Sorry I've been so MIA lately. As many of you know, Baby #3 has been teasing me since 34 weeks. Well, baby is finally here…and it's a boy!
Y'all probably couldn't care less, but I'm going to share the story with you anyway…
because it's a good one 🙂
I was induced with my first baby (“Hutch”) 8 days late because he was NOT interested in coming on his own. I cried every day for weeks because I would have sold my left arm to get him out.
18 months later my second baby (Priya) came 10 days early and caught us all by surprise, and happened to come at a bit of a busy, inconvenient time…but we were thrilled to welcome her, of course.
Ironically, even though they came 18 days apart they were identical in size (7lb 10 oz, 19″ long).
They are best buddies 🙂
18 days is a big difference between babies so we had no idea what to expect with baby #3.
At 34 weeks I woke up at 4am having mild but consistent contractions, 4 minutes apart. As much as I would've liked to not be pregnant any more, 34 weeks was a BIT early for my taste. Not to mention it was only 2 days before Frugality Boot Camp 2013.
Worst timing ever…
I headed into L&D and they gave me a shot to stop the labor and sent me home with bed-rest orders until 36 weeks.
Bed rest? Yeah right…
I made it to 36 weeks and patted myself on the back for not having a pre-term baby.
A day or two before 37 weeks I woke up with mild but consistent contractions again.
I got excited about getting the baby out because I was basically full-term at this point…but I was extremely caught off-guard. In fact, when I woke up with contractions I buzzed around my house cleaning, vacuuming, and doing laundry. I even made a quick grocery run to Walmart to stock up just in case baby came (…yes, all at 4am). I headed into L&D once all was taken care of at home.
…unfortunately it was a false-alarm and they made me take the walk of shame from L&D.
At this point I was SICK of being pregnant and SO READY for this baby to get here, but was sick of the false-alarms. I vowed that unless my water broke or physically had a baby limb coming out of me I was NOT going back to L&D.
Gross, but true.
At my next appointment I asked my doc if she'd induce me early because I was so miserable (physically and mentally). She said she couldn't induce me more than a week early unless there is a medical reason. She said she was going out of town for 10 days but would induce me when she gets back, 3 days before my due date. I was bummed that she wouldn't be around to induce me earlier, and extra-bummed that my baby would probably come while she was gone and some stranger would have to deliver me.
…but I accepted. Begrudgingly.
Days feel like months from this point on. I walked around always wondering when the baby would come, and mentally “checking out” of…well…everything in terms of motivation for doing…well…much of anything. I scheduled lots of lunches with friends and lots of playdates to distract myself, but it didn't help much.
All contractions and any signs of labor completely stopped, so I consigned myself to the fact that baby was going to wait until my induction date to make it's debut. I figured it was probably for the best anyway since my mom had to fly in from Oregon to help me with my 2 kids and it made logistics much easier.
Monday Feb 25 was scheduled for my induction date. I have cleaning ladies come Saturday (best money I've spent in a LONG time…), I get all my grocery shopping done, my house is spotless (for about 2.6 seconds), my mom flies in Sunday night, laundry is caught up, meals are planned out, baby paraphernalia strategically placed all around my house…locked and loaded, ready to roll. Throughout the weekend my contractions pick up again, a little stronger now but still pretty mild, and this time they weren't as consistent. I reminded myself that unless my contractions were so bad that I was screaming and hitting Bubba like they do in the movies OR unless a baby was crawling out of me, I wasn't going to step foot into L&D again, so I toughed it. The contractions continued to come and go all weekend which only annoyed me more. I kept thinking, “There should be some law in the universe that unless a contraction is pushing a baby out of you, they shouldn't exist!”
If only I was in charge, right?…
The hospital called Sunday night to confirm my induction for the next morning and told me to call at 7am, and unless super busy (which they said was unlikely) they would most likely have me come in at 730 am. I showered and shaved my legs for the first time in 9 months (or so it felt, anyway), we set our alarms and we headed to bed, excited for baby to come the next morning. As we're falling asleep I say to my husband (Bubba), “How cool would it be if I went into labor naturally tonight? Because then I'd know the baby was ready, it'd be easier on my body, and everything would logistically be perfect because my doctor and my mom are both in town now. Oh, actually, that means I'd be up in the middle of the night laboring so never mind. That would suck to get no sleep.”
