The night was progressing just fine, Anthony ordered a 16 ounce rib-eye, which stunned me since he never orders massive meals like that. I ordered stuffed banana peppers, a Buffalo staple. Well our food came and went, I commented on the unusual level of spice on the banana peppers and we ended the evening with a walk along the river across the street. 

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When we got home I started packing the nurses gifts as I planned earlier in the day, it was a task that was on my to-do list for quite sometime now. 

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Within minutes my water broke. Anthony and I were both very calm. I called the doctor and she instructed me to go into the hospital. Of course, I waited as long as I could to go...which was an extra two hours. I took a shower (which was pointless because my water kept leaking), applied some makeup and got into some comfy clothes. 

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Covid was still happening so Anthony was the only additional person allowed in the room, and although we were supposed to wear masks throughout the entire time, our nurses were kind enough to let me remove mine for comfort. 

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We checked into triage around 9PM and were informed there were not available delivery rooms yet. It was a full moon - so I was not surprised. My mother worked at the hospital when she was alive and always said full moons were the busiest nights. Odd, but if you ask a nurse or doctor, I'm sure they'll agree. 

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Eventually we moved into a room around 11PM, and we were getting comfortable. I wasn't experiencing any contractions at this time. Around 2PM the doctor came in and encouraged me to start pitocin to "get the show on the road". I argued against it, wanting God's plan to happen naturally. After a while I started small contractions on my own. They monitored it for a while, but were insisting on the pitocin. We finally compromised and agreed that if I didn't dilate anymore than I already was (3 CM) by 4:00AM we would start pitocin. 

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4:00AM came quickly and there was no extraordinary progress in my labor so I caved and started the pitocin. Immediately my contraction became stronger. Four hours later a midwife came in to discuss my progress (or lack-there-of). I was only about 4/5 CM dilated. She suggested I take a break from the Pitocin to relax a while, maybe take a nap (yeah right!). Well... they cut back my dosage, I was able to let my body relax a few minutes and then BOOM.

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I screamed to the nurse that I needed to push. She chuckled and said something like "oh no, you're not ready yet. We just checked you". Then I screamed again and said " I'm pushing it's time!". She took one look from afar and basically begged me to hold him in while she called for the doctor. 

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Immediately what felt like an orchestra started playing. Operating lights when on, the surgical table and utensils were brought in and the doctor came running. 

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Anthony was able to hold my leg and assist. I pushed maybe 5 or 6 times and baby boy was here! The way I initially described the feeling was a "bag of bones leaving my body". I couldn't decipher between the head, arms and legs. It just felt like a santa sack of ridged bones leaving me.

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I was in physical shock. I didn't have that romantic moment when baby laid on my chest for the first time. I couldn't hear baby's crying, I couldn't decipher what was happening before my eyes. They laid him on my chest and I just kept thinking "why, why did God choose to do it this way?".

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It took about three hours for me to "get with it" and realize the new love of my life was right in my arms! During this time, Anthony and I discussed our naming options since we had "waited to see his face". Santino's name means little saint in Italian and it was a favorite of mine since before we new our gender.

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The running joke of our experience is that Anthony was grateful for that 16oz ribeye before an overnight in the hospital, and the spicy banana peppers induced my labor! In the end, Santino was born at 9:15AM on May 13th, weighing 7lbs2oz. I had no epidural and God worked his miracle the way it was intended to be experienced specifically by me and Santino.