Party of Four

And just like that, we became a party of four. In hardly more time than it takes for you to read this, our little boy made his much anticipated debut and our hearts expanded beyond our imaginations.

I've heard the second comes faster than the first. They ain't kiddin'. Burke was 3 days overdue, so I wasn't surprised when this guy wasn't here shortly after his 9/4 due date.

Regardless, I started to replicate a similar pattern that seemed to work on Burke's eviction: swimming, sitting on the yoga ball, and the infamous labor inducing smoothie. (Sidenote - y'all...this thing has been pinned over 12 THOUSAND times on Pinterest. I'm not entirely sure it works. So I am now terrified of the overdue mama mafia I may have created in case they're out to get me, pitchforks and all.)

I thought we might get to share a birthday, but when mine came & went without any signs of labor, I got anxious. I kept eating lots of pineapple and dates and tried some spicy cookie things that were a total failure. He wasn't budging.

Luckily, my mom was in town so she helped me stay distracted. She drove in from Arkansas "just in case" so she wouldn't miss this one's arrival. She joined me for my 9/7 check-up followed by pizza with extra oregano and 1-hour foot massages. For dinner, we had Indian street food. I started having contractions, but they dissipated once I went to bed. That was not the day. But, she got some good time in with B, playing blasters in the back yard, testing out their head lamps, and learning B's newest trick: mooning! 

Gran getting to know Grandson #2

After I was officially 1 week overdue, we had an appointment with the perinatologist on 9/12 to have an ultrasound and non-stress test. They needed to check amniotic fluid levels, take measurements, and make sure the kiddo responded to stimuli appropriately.

My biggest concern, beyond the healthy stats, was this kid's size. If you recall, Burke was 9 lbs, 7 oz at 3 days late. His size resulted in a prolonged labor and almost an emergency c-section that I thankfully avoided since dude was crowning as the c-section team scoped out the situation. Recovery was rough to say the least. We were now pushing over a week late, and I was terrified of how big this melon might be growing to be. The ultrasound confirmed that the babe's head was measuring "only" 9.6 cm...leaving a whopping 0.4 cm of "space" for him to fit through the birth canal at full 10cm dilation. Seems like a pretty tight margin for error, even if we're talking the Metric system.

They confirmed everything was a-ok in utero and that there wasn't a reason to induce. The doc's actual words were "Most women don't go over 43 weeks, so just hang in there. We'll start seeing you 2x/week if you pass 42 weeks." Don't go OVER FORTY THREE WEEKS? Oh boy. Hunker down and make the ice packs. I went to bed thinking we still had quite a ways to go before we met this kid.

He had other plans. Here's how it all went down...

At 4:00am, contractions woke me up. Nothing terrible, much like some of the false labor I'd experienced earlier on. But they were repetitive enough for me to time them. They were 30 seconds to a minute long, and coming every 6-10 minutes. But not intense yet.

4:30am: I woke Jason up to let him know I'd been having consistent contraction for the past half hour and that he might want to shower just in case we needed to head to hospital. He did. Contractions kept coming at the same pace and intensity. Jason woke my mom up to let her know we might be going to the hospital, so she started getting up so she could be home with Burke.

5:00am: I got out of the shower - which felt amazing - and contractions were only lasting 25-40 seconds now, but coming every 2-3 minutes. We called the midwife who advised us to wait it out until they were lasting a minute and were growing in intensity. We live close to the hospital, so she wasn't worried about us waiting until the last minute. A shift change was coming up at 7, so she promised to alert the next midwife on call that we might be coming in.

J packed the car, woke up my mom, and we prepped for the hospital. It was only 5 minutes down the road, so we weren't in a rush. I'd hoped to try laboring in the labor pool, and they'd told me it could take 1-2 hours to be filled, so I didn't mind getting there on the early side.


6:35am: We decided to head on to the hospital. Burke would be waking up soon, so we figured it'd be better to get out of the house before he woke up.

