© Procrastinator, Inc.
Luke Kenneth Foster joined us 12 April at 3:44pm! Six pounds, twelve ounces and nineteen inches long.
Long and lean just like his...Dad?
It was like you read about. For those of you haven't experienced it, the
cliches are cliche for a reason. For those of you who have, you know how great
we're feeling right now. Both mother and son are exceptionally healthy, and both
of them seem to know what to do to survive.
Labor is an understated term for what it takes to bring a being into the world.
Libby's labor started sincerely at midnight on the 12th. The doctor sent us
home saying, "Come back when the contractions really hurt." Of course, as soon
as we got home, they really hurt.
From about 1am until 3am, I took sixteen five-minute naps--between Libby's screams. In those two hours dilation
went from one centimeter to six centimeters. We were in business, and
the hospital let us stay. About two hours later, she was at eight
centimeters. Progress was exceptional.
Unfortunately, the doctor broke her water shortly thereafter. That seemed to cause Libby a
lot more pain, and, maybe because of the pain or maybe because we disrupted
nature's course, labor stalled. Four hours later she was still at eight
The pain of the contractions without the cushion of the water wore her
out. She had managed the pain exceptionally through breath control up to this
point, but fatigue set in. The uncertainty of how much longer the labor would
last caused her to opt for the epidural anasthesia.
Eureka! She was feeling much better with drugs :-) Labor was still stalling
after an hour or so, and the doctor introduced contraction-inducing petocin. It
was tricky setting up the dose to time the contractions. Looking back, I don't
think either of us would have opted to force the labor by breaking the water so
early, then getting the epidural, which caused the need for petocin.
Hindsight is 20/20, and while there were some (typically, I imagine) scary
moments. Luke came out with barely more than a peep. He was wide-eyed and
looking around. Libby immediately sat back to have a look at the boy. When she
did, the umbilical cord went taut causing a quick reprimand from the doctors. I
made the cut, and went after the little miracle.
Luke was exceptionally aware and active. He made me laugh and cry for ten
minutes straight. He was so calm it was shocking. He has remained that way thus
far. He didn't have a real cry for the first three days. He still mostly squawks
and fusses if his needs aren't met, but he is truly perfection.
From my perspective, the miracle of birth is that a newborn is a perfect
being. They have "accomplished" nothing, and yet, they are love. They are
perfection. It's a great reminder for someone very close to me who occasionally
thinks his value is determined by his accomplishments. (That person would be me
for those who don't recognize my sarcasm.)
I'm sure I could write for days and not convey exactly any of the emotions we
experienced so I will leave you with that.