They say that the second time around is easier than the first; at least that was what I had heard and read about the last few weeks of my pregnancy with baby Kieran.  But you can't always believe everything you hear. But that's all right, because each with pregnancy, each child has his/her own special way of coming into the world.  And when all is said and done, I will always cherish every moment of his journey into our lives, the happy ones as well as the challenging ones.

         It seemed like the last few weeks moved ever so slowly, and although I kept feeling like baby Kieran would be here much earlier than his due date of August 21st, the days just kept going by without any major turn of events. For the last two weeks or so, I had been having irregular contractions, and something in my body just kept telling me it would be "soon."   I was already dilated 2 cm, almost 3, at the last doctor's visit. Then, finally, things started happening on Sunday, August 18th.  The contractions were still irregular and not very long, but they were more prominent and they were getting more uncomfortable as the night hours came. So my mom came to our house to stay while we put Spencer to bed, and we were off to Arnold Palmer, as instructed by our doctor, to get checked and to see where we were at in the early phase of labor.

        You can imagine the feeling of disappointment when we were told that I was still only dilated "barely" 3 cm and that my contractions were very irregular and not very long at all, so I had the option of either walking around the dismal hospital halls for 2 hours or going home and coming back if it got any worse.  So we returned home and the hours passed on by until morning.

       The next day was Monday and, as the clock ticked on, so my contractions continued, still irregularly, but longer and more intense as the afternoon led into the evening.  Manish came home from work, and he and my sister timed my contractions.  Earlier, I was able to continue to do the things I do throughout the day and ride out the contractions, but by 8 o'clock or so, I was clutching the back of Manish's t-shirt as I hugged him, trying to breathe through the pain.  We knew that after we got Spencer to bed, we would give my doctor a call again, go for a brief walk, and head off to Arnold Palmer again while my mom spent the night taking care of Spencer.  I was determined to not be sent home again.

        Of course things don't always happen the way you want.  Manish and I made it to Arnold Palmer that night at about 12:30 A.M. and were seen right away.  At this point, I was feeling even more pain, and was anxious to get settled into the hospital already.  Unfortunately, after I was checked, I was still "only" 3 cm and the nurse noted that I wasn't "huffing and puffing" in pain yet, so I should go home and wait some more.  She gave me some pill that she said would take the edge off the contractions so that I could get some sleep, and to come back again if the contractions were closer time-wise and of longer duration.  As soon as we were walking to the parking lot, I had 3 very intense contractions in a row.  Manish thought it was all in my head, because of what the nurse had just said and because I was so upset.  But that wasn't the case at all.

        In reality, I should have been admitted at that point in the night.  I truly was in labor.  But Arnold Palmer does not have to admit me until I'm 4 cm, so I understood that, but it still didn't help me get through those contractions on the way home.  We went to bed, and, for the next two and half hours, I squirmed in pain through contraction after painful contraction, each one getting worse, getting closer together in time, and trying not to scream so as not to wake up Spencer or my mom.  I resorted to screaming into my pillow after a while, and I kept quietly yelling at Manish, who was mostly asleep, that the medicine wasn't working at all.  I finally had to shake him awake and told him that he "had to" call our doctor and tell her that I "had to" go to the hospital, that something "had to" be done because I just couldn't take it anymore.  The pain was unbearable.  She told us that she would go ahead and call the hospital and tell them to admit me anyway. 

        Off we went to Arnold Palmer again, this time feeling better in terms of knowing that we weren't going to be sent home again.  It felt like a long ride with every turn and change of lane, but we finally arrived and Manish signed in for me this time.  I was in so much pain, I could hardly stand up anymore.  I was seen right away again by the same nurse, and apparently she had not heard from my doctor yet.  She told us that I was still 3 cm and that she would call my doctor to see what she said, but I quickly told her, "No, no, no!" and continued to tell her about how our doctor informed us that she would call the hospital and have me admitted.  She seemed surprised, but I didn't care anymore.  It felt like hours as we waited for her to come back while they got my room ready, but they finally sat me in the wheelchair and I was off to the Labor and Delivery area of the hospital.

