Izzy's birth...
...went startlingly quickly and easily. Em and I looked at each other at about 10am on Thursday, when the baby was born and the doctor and nurses had cleared the room, and said, "Is that it?"
Which is not to give the impression that the process was pain-free. Apparently,
every one and their sister had babies at New York Hospital last Wednesday and
Thursday, so there were no free rooms when we arrived. Em got stuck in triage,
where they give no medication, including the epidural. She was in a pretty bad
state for about two hours, with much sweating, crying, and trying to deal with
her husband, who does not like seeing her in pain, and who responds by laying
on the floor and pressing his head against the cold tile to prevent passing
out unconscious on the cold floor. Nevertheless, the whole process went just
about as well as one could hope.
Em had felt a couple of dull pains in her back around 1:30am, Thursday morning.
She woke me, and we checked our books and decided that it might be the early
stages of labor. I thought it best to go back to sleep, and did. Around 3:30,
Em thought that her water broke, and started to recognize the intermittent pains
as contractions, about eight minutes apart, lasting about 30 seconds. We called
the doctor, who advised us to mosey to the hospital in the next couple of hours.
She would normally have advised us to wait a bit, but since it was crowded,
she thought we should queue up for a room.
We called my folks, and my Dad agreed to come meet us at home, and take Marina
to school. But hanging up with the doctor triggered a change in Em's contractions.
Suddenly, they were four or five minutes apart and quite severe. We shifted
plans, and told my Dad to meet us at the hospital. We woke Marina, dressed quicky,
gathered our bags, and left. Walking down to Riverside Drive to get the car,
Marina held my hand and said, "I'm so excited."
On the ride to the hospital (crosstown is pretty quick at 5am, by the way) Em
tried to balance her desire to scream from the pain with her desire not to scare
the bejoodles out of her daughter. Marina, recognizing Em's discomfort, offered
to sing ‘The Wheels on the Bus", which we did, successfully distracting
her mommy for the whole ride.
At the hospital, Em rushed up to the labor and delivery wing and Marina and
I waited a few minutes for my Dad. She was sad not to be able to go upstairs
with Mommy and Daddy, but Grandpa did a great job of shifting her focus to playing
with him, and thinking about going to school to tell her friends. "Is Dora
going to pick you up at school, today? - No, Grandma and Grandpa!" The
two of them had a nice morning, returning home to play with toys, amd going
to the diner for eggs and a muffin and then to school.
Meanwhile, Em was about to faint from the pain in triage. The nurses were sympathetic,
but there seemed to be nothing to do. They agreed that it was time for the epidural,
and said that they were looking for a room. Maybe they would just clear out
an OR. Em was brave, but suffering. By 6:30, they had cleared out an odd little
"Negative Pressure Room", a crowded ante-room to the OR, and they
brought in the anaesthesiologist. There were the same questions about allergies
and whether the pregnancy was remarkable in any way that we had already answered
about eight times, and which you will answer again, and again, until we stop
asking and you'll like it too mister. I was told to leave the room, and they
needed three tries and about half an hour to find room in Em's spine. It was
well after seven before the drug kicked in, and Em felt much better almost immediately.
The color returned to her face, she stopped sweating, and I was able to take
my face off the floor.
As the epidural worked, the OB came to examine her. Em's OB, Kelly Greening,
works in a practice with four others, and they rotate turns covering the hospital.
Dr. Weiss was on call. She had also been on call when Em went in to have Marina,
though we waited for Dr. Greening to deliver Marina. On Thursday, at about 7:30am,
Emily was fully dilated, and basically ready to start pushing. Dr. Weiss was
heading into the OR to do a C-Section on another patient, and said she would
come find us afterwards and then we would have the baby. Since Em was in no
real pain, at this point, it seemed reasonable for her to gather her strength
for a while. We were able to switch to one of the nice birthing rooms during
the interim. Her nurse, Martha, who was quite good if a bit humorless, scurried
to prepare the new room, as Emily held back from pushing. The epidural was wearing
off, now, and Em was concerned that the anaesthesiologist be close at hand.
At the OB's office about six weeks earlier, they had a "Meet the Doctors
Night" where pregnant moms and their partners could get acquainted with
all the OBs who might be on call when the baby comes. One of the dads asked
each of the four doctors to give her best advice for behavior during the birth
to the partners of the laboring mothers. 1. Bring gifts. 2. Whatever she says
is right. 3. No jokes. 4. What happens in the delivery room, stays in the delivery
room.
These all seemed like pretty good pieces of advice, and I kept them in mind.
My response to discomfort, though, is to try to make jokes. I suppose, the reason
that this advice is relevant is that many dads have this same response. I did
make a couple of small, and clearly unfunny jokes, for which I was scolded,
by Martha.
At around 9am, the anaesthetic was clearly wearing off. Em was starting to feel
significant pain with each contraction. Dr. Weiss came in, and said that Em
would start pushing soon, and that since the pain is helpful, so that one knows
when to push, we should hold off on calling the anaesthesiologist until Em tried
pushing a few times. Em, skeptical, agreed. We just had to wait until the room
and nurse and doctor were ready. This took longer than Em liked. When she had
a pretty strong contraction at about 9:25, Dr. Weiss said she should push a
little, even though they weren't really ready. At the next, and each subsequent,
contraction, Em pushed three times. By the third push on this first attended
contraction, the baby was making significant process. Fifteen minutes later,
after lots of "Push, push!" and "Breathe, breathe!" and
"Good good good good good good good!" and "Aarrrrrggghhhhh!"
Isidor Aaron Marcus was born. (Notice how I omit mention of the awkward moment,
between contractions, when Izzy had half his head out, with the cord wrapped
around his neck.)
Izzy was healthy (Apgar 9, 9) and Em was exhausted but fine. He didn't have his full name, yet. That would take a couple more days of negotiation. At 9:40 Em and Izzy were being cleaned up, and I was frantically and elatedly moving between them, snapping photos. Em was magnificent, and the baby wasn't half bad, either.