Author’s note: This is the ninth of a ten-part series recapping and examining the birth story of my Itty Bitty. Birth is a beautiful experience, but some can find the contents of the topic a bit squeemish. In light of this, please note that these posts are neither too graphic, nor are they full of unicorns and rainbows. They’re just the unfettered, unadulterated truth. And the truth is that birth is the most amazing experience of which I have been a part. By far. So, read on – learn, cry, laugh, but most of all, enjoy.

I had hit a wall, and had used all of my energy and focus during the day working on spinning my baby from posterior position to anterior position. After 21 hours of labor, my tiny baby was finally in the proper position for birth. I was 8cm dilated, and utterly and completely exhausted.

It was then, at 6pm, that I finally started to cry.
I cried because I was afraid. Afraid that I had used all of my strength, every single ounce of strength, to muscle through turning an 8 pound baby around in my belly. I was afraid that if I muscled through the last stage of labor, that I wouldn’t have anything left to push him out. I was afraid that after all I did, that I would still need forceps, a vacuum, or a c section because I was too tired.
My body was uncontrollably shaking, I couldn’t stand up. I knew I needed to nap.
I asked the doctors and nurses to leave the room for a minute, and spoke with my doula and my Hubby. Together, we decided that I would get an epidural for a few hours. 
Getting the epidural was incredibly easy, especially compared to what I had endured all day long. If you ever need to get one, just don’t look at it. You will feel pressure, and then numbness. Once the medication set in, I immediately became calm.  The doctors and nurses bid me farewell, and said that they would see me in a few hours. They figured I would most likely give birth around 1 or 2 in the morning.
I ate a cracker, and laughed with my husband.
I ate another cracker, and then all of my machines started beeping. Nurses and doctors ran in. My heartbeat had fallen, and an oxygen mask was quickly thrown on my face. They couldn’t find my tiny baby’s heartbeat.
Hubby started crying.
Fear flooded my mind. What was happening?
Then, a moment later, my doctor found the source of the chaos.
My tiny baby’s head had made its way out, all by itself. 
I never got my nap after all, and now I needed to push, because Itty Bitty was making his way out into the world, with, or without my help.

This is the ninth of a ten-part series recapping and examining the birth story of my Itty Bitty.