6:45am: At the hospital, J dropped me off in front and I headed up to reception to get checked in while he parked. The friendly security guard greeted me and said "Are we gonna have a baby today?" I responded with "That better be the reason this guy woke me up so early!"

No one was at the desk, so we had to wait a bit. Finally, got all checked in. I requested a labor tub, and she told me just to let the nurses know once I'm called back. I should have plenty of time. They were going to work on getting me in as soon as they could. Apparently, we were right in the middle of the 7am shift change. I went to the restroom and felt like I was going to be nauseous.

7:02am: My ID bracelet notes our admission time as 7:02am. I waited while J went to get the bags.
Contractions continued occasionally, but I was mostly relaxed, drinking water while I waited.

7:14am: I took this photo in the waiting room and texted my sisters at 7:16. We exchanged a few excited texts. Shortly after, J brought up the bags. It was probably another 15 minutes before we were called back to triage.

7:30am: They call us back. As we walk through the triage door, a contraction hits. I pause a minute before continuing down the hallway. The nurse smiles and directs us to the triage room directly across the hall from the nurse's station where everyone is greeting each other as they come onto their new shifts for the day.

I don the flattering hospital gown and wait on the gurney. The doctor stops by to say hello, and we joke about how we just saw him less than 18 hours prior. The midwife was on her way in.

A nurse comes in to get my vitals and says "alright, we'll see if we're gonna keep you here or not."

The midwife joins us and asks if I have a copy of my water birth certificate since it's apparently not in my file. They need that to fill the tub. Yes, I have it. Great. She puts her gloves on to perform the cervical exam. A contraction hits once I lay back on the gurney. That one hurt. I squeezed J's hand. There were 2 more like that.

7:50pm: After the cervical exam the midwife said, "Well, I don't think you're gonna get that tub."

I said, "Oh. Where are we?"

She said, "Oh," she says calmly with a twinge of disbelief, "we're at 9" and yells out the door to the nurse's station, "She's going to have this baby - we're at 9cm with a bulging bag. She needs a room now!"

J texts my sisters that I'm 9cm dilated at 7:50am.

Pandemonium ensues. (Spoiler alert: in the next 5 minutes, my water breaks, I am transported down the hall, transitioned from gurney to bed, and pop out a baby.)

Another contraction. Flurry of nurses. Lots of nurses talking. "She's going to 6. Room 6 is hers. Is 6 ready? Take her to 6. Get room 6 ready." Water breaks as they push the gurney out the triage room door. Nurses start talking of meconium, "significant meconium," "notify the NICU." I feel the baby crowning. The army of nurses led by the midwife navigate the gurney down the hallway to Delivery Room 6. I'm pretty sure I'm gonna have a baby in the hallway.

J follows like a pack mule with all of our stuff in tow, not missing a step.

They wheel me into Room 6.

Nurses scramble to find the equipment. Apparently Room 6 is not quite ready for welcoming a baby. "Where's a table? Can we get one from another room stat?!" "Where's the IV?" "We aren't doing an IV - no time." This sweet sweet midwife is running the show, no question. I remember being very surprised by her assertiveness, yet politeness, since I'd only encountered her tender side thus far.

Now the nurses have to convince me to move from gurney to bed. Excuse me? Contractions are coming quickly and furiously. You want me to what?!? They might as well be asking me to pole vault in Rio. Between contractions, I manage to shift one foot and one cheek and one hand to the bed, but another contraction hits before I can fully make the move.

The midwife calmly explains to me (or so J remembers...it's all a bit hazy from here out) that I can't deliver the baby with one butt cheek on the gurney and one on the bed...the baby will fall on the floor between the two beds. Seems I'm in a predicament.

I remember one of the nurses encouraging me to "just" lift my butt up a little bit more and scoot over. Seems simple enough. Unless you're holding an 8-pound bowling ball between your legs with only 0.4cm room for error of said ball falling on the floor while excruciating tidal waves of pain wash over you every 30 seconds.

