*****Warning--birth story to follow. If you're squeamish you might not want to continue, though I'm not going to give _too_ many details. If you're just dang bored with all those birthing stories floating around the web these days you may want to skip the following. It's long and not too action packed. But there are those that I think are interested and I'm writing this down so I don't forget someday!
I'll start out by giving you a short summed up version:
I
almost waited too long.
And here goes:
Sandy was due to come on the 11th, a thursday. The 11th came and went and no baby. I had actually been hoping the baby would come a week or so early so that we could easier make the trip to Utah for thanksgiving. But no, he has a mind of his own.
And besides the fact that Lechelle (our sis-in-law) came out to help that week in case we needed her, it was ok that he didn't come on the 11th. It was a super busy workday for Kris, and friday was also.
So friday night we went out to dinner with some friends and played games at their house while Lechelle took care of Max for us (it was so nice!)
Then saturday morning came, and I work up feeling some contractions. No more though than I'd been feeling for about the last 3 weeks.
But they kept coming every once in a while. And they kept getting more intense. I started timing them at one point when Kris took Max to karate, but as soon as I would start timing them they'd basically stop completely. So it would be like one an hour or something.
But they did keep getting more painful.
The fact that I couldn't eat much along with the stronger contractions did make me think something was probably going to happen relatively soon, but I thought maybe in the middle of the night. So we let our friend who was going to watch Max for us know there was a good chance she'd be seeing him.
Then our realtor came over, we had seen a house we liked in the neighborhood and wanted to work up a nice low offer on it to see if the seller would bite. We spent about an hour or so working on that, and I only had one contraction the whole time. But after she left it started getting even a little more intense. The boys went on a bike ride and I watched football for a while. Then when they were back I went and lay down and tried to time the contractions again. They really hurt by then. They were about 10 min apart at the closest, so I just kept thinking that we weren't close enough. The last thing I wanted to do was go to the hospital and get sent back like happened with Max. That is just a drag.
--Quick aside--I had thought I probably wanted to do a natural birth this time. There are just so many benefits to it, and since women have been doing it for thousands of years it seemed doable. But I figured that if I got to the hospital when most of the early labor was done it would maximize my chances of actually going through with it and not asking for medication--
So I got out of bed at some point and I told Kris there was a chance we should go to the hospital soon. He went to feed Max some dinner and left me to make sure my hospital bag was complete. But I couldn't do much. Suddenly it seemed like the contractions were coming and coming and not stopping. Like maybe they were a few minutes apart, but so long and strong that there was no break in between really. And it was not fun. I called to Kris and told him we needed to GO. And we went. We called my friend who was watching Max and she was able to meet us at the hospital and take Max in the parking lot. That was nice because by that time I was basically in tears, things hurt so bad!
It was 6PM when we got to the hospital. I couldn't walk and had to be pushed in a wheel chair which was a little embarrassing, but that's how it was at that point. They started to try to check me in. Then one of the nurses noticed my face at one point and asked if I was "feeling pressure." I said YES! And then they rushed me up to the OB triage without checking in. (I think I heard somebody yelling at them about this at some point, but oh well.)
Somebody checked me in somehow and I'm not sure how it happened. This is how my bracelet ended up looking:

They might have asked me how to spell my name at some point and that's what I could've said, I was in pretty sad shape and people kept asking me questions I didn't have the breath to answer.
They checked me and said I was at a 6. Then my water broke. Then they left and didn't come back. Forever. It felt like ages, and things just kept getting more and more intense and painful. I was dying for some meds I tell you. Then suddenly I felt that pushing sensation. And having done this once before I recognized it. And I yelled. I yelled about needing to push and finally a nurse came in to check me, soooo slow and realized I was at a 10! So they finally moved me to an actual room and the on call doctor showed up.
Because good old Sandy was so big I think it took more pushing than everybody expected since they kept telling me "This is the push!" and " Just one more push!!" and it was all a load of bunk. It was LOTS of pushes. Crazy lots of pushes.
And as you've probably guessed, it was way way too late for an epidural, so I got what I was shooting for. I forced myself to go natural. And I lived.
Sandy was finally finally born at 7:30PM. It was a crazy short time from when we entered the hospital to that point, but it honestly felt like forever to me.
The great thing was, Max was able to come and see him that night instead of waiting until the next day. Max was probably there by 8 or 8:30 holding him and being involved. It was very sweet. Max had told Kris on the way to the hospital "Tomorrow is going to be the greatest day of my life!" I thought that was so cute.
I think I fared way better with this delivery than with Max's. I think the epidural really slowed things down with Max and made it into more of an all day ordeal. I'm glad I had it though because I think that first babies are the toughest, and it would've been really painful and traumatizing without it.
But when you look at pictures of me after Max was born vs. pictures after Sandy, I look so much better in the Sandy ones. More alive, way less beat. It really doesn't make any sense. I was going to post a photo from Max's birth just for comparison, but they were all so bad I couldn't bring myself to do it. So you'll just have to make do with the ones from Sandy and imagine how awful the others are.


All in all it was a crazy insane quick experience, and I was so glad to have it over with. And so glad that Sandy was finally here and we knew if he was a boy or a girl! That was worth all the waiting.
So there you go, longest birth story ever. And the moral? Just don't wait any longer than I did unless you want to have a 9lb 3 oz 21 inch baby in the car in front of your six year old. Yikes.