Unfortunately, my third son probably felt the effects of stress in utero. Maybe that is why he didn’t want to come out. I was due with him on February 5th. The exact same due date as my middle child was due too! Or perhaps, he was stubborn like the middle child who was also late. But both my second and third child did endure stress prior to their birth so maybe they just knew better then to enter this crazy fast paced stressful world.
I was much larger with this pregnancy then I had been with the other two. I also had a herniated belly button with my third pregnancy due to my previous gallbladder surgery that I required after the birth of my first son. It was painful but with all the problems and pain my son was enduring at the school who had time to think about my own personal pain? I mean my belly button literally had shifted and was near my hip. How lovely was that?
I was traveling all the way back to where I use to live to see my OB/GYN that delivered my first two children. I also wanted to have all my children at the same hospital. I’m just weird like that. But four weeks before I was due to deliver I was told that my husband would not be able to sleep at the hospital with me as he did when our two other sons were born. The hospital had changed their rules due to their changing clientele who thought the hospital was an overnight hotel stay walking in the halls in their underwear and using it as a place to shower and shave. I told my doctor I wanted her to pull some weight and get permission for my husband to stay because it was important for me. Someone in my family who worked at a nearby hospital in the administration said the doctor could make that happen if she wanted to but she’d have to ruffle some feathers. She wasn’t willing too and I wasn’t willing to give up something that I viewed important to me either.
I told the office staff I would go elsewhere to have this baby. They did not think someone in their last four weeks of pregnancy would do such a thing because it would be complicated to find a doctor this late in the pregnancy who would take the case. They did not know me very well.
I looked around and checked with local hospitals to find one that would meet my wishes and had my husband pick up my patient file. I switched my doctor and the hospital all while also in the middle of battling for my eldest son’s education. I was one Hot Blooded Tough Mama! I figured it like this, I was the hospital’s customer and I was sick of the world dictating to me.
The new doctor stipulated if he were to take my case that I would have to go on the fetal monitor each time I came to his office so he would get to know the baby. Agreed! As my due date approached the doctor stated he did not want my baby to go over 9 pounds for delivery and he was getting close. Yes, it was a “He”. We knew we were expecting a third son.
As if I didn’t have enough going on my middle son got a raging ear infection. It is rare that I will put my children on anti-biotics but I knew that this time he really needed them. He was three years old and had never been on an anti-biotic because I always treated everything holistically, even ear infections. But I knew this time the infection required anti-biotics so I called the doctor. As my luck would have it, the doctor’s were on strike. Their first strike ever! Doctors in West Virginia, Pennsylvania, Florida and New Jersey were on strike to protest the prohibitive cost of medical malpractice insurance. More stress for me to deal with it but I had gotten so good at dealing with stress.
My son’s doctor returned my phone call. He told me to bring my son to the Emergency Room. I told him I was due to expect my third child and that the OB/GYN doctor had just ruptured my membranes in an attempt to induce labor. I said, “I will not go to the emergency room. My child needs anti-biotics and I want you to call in a prescription.” He did not agree at this time. I was pissed and I called around to other doctors. I explained the situation and another doctor said although they were on strike he’d see my child. I told him I’d call him back. I then called back my children’s pediatrician and said, “Either you call in a prescription for my son or you have your office staff get my children’s files ready for pick up.” He called in the prescription. I was starting to feel like a bully mom but why did everyone have to make everything so hard?
It was decided that I would enter the hospital to be induced on February 10, 2003 in the early morning. Luckily, we trusted our au pair to take care of things back at home and with our other two sons. But I felt horrible because my middle son was really sick and the antibiotics were causing him to vomit and have diarrhea.
The morning that we were leaving I was dressed and ready to go to the hospital. I went to say my goodbyes to my two children. My middle child vomitted on the floor as I approached him. I didn’t want to leave but my aupair Melanie said, “You really need to go have this baby.” I was feeling guilty but my husband and I left.
My mother was on her way to my house because she was going to pick my eldest son up because I had made arrangements for both him and her to be the delivery room along with my new baby’s godmother and of course my husband.
By the time I got to the hospital I had actually started to have contractions on my own. They hooked me to a monitor and we waited for the doctor. When the doctor arrived he told them to administer Pitocin to help me along with my contractions and dilation. I told him the story about how I was the “Miracle Mom” and that he better stick around. He said he’d be back soon and had to run to his office down the block. My pains got immediately worse and the anesthesiologist was called in to give me an epi-dural. However, he could not get the needle in my back. I had to hunch over and he was telling me not to move. The fetal monitor slipped off during this time. I was trying not to move while having severe labor pains, in an uncomfortable position, sweat pouring down me all while enduring multiple stab wounds to my back. My back was actually bloody. My husband had this horrified look on his face while holding me. My mother was on her way with my elder son. The nurse finally said, “I don’t like that we haven’t had the baby on a monitor.” And I said,”Forget the epidural.” The nurse instructed me to lay down. I did and she looked and ran out of the room. The baby was coming and he was coming fast. She ran into a room across the hallway where some doctor’s were eating lunch and yelled,”I need a doctor right away.” Some doctor comes in the room and I said, “Who are you?” My husband proceeded to try and be funny although I did not know it at the time due to our age difference and said, “It’s Dr. Kildare“. I really thought he was Dr. Kildare. In the meantime, I heard someone yelling in the hallway, “Your patient is about to deliver.” My doctor made it in the nic of time. Our third son was born. My mom arrived with with my other son and they entered the room. They just missed his birth by moments.
And as special as our son was to us, we hoped that he would be just as special to someone else as he would commit his first act of kindness just minutes after he was born by donating his stem cells.
He was beautiful and exactly 9 pounds. He was the “Big Fat Baby” and we all loved him the moment we set our eyes on him.
Copyrighted 2011: danadogooder and DMT