It will be a long one. Or, rather, a short one..
I accomplished two things I never thought I would get a chance to accomplish, in my life, in regards to childbirth.
1. An IV free birth.
2. To give birth with my own clothes on. Not a scratchy hospital gown.
Also, let me premise this by saying it was not my intention to scare all the nurses in the hospital or make my husband break out in hives with all the traffic violations he committed.
Everything
started on the 13th. I had mild contractions off and on all day
Sunday. Nothing ever amounted to anything time-able nor were they
intense in any way. On Tuesday, when I went to the doctor, she
commented on how hard my stomach was. I told her I had been having
contractions off and on but, again, nothing time-able. Tuesday's
contractions were more intense than Sunday but nothing that phased me.
Thursday morning rolled around and I thought maybe, just maybe, it will
be D-day. They were more intense, not long, and with more regularity. A
friend asked to take the kids so I could get a pedi so we just
continued on as normal. I picked the kids up from the park and we went
out to lunch. Eric was asking how far apart and how long and I honestly
hadn't timed them or figured out how far apart they were. The kids and I sat down
to eat at 1:30 and I set my phone next to me so I could figure out how
far apart they were and how long they were lasting. They were 3 minutes
apart and 30-45 seconds long. No big deal. I decided not to finish
all my lunch because I had a naked buffalo burger and that didn't sound
like it would be delicious coming back up. I called Eric after we ate
and told him what was going on. I said I was going to take the kids on
the trails and that he might want to start thinking about wrapping it
up. This was around 2:30. I told him I would call him back when we
were done walking/riding our bikes (the kids) and off we went. We got
back in the van around 4 and the second I sat down they stopped. Not
entirely but I would have 1 contraction maybe every 10-20 minutes. Eric
asked me what he needed to do and I said I think it was a false alarm,
just don't be late coming home. The kids and I played outside until
Daddy got home and the whole time we were out there it was practically
nothing. Going back inside I settled down on the couch. I was sooooo
disappointed AND exhausted from being on the go all day with
contractions. Daddy was put on supper duty and I had some scrambled
eggs and pretzels just in case things picked back up.
Around 6:00 I started getting them back again, every 3-5 minutes. For the next 2.5 hours they weren't very consistent and now lasting barely 30 seconds. After we got the kids to bed, we sat back down on the couch again. And they stopped AGAIN. I was debating just going to bed or taking a walk. Figuring I would either sleep some and labor would take care of itself or I could try walking and seeing if I could get it started again. Instead I cleaned my wax pot. The contractions definitely got more intense and Eric was insisting they were a minute apart. In reality, they were 2 minutes apart lasting 30-45 seconds. This was around 9:00. Eric was starting to be more insistent about going to the hospital. I was insistent they still weren't long enough. I didn't want to go in there, be only dilated to a 4/5 and confined to the blasted bed. I knew I was GBS+ so they would want the IV in and they would want to monitor the baby for a bit. I appeased him by saying I would call my mom, I was going to take a shower and then we could talk about going. I called her at 10 and, while talking, she said you need to go. She said she was going to gather up her things and come over. I said that would be fine but I was still going to take a shower and not leave right away. We hung up and the contractions were becoming super intense. I was starting to feel some pressure and I said to Eric we need to call her back and tell her to hurry. I'm not showering. So we called her and she had just left...but was hurrying :) Eric offered to call his dad and I said that might be a good idea. I also had Eric call the Birth Center and tell them we where on our way. They insisted we call the on-call doctor first. I told him to tell her we were coming. End of story. We got in the van and pulled out of the driveway as Eric's dad pulled in. We literally rolled down the window and said "Gotta go." as we rolled on by. I had just finished a contraction and told Eric to floor it because everyone knows your contractions instantly become horrendous in the car. I was also quickly losing control over my pain. He took off and ran the stop sign at the end of our road. I started contracting again by McDonalds and informed him he better just run the red light at 7/11. He told me cars were coming. There light turned red. Ours turned green. Thank you Jesus. Off we went and Eric was firmly told to blow the next light. I said he better not even slow down. He didn't. And was convinced the person coming towards him was a cop. I said I didn't care. As we pulled into the turn lane for the hospital my mom passed us, going to our house. We pulled into the ER at 10:30 and I was telling Eric I had to push. He said you better not. With some intense breathing and serious concentration I made it through. I told him that they were going to try to stop us at the ER and register us and place me in a wheel chair. I told him to get his walking shoes on because I was going straight past. I said to the security guard as we walked by "I'm going straight up." and kept on going. Eric slowed down to talk and I said you better come push the elevator button or we are having a baby in the lobby. Inside the elevator another contraction hit me hard and I kept telling Eric I had to push. I'm pretty sure he grew half a head of gray hair during this... On the third floor, I said to the nurse, we need a room. NOW. Inside the room, I started pacing. Turns out it was the poor unit clerk to whom I was speaking and not a nurse. The nurse came in a minute later and said "Have you ever had a NST? Here put this sock on so we can monitor your contractions." I said "No and I have to push." She said "No you don't. Breathe through it and put the sock on." I get the sock on and climb into bed. And I literally had to start pushing. She checks me and says "You are an 8/9, you can't push yet because you aren't fully dilated." I said "Well I'm pushing." I literally started pushing right then and there. The doc comes over the intercom, the nurse is yelling "She's a 9 and she's pushing, you better get in here!" Turns out she was delivering a lady next door, a poor first time mom, and the doc had to run out of the room. My water broke with my first or second push, before the doc got in. It was not clear so I was slightly panicky about it but was quickly informed it was "only slightly meconium stained." I leave it alone and continue pushing. At this point, the nurse who was telling me not to push and tried to get me to do an NST, came back in the room and said 'I'm leaving, it's the end of my shift. See you tomorrow night." Good riddance. The doc comes in as the baby was crowning. She said on the next push I want you to push his head out. That was one big head.