Hey, it was only like 2 seconds ago so I remember pretty well, ok! 🙂
At 2:45am I hear my son wake up so I head upstairs to check on him. On my way up the stairs I feel the all-too-familiar false-alarm contraction that I've grown to hate so much. I remember thinking, “sucks that getting up in the middle of the night is what gives me contractions. Why can't it be chocolate, or pedicures, or shopping…”
I go back to bed.
Sometime between 3-4am I start having weird labor dreams. I wake up a few times to some pretty deep, bothersome contractions. I fall back to sleep thinking “ugh, these ones are really annoying.” I was so out of it I felt like the contractions were hours apart from each other.
By 4(ish) am I wake up and realize that I'm not just dreaming, and that I'm having steady, pretty painful contractions. I time them for a while. They were between 3 and 4 minutes apart, just like my false alarms, but this time I knew they were different, as they were steadily getting stronger.
I woke Bubba up and told him I was having pretty painful contractions. I said, “You might want to hop in the shower, we should probably get to the hospital.”
I did my hair and makeup while he showered (yes, makeup. Vain? Sure! But who wants to look and feel nasty on a day when you get 5000 pictures taken of you?? Plus, I was about to have a baby. Who KNOWS when the next time I put makeup on would be!).
Before my walk of shame at 36 weeks I called the nurse to see if I needed to go to L&D or not. I told her my contractions were mild, but consistent. She said (quote) “that's where people get into a lot of trouble – when they wait for their contractions to hurt. Especially with your 3rd baby it might not take much to prepare your uterus for delivery. That's how people end up having babies in cars; because they wait too long.” What she said kept ringing in my ears as I got ready. My contractions started getting really painful, really fast. I kept thinking, “oh my gosh, we might really need to hurry”…and then a contraction would hit that would freeze me on the spot.
Needless to say, I did my makeup in the car.
The hospital is only 10 minutes away and we made it in record time. We pull up around 5am. Bubba was going to drop me off at the door, but a contraction hit as he pulled up, which left me frozen in my seat. DANG those things hurt. He said, “Ok I'll just park real fast while you ride it out and we'll walk in together.” I swear he drove over every bump in that parking lot as he parked. I thought I was going to punch him. (Just kidding babe, love you!)
He parked and I stepped out of the car…
and my water broke.
It took me a second to figure out what happened, then I thought…
Whoa. That was close. Those seats are upholstered.
I looked at Bubba around the other side of the car and said, “Um…yeah, so my water definitely just broke. Thaaaaaaat's gross.” and waddled ahead of him into L&D.
I “walked” up to the admit desk and when they said, “How can I help you?” I answered with,
“So, my water just broke in your parking lot and I'm pretty sure I'm going to leak on your floor. Where would you like me?” Let's just say they got me to a room in record time.
Don't let this picture fool you. In between contractions I felt great, was perky, and happy as a clam. During a contraction?…I wanted to break somebody's arm.
We were checked in by 5:15am-ish. It took a full hour of them monitoring my contractions, taking my blood pressure, drawing blood, asking me a million questions that they already had the answers to from my previous walks of shame. The contractions were getting unbearable. I wanted to cry every time one hit. And let me tell you, that is saying a lot because I have one of the highest pain tolerances that many doctors have ever seen.
Er…or so I thought.
My poor husband felt helpless because he didn't know what to do when a contraction hit. Hey, I'm SOOOO pro-Epidural! We didn't take any lamaze classes and I didn't really feel any contractions with my other two (no strong ones, anyway) so we had no idea what we were in for. He kept asking the nurse, “so when can she get her epidural?” She explained that it was too early and no anesthesiologists were around because there was only 1 other woman in L&D and she decided to go natural. She was like, “we'll call him and see if he can get in here early but he wasn't planning on being in for a few hours.”
I wanted to hurt her.
Only during the contractions, of course.
During that hour my contractions only got worse. I kept thinking, “Isn't someone going to check me to see if I'm dilated? I swear this baby is crawling out of me”…and then I silently cursed myself for making that agreement for labor. I take it back! I take it back!
