Three Months Later… A Birth Story

Oh, hey – the last time I posted, I was in the home stretch (pun intended) of pregnancy. Here I am at home on Friday, January 29. I knew I was in labor, but I didn’t know Maxwell Orion would be born only about four hours later.

As of yesterday, we have a three-month old!

20160429. Three months old.

So what if it took me three months to getting around to documenting our birth story? Let me hook you with some spoilers: this tale includes Taco Bell, getting your frosting swirled, and a hilarious anesthesiologist with a potty mouth. Brace yourself.

It all started at my weekly OB appointment on Wednesday morning; my due date was the following Saturday, 1/30/16. The doc checked me out, told me nothing seemed to be imminent, swirled my frosting (this is a fun way of saying she stripped my membranes, which sends about 50% of ladies into labor within 48 hours if their bodies are ready), and said it could be a day or a week. I asked if we should get my parents down to Indy since they would be watching Willem during all the hospital/birthing hoopla, and she said, “Well, I would.” Okay then!

The parents came down and hung out with us Wednesday and Thursday. I felt totally normal and fine, but I did have some business going. Still, I just assumed I’d be pregnant FOREVER, because that was exactly how I felt the entire last week of pregnancy: that I would be the lucky medical anomaly to have a college student in my uterus.

That night, we got Taco Bell because, if any kind of food was going to be successful in expelling a baby, it would be Doritos locos tacos, AMIRIGHT?! I had some pretty good contractions that night but assumed it was the tacos talking.

The next morning, I woke up feeling totally downtrodden. I slept just fine the night before with no contractions, no discomfort, no nothing. By 8:30, though, I was calling my parents at the hotel to tell them, OH HEY, no rush, but I think I’m having a baby today. Contractions had kicked in and were regular, but they were still totally manageable painwise. I kept waiting for them to become horrendous like they were with Willem, but they never did.

I spent the morning cuddling Willem, yukking it up with the parents, timing contractions, bouncing on my yoga ball, and finally calling the doctor’s office around 11:00. I was annoyed that they wanted me to come right in; since nothing felt super awful yet, I was afraid I’d be stuck in a hospital bed laboring forever if we went in too early. Chris came home around 2:00, and we headed to the hospital.

January 2016.

Thank goodness we did. I was already dilated to 5 cm when I arrived, but I was really not in any pain and walked from the office to L&D to get checked in. My two L&D nurses thought I was an induction because I was acting so a-okay: “So why are you getting induced?” When I told them I was 5 cm already and in labor, they got a little more pep in their step.

January 2016.

It all went extremely fast after that. We checked in around 3:30, water was broken around 4:00, epidural process started around 4:15. The anesthesiologist was hilarious (Anthony) and, as the bearer of the mighty epidural, by BFF very, very quickly. By 4:45 I told the nurse I wasn’t sure the epidural was working since I had some intense pain on one side. She was like, “Um, I’m pretty sure that just means you are about to have this baby.” Sure enough, there he was, RIGHT THERE, ready and waiting.

Suddenly, there were a lot of people in the room, and I swear one of my nurses said, “Oh, here’s so and so. She’s going to catch your baby.”

The doctor did manage to get back in time, right around 5:00 pm (I think). I still was in shock and disbelief when she looked me in the eye and said, “Let’s have this baby.” I think my exact words were, “Wait, I’m not ready!” I figured I had at least a few more hours.

I pushed through 5, maybe 6 contractions, and there he was at 5:25 pm, screaming on my chest, a little dimple on one side of his sweet mouth every time he got really worked up. I still cannot believe what an amazingly different labor and delivery experience this was compared to Willem’s. It was, dare I say it, EASY. And because I wasn’t completely wiped out when Max arrived, I was actually able to enjoy him… and definitely got pretty teary eyed when I saw his face for the first time.

January/February 2016.

Welcome to the world, Maxwell Orion! Born Friday, 1/29/16 at 5:25 pm, weighing 8 lbs. 7 oz. We love you more than we can say.

January/February 2016.

January/February 2016.

January/February 2016.

January/February 2016.

On the homefront.

On the homefront.

TWO WEEKS!

That’s right. Two weeks until Baby #2’s estimated due date. This iconic scene from Total Recall is all I can think of:

We’re ready…ish. Readyish. With Willem, I really had no idea what to expect. Sure, you read the books and the blogs and absolutely soak up all the information you can about caring for your newborn (or at least I did). You get all the baby “stuff” that is supposedly essential to having a happy baby these days. You stock your freezer and buy 20 extra rolls of toilet paper so you won’t have to send your husband out at 2 am.

20160115. Baby blanket for #2.

But no one can tell you how your body and brain will react to insane hormones, nursing all day and all night, the physical pain and recovery your body must go through on zero sleep, and a tiny creature you don’t quite understand, are just getting to know, and are trying to keep alive and, preferably, from crying.

End of the year snapshots.

And so now I know all of that… which makes it both easier and even more terrifying. That’s where the readyish part comes into play. I know I will never be truly “ready” for the newborn shock to the system. It’s just something you’ve got to get through, in all its sweet messiness.

End of the year snapshots.

This time, of course, I also have a wonderful little boy in the mix, a little dude who amazes me daily with his smarts, sense of humor, gentleness, and sweetness. Latest cute Willem-ism: he has this running monologue lately that goes something like, “big car, red car, green car, big big car,” etc. as he’s going about his day. Yesterday I asked him what was in mommy’s tummy. His response? “Baby car.”

I am so proud to be his mom, and I can’t wait to see how he and his little brother become a team. And I worry I am not going to be able to live up to being the mom Willem knows and loves.

Warm December chicken petting.

And then I worry that I’m going to sell this new little guy short, that he’ll just be along for the ride. And I know this is all silly and, really, pointless to fret about because, in TWO WEEKS (+/- two weeks, of course), Baby #2 will be here.

We’ll be fine, we’ll be great even, and when it comes right down to it, I absolutely cannot wait to meet this kiddo.

20160116. 38 weeks.