Madeline's Birth Story

I (this is Ben) have the honor of telling the tale of the day Madeline was born.  We've done this for all three kids so far, each time with their own unique series of events.  I haven't gotten to write one yet, so this is my first time!  Caroline wanted me to write the edited version, because hers may include language not fit for children, think F-bombs with each contraction.

November 23rd was a Sunday, the day of the American Music Awards, which we had never intended to watch, but ended up sitting through straight through to the end.  To preface this a little, the original due date was November 22nd, which both Caroline and I thought we'd never make it to.  She had had some contractions during the week leading up, and I really thought the Tuesday before was going to be the day, when she told me at 2am that her contractions had started, but then they stopped.  We had help in the form of not one, but two grandmas, since we had planned ahead with a little overlapping time, not thinking that little Madeline would postpone her arrival.  We had been trying all the old wives' tales to get the contractions started, but nothing seemed to be working.  On the 23rd, we went for a nearly three mile walk in the morning and in the afternoon Caroline found a yoga move that seemed to be inducing contractions, but again, they fizzled out.  At this point we started to worry that Madeline may just wait out both grandmas and decide to make her entrance on say, Thanksgiving day.

So as the AMAs were in full swing, with Pitbull making awkward transitions from one act to the next, when the contractions started ever so slightly at 10:40 pm.  Caroline let a couple go by, probably since this had happened a few times already, before first telling me, "I think something is happening, they're getting stronger."  We switched to House Hunters on HGTV, and started recording some of the contractions, some would go for 30 seconds, others for a full minute anywhere from 1 to 8 minutes apart.  In the tradition of Caroline's labors though, erratic nonsense contractions are the norm.  Around 12:20 am we both had the same thought, this has been going on long enough, we should really get the heck out of here.

The whole house was asleep, so we packed up the car and wrote a note.  We told the grandmas we were making like a baby (heading out...) and not to wait up for us.  The hospital is about a 10 minute drive away, much shorter than when we lived in RI, and didn't involve getting on any freeways, thankfully.  At 12:30 am, the roads were also blissfully empty, and parking in the usually overflowing parking garage on campus was a piece of cake.  Something about getting in the car kicked the contractions into high gear, and Caroline started to get "in the zone."  With each contraction there were long deep breaths followed by eventual relief.  By the time we were pulling into the parking garage, Caroline, mid-contraction, was really starting to feel it.  Sitting down seemed to make it worse, and even though I offered to drop her at the entrance and run, she decided to make the 2 block walk from the garage to the entrance.  This walk probably took us another 20 minutes, and we stopped several times for Caroline to crouch, squat, breathe, and then keep going.  Did I mention the front door was locked!  The Ohio State University Hospital, and the gigantic sliding glass doors didn't budge when we got to the threshold.  Thankfully, I have a badge; swipe, and we're in.

Up on the 6th floor we were greeted by a groggy woman at the desk and an empty waiting room.  Caroline immediately had to assume her usual four-legged position as the woman asked her if she'd recently been to Liberia, her address, her OB's name, and her due date.  It was 1:05 am when we officially checked in.  We got moved over to the triage room, where Caroline was quickly progressing through labor, not able to sit still at all, as usual spending the majority of the time on the floor in the only position that seemed to relieve the pain of each contraction.  At 1:11 am the triage nurse came in to go through several questions, including any chance of having Ebola, who then coerced Caroline to get into the bed to get the monitor on and "get checked."  She's was 6 cm according to the nurse, who did mention having at least 15 years of experience, which was somewhat reassuring.  Caroline's main concern as soon as the triage nurse hit the door was making sure everyone she met was aware she wanted an epidural, since the experience with Claire taught her to ask early and often.  The triage nurse got the clue and said that it would just be a few minutes, we'd move over to the L&D room and anesthesia would be arriving shortly.  Then it was back on the floor, out goes the nurse, in comes a resident who more or less stood there to say she needed to do an ultrasound as part of a...who knows, study, seriously bad timing.

This was about the time Caroline got the sudden urge to barf.  We had vegetarian chili that night, a better choice than pizza.

After another few minutes on the floor, and then after throwing out the tiniest barf bag ever, in comes the resident who does the shortest ultrasound ever, "yup the head's down."  The nurse was back with the wheelchair, I grabbed Caroline's belongings, and away we went.

At 1:40 am we entered the actual L&D room, which looks just like the one from the tour, with wood grains, muted paint tones, and all the useless features like where to plug in your iPod to pipe in your soothing birthing mix.  At this point Caroline is basically writhing in the bed just trying to get comfortable, again asking about the epidural, while one of two new nurses is trying repeatedly to put an IV in her left arm.  She thought she had it once, was trying to draw some blood, then lost it, and ended up having to pull it out.  Caroline rolled on her left side, which seemed to help her comfort, and then felt a gush.  The second nurse was calling the desk to verify that Dr. Newman (the on-call OB) was ACTUALLY on her way, and then asked to have the second year resident come and "stand-by," which is all she ended up doing.

As soon as the water broke, Caroline was pushing, she was telling the nurse with the IV, and the third nurse asking if she had a fever and been to West Africa recently, that she had to push.  They all said to wait, to which I couldn't help but laugh (on the inside).  On the outside I did the only thing I could do and suggested that Caroline "breathe," which she had been doing, but really all I wanted to see was the OB show up or for the second year resident act like she'd been here before; I was on the verge of gowning up, it was go time people!  Luckily, about 3 minutes later, in walks Dr. Newman, who Caroline had seen once, she poked her head over the bed rail to say hi, and then got out the catcher's mitt.  Caroline started pushing, there's a knock at the door, anesthesia here for the...oh, ok, then they turned around and left.  With three pushes, our beautiful little girl arrived, crying and plump, ready to join our busy world.  It was 1:58 am, whew, we made it.