At 10:43 (13 minutes after arriving in the ER) I had to push his body out-also a first for me, I've never had to push the body out before. The nurse told me later it was because he never turned. And the fact that his chest was the same size as his head. They laid him on my chest and the doc said something about "him" and I was like "what?! it's a boy?!" And I had to lift his little leg to check. Sure enough. He looked big, but not as big as I thought, because he was so long.
The doc stood up for a second while we waited for the placenta and said "Hi! I'm Dr. DeWitt. What's your name?" We all laughed. After everything was birthed she wanted to place one stitch and wanted to know if I wanted numbing meds or not. I was hemming and hawing and she said "You need to decide because the lady next door has her placenta just hanging out." Oh. OK. Just put it in. Then I asked Dr. DeWitt if I could leave. Everyone started talking, at once, about the fact that I was GBS+ and there was no way a Ped was going to let him go before 24 hours and they needed blood work on him blah, blah, blah. They said I would probably have to stay until Saturday morning. My sweet nurse, who was left with clean up on aisle 4 ev.every.where. AND still had to admit me, was amazing. She didn't take him away from me for a second, except for when I asked what he weighed and how long he was, before I nursed him. She put him on the scale and Eric was like "Ooohh you were right. He's huge. 9lb1oz." Mini moose.
She measured him and had to drop the end of his little bed because once she stretched his legs out they were over the edge. I nursed him for over an hour and he ate like the 9lb champ he is. His initial blood work came back fine and now we just had to wait for the 24 hour culture to come back and we could leave. He started eating every 3 hours at 10am and hasn't looked back {yet}. Saturday morning dawned bright and beautiful with normal bloodwork and we sprung that joint.
Around 6:00 I started getting them back again, every 3-5 minutes. For the next 2.5 hours they weren't very consistent and now lasting barely 30 seconds. After we got the kids to bed, we sat back down on the couch again. And they stopped AGAIN. I was debating just going to bed or taking a walk. Figuring I would either sleep some and labor would take care of itself or I could try walking and seeing if I could get it started again. Instead I cleaned my wax pot. The contractions definitely got more intense and Eric was insisting they were a minute apart. In reality, they were 2 minutes apart lasting 30-45 seconds. This was around 9:00. Eric was starting to be more insistent about going to the hospital. I was insistent they still weren't long enough. I didn't want to go in there, be only dilated to a 4/5 and confined to the blasted bed. I knew I was GBS+ so they would want the IV in and they would want to monitor the baby for a bit. I appeased him by saying I would call my mom, I was going to take a shower and then we could talk about going. I called her at 10 and, while talking, she said you need to go. She said she was going to gather up her things and come over. I said that would be fine but I was still going to take a shower and not leave right away. We hung up and the contractions were becoming super intense. I was starting to feel some pressure and I said to Eric we need to call her back and tell her to hurry. I'm not showering. So we called her and she had just left...but was hurrying :) Eric offered to call his dad and I said that might be a good idea. I also had Eric call the Birth Center and tell them we where on our way. They insisted we call the on-call doctor first. I told him to tell her we were coming. End of story. We got in the van and pulled out of the driveway as Eric's dad pulled in. We literally rolled down the window and said "Gotta go." as we rolled on by. I had just finished a contraction and told Eric to floor it because everyone knows your contractions instantly become horrendous in the car. I was also quickly losing control over my pain. He took off and ran the stop sign at the end of our road. I started contracting again by McDonalds and informed him he better just run the red light at 7/11. He told me cars were coming. There light turned red. Ours turned green. Thank you Jesus. Off we went and Eric was firmly told to blow the next light. I said he better not even slow down. He didn't. And was convinced the person coming towards him was a cop. I said I didn't care. As we pulled into the turn lane for the hospital my mom passed us, going to our house. We pulled into the ER at 10:30 and I was telling Eric I had to push. He said you better not. With some intense breathing and serious concentration I made it through. I told him that they were going to try to stop us at the