My due date was actually September 6, but as our other two kids were born early, we assumed that this baby would be too. I was hoping our baby would come on my dad's birthday, August 28. That week I picked up my activity level, going for long walks, going to parks, playing with the kids, racing Jack (I won, by the way), and nesting. On Friday (August 31), I went to lunch with Jeremy's mom and our kids. While I was there, Jeremy texted me this:
*yeah, yeah, I know. It's spelled "jalApeno."
He's so demanding. And he really didn't want me to go into labor at the beginning of a weekend, laboring all through the night, starting out with such little sleep (as had happened with our first two kids). Which, of course, is exactly what happened.
5:30 pm: As I started to make supper, a wave of nausea and contractions hit me. By the time I sat down to have dinner, I was having contractions close to 3 minutes apart. I lay down and they subsided some, becoming more irregular.
8:00 pm: As we were finishing putting the kids to bed, I got an awful side cramp. After it lasted close to an hour, I called my midwife to ask what we should do. Because the side cramp seemed unusual, we decided to head to the hospital to get checked to make sure everything was ok.
9:15 pm: We got to the hospital and they started admitting us right away. I told the nurse, "I'm not even sure I'm in labor; maybe I should just get checked first?" You'd think that by round number three I would know if I was actually in labor or not.The midwife came and checked me and found that I was 6 cm dilated. Guess I was in labor!
2:00 am: I had dilated to 7 cm, but progress seemed to be slowing, so I agreed to have my water broken. By the way, my water breaking has always been the defining moment when labor becomes WAY more intense, as I've never had an epidural. Laboring before that moment is like going for a jog on a nice fall afternoon. After that moment? It's like running a marathon. Up an endless flight of stairs that are covered in ice, even though it's 120 degrees out. Dragging a bag filled with bricks. Dodging bullets. You know...intense.
2:30 am: While bouncing on a birthing ball, I got the worst case of the giggles. There I bounced, laughing hysterically, through contractions, to the point of nearly crying. My midwife came in and I told her I was pretty sure I had completely lost my mind. I'm surprised they let me take the baby home.
3:15 am: I am no longer laughing. I put headphones in and turned on Blindside's "With Shivering Hearts We Wait" album. Perfect album to labor to for the next four hours.
6:30 am-ish: Labor is stalling at 9 cm. My midwife asked if I wanted pitocin. I said I would try anything if it meant avoiding pitocin. I was becoming discouraged and thinking "I can't handle this any more!" I won't go into details here, but I will say I didn't end up having pitocin. And I will never forget the scene in that hospital room as I tried "anything."
7:00 am: I started pushing and completely stopped caring if our baby was a boy or girl. This was my first pregnancy where I did not find out the gender ahead of time. Jeremy did find out the gender at 20 weeks and kept it a secret the rest of the time. And he sure enjoyed it- watching me wash up boy and girl baby clothes, knowing which ones I would be packing back up later.
7:34 am: Finally, THE moment. 35 weeks and 1 day after I showed Jeremy a positive pregnancy test, we were meeting our third child, a son. Charlie David Jennings was born! All 9 lbs, 12.5 oz of him! I can't really describe how awesome that moment is...when everything you just went through is instantly worth it. "Thank you Jesus!!!" was really all I could say. New life is so amazing!
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| This... |
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| ..to this... |
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| ...to THIS in a matter of hours! |
I am blessed.
That text is perfect, and hilarious. I've missed your blog, you always lay things out so nicely. I've also missed you. Facebook keeps me decently up to date, but it's not the same as seeing you guys.
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