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RICHARD THOMAS MARTIN, III

We had been vacationing in Disneyworld and I was waiting for my period. Since I had erratic periods in the past I really didn't think anything of it. Anyway, I was scheduled to see my OB the day after we arrived home for a consultation - we wanted to be pregnant again and I wanted to speak with him about it. When I saw him on September 12, 1996, I showed him the temperature charts I had been keeping. Again, (as with my first pregnancy) before I even had a test he confirmed I was pregnant. (My temp had stayed high and I had "quite a sufficient amount of intercourse" to become pregnant). As soon as I left his office I stopped at the pay phone in the lobby to call my husband and my girlfriend Beth. Let the games begin…

Richard and I were pregnant with our second child and due April 28, 1997. Because of borderline gestational diabetes my OB had agreed to induce labor on April 29th. We arrived at the hospital at midnight. When I was told to change into the hospital gown I was amazed that all the snaps and ties were in the right places - yes that's right, the back door would not be flapping on this gown (don't they realize this is undignified enough without making it worse?!). An IV was started (impressively on the first attempt) and Cervadil was administered. My husband left around 3:00 am to go home and get some sleep. At least one of us would have all our faculties for the next day.

April 29, 1997
I awoke at 5:30 am and asked to take a shower. I was told no (I don't know what hospitals have against patients taking showers - with all they charge a little water shouldn't increase the price that much). At 7:00 am (after the shift change) the nurse assigned to me let me take my shower. (She was really sweet and I knew my husband would be glad to see her - she was a blond "chickie babe"). Of course, just when I was heading for the shower my doctor came in and asked me what I was doing (what did he think I was doing with a bottle of shampoo, a razor and some soap - having a tea party?!!). I told him he'd have to come back in a half hour because I was taking a shower whether he liked it or not. (Barry (my OB) was not a happy camper - I had just thrown off his already hectic schedule). At 7:30 am the nurse started my pitocin drip. At 9:00 am my husband and doula arrived. My doula was hoping my child would be born on the 29th as that was her birthday. (I was a little disappointed with the doula - she had been doing this for two years yet seemed very inexperienced). All of us (including my nurse) got along really well so time was flying. By 11:30 am contractions had started. They weren't all that bad and I was able to talk through most of them. At 2:00 pm I had gotten to 3 centimeters and 75% effaced at which time my OB ordered the resident to stretch my cervix. Talk about pain. Flat on my back, pillows under my butt with someone up to their elbows inside me is not a very comfortable position to be in. At 4:00 pm nothing had changed. My doctor decided to stop the pitocin for the day and resume the next (which was no big surprise to me because the same thing had happened 17 months earlier with the birth of my daughter). I asked my doctor if I could spend the night at home and since they were not administering Cervadil because I was already 75% effaced he said yes. We picked up our daughter at a friend's, went out to dinner and I was in bed by 8:30 pm.

April 30, 1997
We arrived at the hospital at 6:00 am. This baby had to be born today because diamond is the April birthstone and I had my sights set on a two carat solitaire… The nurse we had was great - she was able to insert my IV on the first attempt and kept me amused with antics about her recent trip to Maui. At 7:00 am the pitocin was started. We waited and waited. Watched some TV. Played some cards. NOTHING HAPPENED!!! No contractions. I was devastated - not to mention a little crazed. I was surprised that they didn't admit me to the psychiatric ward. I said I didn't care if the baby was ever born - I just wanted to die. What was wrong with me - I was a failure. After I calmed down (when my husband turned the soaps back on and started getting my mind off things - he said soaps soothed the savage beast) I started crying and wanted to go home. Nobody would discharge me without Barry's permission. There was a shift change and the new nurse I had was extremely sweet. She came in and asked if there was anything she could do. I remember her asking me if she could get me something to eat stating that it had been a long time since my last meal and I needed to keep my strength up and nourish myself and the baby. This sent me into another tailspin of tears. I didn't want people to be nice to me. I just wanted to wallow in my state of sorrow and self pity!! My OB was in surgery and the nurse and resident assigned to me would not discharge me without him speaking to me first. At 4:00 pm he very cautiously entered my room. He was pretty surprised at how well I was taking this (he missed my Oscar winning performance an hour earlier). He said he would see me in the office on Monday, May 5th and we would take things from there.

May 4, 1997
On Saturday, May 3rd, I had absolutely no fetal movement. I didn't really worry about it because I hadn't been very active and figured the baby was resting. So we went mall walking. I ate tons of carbohydrates and caffeine. When I went to bed the baby still wasn't moving. At 4:00 am I decided to call my doctor's service. The doctor on call sent me to L&D to be checked out. I took a shower (I was thinking ahead) and went to the hospital. My husband and daughter were still at home all snug in their beds. I was evaluated and the baby was fine, however, the doctor on call was admitting me and wanted me to be induced. Again, I begged and pleaded with them to let me go home. I had driven myself to the hospital, didn't have my bag, etc. I asked if they had talked to my OB and they said they would after I returned (which I thought was pretty stupid - what if he wanted to wait another day?!). When I was leaving the nurse and resident were teasing me that if I had sex before I got back labor might start naturally - like that would happen. NOT!!! I stopped to buy doughnuts and a newspaper, went home, called my doula (I would have to have a new person as the one I had previously was at the hospital with another patient), ate breakfast (I knew it would be a long time before I was fed), dropped my daughter off at our friend's house, and headed back to the hospital.

