|A little date night with my favorite milk shakes!|
|New car: check!|
|Last picture as a family of three|
|Going a little crazy...|
We went home a little discouraged by the prospect of waiting a whole other week to meet our little one (and a whole other week of PUPPPS and getting bigger!) We had a lovely dinner provided by a very considerate friend (she just KNEW I would need a pick me up that day!) and then we went to Target to try and find something to provide some itch relief.
|Lookin' like hobos at Target. Why she wanted a million of these I don't know|
"These contractions... they actually hurt."
"Well just soak a bit. Maybe it'll help ease and relax your muscles."
A couple minutes later: "No, I want to get out. These hurt."
I got out and was getting dressed and we started timing them. Five minutes apart. Ok. Well, the doctor said I need to have them 5 minutes apart for an hour before going to the hospital. We started packing our bags and getting the car ready. After about 30 minutes they're getting more intense and move to 2 minutes apart. We called Josh to come over and stay with Emma. He got there about 12:15 am and we rushed out to the car. We are so lucky it was the middle of the night and Mopac was empty, because it only took us 10 minutes to get to the hospital (Hans was going fast :)). If it would have happened at rush hour, we would have been in trouble...
We pulled into the hospital a little after 12:30 and managed to contract my way to the maternity ward. In between contractions, the first thing I told the admitting nurse was that I tested positive for Group B Strep and I have quick deliveries so I needed the antibiotic as soon as possible. She responded with a very calm and nonchalant "Ok, ok. Let's get through this paperwork." After 45 minutes (!) of paper work, she *finally* checks my cervix and everything changes. "Oh! You're 7 cm!!" Yes. Yes, I am. I'm not kidding lady, this kid is about to be here. The whole atmosphere changed. Paperwork was cast aside. Extra nurses came in so they could try and get through things quicker.
They wheeled me (contracting too hard to walk at this point) to a delivery room around 1:30. I asked if I could use the restroom before I got in the bed, knowing once I got in I wouldn't be getting back up. As soon as I sat down on the toilet, there was a very loud POP! sound and then water was everywhere. When my water broke with Emma, I didn't feel anything and there was just a strong stream of water running down my legs. This was nothing like that. This felt and sounded like a rubber band snapping and the gush of water kinda went everywhere - like a water balloon had gotten thrown at me! The noise was so loud, the two nurses in the hall heard it and came running in. Apparently last time they heard water break like that, it meant the baby fell out in the toilet. They were worried that had happened. Fortunately, it was just my water. But after that happened, the contractions became nearly unbearable. They helped me into bed, but I was buckling over and screaming through each contraction. I don't remember screaming with Emma. I just remember being really focused on getting through the pain. This time I screamed. A lot. They called the anesthesiologist who came quickly and explained I was progressing so quickly it might not take, but he would try. No sooner had he put the epidural in, then my contractions actually sped up! I told them I needed to push. They checked and I was 10 cm, 100 percent effaced, and crowning. The nurse borrowed the anesthesiologist's phone to call the doctor to come catch the baby. The anesthesiologist promised me that one of two things would happen in the next 10 minutes - either the epidural would take or the baby would be here and it would be over. And the epidural took. Mostly. I could still feel pretty much everything, I just wasn't in excruciating pain anymore.
I could see a clock hanging on the wall right in front of me as I started to push. Because my labor was moving so fast and so hard, I thought surely it would take just a few pushes to get out. After about 20 minutes, I was pretty surprised. And I was pushing hard. I was getting so tired. I even asked for oxygen. I could see the doctor and the nurse giving each other a weird look and I started getting so worried. I was worried he was stuck or in distress or something. I thought "Oh my gosh, is this going to end in C-Section after all this?!" The nurse left and came back with more nurses. I pushed harder than I thought I could and after another 25 minutes I finally felt every inch of him leave my body. The mood in the room changed and the nurses were all relieved and laughing. They told me they had gotten nervous because they realized he was much bigger than any body expected and they literally needed extra hands to help. They were all betting on how big he was. Imagine my surprise when they told me he was a whopping 9 pounds and 10 ounces and 22 inches long! And had blond hair!! I swear, if I wouldn't have delivered him I wouldn't think it possible he was mine.
We hadn't been able to settle on a name and had hoped that when we saw him, something would jump out. We had a list of names we didn't hate that we took to the hospital. And we didn't immediately know what he would be, but we saw him and knew several things he was not. He was not a Theodore, or an Ezra, or a Finn. We mulled over the names and I felt like I kept coming back to James. It took us a day or two, but we finally settled on James Austin. Austin is my brother's name, my dad's middle name, and my great-grandfather's middle name, so I definitely wanted to incorporate that.