Birth Story...

I never intended to write a birth story but as the weeks pass I am forgetting those little details.  Be prepared this is long... Feel free to look at the cute pictures because this is more for my benefit than anyone else's.     

So here is it goes...

"When should we have this baby?" The doctor said as he flipped through his calendar.  Matt and I had developed this elaborate naming system based on feast days within the church and other random dates that had some significance to us.  So we both looked at each other, quick to not yell out the date associated with the name each one of us liked, hoping the doctor would just assign us a date and time.  Apparently the awkward silence was enough so Dr. Lowder was like "I'm on call this Saturday."        

Funny how you can be waiting for something for 39 weeks and cursing every pregnancy symptom toward the end and yet when you have a date it seems so close.  Almost too close.  I anticipated working until that Friday but with news that our baby would be here on Saturday I frantically finished all of my projects and bid farewell.  The next night a troop of women gathered at our house prepared to cook.  My mom, grandma, aunt Chris, and Dianna began to cut vegetables and grill chicken like it was their job.  My cousin Jennifer, God love her, does not know how to cook so she gave my girls and I haircuts.

Saturday's date was December 15th!  Unreal, because 11 years before Matt and I were married.  If that was not enough it is also Matt's birthday.  While obviously it was always a possibility that our baby would be born on the 15th but I never thought it would actually happen!  On December 14th, Matt and I celebrated our eleventh wedding anniversary.  We went to Tucanos Brazilian restaurant.  I was secretly hoping that Matt would pick this over our favorite Italian place because I was planning on ordering it the next night so we could eat as we held our baby boy (he had other plans.)  There was a 30 minute wait so, as all our dates usually entail, we went to Walmart.  We bought the girls Christmas presents but of course they didn't have everything so we went to Toys r us and Fred Meyer.  The entire car trip the buzzer that let's you know when your table was ready yelled at us that we were out of area.  Good gracious I now know why people don't steal those things.  After a wonderful dinner stuffing ourselves we headed home.           

Early the next morning we headed to the hospital.  Bag in hand, we checked into triage for our induction.  The brightly colored half sheets of paper that always annoyed the crap out of me while I was in labor did not even phase me this time.  But seriously, when in labor who wants to fill out a form that is neon pink and how broke is the hospital that they can't give you a full sheet of paper?!  They checked my progress and hooked me up to the monitors.  Just as I anticipated still 1 cm and no real contractions.  We waited and waited for a room and more importantly a nurse so they could break my water and start the pitocin.
At 10:30, we were finally admitted into a labor and delivery room.  Our nurse came in on her day off and was kind of bossy.  O.k. so she was the head nurse, but still.  After another mother delivered her baby we were reassigned a new and more gentle nurse.  She asked me my labor plans and I told her I really wanted to try to do this naturally but was also real about not liking pain and not afraid to admit I can be a wuss (i.e have the anesthesiologist on speed dial.)  I have to say I am proud of myself I "hypnobirthed"my way through the contractions and no matter what Matt tells you I was not sleeping.  I honestly can say that the best feeling ever was when a contraction would let up.  Relief surely is the absence of pain.  The next 4 hours consisted of a lot of HGTV and TLC watching mixed in with some walking.  I wanted to labor in the tub and still believe if they let me I would have been able to cross something off my bucket list.      

The baby's heart rate would drop when I had a contraction and because of this they wanted me to be monitored all the time.  At 5 p.m. I was at 7 cm and a station -1.  For the next two hours my contractions intensified and were almost unbearable.  Surely I was making progress but when the nurse checked me at 7 p.m. I was still at a 7 and some how the baby had retreated.  What the heck?!  I was so tired and so disappointed that is when the anesthesiologist was called.         

Not going to lie, I was very disappointed.  After a minor breakdown the most jovial anesthesiologist walked in.  The desire to have a natural birth was because of a rough labor with Clara.  The most traumatic part was the epidural.  I expressed my concerns and the doctor was like "Do you have a name for this little guy because after this epidural you will be naming him after me!"  Two seconds later I hear and uh oh.  Needless to say we were not going to have a Brock in our family any time soon.  He had hit a vein.  I did appreciate how nice and optimistic he was I did not appreciate seeing my blood in the spinal tap.  Take two worked.  With both Ben and Clara I had bum epidurals and the nurses blew my veins out putting in the IV.  Do you see why a birthing room sounds so sweet?  Yet 10 minutes later I was asking Matt why in the world did I wait so long.  I took a nap and the next thing I knew I could feel pressure.  Our doctor was on his way.  Literally 2 pushes and less than 5 minutes later our baby boy entered into the world.    

More pictures from that day here!

I instantly fell in love!  How is it possible that you wonder will I love this little guy as much as my beautiful daughters? Even if he is bald or has his daddy's nose?  And then you love him more.  More than you ever thought possible!  More than your body can contain and you snuggle and grasp and cry over this little person  that God entrusted to you.  He came out sucking his thumb and the nicest shade of red.  He was healthy and happy.  More than we could ever have hoped for.  And of course he had hair and his daddy's nose. 

  

One thing I am so grateful for, was the hospital let us spend the next hour or so together as a family.  Our baby was placed on my chest, skin to skin, for what seemed like an eternity.  No rushing him off to weigh or put drops in his eyes.  Just bonding time.  Our champion nurser was already sniffing around for his mama.  I nursed him on and off for the next half an hour and examined every square inch of him.   

Matt and my mom also got to hold him.  How special!  I am glad that the hospital heard the feedback from parents and has made this time after delivery so special.  Matt texted people and read me all of the congratulatory responses.  People began asking "what's his name" and "how much does he weigh?"  While the nurses weighed, measured, recorded and prodded him.  We had to decide on a name.  According to the elaborate system he would be Matthew Thomas but he was a Benedict and honestly, he always was.  I just needed to know that Matt loved his name.  I know my husband and I know that he would have let me name him Jordan or Roman or any other name I wanted at that moment.  But I could tell that the name he loved for the last 5 or so years was what he truly wanted.  So happy birthday sweetie, you finally got a turn to name one our beautiful children.  Benedict Thomas was born at 9:40 p.m., weighing in at 8 lbs 3 oz and measuring 19 3/4 inches long.