Hank's arrival

Our Baby Brother finally has a name and a body to go with all those kicks! Andrew Henry Scherbel joined our family the evening of August 21st. He weighed in at 8 pounds, 10 ounces and was 22 and a half inches long. And boy, oh boy, was it a ride getting him here.

When Jed was born, it was 5 days after his due date in the middle of a snowy Saturday in Rexburg. So when the doctor told me again that I was due on the 15th, I basically laughed in her face. Secretly I hoped I might be one of those mythical women who have their second baby early, but I knew it was a pipe dream. When the 15th rolled around, I barely nodded. The 18th I felt a little hopeful but nothing happened. Monday the 20th I thought to myself "would be a little weird if I had a baby today because then his birthday would be 8/20/12, and Jed's is 12/20/08 and that would be too strange." I had a doctor's appointment that day, and Dave came with me and we made a lunch date of it.

I had to have a non-stress test and an ultrasound since I was over my due date. The non-stress test came back perfectly normal but something about the ultrasound made the doctor nervous. I'm not really sure why. I had 2 pockets of fluid surrounding the baby, each with about 2 cm of fluid in them, and apparently that's perfectly fine, but my doctor hinted at inducing me that day. I am generally opposed to induction anyway, but especially Monday, because Dave and I had told Jed we'd be home, and I was not going to break that promise to him. He struggles enough having us gone, but to have us not come home when we said we would...I just couldn't do that to him. So I told the doctor if he really was adamant about inducing me, it would have to wait til the next day. He said okay and we went home to somehow eat a relaxed dinner and go to bed.

Tuesday we were back at the hospital at 7 am. We met the nurses and I got undressed and received the Cytotek, the drug that would hopefully help me continue to dialate (I was at a 2) and go into a natural labor. Dave and I then began the looong cycle of being monitored for 20 minutes while sitting in bed, then walking for 40 minutes to keep things moving. We joked with the nursing staff and walked the tiny OB department's one hall for several hours. I swear we wore a groove in that floor! My doctor came back to check me about 2 pm and I had progressed enough for him to break my water. It was a relief not to have to walk that boring hallway any more, but I missed my freedom. Immediately my contractions started to become a little more intense and more frequent, but they weren't anything like the horrible back labor I had had with Jed. I was able to focus and breathe through them and they passed fairly quickly.

Around 4 pm I had made enough progress and was having hard enough contractions that I talked to the nurse about getting an epidural. A woman in the room next door had received hers a few minutes previously, so I wasn't going to have to wait for the anesthesiologist very long, when suddenly her baby's heart rate plummeted (it was so scary to hear this from the next room) and they thought they might need him for an emergency C-section. So I had to wait. It felt like an eternity, breathing through those contractions and focusing on making the pain bubbles pop away (that is the only way I can explain what was going on in my mind). To help me deal with the contractions, I decided to try an IV drug that only made me loopy and slowed my contractions down. I could deal with them better because I could feel them coming for a longer period of time, but it didn't really lessen the intensity. And it made me think the strangest things that I was compelled to tell Dave. I sincerely couldn't keep my mouth shut, even though I knew as I was saying them, that what was coming out of my mouth was totally idiotic.

After an hour the drug finally wore off and I felt back to my self. The contractions became more frequent and waaayyy more intense--and they moved into my back. The woman next door successfully and quickly delivered her baby and I was cleared for the epidural, so it looked like relief was in sight. Since the delivery room was fairly small, the anesthesiologist and the nurse asked Dave to leave while I received the epidural. I felt like my lifeline was being ripped away and I wanted to weep. I needed Dave to lean on! Dave was not happy to go but he went gracefully and moved our belongings into our recovery room. The contractions became even more intense when I sat up and leaned over for the epidural. And then the anesthesiologist realized that the "bit of scoliosis" that I mentioned was more than he was prepared to deal with. I leaned over the chair, gripping Nurse Erin (truly an angelic person) for all I was worth during the contractions, while he tried to find a place to put the epidural. But every time he would get it in, it felt like a huge railroad spike was being driven just to the right of my spine and I couldn't take it. Finally he found a place where the epidural didn't hurt too bad, but relief never came. My contractions were even closer and more intense than before. I kept waiting for the epidural to kick in, but it just wasn't going to happen.

