Now that our newborn is two months old, I suppose I should write down the story of his arrival. As before, this is filled with medical and feminine details. Avert your eyes if you don’t like that stuff.

You already know that we showed up for the induction the morning of March 30 (ten days past my due date) and were turned away because there was no room at the inn. They scheduled us to return at 8:00 that evening. Falco was pretty unimpressed when we picked him up a couple hours after dropping him off at his friend’s house with me still pregnant. He was told that the next time he saw us the baby would be born, so that was disappointing for all involved.

We went on about our business that day. We went with Plan B for Falco, which was a sleepover at a friend’s house while we were at the hospital. (Said friend is a saint.) While I was getting my shoes on to leave for the hospital, I felt a sudden leaking of fluid and was pretty sure my water broke. It wasn’t a huge gush, but I guess it usually isn’t. I wondered if contractions were going to start any minute, but we made it to drop off Falco and get to the hospital without incident.

On arrival, we told the labor and delivery staff that we were there for an induction and that I thought my water just broke. This got me a sterile speculum exam by the chief resident (a dude) to check for amniotic fluid. He did his test and told me there was no fluid present and that it was probably just leaking urine. I said, “OK, but why would urine leaking just suddenly start now and not feel like urine?” He was the doctor and the one with the microscope though, so we tried to believe him and move on.

I guess it was important whether or not my bag of waters was intact because it affected how they handled my induction. Since the doctor claimed it was intact, they could start the induction with a Foley bulb in my cervix because they didn’t have to worry about infection. They moved us into our labor suite, placed my IV catheter, and said they would come in for the Foley bulb procedure shortly. I was actually able to take in the enormous suite this time, since last time I was already in transition by the time they moved me and didn’t care where I was. There was a humongous TV and an even bigger wall of windows with a beautiful view of the city. It was exciting to walk into the room and know that I would be leaving with our baby.

A doctor named Mira came in around 9 p.m. to insert the Foley catheter. As she started, there was more fluid leaking and the nurse looking over her shoulder said, “She’s ruptured.” The doctor said she hadn’t gotten near my bag yet, and there was no way she could have ruptured it. They agreed that there was a high leak when I was admitted, and it just hadn’t shown up on the test the admitting doctor did. I felt pretty smug at that point and was also happy for someone to say in front of my husband that I wasn’t leaking urine.

Once the Foley bulb was called off, they came in at 9:51 p.m. to start the Pitocin. They started it at a very low dose and planned to increase it hourly. Matt and I tried to go to sleep, but it was hard because we were excited and in a strange place. (It was a little less hard for Matt to sleep, but he had less monitors and tubes and cables attached to him.) I was having contractions at this point, but they were mild and not painful.

By 11:30 p.m. the contractions were getting uncomfortable, but I could still rest. At 12:30, the contractions were coming every three minutes but still not too bad. At 2 a.m., they were waking me up but still not too intense. By 3 a.m. there was no hope of sleeping. I was in pain, and it was getting worse. The contractions were closer together; I was feeling them lower; and they were way too painful to do anything but grip the side of the bed and breathe through. I started asking why they were so low, how much longer this would last, how far along I was, etc. Mira came in to check me at around 4 a.m. and said I was 3 cm, but my cervix was very thin and making a lot of progress.

All I could hear was 3 cm, and I was devastated. I was in so much pain that I thought I was almost to the end. I got a dose of Fentanyl and talked to the nurse about how much longer it might last (when I could talk between contractions). She said I could expect about a centimeter an hour, and I told her I didn’t think I could make it. I was in so much pain that there was no way I could survive 6 or 7 more hours without the epidural. I said maybe I was farther along than they thought, but she said I wasn’t acting like someone who was in transition so she didn’t think so. She turned off the pitocin, but it didn’t help. I started feeling crazy. I nearly cried about the pain and not wanting the epidural and being 3 cm and feeling disappointed that it wasn’t going faster.

A particularly bad contraction came, and I said I had to go to the bathroom when it was done. When I got back from the bathroom, I said I was feeling intense rectal pressure. Then things got crazy. Apparently, “rectal pressure” means get some doctors in here right now. Mira checked me again and said I was 9 cm. Those were the best words I ever heard since I heard “you’re almost complete” in the same situation with Falco. More nurses came in, and I asked if my midwife, Judith, would be there. She arrived shortly, and I was so glad to see her. I saw her for prenatal care for both pregnancies, and having here there for the delivery was very special.

At this point, there were a lot of people in the room, my body was involuntarily pushing the baby out, and the doctor who told me my water hadn’t broken looked at me and said, “You’re nine centimeters. You still have one centimeter to go. You can’t push yet.” I don’t think I said, “Get out of here right now!” to him, but I wanted to. Maybe I did because that was the last I ever saw of that guy. Another nurse who was a voice of reason told me to moan through the contractions instead of pushing, which I did even though I felt like embarrassed about it.

I think they just needed me to hold off so that there could actually be someone there to catch the baby because as soon as Judith gave me the OK to push it went FAST. I was prepared for hours of pushing and lots of coaching like with Falco. Instead, Judith said, “Just do what you need to do.” I pushed how it came naturally with each contraction, and after just a few pushes she said, “You’re almost there.” I asked if she was kidding, but she said the nose was already out. I couldn’t believe it. I think I pushed for about five minutes, and our sweet, beautiful baby was born!

Murdock was born at 5:19 a.m. (just over an hour after they told me I was 3 cm). Judith told me to reach down and grab my baby, which I thought I was too squeamish to do, but I’m so glad I did. I thought I wanted them to clean him up and give him to me all wrapped up, but it was so much better to hold him the moment he was born. He hardly even cried! He looked around and sucked on his fingers, and I think we was happy right where he was. The whole scene was very special. Even though we were in a hospital and I was hooked up to machines, being in the dark room surrounded by my husband, midwife, and Mira made that all go away.

After they patched me up, which was not fun but definitely worth it to have that tiny baby in my arms, everyone left but one nurse. Matt and I looked at the sunrise over our city and fell instantly in love with little Murdock. I felt great and was able to walk to our postpartum room just a couple hours after the delivery. Matt left to get Falco, and I was so excited for him to meet his baby brother. Falco was a little nervous because of the hospital setting but was clearly in awe of the new member of our family.

I only had to stay one night in the hospital, and it was great to be home with all my boys the next day. From the minute he was born, I don’t know what we ever did without Murdock in our lives. We are all so, so happy to have him here!