Lance Julian Ford

"They don't call it labor for nothing"--Grandpa Lance

We last left off on Tuesday of my pre-labor.  After no sleep and regular contractions, we went to see the OB on Wednesday afternoon only to find out I was only 2 centimeters dilated!  Bad news after three days of contractions and very little rest.  We went out for spicy food, walked as much as I could handle and hoped for progress.  By that afternoon I was in tears after most of the contractions.  I was exhausted, having horrible back pain and frustrated!  Michelle came over and helped us stay at home for what was finally full labor.  She showed Leighton how to press my lower back during contractions to ease the back pain.  We were so exhausted that we were literally falling asleep in the 2-4 minutes between contractions.  By midnight, I couldn't take it anymore.  We decided to drive to Kaiser.

We tried walking between contractions, when one hit, Michelle was my brace, Leighton squeezed my back.

When they finally get around to checking me in triage, I was only 3 centimeters!  I wanted to cry.  We did an ultra sound and found out that, yes, Roasty was turned sideways so he wasn't properly pushing on my cervix and helping labor move.  We decided to go home and try to get further along, but not without a glorious shot of morphine in the butt to help me get some rest.  That only gave me about an hour and a half of rest.  Leighton and I spent the rest of the time in the hot tub, from about 4am-6am, until Michelle came back over.  The exhaustion was too much.  At this rate, I wouldn't have the energy to push, back to Kaiser.  

They checked and...only 4 centimeters!  Spirits low, we went for plan B.  We stayed, got an epidural and started pitocin.  Me and Roasty weren't going to be able to do this alone.  Once on the epidural, I could finally get some much needed sleep.  But I was hooked up to a million things--IV in my hand, epidural in my back, catheter, blood pressure machine on the other arm, and blood oxygen finger monitor.  Rolling over took some help.  Grandma Susie showed up with some entertainment and then we waited and waited and waited and waited.

Thursday afternoon, waiting...

I glanced at the clock--1:30pm, I was missing the 8th grade graduation at my school.  We kept our eyes on the time, wondering if Roasty would share a birthday with Uncle Karl.  Leighton and I were still holding out hope that we could maybe make it to Sam and Eleanor's wedding on Saturday, if only Roasty would hurry up.  Finally some good news.  Around dinner time, the doctor comes in to check again and...we're at 8 centimeters!  It was working!  Joy and high fives all around.  Then more waiting.

The next check, we're at 9 centimeters, the next one, 9.5, the next one, 9.5 again.  Finally, Dr. White decided to help the last half a centimeter along and...more waiting.  He was at -1 station, meaning his head was almost all the way down on my cervix, we just wanted to let him get a little lower before pushing.  My epidural was not very strong.  I had to get two booster shots which was an erie sensation of cold liquid down my back.  I was feeling the contractions more and my back was killing me.  

For about 2 and a half hours, I pushed that huge baby out.  I waited for each contraction and then took a deep breath, pushed for 10 second, another deep breath, push for 10 second, another deep breath, push for 10 seconds and then wait for the next contraction.  At first I couldn't feel the baby and it was hard to tell what the heck I was doing.  Everything hurt and I kept asking, WHAT IS HAPPENING?  IS ANYTHING HAPPENING?  At one point I opened my eyes and the only people in the room were Leighton and Michelle.  Apparently, all the doctors and nurses went in the hallway for a coffee break!  Another point I remember was about an hour into it when everyone got excited--we see his head!--I thought that meant I was close.  So so so wrong.  

As he got further down the canal, it got more and more painful.  I could feel massive pressure, the contractions were constant, my back was killing me, I was ready for Plan C--don't they have a vacuum or something?  Help a sister out!  I pushed on one side, then switched to the other, then used the squat bar, then back to the side, then back to the squat bar.  I was really starting to wonder if the baby would ever come out.  I could feel Dr. White using her hands to twist his head and help stretch him out.  People starting getting more excited and more encouraging, but I didn't kid myself that this meant anything, I had been fooled once already.  At 6:05 am his head came out and the rest of his body came flying out behind.  He was covered in shit.  Leighton caught him, cut the cord and they whisked him off to be cleaned.  He had the biggest cone head!  I didn't even know that was possible.  Evidence that he wasn't quite pointed the right way--his cone was off to one side.  

9.3 ounces.

Cone head!  That is not a shadow...

They finally brought him to me and honestly, I wasn't really sure what to make of this creature that had just put me through that week of hell.  He didn't scream at all.  He's beautiful--dark hair, big nose, big lips, long toes.  He's extremely strong.  He lifts his head up, he grabs and pulls.  They weighed him in at 9.3 oz and 22 inches long.  All visitors, doctors, and nurses comment on how handsome he is.  Once we made it to the recovery room, I had forgiven him and I fall more and more in love with him every day.  

We are hanging out at home, trying to sort out this new life.  Grandma and Grandpa come over every day and give us relief, cook for us, and generally take care of us.  We are up for visitors and are around all day every day, so give either Leighton or I a call if you want to come meet Little Lance.  He'll either be asleep or eating.  

   

Proud Grandma and Great Aunt

Papa is not sure what to make of him either.

Auntie Cha and Auntie Yo bring Champagne!

Why did you hurt me so much?

Sarah and Ted, in town for the wedding, get to meet Lance on his birthday.

It took us until Sunday to be sure we had the right name.  He is Lance after his grandpa, a person both Leighton and I admire and we hope our son can be just as smart, generous, hard working and thoughtful.  He is Julian after Leighton's Uncle Julian, known as Uncle Jolly.  Uncle Jolly, Leighton's mother's brother, came to Jamaica from the Philippines for his sister's wedding and never left.  Leighton has fond memories of spending time with Uncle Jolly and Aunt Emy and their son, Julian (known as Kenny) in Lucea.  Leighton's brother, Gerald Julian Ford is also name after Uncle Jolly and he and Roasty share the same birthday.