And Here We Go...

Hello all. This is Scott. I'm going to try and compile sort of a running journal of our hospital time on this one post. I hope to add to it sporadically throughout the day as labor approaches, is contended with and the girl arrives. I attempted to upload some photos to Blogger last night and had very limited success, The shot above being one of the last shots of Sarah with Gigi (and Butch) before hospital admission. Following a great sausage, tomato and garlic pizza at D'Bronx on 39th St we dropped in to St. Luke's to get the party started.

Monday, 08/11

10pm: Sarah's a little busy having some miniature contractions right now, eating some Jello, contending with the Prostaglandin gel reapplied every four hours and watching the first season of 30 rock. So far so good everyone. Sarah's feeling crampy but rocking it away in the chair.

Tuesday, 08/12

7am: It's now about 7am and the Pitocin has been administered. Sarah lays on her side watching Gigi's heartbeat. It was a rough night but not as bad as anticipated. I had a workable couch for sleeping and Sarah seemed to do ok in her hospital bed. Some nerves and frequent nurse interruptions kept her from fully enjoying what may be one of her last nights of sleep uninterrupted by crying and feeding. I watch the contractions summit and fall on the monitor. Sarah is quiet, maybe suffering in a little silence. What she may not tell me in words I can read on her face: She is a little scared and definitely does not feel well. The first stronger contractions seem to be arriving.

8am: The contractions train is rolling in. Getting stronger byt he minute. Water has been broken when Dr. Moore dropped in for her first visit. 2 - 3 centimeters dilated and 60% effaced. We had a shift change and the new nurse, Ceclia, is, how should I say this -- much more personable than your night nurse who preferred to discuss her tattoos and piercings instead of our birth plan. She wasn't bad, per say, just heavily distracted (as evidence by the urine sample left on the counter all night -- NOT apple juice Scott).

10am: Extreme contractions. A failed hall walk. A spin in the rocker and the ball. Epidural just administered. Already kicking in and I can see Sarah relax. I asked: There is no Daddy Epidural.

Sarah is amazing. Strong/Beautiful/Resilient.

11am: She sleeps. Purring like a kitten while the monitor reports contractions twice as extreme as those which drove her to the epidural. My insistence on the Daddy epidural was summarily rejected my staff. They did counteroffer for a "neck up" epidural. Meanwhile, staff come in to set up "the table" complete with intimidating medical equipment. I divert my eyes, as I did with the epidural and with probably most of the stuff of importance (aka "potentially bloody") today.

11:15am: Nurse says we could go at any moment. Her head is pretty close. Could be a false alarm. The need to push comes and goes. Sarah's at 9 centimeters right now.

12:26pm: Greta Lys Hartley is born.

SHE'S HERE!!!

1:35pm: Sarah is great (tired!). Greta is great, weighing in at 7 lbs. 11 oz and 21 inches long