ER and register us and place me in a wheel chair. I told him to get his walking shoes on because I was going straight past. I said to the security guard as we walked by "I'm going straight up." and kept on going. Eric slowed down to talk and I said you better come push the elevator button or we are having a baby in the lobby. Inside the elevator another contraction hit me hard and I kept telling Eric I had to push. I'm pretty sure he grew half a head of gray hair during this... On the third floor, I said to the nurse, we need a room. NOW. Inside the room, I started pacing. Turns out it was the poor unit clerk to whom I was speaking and not a nurse. The nurse came in a minute later and said "Have you ever had a NST? Here put this sock on so we can monitor your contractions." I said "No and I have to push." She said "No you don't. Breathe through it and put the sock on." I get the sock on and climb into bed. And I literally had to start pushing. She checks me and says "You are an 8/9, you can't push yet because you aren't fully dilated." I said "Well I'm pushing." I literally started pushing right then and there. The doc comes over the intercom, the nurse is yelling "She's a 9 and she's pushing, you better get in here!" Turns out she was delivering a lady next door, a poor first time mom, and the doc had to run out of the room. My water broke with my first or second push, before the doc got in. It was not clear so I was slightly panicky about it but was quickly informed it was "only slightly meconium stained." I leave it alone and continue pushing. At this point, the nurse who was telling me not to push and tried to get me to do an NST, came back in the room and said 'I'm leaving, it's the end of my shift. See you tomorrow night." Good riddance. The doc comes in as the baby was crowning. She said on the next push I want you to push his head out. That was one big head.
At 10:43 (13 minutes after arriving in the ER) I had to push his body out-also a first for me, I've never had to push the body out before. The nurse told me later it was because he never turned. And the fact that his chest was the same size as his head. They laid him on my chest and the doc said something about "him" and I was like "what?! it's a boy?!" And I had to lift his little leg to check. Sure enough. He looked big, but not as big as I thought, because he was so long.
The doc stood up for a second while we waited for the placenta and said "Hi! I'm Dr. DeWitt. What's your name?" We all laughed. After everything was birthed she wanted to place one stitch and wanted to know if I wanted numbing meds or not. I was hemming and hawing and she said "You need to decide because the lady next door has her placenta just hanging out." Oh. OK. Just put it in. Then I asked Dr. DeWitt if I could leave. Everyone started talking, at once, about the fact that I was GBS+ and there was no way a Ped was going to let him go before 24 hours and they needed blood work on him blah, blah, blah. They said I would probably have to stay until Saturday morning. My sweet nurse, who was left with clean up on aisle 4 ev.every.where. AND still had to admit me, was amazing. She didn't take him away from me for a second, except for when I asked what he weighed and how long he was, before I nursed him. She put him on the scale and Eric was like "Ooohh you were right. He's huge. 9lb1oz." Mini moose.
She measured him and had to drop the end of his little bed because once she stretched his legs out they were over the edge. I nursed him for over an hour and he ate like the 9lb champ he is. His initial blood work came back fine and now we just had to wait for the 24 hour culture to come back and we could leave. He started eating every 3 hours at 10am and hasn't looked back {yet}. Saturday morning dawned bright and beautiful with normal bloodwork and we sprung that joint.
We
literally have 4 cell phone pictures from his actual birth because
we had left everything in the van when we stopped at the ER.
The first picture I texted my Mom and sister. He looks gigantic.
His debut picture. Again, with the cell phones...
^^Final picture we have of his birth.
We busted out the big camera when the big kids came to the hospital. They were soooooo excited to meet their new baby brother. Joelle was the most uncontainable excited. She was so mad when she had to give him up and I'm pretty sure my mom held him for precisely 2 minutes while she was at the hospital.
They are in love.
Sweet baby kisses.
Priceless.
B is super excited for his baby Lincoln.
Adelyn's second turn with him. She sat here forever and did not want to give him up.
Momma and her sweet baby boy.
Seriously, lady. Stop with the pictures.
Obligatory car seat picture. He actually didn't hate it.
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