Just like with Xander, I spent a month in prodromal labor with pretty severe HG symptoms controlling my life. On two different occasions we shipped the older two kids off with friends so we could head to the hospital, only to have contractions disappear as soon as the kids were gone. On Tuesday Aug 1st, Chou called my doctor and begged them to put me out of my misery, as I was contracting but getting nowhere and no longer able to eat or drink. They sent us to the hospital (so, again, we dropped off Xander. E was on vacation with my parents) who was not so compliant, but eventually gave me 2 bags of fluid, some Zofran, and sent me on my way. On Thursday, the midwife sent me back to labor and delivery due to a high fetal heart rate. While on the monitors for hours, baby's heart rate stayed around 170 with very occasional dips down to the 130s. After this pattern continued, the OB was fairly certain that the high readings were simply accelerations caused by excessive movement, and that 130 was the actual baseline heart rate, and she once again sent us on our way with instructions to come into the office again by Monday. Friday night around midnight I felt a few contractions, but nothing more than I had been feeling for a month. Around 2am I decided that we should probably make sure we could get ahold of friends to take Xander just in case things progressed. At 2:30 we packed the car, dropped Xander off, and headed to the hospital. We think we arrived around 3:15am. We parked and took a good 10 minutes to walk 3 steps, contract, walk 3 more steps, etc. etc. and eventually make it to the door. Chou checked us in and I headed to the restroom to sit and work through some more contractions for another 10 minutes. By the time I came out, they asked me if I wanted a wheel chair, and I gladly accepted their offer. They wheeled me back to a room (no triage this time, praise Jesus!) and gave me a gown and motioned to the attached bathroom for me to change. I decided that right where I was, still sitting in the wheel chair was good enough, and Chou and the nurse helped me put on the hospital gown and then hop over to the bed where they hooked up the monitor. I was getting uncomfortable and mentioned I that an epidural sounded like a great idea, and the nurse said, "well, let's make sure they're going to keep you first" before she left the room. Chou applied pressure for the next contraction or two, and I told him I felt like we needed people in the room, like we shouldn't be alone. He asked if I needed to push, and I said not yet. The doctor came back with the nurse and checked me. I was 9cm, he felt it was too late for an epidural, and the baby was still too high to break my water. I was fine without the epidural knowing I was at 9cm already and clearly not still in prodromal labor, but bummed he couldn't break my water. I generally get stuck at 9.5cm until they break my water. With E I stayed there for 6 hours before they broke it! Regardless, Chou applied pressure with the next contraction, and the OB took a few large steps back, informing Chou he was about to be showered with the water breaking. Sure enough, the next contraction broke my water at 3:42am, mere minutes after we made it back to the room. The nurse declared she was giving up trying to get an IV in my arm. I pushed with the next contraction and everyone in the room yelled at me to "STOP PUSHING!!!" The baby's head was out revealing the cord tightly wrapped around his little neck. The doctor clamped the cord, cut it, and then I pushed his body the rest of the way out at 3:44am. I asked if it was a boy or girl, and the oh-so-helpful doctor replied that he had no idea. Chou checked and announced it was a boy! Baby was incredibly blue and bruised from his quick entrance and unfortunate cord placement, so I kept picking him up off my chest to make him cry just to make sure he was breathing.
He was born so fast he didn't expel any amniotic fluid, so he spent the first 12-13 hours refusing to suck or eat until he eventually spit up enough to make room in his small tummy. The nurses and pediatrician reassured us it was no big deal, so we just held him while he slept his first day of life away. He was born nameless (seems to be a trend) but we eventually settled on Oscar (meaning God's spear) Quincy (just cuz we like it, nod to John Quincy Adams). He goes by Oscar, Oscar Quinn, or just Quinn.
Oscar weighed 8 pounds even at birth and was 21 inches with a head circumference of 14cm.