Well the world has been a better place with Grant in it for two weeks now. I figure it's about time I write down the whole process of getting him here before I forget the whole thing. This isn't going to be super funny or well written I'm sure, but there are only so many tasteful jokes you can do about placenta.
So Friday the 13th was the day it all started. We had our normal appointment with Dr. Jackson at 2:30. That whole morning my coworkers were making cracks about have a baby on Friday the 13th. By this point we would have gladly taken that option. It had been a long 10 days since the due date and like most new parents, we were anxious to get our son out so we could meet him.
After the appointment the doctor agreed. We needed to get this guy out here in the world with the rest of us. She called the hospital and we were scheduled to go in that night to induce her. So we made our plans accordingly. We canceled what we had planned for the night and got all out stuff in order.
An hour before our scheduled time, we called as per out instructions. It turned out they were too busy to take us, but there were a couple family in the final stages so we should call in ab hour and check.
We did so, only to learn that three more women had walked in. The lady was still hopeful though that we could get in tonight and told us to call back in an hour. A hour later the story was the same. Not the three new moms part of the story, the no room for Steve and Sally part. After calling four or five times, they told us to just try in the morning and that they should be room for us then.
Saturday November 14. I woke up early and called the hospital again. This time they had a room for us. We gathered up our stuff and let Sally's mom know what was going on and made out way up to the hospital.
We weren't scheduled to go to LDS hospital. Originally we were suppose to have him at IMC in Murray, but because of some reorganization with the Riverton Hospital Dr. Jackson didn't have a C-section team out there so we got move to LDS. LDS is an older hospital but still nice up in the avenues, the trendy part of Salt Lake. We'd never been there except for a trial run that I'd done two weeks ago when we first found out. I was glad that we weren't trying to get there with Sally in a pain with contractions. It made for a much easier trip than what I had imagined.
We got to the hospital, checked in. There was another couple a head of us. The woman was obviously having contractions so we felt lucky yet again. They took us to a room and we made our selves at home. The nurse came in and gave Sally a dose of Cervidill to get her cervix softened up enough to do what it needed to do.
Eventually this drug would start some contractions but at first it was pretty uneventful. We watched TV and waited. After a while thought it became more and more intense for Sally. At five they checked her again. They said she was soft enough and that they could start her on Petocin, which would get the process really going for us.
It did, at least it got the contractions going. They would never go into a proper pattern however. They were pretty much constant the whole time. Which is not what they wanted. After 8 or 9 hours they go to the point where Sally had had enough so the doctor gave her an epidural. Not long after that the doctor broke her bag of waters in hopes to get the contractions to pick up in intensity but begin cycling like they should.
By this time it was about 10 at night. We did the best we could under the circumstances to get some sleep. In the morning, things were still about the same. She was dialated to about 8 to 8.5 at this point but no matter how many more times they checked that was as far as she was getting.
By around noon the nurses were getting worried and called Dr. Jackson. By about 1:30 it was decided that we needed to get him out of the womb, and that meant c-section.
They prepped Sally and gave me a jump suit. There's really not much more they do for the husband. They really just kind of leave it up to your imagination while they get ready, which really isn't a very nice thing to do. Your imagination is way worst than how it really is – at least mine is.
It seemed like a long time before they put the sheet up and got started. We were both really nervous, so we distracted ourselves by talking about Grant and what he'd be like. What kinds of games we'd play with him, what school he'd go to (Utah State of course).
Before we knew it a perfect cry pierced the operating room. I squeezed Sally's hand one last time and jumped up to see him. He was screaming, gunky and beautiful. At this point I have never been more torn in my life. Half of my wanted to run back to my wife and be with her while she was in such an uncomfortable state. The other half wanted to watch every single thing my son did. In the end I just ran back and forth like an idiot trying to do as much of both as I could.
They cleaned him off, weighed and measured him and wrapped him up. He had a fever which these days with the swine flu causes major concerns. They held him up for Sally see and then took him out to the special care nursery to give him antibiotics and get some blood work. If I thought I was torn before once the two people were in different rooms it was one thousand times worse.
I stayed with Grant at first while they put him under the lights, but then they were going to give him an IV and I really didn't want to stay for that so I went back to our room to help there. Sally was exhausted but thrilled to have seen him. I told her all about him and she smiled.
We wheeled her back to the maternity ward where they soon brought our little boy and our lives together were able to truly begin.
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