Chase Harrison Goddard!
8 lbs, 2 oz - 21.5 in
Though most everyone has already met him (or at least seen pictures) here's the announcement and a story, for posterity's sake:
My final appointment with the OB was scheduled for 9:30 AM on Friday, June 11 - one day before my due date, one week after I thought I'd give birth, and four days before my doctor-mandated induction date. I decided to be considerate and take a shower before my appointment - during the shower, I missed a call from the doctor's office stating that they'd have to reschedule my appointment. No reason was given, nor did they seem to think that I was coming in for anything more important than a yearly pap. I immediately called them back to tell them that rescheduling wasn't quite an option at this point, but instead got placed on hold for almost 20 minutes. At minute 13, I decided simply to drive to the office and talk to them myself. At minute 19, two blocks away from the office, they finally found the time to take my call and I explained my situation. Apparently, the doctor was dealing with some emergency at the hospital, but his PA had rights to see patients - unfortunately, she was changing a flat tire in Annapolis and the earliest they could get me in was 1:30PM. I went home to work and nap until my appointment time.
I got to the office at 1:15 and almost fainted - every single chair in the waiting room was taken, it was between 75 and 80 degrees with no air circulation, and there were kids everywhere. (I had somehow missed the memo that it was "Bring Your Family to the Gyno" day.) After about five minutes, a significant other finally realized that maybe he should let the 10-months-pregnant lady take his seat, so I sat. And sat. And sat.
At 2:00, I told the receptionist that I was leaving and needed instructions about when to arrive at the hospital for the induction the following week. She advised me against leaving, but said she'd get the info.
At 2:15, I demanded the info and eventually tried to leave without it. The receptionist stalled and assured me that I'd be the next patient seen.
At 2:30, they finally called me back to have my vitals taken. My blood pressure was 140/100 and, according to their records, up 4 lbs since my previous appointment (at a different office on a much more forgiving scale). The nurse got me settled in a room, instructed me to relax, and told me that the PA would be in to see me in just a moment.
At 2:50, the PA finally sauntered in. Sauntered. I was not relaxed. I was ready to kill someone. My blood pressure had not dropped. She sent me to the hospital. I don't think I actually cursed at her, but I'm sure my glare got the job done nicely.
Since it was a Friday evening and I didn't want to exacerbate my stress by getting caught in traffic, I called Erik just before his quitting time and said, quite angrily, "Apparently you need to come take me to the hospital."
In retrospect, I can totally understand why he flipped out and literally RAN out of the classroom, stopping only to holler at a fellow teacher that she'd need to cover his kids for the rest of the day. (Super-cute side note: His class gave him a standing ovation as he left. How straight out of the movies is that?) He was, therefore, quite understandably surprised/perplexed/shocked to find me at home, sitting on the couch, fuming and telling him to not even bother packing the baby bag - they just needed to admit me to check my vitals; we'd be home in time for dinner.
Or not.
By the time I was admitted, my BP had dropped to a more reasonable 120/80 and I asked to be released. Unfortunately, the monitors were picking up contractions every 3-4 minutes (I was only feeling them every 8-10) and even though I wasn't more than 1 cm dilated, they strongly recommended I stay, and I was transferred to Labor & Delivery at about 5PM.
The doctor (some random guy I'd never seen or heard of in my life - he was standing in for my doctor - though why an office of 9 practitioners needs such a back up is beyond me) was going to be on call all weekend, so I made it very clear that a c-section was not an option for me, and that I would like to avoid all interventions that would put me on any sort of "hospital clock" (i.e. breaking my waters and giving me 24 hours from that point). My exact words were: "I will tear this IV out of my arm and go have my baby in the parking lot before I will consent to a c-section." So he kinda got the point.
By midnight, I'd made no progress. Again, I asked to go home. Again, they strongly advised against it.
At 2AM, they administered Cervadil to help with effacement. A normal cycle is 12 hours, but by 2PM Saturday, I'd still made no additional progress, so they decided to leave it in a bit longer.
5PM rolled around, and still nothing. At this point, I was seriously cramping the hospital's style, so they pressured me into getting dosed with Pitocin. After 30 minutes, I was practically in tears and requested an epidural. My nurse recommended I wait and suggested Stadol, which I eagerly accepted. Of the entire birthing experience, that's the only decision I regret, because it put me ON MY ASS for about three hours, off an on. I'd wake up seething with each contraction, but in between them I couldn't keep track of which way was up. There might have been some video-game-themed hallucinations.
Around 10:30, the Stadol had largely worn off and I was again writhing in pain with contractions about every 90 seconds. I held out for as long as I could, and then again requested the epidural. This time the nurse acquiesced, and the anesthesiologist had me all set within 10 minutes. Immediately afterwards, I felt the strangest sensation in the world, like a water balloon forcing itself out of me, and I was terrified I was giving birth without a doctor in sight, but it was only my amniotic sac. The nurse called the doctor in and I was fully dilated and ready to go. I'm still so thankful that they didn't check me prior to administering the epidural, because if they had I probably wouldn't have been allowed to have one.
Since the epidural hadn't yet had a chance to take effect and I was now in active labor, the anesthesiologist gave me "a little something extra to tide me over" (I still have no idea what that was - I was in no mood to ask or argue) and by the time the doctor asked me to push (about five minutes later) I was so numb I couldn't tell what was going on down there. After four pushing contractions, the doctor was paged - he had another patient who was "actually giving birth" - would I mind waiting? I didn't.
The 10-15 minutes that passed while the doctor was attending to his other patient were a welcome reprieve. I could feel the pressure of Chase moving himself along, which gave me a better idea of which muscles to use when it came time to push again. The doctor got back and I pushed through one more contraction, heard him say "Oh I can see his head - it's SO BIG!," and on the second contraction Chase was born.
Holy heck, was that long enough for you? The end.