Somehow, I go for it and swing the left half of my body from gurney to bed as a contraction ended. They are trying to get me into position to push. I said something about "No, I think I'm gonna do it this way." The midwife says something about not having sterile gloves on (again, the room isn't quite set up for this). Instead of settling into the bed, my body takes over, and the momentum from swinging from the gurney flips me all the way over onto my hands and knees. J asks the midwife if he should coach me to push or anything. I lunge into a contraction and the baby is out.

TIME OF BIRTH: 7:55AM

Now that the baby is out, he's still attached via the cord, and I'm on all fours. There are some awkward gymnastics required to situate everyone where they need to be, and the room goes quiet for a millisecond. I don't think anyone can believe this all just happened. Everyone catches their breath and then picks back up the frenzy. Where are the cord clamps. What's the meconium situation? I need scissors. What about the NICU? Why don't we have any baby blankets in here?

7:58am: J texts my sisters, "He's here" which is met with responses of disbelief.

Meanwhile, I hold the beautiful baby boy against my chest, him just as calm and perfect as can be. I think he's a little shell-shocked to be on the outside so quickly, too. J cuts the cord once it stops pulsing (and they track down some scissors). We look at each other like "weren't we just in the waiting room?"

Labor stopped as suddenly as it started, and they give me a shot of pitocin in my leg to help deliver the placenta. As soon as the babe latches my breast, my uterus contracts expelling the placenta.

Minimal bleeding, no significant tearing, no pain meds (what?!?), no stitches. Shortly thereafter, I was able to walk myself to the restroom.

Not only was there no time for an IV, there was no time for paperwork. So, once everything is calm, the nurse starts reviewing the standard questions. All which are comical at this point: are you allergic to latex? Any blood thinner medication? Family history of xyz? Fortunately, none of the above.

Phrases like "you're made for this mama" and "I've never seen it happen so fast my entire career" echo throughout the room as various nurses tend to their duties. Before long, we were headed up to the recovery floor to soon meet Big Brother.

While an unmedicated birth was something I'd once aspired to, it wasn't something I went looking for. With B, I had grand expectations of how "my" birth would go. All of these ideals in my head of what I was going to "try for" and "work towards" or whatever. Most of which flew out the window during labor's transition and excruciating pain. Then, after Burke was born so large, I was quite scared of the idea of a medication-free delivery.

For this adventure, I was committed to listening to my body for whatever it needed at the moment. Epidural, fine. Water labor, fine. And whatever may appeal in between. It was going to be a game time decision with no preconceived notions or self-imposed ideals or judgment.

But, this accidental experience has been such an unexpected blessing. I never felt the childbirth hangover. We were discharged from the hospital 30 hours after delivery. I've been able to keep up with the toddler (to a reasonable degree) - actually going on a walk to ride his new bike and going to his soccer game within 5 days of baby bro's arrival. I didn't really exercise or anything this pregnancy, so I can't attribute the quick recovery to being in excellent shape - far from it. A smaller baby, reasonable expectations, incredibly short labor, miraculous Mother Nature, and other things all contributed to this be a far less traumatic labor than what I'd previously experienced. Both incredibly special, both so unique.

Besides no time for medical intervention, everything happened so quickly that the swell of emotion I expected once they laid him on my chest was replaced with a degree of shock and an almost eery air of calmness. The absence of the physical exertion made it seem too easy. Like my body was saying "okay, now what?" I keep waiting for the emotional train to hit me, and I know it will in due time. It will hit me off guard and overpower me, and that is okay. Once my brain catches up with my body and realizes the feat we have mastered, it will likely humble me to my knees. In the meantime, I will continue to be in awe of what our bodies are capable of, of how God designed them to create, nurture, and bring forth life, of the newborn's instinct to nurse from its mother.

"Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, for I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn for me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your soul. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light." 
Matthew 11:28-30

I would be remiss if I didn't acknowledge the healthcare workers who supported me that morning. A few weeks before my due date, the hospital surprisingly revoked some of my doctor's privileges. Reasons were never disclosed, and it seemed like a political fight more than anything of medical concern. Some presumed it was related to the recent court judgment against this Alabama hospital. Protests were planned, media was enlisted, and, while the policies in question didn't directly affect me, I feared the environment between my practice and the hospital might not be as collaborative as it once was. I was afraid my baby would be born in the midst of tensions, or worse yet, used as a pawn in a political game should the opportunity present itself. Fortunately, the hospital provided clarifications and reinstated the privileges shortly thereafter, thereby calming the waters leading to my delivery. But it was unnerving to say the least. While the practice and the hospital still have further agreements to iron out, I cannot say enough positive things about my experience.

The sweet hat handmade by the hospital volunteer auxiliary.

The midwife was expertly prepared to facilitate my delivery. I know she didn't expect to find me dilated to 9cm when she entered that triage room, but she did not skip a beat from that point forward. She commanded the delivery room with a calm assertiveness in the midst of potential chaos. Her gentle spirit hung in the air, and I had zero doubts baby & I were in expert hands. 

Had I delivered at another facility or with another practice, there's a strong chance I would have likely done so on my back in "the right" position. Likely delaying labor, tearing, or requiring additional pushing or intervention. Instead, I met the little guy in the quickest possible amount of time with minimal resistance. The team put our safety & urgency above typical protocol. I felt like I was able to birth the way God built me to, and that's empowering. And to know that a team of women in that room supported my choice to do so was liberating. 

I am grateful for a healthy boy. I am grateful for a strong, supportive partner. I am grateful for the proud big brother that is my firstborn. I am grateful for the delivery team. I am grateful for this experience. And I am grateful that I get to "do life" as this party of four. I cannot imagine it any other way.

Time flies...B's first birthday

It seems like just last week that we were headed to the hospital in hopes of soon meeting our babe. I would've never guessed I could love so much, yet love so much more every single day. And be exhausted at the same time. Today's Atlanta weather makes me oh-so-thankful we met him this time last year instead of 2014. 

While life for the Velmers is completely different than it was this time last year, it is most definitely all for the better. A "catastrophic" ice storm or "national emergency" wasn't gonna keep us from celebrating our favorite little fella.

After a blueberry pancake breakfast, we focused on some serious playtime while Dad tended to some work stuff. Someone was very happy when Dad emerged for fun time.

After a solid nap, it was party time.

And, for the cake? Lemon blueberry cake with blueberry jam filling and lemon buttercream frosting, topped with fresh blueberries, of course.

the poor little cake doesn't know what's coming

really dad, i can eat all of these blueberries? with no bib??

oh yeah. nom nom nom nom nom.

I think he would've been perfectly content to just eat the blueberries, but that wouldn't be as much fun. After removing some of the berries, we got down to business.

mmm. this stuff is tasty.

hey dad! there's BERRIES in here!!!!!

And, sometimes cake is so good you just want to sit in it.

Once the cake saw its demise by derriere, we cleaned up and got to some presents.

A dump truck, a swing, and a hammerin' bench - not a bad haul for the cutest one year old on the block. A few out-of-town gifts are held up due to Snowmaggedon, so it'll be the birthday that keeps on givin'. That's the best kind anyway.

Still Waters

When you're ejected from a raft in the middle of whitewater, they tell you to assume the whitewater swim position: floating on your back, looking at your toes pointed downstream & lifted out of the water so they don't get caught on any trees or rocks below the surface. Occasionally, you'll be tossed out of the raft during a rapid and be consumed by a hydraulic hole. A hydraulic hole is where the water endlessly circulates over itself, creating the rapid, kind of like a washing machine. Really, the only way to survive this is to ball yourself up into a tight little ball, protect your head, and pray to God that the hole spits you out in calmer water downstream. This is what I did for about 10 weeks, praying to God that we come out better on the other end.

via luvocracy.com

I've been MIA from blogland for several months. Partly because I haven't had much time in front of the computer, and partly because I had so many thoughts running through my head I wasn't sure where to start. And I didn't think anyone would appreciate that stream of consciousness--I could hardly handle it as it was happening, much less re-living it via the keyboard, and -gag- sharing it with the world and -heaven forbid- someone ask me about it. But, I'm in a much better place now and can share.