The nurse finally checked me and I was already dilated to a 7/8 and progressing quickly. She left to call my doc and to check on the anesthesiologist. She came back with blessed news…
“turns out the other woman changed her mind about the natural labor, so they called the anesthesiologist (A-Doc as we will now call him because that's a really long word to spell) in and he will be right in as soon as he's done giving her an epidural.”
God bless you, woman!
The A-Doc came in and I wanted to hug him.
My husband wanted to kiss him.
He administered the Epi. My hubby kept asking, “so…how long before it takes affect?”
I didn't know whether to think it was sweet, or to be offended by it.
(Haha ok so I swear I wasn't a monster! I was actually a silent sufferer…he just couldn't stand seeing how painful it was for me. Sweet guy.)
They gave me the sweet, sweet meds…but I could still feel my contractions on the left side. BIG TIME. I was panicking at this point. They rolled me over and tried to get it to work on both sides, but they said my labor simply might be progressing faster than the meds can keep up with and it might just not work 100% this time.
I wanted to cry.
Then hurt both of them.
Then cry again.
I kept pushing that blessed little blue button that administers more Epidural, hoping it would eventually work. It was taking the edge off, but I could still feel a ton of pressure.
The rest is a bit of a blur, but by 7:15 I was fully dilated and ready to rock. The epidural had done it's job and I was finally comfortable and no longer anxious about when the next contraction would hit. We were waiting for my doctor to arrive, and they told me to hang tight and “don't push.”
Ok, sure, I'll do that.
Turns out it ended up being a SUPER busy day in L&D. They had a ton of women come in, and come to find out, they got so busy that if I hadn't gone into labor naturally I probably would've been bumped and they wouldn't have induced me…potentially for a few days.
Then I probably would have ACTUALLY hurt someone.
Close call on that one!
(Side note…it's because it was a full-moon that night! I always swear that my kids turn into werewolves and are horrible sleepers when there's a full moon. Turns out L&D goes crazy, and it's a fact – according to all the L&D nurses, anyway. Weird.)
My doc arrived, got suited up, we made friendly small talk about her vacation and the weather, and it was go-time. We had great conversation and had a gay-ol' time now that the Epi was in effect.
I love labor when meds are involved.
They had me push, and it only took 2 contractions to get the baby out. The entire delivery was less than 5 minutes and he was born at 7:54am. The first thing the doc said was, “Wow! This is a big baby!”
To me, he looked miniscule.
We hadn't found out the gender this pregnancy, but the “feeling” and guess was that it was a boy. We obviously wouldn't care either way, but were excited about the thought of a boy. It was so fun to FINALLY learn the gender. He was the best baby while he was being cleaned off, weight, poked and prodded. Bubba and I were continually impressed at how easy-going of a baby he was, and still is.
The fact that everything went so perfectly with his labor (him waiting for my doc and mom to get to town…my water breaking in the parking lot and not the car/house…getting the epidural in time…going into labor naturally and not getting bumped…my doc arriving in time to deliver me…) is indicative of his perfect little personality so far.
We decided on the name Beck Avon Page (Avon pronounced like “Gavin” but without the G), named after two of our Grandpas. We had a list of names that we liked, but just knew he was a Beck as soon as we met him.
My recovery has been incredible. Chalk it up to it being baby #3, a super fast delivery, going into labor naturally, or a combination of all 3, but I feel like a million bucks. In fact, I couldn't get out of the hospital fast enough. I begrudgingly stayed in the hospital over night, but was out of there as soon as Beck was circumcised and cleared all of his newborn tests today. I figured, “If all I'm doing is sitting around holding the baby and watching lame-o TV…I might as well be doing that in my own bed.”
I didn't even stay long enough to enjoy the special steak dinner they provide for the new moms/dads.
That's ok…just take it off my tab, folks!
My kids couldn't wait to meet him, and are absolutely enthralled with their new “Baby Beck”.
…unfortunately they are both in the process of getting sick again, so we are all UBER paranoid about getting ourselves – and especially Beck – sick too.
That is one good, cautious daddy!
So that's my story. I hope you forgive me as I might take a little more “family time” these next few weeks as we adjust to life with our cute little man.
Isn't he a doll?
…Mimi sure thinks so.
Have a great week, everyone!