Meet Dean Oliver Doose

Dean's due date was July 22. I was HUGELY pregnant by May, haha. We all just knew I would go into labor early because of my size. All of July I ate mexican food and walked everywhere. I took the stairs up to my office everymorning all 4 flights and walked the mall at lunch time. Dean was happy right where he was...eating steak salads and mexican food. Living the life I tell ya. I should have known that since the stress of my dad's funeral didn't put me into labor...nothing would. I went in for my final appointment on Wednesday the 21st. Nothing, no progress, no real contractions. Dr. S gave us two options 1) go to the hospital that evening and start to induce (enter me...pleeding/begging to go) 2) wait until monday if nothing had happened then, go to hospital to induce. I immediately said, we can go in tonight, the bag is packed there is nothing more we can do to prepare. Then pan over to Scott. The look in his eyes, the "i could actually become a father today, but I thought we had more time" fearish look. He said, I think we should wait. (I can't really blame him) Dr. S agreed that we should try to let nature do what she could and that my chances of having a C-section were incredibly higher if we went in that day as opposed to the following monday. So, we waited. Nothing happened. We checked into St. Vincent on Monday evening, July 26th. My mom had come up that day to hang out and go with us to wait. I am so lucky she was there. They started the meds...


I had the nicest evening nurse. She was so sweet. She gave me a sort of last call for food around 11:30, thank goodness I listened to her, b/c it would be a while before I got to eat again.





The next day nothing had happened, nature-aided by medical science- was not taking its course. Enter in Evil nurse. I can't remember her name, kind of like when something really really bad happens to a person and the block out the experience totally...I like to think that's what happened. Well Evil nurse's job was the pitocin. She was supposed to up the levels all day until she reached "x" amount. Well hour after hour the pitocin wasn't really causing any contractions and the ones that did happen weren't painful. No progress. Evil nurse came in a little later and said that she had called for approval to up the maximum doseage. That's when I got grumpy. I hadn't eaten...and now I was in PAIN. After around 14 hours of pitocin I was not progressed at all but in obsene amounts of pain. Which I thought - whats the use in this? I begged for the epidural. Got it. I'm pretty sure there aren't too many ladies who can claim that they got an epidural at a "1" hehe. Lucky me. Then I got a little fiesty with the nurse (the evil one) I assured her that I wasn't like those other moms and that a c-section was fine with me and that the pitocin was clearly not working so whats the point of putting me through this. Whatever it takes. She decided she was boss and that I was not going to have a c-section on her watch. Not if she could help it. I begged her to call the dr. I asked when he was available. I am partially convinced that she did not call him when I asked. but oh well. Finally around 3pm Dr. S arrives. He determines that its pointless to keep the pitocin drip on (hallelujah) and that things just weren't happening. Scheduled the C-section for 5pm. I was going to finally meet Dean!





The C-section was a blur. It seemed so slow going and yet so fast. They administered a bit too much of the epidural meds and it had creeped into my arms...I couldn't feel a thing all the way to my neck. But somehow (God is good) I was able to feel scott steadily squeezing my hand. Dean was born, Dr. S quickly yelled "whew, he is a toddler" and we finally heard that sweet cry. I had a son. It was the best feeling in the world....the only feeling I had at that point since I was numb from the neck down. 8 pounds, 14 ounces and 21.25 inches long...he looks just like me. And I couldn't love anything more.