Since the beginning of February I'd been praying that God would make me go into labor. I was pretty done with being pregnant. Tired of getting up to go to the bathroom 2 or 3 times a night, tired of wearing the same outfits every week and tired of hauling that big belly around. Chris sweetly reminded me every time I complained that we needed to enjoy these last days together as just a married couple and enjoy sleeping in as much as possible. February 10th (my due date) came and still no baby. I. was. bummed. My doctor told me that I would probably not have the baby over the weekend, being that I was not very dilated, but he couldn't tell very well because his head was so low. That night we went to dinner and shopped around and I was feeling pretty sick, pretty nauseous and having mild contractions. When we got home I sat on my birthing ball and we watched a movie. The contractions (much to my disappointment) went away and I got ready for bed.
At 1 in the morning, I felt a gush and thought excitedly that maybe my water broke. I ran to the bathroom and decided that was exactly what happened and made a quick call to my doctor. He agreed and told me to get going to the hospital. I woke up Chris and we got moving. We arrived at the hospital around 1:30pm and got settled in our room. Contractions were probably 10 minutes apart and so the nurse encouraged us to get some rest. We tried, but it was hard. I was excited and anxious, plus having some contractions on top of that made it hard to sleep. So, Chris and I hung out and watched tv. By about 7 am, we had a new nurse and my contractions were getting closer together and more intense, but I was still not very dilated. Noon, rolled around and the nurses and doctors decided to give me some medicine to get things going and boy did it! Never have I felt such horrible pain in all my life. For 4 straight hours I had really severe contractions and they were really close together. I squeezed Chris's hand, took a bath in the whirlpool and bounced on the birthing ball to try elevating the pain. Chris was unbelievable. He was so encouraging, cheering me on through every contraction. Just when I thought I couldn't take anymore, the nurse and doctor said I was dialed enough to get an epidural and suddenly life was good again. Chris and I both took a nap and got some much needed rest.
A few hours later, the doctor and nurse came and were concerned because the baby's heart rate and blood pressure were really low, so they put an oxygen mask on me and blood pressure cuff to help things out. I had to lay on my left side for the new few hours, but things didn't improve. So around 6:30pm, the doctor told me that we needed to do a c-section for the sake of the baby. What other decision could we make? Although, I cried and cried , Chris and I both knew we had to do it. So, they got everything set up and wheeled us down to the OR. I said a quick prayer for God to help me to be brave and strong and Chris held my hand. Minutes later, we heard our son's cry and I cried tears of joy. After that I felt relieved, but also exhausted and all I wanted to do was sleep. I heard the nurses yell over to me that he was 8 pounds and 5 ounces and overheard the doctor say to Chris that we probably couldn't have had a normal delivery based on his size. Once they took me into the recovery room, Chris came in to ask me about a name. The first time, he suggested Owen Samuel, and then the second time he said he looked more like a Jack Christopher. And that was it. Jack came in our lives at 7:35pm with a cone head and beautiful blue eyes. He looks just like his dad and I still can't believe he's ours.
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| first family picture |
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| minutes old |
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| two days old |
