Where to start? This is a long story, so I won't be offended if you just look at the pictures. And there may be details you don't wish to read...sorry. And there are details I just don't know...Beth will have to comment to fill those in.
Well, Wednesday started with a phone call to schedule an induction for Monday morning. Beth, my mom and the kids were here and we made plans for the rest of the week. On the agenda: Thursday-make Father's Day cards with the kids, then leave them all with a sitter while we went shopping and out to dinner. Friday-clean the house and decorate for Ben's 'welcome home' party. Saturday and Sunday-enjoy some quiet family time and get lots of rest before Monday-drive calmly and comfortably to the hospital, get an epidural and quietly give birth to our third child. Wednesday was the first day I felt relaxed in a long time. I had a plan! I wasn't going to have a baby until Ben was home, I was going to go shopping and get a pedicure (and shave my legs!) and really, really, enjoy the last few days with just Alison and Eliot. I confess that I had been making an effort to do my hair and make up just in case I went into labor-so I'd be prepared for those first pictures with my son...this was the first day I threw my hair in a ponytail, skipped the mascara and wore Ben's raggedy old t-shirt all day. After dinner we took the kids for a walk and I remember telling mom and Beth just how great I felt. We got the kids to bed and turned on TLC...I think we were watching 'My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding' or Restaurant Impossible.
Beth had sweetly made me a peanut butter pie, one of my ultimate favorite desserts. I was pulling the pie out of the refrigerator and we were debating whether or not Aunt Irene had just made up the recipe, when all of the sudden there was a little, tiny, trickle down my leg. I stopped and looked at Beth...and grabbed some wine. Beth told me to lie down and then stand up again in a few minutes-if more came out, then we would know my water had broken. So I layed down on my left side and drank a BIG cup of water (that's what they told me to do in triage to see if labor was "real"). After the water was gone, I stood up to go to the bathroom-we all noted that nothing happened. In the bathroom, I had the same experience that I had a few weeks earlier that sent me to the triage and it ended up being nothing. So, I grabbed my piece of pie and my teeny tiny glass of wine (thinking I might need it later, not knowing I really needed a
BIG glass) and finished watching our show. I had a couple of contractions, but nothing I had to breath through or that was anywhere close to what I had been experiencing in the past couple of weeks. I told my mom and Beth that I would know if my water had broken...surely there would be more fluid and contractions would get stronger and consistent. I was fearful of reliving my triage experience and wanted to stay home as long as possible...so I headed to bed.
*And the moral of the story is: if you think your water may have broken while getting out peanut butter pie, GO TO THE HOSPITAL!!!*
Beth and I were sharing a bed and stayed up until about 11:30 talking. I fell sound asleep, still not having any contractions or noticing any fluid.
12:15am: woke up to the mother of contractions. I don't know where it came from, but I must have made a horrible noise because Beth jumped out of bed. I told her that I have never had a contraction like that in my entire life and then I heard a pop. There still wasn't a big gush, but I just knew. I called Ben in tears and just kept saying "I'm so sorry" over and over. Beth ran our bags out the car, told mom to get up. The Holy Spirit must have spoken to us right then...I don't know how we knew, but I knew I had to get out of that bed and Beth knew she had to get me to the hospital ASAP. Mom helped me out to the car and then she stayed with the 5 kids at home. Let me just say, that Beth is one smart cookie. She smartly put a towel under me before I got into the car and then she drove as fast as she could-like 60 or more, straight through every stop sign and light (which might not be a big deal, unless you life in small town Smithfield and the have to go through a little downtown area with a speed limit of 25 right before the hospital). The drive was not pretty. Labor was not a contraction every couple of minutes that I would just breath through. Nope. This was every fiber of my being contracting, constantly, and the only thing I could do was scream...the whole way.
Atoning Sacrifice, Keeper of this life. Hallelujah, You our Savior.
Beginning and the end. Forgiver of my sin. By Your mercy, You have saved us.
Jesus, You are stronger, more than any other.
Hallelujah, what a Savior. Jesus, You are higher. My soul's deepest desire.
Hallelujah, You our Savior.
