“It just shouldn’t ever have to be this hard,” Jeff Tweedy tells me. I concur, I think to myself as I hoist Kirsten’s right leg into the crook of my arm for another round of heaving. The fact that Jeff is there to tell me, through my ipod, was the first (smaller) miracle of the evening. Having remembered the pod and the radio but not the cable to link them, it appeared that the new kid’s birth would be accompanied only by the dulcet tones of Kirsten’s screaming. Then, lo and behold, I find the Scion has just the cable I need, in the glove box. Yea karma!
So back to birthing. According to the hospital record, labor officially started around 6pm Thursday night, when Kirsten told me the contractions were taking over and it was time to head for the hospital. On arrival, the midwife tells us that Kirsten is close to 7cm dialated and we’re well on our way. “I expect we’ll see this baby after midnight,” she says. 12:30 is after midnight, I think.
For the next few hours Kirsten shouts. This would not make for an unusual Thursday night, what with the messes I leave in the kitchen, but this time she’s naked in a jacuzzi and trying to pull my arms off every few minutes. I haven’t really seen my wife scream in pain before. Much less repeatedly, for hours. This is going to be an unusual Thursday night.
12:15am, we’re back in the birthing room, pushing starts. Somehow it seems sensible that my wife is howling in agony for the 4th straight hour, yet I am cheerleading. Never one to gush in the affirmative, I now have to come up with some positive spin on how each push moved our 2nd born another millimeter.
Push #10: Kirsten is exhausted. This is hard work.
Push #27: Kirsten alternates between trying to push her insides out, and sleeping. Kind of like our cat in a sunbeam on our nice rug.
Push #77: I can see a little bit of a little head. My eyes are at least as dialated as Kirsten’s cervix. She swears she lacks the strength to push again, but we’re so close!
Push #94: Crowning begins! I think every next push will the be last. I’m keeping careful track of the song playing, calculating whether it is suitable as THE birth song. “Girl from Ipanema” comes on. I hit skip. It would have been weird. The nurses must have all looked at each other before resuming their tugging and prying and cajoling of Kirsten.
Push #146: Doctor says the tissue just isn’t going to stretch enough, she’s going to make a cut. Hoo boy. Is the epidural Kirsten hasn’t used still available? Or even just some spray paint and a paper bag?
Push #147: The head is actually out! Wow, I think when I see the size. We weren’t even close to getting that through.
Push #148: The rest is out! It’s 3:31am. And to think that midwife promised us 12:30.
Push #148+something: The placenta is out. Placentas are big! And look like insides.
After 3:16 of pushing and no drugs, Kirsten had done it. We had a new little boy, and he was beautiful. Of course I checked the song when he finally emerged, and I kid you not: “Superwoman” by Stevie Wonder. Apropos.
After a few days, we even named our little boy: Degan Thomas Strong. Thomas represents family on both sides, and Degan we just liked. Here are some pics from his first couple days, say hi!
