Introducing…

…Nicholas, the newest little cause of entropy in my life.

Nicholas arrived safely (albeit induced) Friday just after four in the afternoon. He was a whopping 7 lbs 2 oz and 19 ¼ inches long. (You see therefore, that as my doctor surmised, it was indeed crucial that this baby be removed before becoming the size of, oh I don’t know, the second child I delivered – a mammoth 7lbs 8oz).

Labor was long, punctuated by the fact that I was really rather indignant at being induced. (If you’d let me go natural, I kept thinking, 4 ½ hours start to finish!) I was hooked up to the “pit” at 7 am and by 3 o’clock I was only a six. It was then that I got really discouraged. (opposed to just being really apathetic previously). It was then that Alexander went to grab a bite to eat and prayed that my labor would be over quickly. It was then that I went from a six to a ten in less than twenty minutes. It was then that I learned that dilating that fast incapacitates an epidural. It was then that I learned the meaning of “urge to push.” This is not a term that holds any meaning under normal epidural circumstances. This is not a term I had ever really wanted an intimate knowledge of. But, you know what? Pushing really did feel better than the alternative.

As labor had been effort in slow-motion, delivery was results in lightening speed. The nurse, tired of waiting for my doctor to show up and noticing my obvious pain as I tried not to push, instructed me to push with the contractions at 3:43 pm. By 3:50, the baby had crowned and I was no longer allowed to push (the doctor had to get paid for something, I guess). Fortunately, the extra shot of epidural they had given me kicked in at this point, so I was no longer in agony with every contraction. The baby however, was less patient. With each contraction, he continued to move on out. When the doctor finally showed up at 3:55, he looked very surprised. I guess he didn’t believe them when they said “get in here, the baby’s crowned.” He had me push once without a contraction (which didn’t accomplish anything) and then once with a contraction. About two seconds into that push everyone in the room started telling me to stop pushing and the baby went from just crowning to (sort of) falling all the way out in a matter of seconds, just after 4pm.

As the hours wore on, we contemplated calling the baby “He-Who-Might-Never-Be-Named” but by Saturday morning decided instead to call him Nicholas. Alexander made me swear on pain of death not to ever call him “Nick,” which is fine with me. Both Alexander and I like the nickname “Cole” better anyway.

We’re all doing fine. We left the hospital as soon as medically possible. (I hate me the semi-private room!) Lij and Dylan are in love with Nicholas. Every other word out of Lijah’s mouth is “Nic-Nas” and Dylan wanders past him all day long, grinning shyly and waving. They also both enjoy sitting on my lap during feedings. They take turns touching Cole’s feet and laughing hysterically. (I will let this continue for the moment because it keeps an otherwise super-sleepy Cole awake for his meals).

Thanks to those of you who’ve passed along your kind thoughts and prayers over the past few days. All’s well (if slightly more chaotic) here at Sweet Mama’s house.