        Wouldn't you know it, but by the time we got into our room, I was already dilated 4 cm. It was almost 5:00 A.M. and our nurse, Jane, was there to take care of us.  She was just the sweetest thing.  She was so happy, encouraging, and positive that early in the morning.  I was in so much pain, but her attitude made such a difference, and I was feeling more hopeful about the fact that baby Kieran would be here soon.  Before we knew it, the anesthesiologist was in the room, putting in my epidural and it started working right away.  At 5:31 A.M., my doctor broke my water, and they monitored me to see if I needed pitocin to regulate my contractions or not, depending on how the labor was progressing.

        The epidural worked wonders, especially since we hadn't slept all night, so we got some time to take a nap, while our nurse was in and out.  I remember there being some concern about the baby's heartbeat slowing down after every contraction, and that my blood pressure was low.  They tried a few different things to get it up higher again, and put a monitor on baby Kieran's head to get a more accurate heart rate from him.  I didn't need any pitocin, as my contractions were doing a good enough job of moving things along.  Then, at 9:50 A.M., I was told that I could start pushing Kieran out.  A wave of anxiety and fear came over me, and it felt so much more alarming because I had been so relaxed with the epidural.  But I reminded myself that I had done this before, and that although this time the contractions were worse, I know how to push.  "It will be O.K."

        I think if I could've sat up just a little bit more, I may have had an easier time of pushing.  But I did what I had to do.  I remember pushing so very hard, just thinking about getting him "out here" already, in my arms, close to my heart.  I was straining, and I was so scared that maybe I couldn't do it, but Manish was at my side, encouraging me, and then, at 10:16 A.M., Kieran was born into our world.  He was so very long and crying, and all I could feel was this relief that he was here now, with us, and not in my belly anymore.

        I was told that the umbilical cord was very long, wrapped around him twice, and that he was holding on to it, too.  They put him on my chest right away, and it was such a wonderful feeling to hold him, to touch him on the outside, to see what he looks like and hear him crying.  He quickly calmed down in my arms, until he was taken away again to be cleaned, weighed, and measured.  When they gave him back to me, I was shaky from emotions, but also from my blood pressure falling, and some fever as well.  But that didn't matter.  I knew that would be taken care of.  The only thing that mattered was that Kieran was finally here, and that he was healthy and full of life.

        Even though I had different expectations of what this second pregnancy would be like, all the obstacles we dealt with along the way just helped to remind me of how blessed we are to have another sweet baby come into our lives, into our world, into our hearts.  I could have never imagined in my whole life, before becoming a mother, of how much love I have inside my heart, of how much patience and compassion I'm capable of, and of how much sacrifice I would be ready and willing to make for my children.  I had wondered before Kieran was born how I would feel, since the love for each child is different, and all I knew of was my love for Spencer.  Now that I have both of my boys here with me, I understand. 

        For each child, there is a special love to be given to them, that fits mother and child together in a special bond.  What a strong bond, that of mother and child.  I remember my first night in the hospital with Spencer, while Manish slept; Spencer and I stared at each other for hours after he was born.  In between those hours, of course, he would sleep again, eat again, and burp again, but there was about a 2 hour block of time that he just looked at me and slept for a little while only. Without words, we bonded in a way that I will never forget, in a way that I am still reminded of every night that I put him to bed. 

        In the same way, yet differently, I bonded with Kieran while Manish was at home that night with Spencer.  The hours passed, and we spent much of it staring, sleeping, feeling the warmth of each other in a new way.  Words can never convey the joy I felt in my heart our first night in the outside world together, but I know that Kieran felt a new love from me, one that is especially for him, and always will be, as he grows and changes in the years to come...