Adler James was born on Saturday, November 10, 2012 at 11:22am! Yipppeeee. And his birth story is NOTHING like Harper's. As a matter of fact, NOTHING about Adler is like Harper, except, maybe, well, his hair. He has red hair.
We found out we were pregnant with Adler at 15 weeks and 5 days. How can that be? You may ask. If you haven't already, you can read about the story HERE! Harper was conceived through fertility treatments after we were told that we would probably never be able to get pregnant on our own. Well, WE DID. After thousands of dollars trying to conceive Harper, a little less than two years later, we were pregnant ON OUR OWN.
My pregnancy with Adler was very different than the pregnancy with Harper. With Harper, I was sick. With Adler, I wasn't sick at all. With Harper, I was swollen everywhere. With Adler, I wasn't swollen at all. In fact, I was the unusual "You are ALL belly!" phenomenon. And I really REALLY was.
In the six weeks leading up to having Adler, I became extremely uncomfortable at night. It was impossible to sleep. My belly felt so heavy. SO HEAVY. My doctor didn't think anything of it until I went to my 36-week check up and it seemed Adler was growing a little faster than he should have been. You can read about this more HERE! Tests came back normal so on we went with the pregnancy.
At 38 weeks, New York City decided that it was going to throw us for a loop and give us a major weather disaster known as Hurricane Sandy. We prayed I wouldn't go into labor because, at this point, my doctor thought my due date was probably about a week to 10 days off. The bridges between Brooklyn and Manhattan were shut down and there was no way to get into the city to my hospital. Panic overwhelmed me and I sat on my couch for, literally, 4 days straight only getting up to use the bathroom (yes, I'm serious!). I didn't go into labor, thank God!
However, I did go into labor a day before my due date.
Originally, my doctor thought my due date was November 11th, and there I was in the early early morning of November 10th, very similar to how I went into labor with Harper. I woke up about 4:30am (just like I did with Harper!) having to pee, got back into bed, and the contractions were there. I thought I could maybe doze off for a little while but at 5am, I decided that it was maybe time to get in the shower - oh, and I mentioned to my husband that we should call our nanny to get to our apartment because it was gonna be time to go soon.
I got in the shower about 5:30am. I took a long long shower - because it was giving me relief - and probably stayed in a little too long because a little after 6am, I couldn't get out of the shower by myself. MAYDAY MAYDAY - it's time to call backup! At about 6:15am, we had to wake up our neighbor to come take care of Harper, because, well, there was NO WAY we could wait for our nanny to get to our apartment. The contractions were about 3 minutes apart and we had to get to the Upper West Side from downtown Brooklyn - and we needed to get there FAST!!
And this is where panic set in. Before I knew it, it was about 6:45am, and the cab sped off in front of our apartment as fast as he could. On our way to St. Lukes Roosevelt Hospital on 50-something and 10th Avenue - or is it 11th Avenue - Is there an 11th Avenue? SHIT! Is the hospital on 60-something? And as we were going over the Brooklyn Bridge, I looked over at Charlie and said "We aren't going to make it." I was having the urge to push and then panic REALLY set in "There isn't going to be time for an epidural! Oh God, I'm not ready to have this baby without an epidural!! I'm not prepared! I AM NOT PREPARED!!" At this point, I kept telling Charlie "I am scared. I am scared. Sorry Sorry SORRY! I am scared!" Contractions were about 2 minutes apart. And they were so strong that the minute I had time to breathe, didn't give me much relief!
I somehow got out of the cab in front of the hospital and didn't wait for Charlie to pay the driver. I walked in to the hospital front doors sweating and breathing and trying to contain myself (which wasn't working). People in the waiting room to my right were looking at me like I was going to lay down and have the baby right there in front of them. When the contraction passed, I took a deep breath, went through to the elevators with people clapping behind me. I think I even took a moment to fist pump to gain more support from the spectators. Once we were in the elevator, all hell broke loose. I then REALLY started to think there was no way I was getting an epidural.
Triage. I was in triage with Harper for about 3 hours before I went into labor and delivery. They had time to make me pee in a cup. They had time to set up an IV and monitors and all that stuff. Not this time. I was in there for about 15 minutes. Just enough to get an IV in my arm and check my cervix. I couldn't even get undressed myself. No, really. I couldn't. They put me in a room in triage instead of one of the curtained spaces that most people are put in. As soon as I saw the nurse, I yelled out something like.... "Call anesthesiology NOWWWWWWW!!!!" My labor and delivery nurses met me in triage and this is when I started asking (more like yelling at) them "Tell me the truth, BITCHES! Am I going to get an epidural or not?" (Except I didn't call them bitches. Ok. Maybeeeee I did.)
At one point, I looked up at Charlie and HE was crying. GREAT! Uhhh. I need support here. I'm about to birth a baby without an epidural! I think I asked my nurses about 10 times if I was going to be seeing an anesthesiologist. This was when one of my nurses said "If you don't calm down, they aren't going to give you one. We need to work on breathing." And just like that.... They started to help me with breathing techniques. This went on for what felt like hours. HOURS!!! And I kept looking at Charlie saying... "I'm not getting an epidural. I AM UNPREPARED!! I can't do this without one!" Breathing. Breathing. Looking out the window at clouds. Breathing. Breathing. Looking at Charlie and trying to focus but seeing everything blurry. Breathing Breathing. "WHERE THE FUCK IS THE ANESTHESIOLOGIST?" Ok, I'm going to throw up. I'm really going to throw up. "Why are they asking me questions? NO MORE QUESTIONS!"
Anesthesiology is here! 8cm dilated. Oh, Lord. I'm gonna get an epidural. I'm GONNA. GET. AN. EPIDURAL!
And here is where I started telling my anesthesiologist that I was literally cursing him but, now, I love him. And I love my nurses. And I love my husband. And I'm so sorry for being a bitch. And now, I was READY TO DO THIS!!
Before I knew it, it was time to start pushing. One push and they could see his head. about two more pushes and the head was out. Now, wait a minute. At this point, Harper was OUT. Totally OUT. Why is this taking more pushes. My obstetrician tells me to stop pushing. WHAT? Oh, God. Is something wrong? More pushes. More pushes. Baby not coming out. But I remain calm. I definitely was NOT calm when I was pushing with Harper (oh, by the way, I pushed with Harper for 3 HOURS!). About 15 minutes of pushing and he was out! The sensation I felt when he was finally out was something I will never be able to explain. In two seconds, I felt like I could breathe again. I felt my stomach literally shrink back to almost-prepregnancy size. WHAT IS THAT FEELING? I didn't have this with Harper! I look down and I'm like... "Wait, what? That does NOT look like a newborn!" My obstetrician says, "This is DEFINITELY NOT an 8 pound baby!" Baby to scale and what does that say? 10 pounds 6 ounces? WHAT? I just pushed a baby out in 15 minutes? A baby that weighs over 10 pounds?? I'm too small to have a 10 1/2 pound baby!!
But I did. And he's here. And the first week has been amazing. He sleeps at night - 6 hours stretches already! Unheard of. He is such a calm newborn baby. When he was in the womb, I told everyone that he wasn't going to be anything like Harper. Harper is my entire world - she is my mini-me. Adler is the other part of my world - he is a mini-Charlie. And I wouldn't have it any other way.