I love birth stories. I always make an effort within a week or so after having the baby, to write mine with as much detail as possible so that I won’t forget it. I’m getting to this one four days away from his first birthday. Oops. 😉 Better late than never, I reckon:
After several days of contracting, but not really getting anywhere, I took the kids to a plantation to walk around in the beautiful gardens. I thought it would be a great thing for them to get out of the house, and for me to get some fresh air – perhaps distracting me a little about giving birth. It sounds serene and all that, but the reality was that it was the middle of August. In the South. We traipsed pretty far into one of the trails and admired much beauty, when we decided that maybe it was time to consult the map and head out. I was contracting a little harder (success!) and the girls were growing unhappy in the heat. Then, Jake saw a huge snake right above our heads and that’s when the jig was surely up.
We followed the map exactly the way it read, but it seemed that we were turning gigantic circles. We found others on the path and asked them if they knew the way out, and that’s when they informed us (with a look of great concern for my burgeoning belly) that they, too, were having trouble leaving the
hellish nightmare of a maze trail. About that time, I had one of the strongest contractions yet, so that’s when Ty chucked the map, sniffed the air, and tapped into his deeply ingrained scout skillz. He did his thing and blazed our OWN way out. I’m pretty sure that the only thing worse than staying in the maze to him at this point, was his mother giving birth in a situation where he’d be anywhere in the vicinity…ha!
After finally getting back to the vehicle, and then home, I came right in and piled up on my bed with some red raspberry leaf tea, and the remote to (hopefully!) contract in peace. Contract, I did, too. All night long. While they were enough to keep me awake, they weren’t consistent enough to go to the hospital. I finally fell asleep around 6 a.m., so Mark called in to work to say that he’d not be at the office that day. When I finally woke up a few hours later, my contractions had completely stopped. I wanted to keep a good headspace because I knew that he’d come in God’s perfect timing, but it was really hard at this point. I pretty much shut myself in my room to rest and be quiet (for everyone’s sake).
Around 4:00 p.m., those contractions started up again, but I didn’t tell anyone. Mark was going to take the boys to soccer practice which is about a half hour away, but was hesitant to leave. As it turns out, even though I had my poker face on, the guy I’ve been married to for over two decades saw straight through it. Go figure. I told him to absolutely go because I was “tired of all the drama”… ha! I love the rationale of a woman in the last stages of pregnancy. 😀
He left, and I contracted the whole time, but I refused to time them. Around 8 p.m., I finally threw in the towel and called Mark to see if he’d be home soon. He had just walked in the door when I had a pretty big contraction. I got some more red raspberry leaf tea (because that stuff really does help my contractions) and went back to bed. I was done “trying” with walking or moving at all. My thought was that if labor was really going to happen, it will come whether I’m exhausting myself or resting. Somewhere around 10 p.m., I got on all fours to relieve the pressure on my back, and I felt the baby shift completely. I do not know what happened, but he *really* flopped. As soon as I stood up, those contractions meant serious business. Mark was in the shower, and I walked in gingerly, and said “I’d give anything if my water would just break”.
Then it did. I’d literally no sooner completed that sentence when it popped! HALLELUJAH!!
I showered while Mark gathered our stuff and got everyone completely settled. Then off to the hospital we went. It was about 11-11:30 at this point, and right in front of us, there was an obviously drunk driver. He was weaving over a double lane road and going off it like crazy. I called the police while Mark concentrated on driving and avoiding him, because there was no safe way to pass him. He finally turned off of the road and the ride was uneventful after that.
I was hurting pretty badly by the time we arrived and got checked in. They hooked me up to my IV (which I had a hard time sitting through because of the contractions) and started me on antibiotics. Within minutes my whole body felt like it had been covered in itching powder. I was scratching but it only made it itchier. It was determined that I’m allergic to the antibiotic that they gave me, which was already an alternative to penicillan because I’m allergic to that as well. What a great time to figure that out. 🙂
They came in to give me my epidural and the woman could NOT get it right and had to stick me more than once. All I could think at that time, was that I wish I wasn’t such a wuss and so scared of the pain because these epidurals are way more trouble than they’re worth to me. I always, always cave and get them, though. Anyway, she finally placed it to her satisfaction, and I just knew that I was in for another round of natural birth on my left side (did it with Isa, too). Sure enough, when it came time to push, I felt absolutely everything on that side. The pain was horrible and as he was crowning, I looked at the doctor and said “that stupid epidural didn’t work at all” and then I did my quiet scream. It’s knee-slapping hilarious to me now (truly laughing so hard right now, remembering…) but it wasn’t the least bit funny then.
He was perfect in every way and we rejoiced at God’s amazing blessing to our family once again.
I always stare at my babies for hours at a time after they’re born, just taking in every minute detail of the gift that we waited for for 9 months. There is truly nothing sweeter in this world. ❤