couple of months, but this week he has perfected his back-to-tummy roll. His favorite time to do this is bedtime, when -- instead of sleeping -- he rolls around his crib until he gets frustrated and fusses for Mom or Dad.

I am so amazed to see this little guy grow so quickly right before my eyes!

The Story, Part 2

Early in the morning, I think around 4am or so, the nurses started to ramp up my pitocin to get the show on the road, so to speak. Then it was time for my epidural, which absolutely terrified me since they made me sign this form that was like, "You know this could KILL YOU, right?" But the epidural procedure seemed to go fine.

A few minutes after my epidural as put in, a nurse came to check my progress and found that my amniotic fluid (a.k.a. "water") had started leaking when they placed the epidural. She was double checking the leak when POP! -- my water fully broke, with gusto, apparently! (TMI, I know, but this next part gets interesting.)

After my water broke, little beepy alarms went off and nurses came rushing in. I got to put a stylin' oxygen mask on and turn onto my side. Apparently the baby's heartrate dropped when my water broke, and it took a few minutes for it to go back to normal. Paul did a great job smiling at me and keeping me calm even though he was pretty nervous. (Apparently the heartrate dropping thingy was a common but scary event called a vagal response.)

After that excitement, I got to wait around another hour or so while letting the pitocin do its work. In the mean time, we got text messages letting us know that our family had arrived in the waiting room (my mom, in fact, was already there, having spent the night in the waiting room unbeknownst to us).

A new labor nurse came in after a shift change, and she began checking my progress regularly. I wish I could remember her name, because she was a great nurse. Very kind and helpful. I felt like I made a new friend for those few hours.

Finally it was time to start pushing, so I pushed. And pushed. And pushed. I pushed for off and on for a looooooooong time with little result. "He's so close!" the nurse would say. "Keep trying! I can see his hair!"

"He has hair?!" I said in my half-delirious state, already in love with my new little boy.

The Story, Part 1

I expected Ian to arrive weeks before he did. Every time I saw my OB, he said he thought I would deliver before my next appointment. Ian's kicks were strong, and my tummy was huge. I started staying close to home, just in case I went into labor.

The due date came and went, unfortunately uneventful. I didn't want to be induced, I guess because I figured the fewer drugs, the better. But two days after my due date, on March 26, Paul and I packed everything up and calmly headed to the hospital for induction.

Once we were at the hospital, we were told that it was an extremely busy time and we would have to wait awhile before they could start in induction. We sat on an uncomfortable bench in the waiting area for 15 or 20 minutes before retreating to the family waiting room's slightly more comfortable seating. Once in the waiting room, I started having mild, regular contractions about every 5 minutes. Paul, ever the family protector, talked to the receptionist at the desk to explain that we needed a room NOW, and what do you know -- we got one!

We were placed in a temporary room where they could monitor my contractions until the labor and delivery room was ready. The contractions still were mild, but the staff decided to give me an hour to see if my body was going into labor on its own. No dice. We were taken to the L&D room to prepare for induction.

Next they put the IV in to start the slow pitocin drip. I absolutely hate having needles put in me, so I was dreading the IV experience. Apparently I blocked out the experience, though, because I have no memory of it today. I think I may have been hugging my Care Bear, and I do remember that the kind nurses covered the IV catheter with a bandage so I didn't have to look at it.

I spent the next couple of hours staring around the rather large hospital room, watching my baby's heartrate on the monitor, and wishing that the Predators game was on TV (Baptist Hospital, you need FSTennessee!!!). Paul and I were excited to see the little alcove where the hospital bassinet awaited Ian's arrival.

Finally, very excited, incredibly nervous, and acutely aware of the needle stuck my wrist, I settled in for a night of restless sleep.