This is where my memory of things begins to get a bit foggy. From this point on there are no timestamps because I can't remember exactly what happened when.
I remember trying to gown up in between contractions, as well as trying to answer a lot of the same questions I had been asked two nights prior. I remember laboring in an odd, but very comfortable position: my rear in the air and my head hanging off the end of the bed. I remember the increasing intensity of the contractions- how one moment I could breathe through them easily... and the next can only be described as agony. I remember my blood pressure kept rising and I had to wear the cuff constantly. I remember the epidural procedure and the near instant relief from it. The epidural went in only an hour before my son was born, but after 47 hours of labor I was ready for it. I didn't know whether it would be an hour or another ten hours before I actually delivered this child.
I remember getting ready to push. The urge was overwhelming! My aunt, my birth coach, was unable to make it in time, so one of the nurses had to hold my left leg. I made the most of each contraction and pushed four times with each one. I could not see the monitor behind me, but Miles' heartrate would drop with each push. For a little while they were able to raise his heartrate again by reaching in and smacking him on the head. Eventually, however, his heartrate would not come up enough so. Dr. Marotta tried a small vacuum on his head to help him out, but with little time to spare, resorted to an episiotomy. Suddenly the head was out and... I was a Mommy again!
I held my newborn son on my chest, skin-to-skin as I had requested. He was warm, wet, very noisy, and oh so precious. For a few minutes he and I just rested together, getting used to seeing each other for the first time. Jarod cut the cord and Miles was taken to have normal newborn procedures done, screaming the whole time! What a spectacular baby!