Introducing Maverick James
No scheduling or preparation could have helped me plan for this post until our little guy decided to arrive on his time. And he literally could not have come at a more perfect time. Six days before his due date and only 3 days before the Grandmas arrived.
Friday, September 1st, 2017 at 12:24pm
From our hospital room, we watched the sun light up the city of Ballard-not a cloud in the sky. Of course the first signs of him coming started the night before around 9pm. I was in denial. “These are only Braxton Hicks-don’t get your hopes up.”
Earlier that day I had my 39 week appointment and they did a membrane sweep. Not gonna go into detail on what that is, but it’s a common thing for your midwife or doctor to do in the final weeks of pregnancy to potentially get the body going into labor. Basically, I don’t know how you could not go into labor after what they do down there. And turns out it worked for me and Mav!
Brad and I went on our normal walk that evening and added a few rounds of going up and down stairs to maybe get things moving. That was around 8:30pm. We head home, watch some Silicon Valley and Parks and Rec (our routine week night entertainment) and sure enough 9pm was GO time.
Slight contractions roughly every 10-15 minutes apart. But again Miss Denial over here. I thought maybe it was just some bad gas. Brad still gives me a hard time for this. By the time we go to bed, my contractions are a solid 10 minutes apart and I can’t stay in bed through them. I let Brad sleep until about midnight as I sat on the couch in nervous anticipation wondering if this was the real deal. And then bam-they jump from 10 minutes apart to 4 minutes. I wait three rounds of this before grabbing Brad. He gets up and is so excited.
My worst fear is that we would get to the hospital and they would send me home, so I wanted to stay home as long as possible before calling in. So what do we do? Chores of course! Brad’s washing dishes, I’m cleaning up around the house, we made the bed, cleaned Agnes’ litter box and made sure she would be taken care of IF we were to have a baby like TODAY. They say to rest as much as you can through the contractions-fat chance. Working around the house was the only thing that could distract me.
Ok. Contractions are roughly 3-4 minutes apart. Let’s call the midwife. She says to give it another hour. So I take a shower, blow dry my hair, of course pausing for every contraction-they are getting more intense now. We call the midwife again and say we’re coming in!!
We arrive at the hospital around 2:45am and HOORAY! I’m at 4cm already! And here’s where the controversy may begin.
Epidural VS. Natural.
And here’s where my biggest eye roll in the world comes in.
Who flippin cares how you get that baby out-just get him out healthy and happy. And for me that was with drugs. Any drugs that could help me be present and awake to experience an epic, life-changing event. I insisted on not being worn out by the time my son arrived into my arms. I wanted to remember every moment.
So the goal was to get to 5cm (just halfway) and then bring on the epidural!!! And it went just as planned. Can you believe that?! Everyone tells you-”It’s never going to go as planned.” Well then maybe I’m the first woman on the planet where it all went perfectly. These aren’t bragging rights, this is all grace and mercy from the Lord. The contractions were strong, and I requested the epidural maybe after only being there 30-45 minutes at the hospital.
Bless that sweet anesthesiologist as he came in within 5 minutes, set me up and I was on clouds some short 20 minutes later. He leaves, the nurse tells us we better rest up and they’ll let us know when it’s time to push.
Sure thing. Sounds like a fabulous plan!
[ last photo of just the two of us ]
And that is what we did. Took a little nap-watched the sun light up our room, ordered some gummy bears, and at 10:30am my midwife comes in and says it’s time to push! Yes Ma’am’!
After two and a half hours of pushing, our sweet baby boy arrived.
One of the weirdest moments was when my midwife brought him to my hands and I put him on my chest. He was really warm and still grey. I had felt a connection to him the entire pregnancy, but for a split second I felt distant from him as I held him for the first time. Who is this kid? Why isn’t he crying? He’s mine? And then as I look over at Brad filled with tears and repeatedly saying, “Oh my gosh, oh my gosh” the connection was back.
The little knees and feet that rolled across my stomach amazing his Daddy and I are now touchable. His little nose that I stared at daily on the sonogram printout is now pressed against me breathing in oxygen for his first time. And I hear his first cries as he snuggles into me and I own the title “Mom” for the first time to my son, Maverick James.