*Tangent, but follow me. Ben sang this song in church right before he left. I'd never heard it before, but I will never forget hearing him sing it. It was beautiful and the Lord definitely spoke to me through it that morning. I prayed for His strength every day. A couple of Sundays ago, the worship team sang it again and I could barely make it through the song. I was feeling so weak and missed Ben terribly. I wrote the song down in my journal and prayed over it throughout the week. Then, as Beth and I drove to the doctors appointment that we thought for sure would result in them sending us to the hospital for a calm birth, we heard the song on the radio. Wednesday night, as we sped through Smithfield, this song came on the radio again. I'm not sure how I heard through all the screaming, but I told Beth to crank the radio and I was just in awe of God in that moment...how He uses little things to make big differences. I needed His strength in that moment more than any other. I am not a natural childbirth person and am not a fan of frantic, unplanned moments and really needed more than Ben's t-shirt there. It was solely by the Lord's strength and grace that we got to the hospital that night.*
As I saw the dreaded James River Bridge approaching, I told Beth I didn't think I was going to make it...the baby was coming and she was going to have to call 911. She slowed down the car and pulled out her phone. Again the Spirit was working-she says that she noticed 2 cop cars sitting at the gas station right there and knew she could go get them to call an ambulance,
but she knew that ER doctors would be better than ambulance paramedics. I had a moment of calm, covered my face and told her to drive as fast as she could across that bridge. Somehow I found a breathing pattern that kept me somewhat calm-I don't know where it came from, but it got me halfway across the bridge. Then it hit. The dreaded feeling. I screamed "I have to push!" and started taking off my clothes and reclining the chair...sorry TMI. Is it also TMI to mention that I was wearing Ben's undershirt and boxers? Sorry honey. Your boxers are long gone. I don't know where they went, but you don't want them back. Trust me. I will never forget this moment: Beth reached over, pulled up my pants and shouted back "NO! DON'T PUSH!". I can laugh about it now. But at the time we were just screaming at eachother. "I HAVE TO PUSH!". "NO, DON'T PUSH!" Somewhere in there I was shouting that I needed a drink, I needed Ben, I didn't want to do this, apologizing for screaming and a lot of "AHHH!". We got across the bridge and for some reason I rolled down the window, which for some reason helped me make it the rest of the way...maybe I just needed the fresh air. Once we knew we were close (it's normally a 30 minute drive), we both just kept saying, "we're almost there" over and over. Beth sped in the ER enterance and ran inside. There was a homeless man standing right there (alright, I don't really know if he was homeless, but for some reason that was what I thought in that moment. Actually, he really was more of an angel in that moment) and heard me screaming. He said, "Ma'am, are you ok?" I shouted "NO!" and he said, "Are you having a baby?" and I said, "YES! AND HE'S COMING OUT!" He ran inside to get a gurney, which is really the heroic part, because Beth said the receptionist was clueless and grabbed a wheelchair. All of the sudden, I saw 2 nurses dashing toward me-they must have been on a smoke break and heard my screams...and I will never forget the smoke stench I smelled as they helped me. These 2 amazing women came and literally picked me up out of the car, threw me on the gurney and ran me inside. From here is a blur. I don't know who technically delivered the baby...maybe no one? maybe one of the nurses that scooped me out of the car? I didn't even actually make it to a room. The gurney stopped somewhere in the ER and the baby came out-30 minutes after the start of labor. I don't remember actually pushing, for sure not like I had with Alison and Eliot. I do remember the nurses trying to somehow cover me up as they ran me through the waiting room, but I'm pretty sure everyone there saw my baby coming out...oh well. I remember Beth telling me that it was over, that I did it and my son was here. I remember grabbing one of the nurses hands right after he was born and holding on for dear life as the "after birth" contractions started. I remember a sweet doctor coming next to me and telling me over and over that my baby was okay. He was so quiet and I was worried something was wrong. I was definitely in shock...I couldn't even hold him I was shaking so bad. I don't remember getting an IV port put in, I don't remember seeing the room full of people, I don't even know how the baby got up to 'Labor and Delivery'. I could barely remember what his name or my birthdate was. I was sad that it happened so fast that we weren't even able to get Ben on the phone. Beth got a few pictures and a short, scary video that will never be shared, but it definitely was not what I had hoped or imagined.
The same doctor that delivered Eliot was at the hospital and came running down to help me up to 'labor and delivery'. He took great care of me, but there really wasn't a lot to do. Miraculously, I didn't tear at all or have any other "side effects" that usually come with the territory (if you've had a baby, you know what I mean). He cleaned me up, the nurses cleaned up the baby and I called Ben with a shaky voice to tell him that his son was born. No one knew how to fill out the paperwork for my experience and I sure hope I don't get charged a room fee for being there all of 5 minutes. When I finally got Colin to hold for the first time, a nurse came over a speaker and asked someone in the room to fix the security band around his ankle. Another nurse came over and tightened it. A few minutes later, a nurse literally ran in the room and started adjusting his ankle band. The first nurse told her that she just did that...well aparently it wasn't done right, because it wasn't reading right and the whole hospital had been locked down. Great! Now, not only was I the person who delivered a baby in the hallway, now I was the person who caused the whole hospital to go on lock down!
I was quickly amazed at the difference between delivering naturally and with an epidural. They took the IV port pretty quickly and it was nice to not be hooked up to anything. I could walk around right away and it was nice to feel like myself (alright, once the shock wore off and I remembered who I was). They took us down to a 'Mother/baby' room and we settled in. Beth went to move the car and get our bags and try to loose some adrenaline. Neither of us slept that night. Around breakfast time, Beth went home to tell the kids and help them get ready for the day.
My mom brought Alison and Eliot to the hospital and we were able to skype Ben, so everyone could meet Colin. It was a sweet moment. Ben and I had tears in our eyes, Alison was just purely excited and Eliot wasn't sure at first, but then quickly grabbed the baby and said "OUR BABY!". Yes bubby, he's our baby. He's a little stinker that couldn't wait for his daddy. But he's here, he's healthy and we're all together now.
Recovery has been a breeze...I actually feel better now than I did 5 days ago. Colin is eating great and many of the nurses commented that they've never seen a baby nurse as well as he has. My voice was scratchy for a couple of days from the thirty minutes of frantic screaming, but nothing a little strawberry limeade slushy can't cure.
And just for you momma's out there who plan on having more than 2 kids: a heating pad and Motrin will be your best friend for a couple of days after delivery. I've had moments after each birth of "why didn't someone tell me?" and want to help my friends avoid those moments. Cramping after birth increases with each baby. I barely remember any with Alison, a little with Eliot, but this time...Yikes! Just put a heating pad on your belly when you nurse, and you'll be good to go :)