Finally they let Dave come back in the delivery room. I was so glad to see him and incredibly anxious for the pain to be over. I told Dave "you have to get them to cut this baby out of me. I can not do this any more! I am not strong enough to deal with this pain any longer." Dave was so great. He told me "Holly, you have to do this. There is no other way. Keep breathing and you will get through it and then you can see Hank." Looking back now, I realize that at that point, I was probably in transition, but at the time, I was so desperate to escape those contractions that I couldn't think of anything else. I just hid my face in the side of the bed and breathed and squeezed Dave's hand and the bed railing for all I was worth, riding each contraction out.

At that point, the nurses' shift changed and Erin had to leave. I loved Erin and was so sad to see her go. I also had to pee. Somehow that became the most important thing in the world--emptying my bladder. I tried to convince my new nurse to just let me stand up and go to the bathroom, but she wouldn't let me because of the "epidural." I told her "I can feel my legs just fine, I want to go PEE!" She tried to put in a catheter but couldn't make it work, so she tried to convince me to just pee on some towels. I thought "no way am I peeing in the same bedding that I deliver a baby in. He'll get dirty." The other nurse, Katie, the nursing supervisor, asked me to push against her hands with my feet. I pushed and she said "wow, you really aren't numb at all! you can totally go to the bathroom." So I stood up and shuffled to the bathroom. As soon as my bladder was empty and I stood up, I felt a huge rush of blood and felt the baby's head descending pretty rapidly. I gave a huge moan and Katie said "you have to get back on the bed. You can't have your baby on the floor." I got on the bed with a lot of help and decided I was ready to push. Someone said "you can't be ready to push, we have to check you." I said "I am going to push. I can feel his head and I am PUSHING!" I pulled my knees apart and there was the crown of his head.

I felt like at that point I stalled, that it took me forever to push him out, because all I could think about was that it wasn't happening as fast as I wanted. Really, though, it only took 4 minutes to push him out, and I truly felt every one of those minutes. I was so aware of every part of his body entering the world and even though it hurt more than anything I have ever experienced, it was also really, really cool. I had a little moment between contractions when I begged for someone to just pull him out and Dave looked down at me and said "Holly, you can do this! You're so close. I can see his tiny ears and they are so beautiful!" That was the motivation I needed to finish the job and when they put him bloody and screaming on my belly I was so proud of myself and Dave and Hank for what we accomplished.

















We spent 2 days in the hospital, resting and recuperating and being poked and prodded waaaaaay too often. Jed and my mom came to visit us on Wednesday and it was so great to see Jed.

































He was a little unsure about Hank at first--when we asked him what he thought, he said "I don't like it."

But after exploring the hospital bed, the food, watching Hank nurse, getting to go on a tour of the hospital and eating a few treats, Jed seemed to warm up to Hank enough to give him an air kiss when it was time for he and my mom to go back home.

Nana, of course, loves her newest grandson very much!

We spent some more time under observation, getting Hank the mandatory tests--
















Dave's favorite was the hearing test where Hank looked like the world's smallest DJ--and missing our own bed. We were so happy to come home yesterday afternoon!

I feel like my recovery this time around was a lot faster and a lot easier. I am not sure if this is due to the epidural not working or what, but I already feel a lot more like "normal" than I did this same time when Jed was born. I am also enjoying Hank a lot more because I feel relaxed about everything--I am not worrying about tracking his wet and dirty diapers and keeping track of which side he last nursed--all those things that are so "important" the first time around. It is so nice to just have a tiny bundle to hold and snuggle. 

Hank is already a good eater and wants to do so OFTEN and mostly at night. I am trying to remember that this bleary exhaustion will end soon, that my body will settle down and that soon this will all be normal. It's already starting to seem normal to Jed. Maybe a bit too quickly, in fact--Jed dove on Hank and I while we were nursing this afternoon. He loves to feel Hank's soft hair and look at his "whirlpool" (his cowlick) and his long feet and toes. I am proud of Jed for how well he's adjusting to having someone new to share Dave and I with. Today was Hank's first well-baby visit and he was a bit fussy as we drove from the doctor's office to the park where we told Jed he could play after the doctor's. I looked in the back seat and Jed was saying "it's okay, baby Hank, you don't need to cry, it's all right." Hank really responded to Jed's voice and actually calmed down! I have high hopes for the future fun and tousles these two will have together.