Our Little Texan

He finally made it! Benjamin Scott was born on July 18, 2012, weighing in at 7 pounds, 12 ounces (the nurse originally told us 7lbs, 11oz) and measuring 20.25 inches. He's perfect, and he's got one hella-crazy head of hair.

Stretch it out, big guy

Holy moly what a labor and delivery. I started having contractions Sunday night (the 15th), and as you all know, we went to the hospital in the middle of the night only to be turned away at about 5am Monday morning. My doc prescribed a sleeping pill for me that Monday, and told us to "rest up" and that the baby would be here soon. Hmmm. In his defense, he also offered me some pain medicine, but I declined. I was still in my hippie state of saying no to narcotics and inductions.

I didn't sleep very much that afternoon, but I think I drunk texted my dear friend Blow during my haze of sleepiness and contractions. I have a very low tolerance for pain meds, and apparently Ambien.

That night, I was on all fours in the living room trying to sway my hips to get this baby moving down and the contractions were getting super intense. I finally woke up Jeff and asked for some assistance. I had him rub my back and he started timing the contractions again. Since they were even closer together and I was in way more pain, we packed up again and went back to the hospital.

I was still just 1 centimeter dilated. I almost cried to the nurse. She let us walk the halls again, but this time Jeff coached me around the deserted hospital hallway at 3am like a sprinter. He walked about 6 paces ahead of me and forced me to walk through each contraction rather than letting me stop to hold onto  a rail and grimace through them. Then my husband-of-the-year pulled out his camera phone and had the nerve to take a picture of me shuffling along in my giant hospital gown and flip flops with tears streaming down my face. When Ben was born and things were all said and done, he pulled that picture out and told me how it epitomizes our labor and delivery experience. The picture is dark and grainy, and I look absolutely pathetic and exhausted. No one will ever see that picture of me.

The nurse sent us home again because I was still just 1 cm after our hour of walk-jogging. I was nearly inconsolable on our drive home. Tuesday morning, I called up my favorite Asian doctor and went in for acupuncture to induce labor. (I had already called my Western doctor and confirmed that I would be induced Thursday morning if no baby before then; that wasn't good enough for me.) I got up on her table, laid on my side, and she put 4 or 5 needles in my calves and ankles while pushing on my belly. She actually made my uterus contract right there, and twisted and pushed the needles in farther to make each contraction stronger and my belly tighter. It was incredible. After about 40 minutes, I got up and she told me I would have the baby that night.

We went home and I labored like a golden retriever for the rest of the afternoon. Jeff set up blankets and pillows on the floor of our bedroom, turned on the ceiling fan, turned off all the lights and just left me alone to somehow try to relax and get through each contraction. I told him he should just put me in a cardboard box in the garage.

This is also about the time I seriously thought I was being punked by Ricki Lake into having a home birth.

I couldn't walk around our house without holding onto furniture and could hardly even stand up straight. The contractions became so bad that Jeff took control, called my nurse and told her we needed to be admitted to the hospital now. She and my doc agreed, and we went back to the hospital to be induced at about 5pm. I'll never forget that hour-long car ride to the hospital while contracting. I couldn't brace my hands and feet into the floorboard and car door hard enough, and the only words that would come out of my mouth were terrible cuss words. Sorry baby.

I get there and am 5 centimeters dilated! I'm admitted and the epidural is ordered. Sweet relief. The nurse lets Jeff and I sleep for the rest of the night. I'm fully dilated and we decide to try to start pushing just before 5am Wednesday morning.

I pushed, and pushed, and pushed. No baby. The nurses shift changed at 7am, and I got a new one. I knew things were going to get better when I saw she was Asian. She told me to rest for an hour. At 8:30 am, the pushing continues. The only way to describe my new Asian nurse is "militant." She forced me to use a mirror to push, which was the number 1 thing I refused to do in preparing my birth plan. Hell no. Not only did she force me to look, the woman forced poor Jeff to move farther down the bed to hold my leg and made him check out the state of our delivery. She was probably all of 90 pounds and had full control over us.

At 10am and still no baby, she calls the doctor in and we all agree this baby needs some help getting out. This is when shit got real. Lights were turned out, masks were put on, an anesthesiologist was brought in, more nurses came in, and it felt like my entire body was scrubbed down in iodine.

After 2 major contractions, lots of pushing and the help of scary forceps, Ben was born at 10:26 a.m.! The little stinker came out sunny-side up and peeing a fountain. And he basically had a unicorn horn on his head from being stuck for so long and then being dragged out. We were a little nervous about his appearance, but his cone head miraculously recovered within hours.

It was not the labor and delivery I had ever expected, and although the nearly 5 hours of pushing wasn't even all that terrible, it was a long and exhausting 3 days of trying to get this baby out.

We're all doing fabulous and couldn't be happier. Enjoy some more of our very first pics.

Serious hair.

Proud Papa

Ben and Grandma Barb

The Fam. Getting ready to leave the hospital.

 ~Mama