The story of Patrick's birth

Patrick Roscoe Williams
March 26, 2009
8lbs 13 oz
21.5 inches

Helen spent the last month of my pregnancy pulling my shirt up and screaming at my belly button, “come out baby brother.” We installed the baby’s car seat and Helen would sit back there and cry “I want the baby there.” Oh, I wanted him there too. I was just waiting for him to make his entrance.

I had been induced with my daughter and was determined to try and wait for nature to take its course this time around. At 37 weeks when my doctor checked my cervix I was already dilated to 2 centimeters. Alright, I thought, this one’s coming soon. 38 weeks came and went with no baby. 39 weeks, no baby. At my 40 week appointment my blood pressure suddenly spiked. My doctor thought my baby was getting pretty big. He asked me to think about induction. I was ready so I agreed and we scheduled an induction for a week later. I thought I wouldn’t really need that appointment…surely I’d go in to labor on my own.

Well, that week went by and it was one of the longest weeks of my life. Every night I sat in my recliner timing contractions that never got serious. Every night I thought it would be my daughter’s last day as an only child. Every night I was disappointed.

Chris woke me up at 5 am on March 26, 2009, the day of my appointment. We were supposed to check in at the hospital by 6 and had to get a move on. I showered and got things ready. Then I cried. I changed my mind. I didn’t want a second child. I was going to miss my Helen. Clearly the hormones were running that morning! We said goodbye to my mother in law and told her to tell Helen that we love her and that we’d come home with her brother soon!

When we got to the hospital we went through all the check in stuff. I got an IV put in and changed in to that fashionable gown they give you. My doctor came in at around 7 and broke my water. We hoped that rupturing the membranes would get my labor going and I wouldn’t have to have pitocin or other labor-enhancing drugs. Chris and I started walking the halls of the hospital. We walked for a couple of hours but I wasn’t really having any contractions…at least none to speak of. At 10 my doctor came back around and suggested starting a small dose of pit. I agreed…I just wanted to get this baby here.

I really wanted to soldier through without an epidural this time. I had an epidural with Helen and I hated it. I don’t like the way they make me feel, I don’t like being numb, I just don’t like it. When my doctor came back at around 1 pm, though, I was still only dilated to 3 cm and thought it was likely to be a long time before my baby made his entrance. The contractions were super strong and I caved in and asked for the epidural.

The anesthesiologist took a while to get there so I didn’t actually get the epi until 2:30 or so. I felt a little better after it was in but was also disappointed that I’d given in. Still, the relief gave me some rest, which was nice. After about an hour I felt a lot of pressure and started getting an incredible urge to push. My nurse didn’t really believe me (I’d been 4 cm when the epi was administered) but I convinced her to check me anyway. She checked and, just as I’d thought, I was 10 cm and the baby was practically crowning! Good thing we checked just then because my doctor was about to go into surgery and wouldn’t have made it if it had been any later!

I pushed for maybe 10 minutes and at 3:57 the most beautiful blonde boy made his way into the world. My hubby and I looked at each other and just knew that the name we’d picked wasn’t going to work out. This was no John, this precious one was Patrick Roscoe. He is named Patrick after my grandma, Patricia, and Roscoe after my grandpa, John Roscoe. We were so thrilled to meet him and think he is a perfect addition to our family! Helen loves him too.