We were still wrapping later in the morning when the contractions contracted to 4 minutes apart and we headed off to the hospital. When the nurse found out it was my third labor and I waited till 4 minute spacing before coming, she wisely decided to call the doctor before getting me checked in and checked out. And she was glad she did, because I checked out at 8 cm. Do you know what that means? I will tell you. No epidural.
Being strep B positive, I needed two shots of antibiotics, an hour apart, before the baby was born. Someone forgot to tell my baby. The doctor came in to check me and I mentioned I felt like pushing. “Well give it a try next contraction.” I know he wasn’t expecting the reaction to that push. I know because he was still dressed in his street clothes. I pushed, the baby entered the birth canal, and things started moving quickly around me. Through the intensity of pushing, I remember nurses frantically dropping the table down, throwing scrubs over the doctor, and preparing the baby bassinet. Less than one hour from entering the hospital, I was holding Ethan in my arms. Born two days before Christmas with beautiful, angelic white hair.
His voice, however, was not so angelic, unless you’re including the angels with trumpets. Ethan’s cry was loud! That adorable raspy newborn cry has never exited my son’s mouth. He was born hollering loud enough for the entire floor to hear. Nurses came to see who was making the commotion. I could hear him from my room as the nurses tended him in the nursery. Even now, his voice can rattle the windows.