Sam's Turn

When Alex had just turned 3, and Coleman was just over 1, we moved from Houston to San Antonio Texas.  James had a US Army scholarship to pay for school, and since he had to be in San Antonio over the summer after graduation for officer training,  he elected to do his last externship for school at the Brooke Army Medical Centre in San Antonio.

We arrived in San Antonio right before Christmas, and James' rotation would go from January - until graduation at the end of April.  Officer training would run from June - mid-Sept, and then the Army would send us to our 3 year posting.  Things at this point were up in the air as to when or where we would move, so although I would have like to been pregnant around the time Coleman turned 1, we'd decided to wait a bit.

Once we hit the new year in San Antonio though, I was ready for that next baby.  In February we started talking - James still wanted to wait until we were moved and settled in our posting before I even got pregnant, but I wanted to get pregnant within a few months and move during my 2nd trimester.

So who won?

Neither of us!  I was actually pregnant already, unbeknownst to us.  The timing was fine by me -although a little bit tight since we would move when I was 36 weeks pregnant.  Shortly after this, we found out that it would be a BIG move - all the way over to Hanau, Germany.

This pregnancy went like the others - not too sick, just so, so tired all the time.  This time I opted for an ultrasound to find out the gender - I wanted to know which set of baby clothes to bring to Germany with us, and which set could wait and arrive with the slower shipment (ie. post-baby).  But really, the ultrasound just confirmed what I already had known - this was another boy.

Oh - but a note on the ultrasound - I was I think 22 weeks or so, but the baby's head measured 40 weeks already....nothing to be alarmed about, just interesting (or so I thought).

Anyway - fast forward - graduation, visit home, Optometry board exams in US and Canada, officer training, move to Germany, live in temporary quarters while we wait for a house, James' new job starts, one quick weekend away to Southern Germany...

And then, the week before my due date.  It was a Saturday, and we spent most of the day in town wandering around sight seeing and shopping - ie.lots of walking.  That evening we went to James' colleague's house for dinner - yummy but spicy Spanish food.  We stayed late enough visiting that Alex and Coleman were already asleep when we left - and we all joked that the kids should stay "just in case".  But, of course we didn't.

Can you tell where this is going?

I woke u pabout midnight with really strong Braxton-Hicks contractions - this wasn't that unusual - I'd been having them for weeks every night, but they'd never woken me before.  After an hour or so, spend reading on the couch, I realized that these were real contractions and I was in labour.  By 3 am James was up with me, and shortly after that he decided to call our friend over to stay with the kids so we could head into the hospital.  I of course, thought it wasn't time, but I went along with it anyway. 

Donovan came over, and we headed out.  The contractions were painful, but still only every few minutes, and not too long.  Here's the thing about the city hospital in Hanau - there is no parking.  You have to use a city lot about 2 blocks away.  James was planning on just dropping me at the ER, as we were instructed to do, but I vetoed.  I was feeling fine, and I figured the walk would speed things along.  So we parked and walked, pausing for a few contractions along the way.

We entered the labour and delivery ward, and were met by one of the midwives working that night.  She checked me, and saw that I was almost fully dilated - to all of our surprise!!  I really felt like labour hadn't even started "for reals".  It was pretty sweet to hear that I was almost done.

Or was I???

Anyway, we skipped the labour rooms and went right into the delivery room.  A couple of contractions later, my water broke, and the pushing started, and....nothing.  I pushed and pushed, we tried lots of different positions, but I could feel the baby's head just sitting against my hip and going nowhere.

We probably got to the hospital by 4 am, and this must have been about 4:30, and by 5:00 I was lying an my side for three contractions, then turning to the other side for 3 contractions - all in the hope of shifting this baby.  But I could tell it wasn't working - I knew how it was supposed to feel as the baby descended - and this wasn't it.  Plus, hello, I could feel that head right up against my hip in the exact same spot EVERY SINGLE TIME.

Around 5:30 or 6 the midwife consulted with the doctor and us - the consensus was that I would push for one more hour and if the baby hadn't moved at all, then I would have to have a C-section. 

You know what, I love having a plan and something to focus on.  So I pushed away for another hour, with all my energy, and....nothing.  Not a single millimeter of movement.  Here's where it gets interesting -- again, doctor, midwife, James and me.  3 out of the 4 wanted to wait for another hour and see if the baby would move - and 1 of us said NO WAY!  Can you guess who that was?  Yes, the sweaty, tired one lying on the table who KNEW this baby was never, ever, going to come out....and I'm not talking irrational labour speak - I knew my body, and I knew what I was feeling (ie. head on hip), and so I insisted that we head to surgery right away.

First though, they gave me that magnesium stuff to stop the contractions and make me shake so, so bad - teeth chattering and all!  Then I had to sign a consent form - ha! I couldn't even hold the pen!  Down the hall I was wheeled in the bed, into the OR where I had to lean over a stinky, smoky German orderly while the epidural was being administered.

This was my first epidural experience - and it was weird!  I felt like my legs were sticking straght up in the air!

The surgery went well - you can ask James, since they let him watch the whole thing - on their side of the curtain!  At one point I remember my blood pressure must have dropped quite low because I started to faint - again the first time for that experience too.  One other surgery note - the doctor gave a play-by-play I think for James' sake, and when he said "Now we're putting back the fat"  I asked if he could NOT do that - to no avail.  And then when he said "Now I'm stitching up the muscles" I asked again if he could do them nice and tight - yet another no.  Bummer.

Anyway, the result of the surgery....Samuel Douglas Thompson...Oct 25.  9lbs, 12 oz (or 4440g  or Fier-Fier-Fier-Null!!! As all the surprised Germans said).  His head was around 40 cm. in diameter - there was no way that head was ever going to pass through my pelvis!! 

Samuel - because we love it.   Douglas - it's my mom's maiden name, and my brother's middle name.