A-baby's Grand Welcome Party

First things first, I have birthday pictures of the little dude here.

So, a-baby (a.k.a.Jambuca, not sure which one will stick on the blog) was technically due in another 2 weeks, 5 days. But hey, at 7lb, 1oz and 20.5 inches, my extrapolating skills tell me that I wouldn't have wanted to wait 3 more weeks. He was heading toward outsizing hs big sister, and we just. can't. have. that. So thanks, kiddo!

It all started out just like e-baby's, with a 2am wake-up of little teeny baby contractions that then lasted a long, long time. Around 5pm, when they were still teeny, easy, whatever kind of contractions, WHOOSH! my water broke (in SNG's office, sitting on state-owned property. Ask before you sit in any of his chairs, eh?). My doctor said to get to the hospital stat, but then my contractions didn't get a whole lot harder. I was kind of stalled at 4cm. For those outside this lingo, you start at zero cm. At 10cm, you get to push out a baby. On average, people usually dilate about a cm an hour. Four cm gets boring after awhile, and you don't want to sit around like that all night, so around 10pm my doctor said that I'd be getting pitocin (glossary moment 2-- it's a drug that kick-starts contractions). By the time the IV bag arrived, my own natural contractions had gotten pretty miserable, and I figured if was getting a drug-induced increase in pain, then I'd give the epidural another go. Last time, the epidural wasn't so hot. It kind of, well, wore off. Four hours before e-baby was born. Yuck. But everyone else says they are so nice.

The anesthesiologist was less friendly and more talented this time. Fine with me- I wasn't going to be staying for breakfast, as they say. About an hour of pitocin and still not much had changed. I was at 5cm. The nurse decided it was time to try lying on my right side. She left to eat some lunch or something. Within five minutes, the baby told me in no uncertain terms that he was on his way out, whether I was ready or not.

Five minutes, and I was at 10cm, and kiddo's head was starting to show from across the room. It took another 5 minutes for the doctor to arrive and put on her catcher's mitt. That was, unquestionably, the hardest 5 minutes of the year. Just try stopping a baby from coming out when he's determined-- ha!

One contraction consisting of 5 big breaths and kapow, BABY!

The only downside to having him come out so quickly is that the muck didn't get squeezed out of his lungs, and we've been working to get it out ever since. We are still in the hospital, sentenced to one more day of observation since he got daddy's blood type and is at high risk of jaundice. But in all he's a champ. He knew exactly how to eat from the first glimpse of the Milk Truck, and so far he's very tolerant of his big sister's EXUBERANT hugs. She's helping to squeeze the muck out, I think.

So that's the gory details. I'll post more (less gory) stories later.