I arrived back to the hospital at 11:00 am (of course because it took two hours everyone thought I did the deed before I got back), they called my doctor and his exact words were "Go for it!", so we started the pitocin. My nurse, Carol was absolutely great. What a stitch. She was hysterical. It really kept my mind off things. When she heard about my experience earlier in the week she said she doubted I ever received the pitocin (Diane was probably too into telling her Maui story). My doula, Mary Ann, arrived around 11:30 am - I immediately liked her better than the first one I had, she was the sweetest person and just talking to her was soothing (for anyone who is contemplating a doula I HIGHLY recommend it). The contractions started around 12:30 pm. They were about three minutes apart. They were steady but not getting closer or more intense. I was able to talk through them at this point and we were having very interesting and off the wall conversations about computers, children, and the Indians game we were watching. At 3:00 pm I was still 3 ˝ centimeters and the baby was ballatable (floating in fluid - not stationed in pelvis). At about 4:30 pm I really had to pee but I wasn't allowed to get out of the bed. The nurse brought me a bedpan and I couldn't go. Everyone offered to leave the room thinking it was a privacy issue (at this point in time how in the world could it be a privacy issue? I had already had about thirty different hands inside me and tons of people had a bird's eye view of me splayed out on the bed). They were trying to help me by running water and putting my hand in a cup of water. Finally after about ten minutes it worked and I felt better. I still was not progressing so the nurse called my doctor and he had them break my water. Once they broke my water all hell broke loose. The contractions were fast and furious. So bad that they could not even take my vitals. The nurse suggested that they reduce the amount of pitocin being administered but I was afraid that labor, again, would fail to progress. My doula and husband were great at keeping my mind off the pain. Each one of them was massaging a different part of my body (neck and shoulders, feet and legs, etc.). I was determined that I would not have an epidural until I was at least 6 centimeters. It was now 7:00 pm and the pain was getting worse and worse. I was bummed because my nurse Carol was off duty but she promised she would get the best nurse on duty for me and she did. Nancy was a gem. She was very calming and soothing even though I had started loosing control. My doctor had arrived and asked how I was doing. How did he think I was doing?? I wasn't exactly in the mood to chat - he got that signal right away so went into the hall with my husband. I was crying and begging someone to help me. (With my first birth I was very quiet and said nothing). Since the resident was busy with another patient I threw caution to the wind and begged for my epidural - at that point I didn't care if I was still 3 centimeters or not - just give me drugs!!. The anesthesiologist was busy and I was told it would be another 40 minutes before any relief was in sight. I asked the nurse to turn off the pitocin - she already had one hour earlier - shows how much I was paying attention!!

The anesthesiologist came in to administer the epidural - I was very glad to see her!! Because my contractions were continuous she had to do the best she could with getting the catheter in my back and not wait for the contractions to stop (they didn't stop - they just kept going and going and going - kind of like the Energizer bunny). She administered the drugs and I had quite a bit of relief from the pain, although not as much relief as I would have hoped (with my first child I was really drugged). I could still feel the contractions. At this point the baby still had not descended. I was worried that a C-section would be necessary. My OB told me to wait it out a while longer - it was his job to worry.

Within 40 minutes I told the nurse that I was going to have the bowel movement of my life - she was sure it was the baby descending. I argued with her that I should know what was happening with my body it wasn't the baby and I needed the bedpan. She excitedly left the room to find my doctor and ignored my request for the bedpan. She and the doctor arrived back in the room and the doctor insisted on checking me. He didn't have to do very much except raise the sheet and tell me the kid had a ton of hair, it was time to push. So we began pushing. By this time the contractions had gone to about three minutes apart and when I wasn't pushing my husband and doctor were very interested in watching "Forrest Gump" on the tube (my doula liked the movie so well she named her son who was wo years old Forrest). Hello - I was trying to have a kid here and they were comparing notes on the movie!! After the third push my OB thought he was doing me a favor by grabbing the baby's head and pulling it out a bit. Instead of letting me push the whole head through he stopped the push at the widest girth of the head. Again he and my hubby went back to "Forrest Gump" while I had what felt like a bowling ball waiting to be expelled. Three more pushes and his head was out. He immediately started crying when the doctor suctioned his nose. I asked what it was and the doctor said he couldn't tell yet. Two more pushes and he was out!! When my husband shouted "It's a boy" (I really wanted a boy this time) I didn't believe him. But of course I looked and could definitely tell I had a son. The baby had been very active throughout the pregnancy and had tied two knots in the cord. Fortunately the cord wasn't wrapped too tightly around his neck and my husband was able to cut it (our daughter was almost strangled and the doctor had to do it very quickly). He weighed 7 lbs. 4 ozs. and was 19 ˝ inches. His APGAR's were 9 and 9 - he was perfectly healthy and about the ugliest thing I had ever seen (my daughter was really cute and I expected the same this time).

It's amazing how two pregnancies, labors and deliveries could be so different. With my daughter it was a very problematic pregnancy (I was on bedrest for one month and had to cut back on my hours at work), but with my son, with the exception of having to be induced three different times it was textbook. But they are both happy and healthy and that's all that matters.

We arrived home and all was well. He eats like a pig (I formula feed - had no milk with my first pregnancy but could have fed Ethiopia three days after he was born) and sleeps really well. Richard is now 3-1/2 months old, much cuter than he was, sleeps eight to ten hours through the night, coos, smiles and laughs, and is thriving (gained doubles his weight and grew five inches since his two week check-up). His 21 month old big sister just adores him and is always trying to share her toys, food, juice, etc. with him. Although I said that two children would be enough, we have already begun picking names for when we decide to try this again.

Kimberly Martin
Mother of Lauren Elizabeth (11/15/95) and Richard Thomas Martin, III (5/4/97)