After pushing (and I pushed well, my OB said) for another 45minutes with
Daniel sitting at a -1 station and a fluctuating
heart rate, my OB was telling me he needed to be born safely, and I agreed (especially after seeing my husband's concerned face whenever Daniel's heart rate dipped too low after the contractions).
I was taken to the OR and prepped for surgery. It seemed to take a million years for Ben to come into the room with his paper outfit on.