But since that's unlikely, we're striving to make it as perfect as we can, given our situation. And with baby boy #2 in the picture, things are pretty close to perfect.
Having a fresh, fuzzy, little, soft, squirmy, yummy smelling baby around is wonderful. We're (but mostly I) are so grateful he's here.
It all started last Saturday when we were leaving dinner. I took The Lime outside since he gets restless waiting around for the check. I had to sit back down immediately as the Braxton hicks contractions I had been getting for months were now all of a sudden painful. My first thought was, "I just stuffed my face with chips and salsa and taquitos! I can't go into labor." My mom scared me earlier that week saying if you go into labor with a full stomach, you throw it all up because your digestive system shuts down. I couldn't imagine having contractions AND throwing up...death sounds more appealing. Nothing else happened until we pulled into our garage and another contraction hit. I wasn't sure what would happen during the night so I ironed The Lime's church clothes and wanted to give him his bath, since I knew it'd be the last one with just us but LaVor objected. He told me I needed to lay down and quit trying to do everything.
So that's what I did...rested in my bed and started timing the contractions. After three hours of increasingly painful contractions, I still wasn't in line with the 5-1-1 rule but I had measured 3.5 cm at my appointment the day before and didn't want to take any chances of not getting my epidural. So we left for the hospital at 12:30 Sunday morning, leaving The Lime in good hands with my mom. We got checked into triage and they hooked me up to the monitors, asked me a million questions, and monitored me for 20 minutes, only to send me home. There was no change in the dilation and they wanted the contractions closer together and more painful. So off we went, back home to wait it out.
I stayed in our bedroom and LaVor tried to sleep on the couch. But between The Lime waking up with a coughing fit and my moaning during contractions, nobody got any sleep. After trying to relax in the bathtub, we decided to head back to the hospital since my moaning had turned into wailing. There was lots of screaming and gripping as we made the 8 minute drive to the hospital, where I was thankfully checked in at 5:45. The nurse said they had been extremely busy all night and weren't sure where they'd put me. Honestly, I didn't care where I went, I just wanted drugs. She ended up putting me in a delivery room and I was once again hooked up to monitors and checked for progress. "Oooohhhh, of course it would be this!" she said as she checked me. "Ummm, what does that mean?" I asked. She didn't respond but said the anesthesiologist was on his way. I overheard her in the hallway say that I was a 7. Several minutes later, the anesthesiologist arrived with more questions and then it was time for the good stuff. Except, it wasn't the good stuff I was hoping for. Because of how far along I was, they didn't give me a "full on" epidural but more of a limited use one (can't think of its name) which took effect immediately. The instant relief from pain was glorious and much needed. I spent the next hour or so being poked and prodded while LaVor tried to sleep. The pain medication was making my chest and face itchy and the oxygen mask was getting on my nerves. I could tell the medicine wasn't as strong as before and the pressure was mounting. We paged the nurse and told her it was time.
This part scares me. It scared me with The Lime and this time was no different. Knowing the inevitable is no fun, especially when you can feel it.
I was lucky enough to have my doctor be the one on-call so I didn't have complete strangers seeing my lady parts. And while I didn't feel an extremely close connection with my doctor (she was sort of shy) during my prenatal visits, I appreciated her calm demeanor during the delivery, especially since the nurse was getting on my case about how I was holding my legs, how I wasn't pushing down, and how I needed to "get mad!"
It didn't take long before I felt defeated and started crying. The medicine had worn off and the combination of contraction pain plus pushing pain plus being exhausted caught up to me. I knew the baby was going to come out eventually but I wasn't sure how I'd make it happen. After about 40 minutes of feeling like every blood vessel on my face exploded, eventually screaming at the top of my lungs (yup...I was one of those), and experiencing that dreaded ring of fire, we had a little Doodlebug.
We weren't surprised when we found out we had an 8 pound 3 oz baby, who measured 19 3/4 inches long. He had big hands (from LaVor) and big feet (from me) but other than that, I wasn't sure who he looked like.
After everything was cleaned up and put back, LaVor was talking to his brother and mentioned that his parents were coming up after his cousin's baby blessing. "Blessing?" the nurse asked me. "Are you guys LDS?" Even though she wasn't cutting me any slack during the delivery, we made lots of connections and figured we had to be related somehow. Her mom was from Little Rock, she grew up Catholic and joined the church as a teenager. Her name was Barbara and couldn't stay to chat for too long but we ended our time together agreeing that the gospel is a huge blessing that brings so much joy and hope to our lives.
My parents brought The Lime over a few hours later and he was a bit hesitant when he walked in the room. I think it was a shock for him to see the baby outside of my stomach but it didn't take him long to relax.
We only had to stay overnight which I appreciated. The bed was so uncomfortable and was killing my back but I did enjoy the constant flow of food. All of the nurses were also a joy to interact with, even in the middle of the night. We found out one of them lives down the street from us and her son is the nice guy who drives an old Blazer and waves at The Lime.
Overall, I think everyone is adjusting nicely. My biggest fear has been if The Lime is getting enough mom/dad time, love, affection, and attention. I've spent a few moments crying in the bathroom, to ensure he doesn't see me and have a breakdown himself (like we did a few weeks ago). But I think he's doing well. I think him being older has helped since he can comprehend the situation a bit better than if he was still a baby himself.
We have lots to be grateful for but are especially blessed that Doodlebug arrived safe, sound, and healthy.
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