I was certain he was going to come early so imagine my surprise when September 15th rolled around (one day after my due date) and I was still very much pregnant. Luckily, my doctor had already scheduled my induction for September 19th so I saw the end in sight. We were very excited (and eager, too — we tried to convince labor and delivery on the 15th that I was, in fact, in labor… they sent me home with assurance that “one day, they’ll let me stay!”) and on the 19th, at 7AM we finally got to the hospital — certain he would be here very soon. I think I was a little naive. Though in the grand scheme of labor stories, mine isn’t too, too long.
I’m not sure about the timing, the medications, or the processes of things. All I know is that when I arrived for my induction, I was already in active labor at 3cm. They started me on pitocin to “speed things up”. I’m not sure it sped up anything though it definitely made my already painful contractions, more painful. It was still bearable (maybe the excitement got the best of me) and we stayed in the room watching How I Met Your Mother on Netflix. I couldn’t eat anything but I survived on ice, popsicles and lollipops. Hours later, not much was going on so the doctor broke my water (weirdest feeling, ever) and they decided to give me some pain medication that would make me feel like I just “drank two margaritas”. It wasn’t the right fit for me and it totally messed with my breathing techniques and made it impossible to focus on anything but the fact that the room was spinning. At 5cm, they stopped that drug and my kind nurse said “sweetie, take the epidural” and so, I gave in. Thankfully.
The relief from the epidural was pretty instant and I could focus on the excitement again. I’m not sure what the heck happened from the time I got the epidural to the time I started “practice pushing” or even how long it was — but I know at 9:30PM, I was given the “ok” to start pushing. This part is a bit of a blur but I know at one point I admitted defeat and just started saying “but I don’t want to be doing this right now” over and over. Everyone in the room assured me that I did in fact want to be doing this and even more so… that I no longer had a choice in the matter. My doctor came in close to midnight and declared it “time”. Apparently, things weren’t going in my favor, though I didn’t realize at the time, but thinking back I should have known (maybe I would have without all the drugs). I guess he was “sunny side up” and was stuck. I kept hitting my epidural button, but it only helped so much. After 30 minutes of being with the doctor she said I had one more chance to push or she was calling it an emergency c-section. I don’t think I did anything different with the final push that I had done the previous 3 hours, but it must have been enough because Javier Cash Duffy came out screaming at 12:37AM on Sunday, September 20th. They put him on my chest immediately and though I thought I wouldn’t want that to happen, I didn’t mind. He was squirmy and warm and he was looking at me looking at him and I think we both were a little shocked. They convinced Sean to cut the umbilical cord and then asked if I wanted to hold him for a bit or if they should check him out first. I quickly told them I wanted him checked over and over and to make sure he was perfect. So while I was there getting stitched up, Sean watched them weigh him and measure him and check him over. I kept asking “why is he crying?!” and when he would stop I would ask “why isn’t he making noise?!” as I peered at him from the bed. After the chaos of delivery, and once everyone left the room, Sean and I just stared at him, and laughed every few minutes at the thought of “but we’re parents now”. This little being at 7 lbs 11 oz, 21 inches long, blue eyes, long skinny legs and a full head of hair was ours. It was a weird feeling to suddenly (after 17 hours of hard work) have him in our arms rather than my belly.