The First Page of His Story

I went into labor on Labor Day.

1 PM: It was September 3rd and it was warm; I had decided to take my overzealous dog on an afternoon stroll. Our neighborhood stroll became a long walk, ending in a visit to stinky beach in Alderbrook. I kept taking mental notes of how my Braxton Hicks seemed to dislike my high-paced sauntering. They seemed to let up as I rested. Either that, or I was completely distracted with how much fun Liam was having gallivanting in the river and chasing all things winged. I thought about how things would change when the baby came. I took another mental note to just soak in the sunshiney quiet afternoon, just me and my dog.

2:30 PM:  Liam finally got tired out. William was filling in at the foster home in Alderbrook that day, so we just walked the half-mile to his work to visit. Cue Braxton Hicks. I started counting the time between each contraction, since I hadn't remembered feeling them so regularly. 7 minutes apart on the dot. By the time I got to the house, I had had about 5 contractions equally regular. I decided to sit and see if things would calm down again like they had before, but without success. William prompted me to  call L&D at Providence to see what they would have me do. Lucky for me, it was my personal OB that was the doctor on call. She advised that while I was on the boarder of being symptomatic of early labor, it may also dissipate with more rest. We decided the best plan was for me to rest, shower, and continue counting my contractions. She told me to call had things continued or progressed.

4 PM: Despite my attempts to stop my contractions with showering, water-drinking and laying in bed, they kept coming. 7 minutes, 8 minutes, 6 minutes apart. Though consistent and annoying, they weren't painful. I was thankful for that. William got home from work and asked me what I wanted to do. We decided to just be cautious and head in to Seaside to get checked out. If nothing else, their checking me will put my mind at ease knowing that everything was normal, baby was fine, and we were still right on schedule. We stopped to get gas and we stopped to get a McDonald's cheeseburger, my recent craving of choice. (Gross, I know.)

5 PM: We got to the hospital and got checked in. We were welcomed warmly by the nursing staff who ushered us to a cozy yet spacious room. To my pleasant surprise, The nurse who had given us a hospital tour just a few weeks earlier, Marty, was on duty. Though we had only met once before, she greeted me with a hug and a big smile like we had known each other for a long time. I appreciated that. They took my vitals and hooked my belly up to two monitors- one for baby's heartbeat, one for contractions. This was the first time I got nervous and excited about labor, feeling like it was finally, actually happening. Will's feelings seemed mutual.

6 PM: The doctor came. She didn't seem too concerned when she saw my contraction chart- she said it was likely a bout of false labor. But for safe measure, she told us she would check my cervix and see if there were any changes. I was dilated to a 2 already and was 80% effaced. She seemed very surprised by my progression. We were too. The doctor let us know she would be coming back in a few hours to check me again. She said it was not uncommon for people to stay at a 2 for long periods of time, so she wasn't concerned yet.

8:30 PM: I had dilated to a 3. 90% effaced. Doctor said she wasn't comfortable sending me home, and that we'd  be staying overnight. This was the moment I knew that we wouldn't be leaving the hospital without a baby. William and I tried to get as much sleep as possible. I don't know if he succeeded; I certainly didn't. The anticipation of what tomorrow would bring was too overwhelming to sleep.

7:00 AM: Dr. Greco came, and I had progressed to a 4. She said the words, "We are going to commit you to having this baby today." William and I looked at each other and smiled, both knowing what the other was thinking. As she was leaving the room, she said, "You both are going to be mommy and daddy at some point today!" They felt weird coming out of her mouth for some reason, even though I knew it to be true. I got on the phone and got ahold of our photographer Caroline, who happened to be in town for just one more day before leaving for a big trip. She came to the hospital within a few hours. Good timing, God.

1 PM: They started my antibiotic IV. We waited. And waited. I was still dilating. My contractions were consistent, but still staying 7 minutes apart. The doctor broke my water not long after to bring my contractions closer together. Nehemiah had already decided that he wanted to do things his own way, I suppose.

5 PM: I got an epidural. The anesthesiologist had said that complications were very rare, and that it shouldn't hurt at all. That was right before he "twinged" my nerve on my right side, twice. It hurt. Lucky me. I cried (probably the hormones) and Will held me like a good husband should. After the medicine started working, I felt much better. My right side was significantly more numb than my left, though.

6 PM: They started pitocin. I got nervous, excited, scared, everything. Indescribable.

8 PM: With a room-full of family and friends and at 8 cm dilated (to my knowledge), my body suddenly knew it was go time. I cleared the room. The doctor checked me. Yep, we were at a 10 and ready to go. William, the doctor, three nurses, Caroline and myself all went to work doing our jobs in the quiet and dim of Room 202. I kept looking across the room at my whiteboard that had the verse Isaiah 26:3 written on it, "You will keep her in perfect peace, whose mind is steadfast, because she trusts in You." He did keep me in perfect peace.

9:01 PM: The first moment I heard my baby's voice. I heard William start crying. I heard the doctor say the famous and anticipated words, "It's a boy". I heard William say that we had a son. Everything else because a blur. I held my child on my chest for the first of uncountable times. I held his head and his hands and cried. William held us. We cried. We laughed. We counted his fingers and toes and admired his perfection. William looked at me and said, "Nehemiah."
Our family became three.