It seems like just yesterday we were announcing the pending arrival of Baby #5 and now here is our birth story!!!
A doctor’s appointment Wednesday October 30th at noon revealed I was 3cm dilated and 500.000000e+0ffaced. The doctor and I joked I would see him tomorrow at the hospital since he was the doctor on call. My dearest husband did not want a Halloween baby and so I hoped to push things along to before midnight or wait until November 1st to have my baby.
As history with our prior babies, I started to have contractions on the way home from my doctor’s appointment ( checking me always gets things stirred up). They were inconsistent and not very intense. My goal was to stay relaxed which was easy to do because strong contractions didn’t start until about 2am. They were stronger, but still inconsistent timing wise. Anywhere from 30 min apart, but as close as 15min apart was how I labored for 24 hours. The following morning, after laboring in the bathtub at home most of the night, we walked outside with the children, talked with neighbors and made sure we had everything ready we needed to drop off our other 4 children and go to the hospital.
At noon on the 31st our entire family was outside chatting away with our neighbors. Things seemed to be slowing down. I thought I may have been able to hold off until midnight. What was another 12 hours.
Around 2 I decided to shower, shave my legs and try to relax a little.
At 2:45 I told my husband I wanted us all to take the kids to their Awana class 3:30.
By 3:00 I called my husband into the bathroom and asked him to pray for us to know what to do. In a span of 15 min everything had changed. I had 2 contractions right on top of each other and the intensity had increased drastically.
We decided to take our children to our friend’s house. Uh Oh, they were all going to the harvest festival at church. I needed to gather costumes. I quickly gathered what I could out of the dress up stuff and then my husband brought up a bag of costumes from the garage. We gathered 4 costumes in the appropriate sizes and shoved them in a bag.
It seemed to take forever to gather what we needed, load up the car and the family.
Contractions were between 7-10 minutes apart when we left our house at around 3:45
By the time we arrived where were dropping off the children contractions were 4 minutes apart. My friend prayed for me while my husband unloaded the necessities for overnight childcare of 4 children under the age of 6 and we left in a hurry.
We still had a good 30 minute drive to the hospital.
We left there around 4:45 and hit traffic…stop and go traffic.
My doula was a mile ahead of us on the freeway. A quick moment between contractions led me to suggest to my husband maybe we get off the freeway.
He did. We hit every red light.
I started to feel pressure.
Praying, genuinely to God to not let me have the baby in the car, begging Him to not take seriously the joking I had posed earlier in my pregnancy about what a great story it would be to have a baby delivered by my husband in the car, I labored uncomfortably, but as relaxed as I could.
How the heck would I get my pants off if I had to have this baby in the car? Logistically I couldn’t image what to do!!
My contractions were prayed through.
“God give me your peace, that surpasses all understand. God keep me calm. God keep me relaxed.”
My husband though frustrated with all the red lights perfectly prayed for me to be calm and peaceful and encouraged me to remember to relax my body. He was everything I needed in a support person.
Contractions were right on top of each other when I heard my husband say, “Look honey, I can see the hospital. Just 5 more minutes.”
It seemed like too long to wait.
As my husband pulled into the parking garage I thought I was going to cry. I could barely talk, but I begged him to take me into the emergency room. Some discussion passed between him and the guy at the gate and a wheelchair was in route.
My husband gathered our things and I slowly, deliberately walked toward the elevator. I was just sure I was going to have the baby right there in the parking garage. As we stood there waiting I held on to my husband rocking my hips, laboring for the first time how I wanted to, not trapped sitting in a car.
Oh my gosh. “I have to push, babe. I have to push.”
“Don’t push! They will be here in a…”
The door to the elevator opened and 2 women whose faces I would not see for a few minutes sat me down and rushed me through the hospital making calls on their walkie, talkie like devices the entire time.
Every “I have to push.” was retorted with a “Breath. Don’t push. Breath.” by the wonderful nurses.
And so I tried.
We reached the room and I wasn’t having a contraction. I begged them to let me pee. After a quick second of pleading she conceded but made me promise not to push. As I sat down to relieve my bladder I stripped off my jeans and top and as I was standing up she slipped a nursing gown on me. I many never know if I wiped…
As I climbed on to the bed I felt another contraction coming on.
“I’m going to check you…oh there’s the head were the last words I heard as I pushed out my baby.
2 hard pushes and I had baby on my chest and heard my husband whispering sweetly in my ear. “He is here. It’s a boy!”
I had to laugh. It was over. My baby was in my arms. He was 8lbs 13 oz, 20.5 inches long and born at 5:31pm, just about an hour and 45 minutes from when we had left the house. We hadn’t been at the hospital more than 10 minutes, including parking time, and my baby was in my arms.
Within just a few minutes of delivery, the doctor entered the room, my doula came sprinting in and the nurse asked my name.
It was a perfectly exciting whirlwind.
Now on to the stubborn placenta and uterine cramping that rivaled active labor, but we had another son, a healthy, strong baby boy who wasn’t born on the side of the road.
What more could I ask for?
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