Under Water
So, if you missed it, we made a human. And he's the cutest, sweetest little guy in the world.

photo by Anne Manning

He was quite the cranky mess for the first 3 months of his life, which we now realize was probably just because we were starving the little guy. I get cranky when I don't eat, and he's his mother's son. So, maternity leave was hardly restful. I don't mean the part about barely finding time to shower or eat. Those 12 weeks were the hardest I'd ever experienced. Mornings were usually OK, but I dreaded the afternoons. The evenings were miserable. We couldn't get him to sleep without bouncing on a yoga ball, and that wasn't feasible for me after delivering such a big baby. So, all I could do was constantly nurse him to soothe him. I guess I had grand visions of frolicking with my new babe, giggling away, starting a dynamite baby book, and getting some long-overdue chores done. Oh! And antiquing. Yes, me and my new baby were going to go antiquing.

Hah. Who was I kidding? What was I thinking?

It was highly, highly, highly stressful. Combine a 24/7 screaming baby who wouldn't sleep with the "baby blues" or potential bits of post-partum depression, and you have me sitting on the stairs in tears calling J in the middle of the day to come home. It was awful. I was drowning & didn't know what to do or who could help.

photo by Anne Manning

As much as I didn't want to leave the little guy's side & return to work, I was looking forward to the adult interaction and the opportunity to focus on something beyond feeding times.


Ejected 
For about 6 months before I had the baby, I'd been talking to my leadership team about a new challenge. My current role's scope was diminishing, and I was excited about a new opportunity that would give me a chance to learn something new, have a direct impact on the business, and potentially open a lot of doors for my career. When I returned, nothing had been finalized, just the rumor of a "re-org" going to happen.  In the meantime, I was just to "sit tight" until the new roles were finalized. Alrighty...gave me a nice way to ease back into things after being out of it for 12 weeks.

So, back to work I went, only to realize that there was no way I could make it home in time to pick up the baby from his caregiver. Since we still hadn't been accepted into any of the daycares we'd applied to (in August of 2012!!!), we'd arranged a nanny-share situation with our neighbor. It was going great, except that I simply couldn't make it home in one hour. One hour. Hardly 17 miles, but over one hour. And my mood wasn't great at the end of that drive. I left the office at 5:00 and if I wasn't close by 5:45, Jason would leave his office early and pick up the babe. This obviously wasn't sustainable. We'd been talking about selling the house pre-baby, and now it seemed like the perfect time. Our neighborhood home sales were on the rise, so why not try? We listed the house and were under contract in about 5 days. Wait. What??

Two days after going under contract to sell the house, I learned that my position was actually being eliminated and that there were other internal opportunities I should apply for. Hmmm?? That was quite a shock. I knew I'd be changing roles, but having to apply for them opened a whole new world of unknown. On top of the already unstable post-partum emotions, it was not a pretty sight. Self pity, self doubt, anger, resentment, jealousy, uncertainty, all of those ugly emotions reared their ugly heads. We wondered if selling our house was the right thing to do.

We knew we could afford our home on a single income, so we tried to cancel the contract. Unfortunately, the buyer wasn't interested in cancelling the contract even though he's a "good guy" and "wanted to do the right thing." We weren't interested in paying him a profit to cancel the contract, and we saw sign after sign that our street was going downhill...so we moved forward with the sale of the house. Trust me...there were many iterations of this.


Swimming in a Hydraulic Hole
The next 10 weeks were spent searching for jobs, searching for short-term leases, looking for houses, talking to recruiters, following up with daycares, coordinating with our nanny-share folks, packing boxes, and moving. After rounds & rounds of interviews for a position I assumed was mine, I found out they hired someone else.

So, there I was without a house, without a job, and with a 4-month old baby. Oh, and some craaaaaaaaaaaa-zy emotions, y'all. Poor Jason. There were days that our housing situation, job prospects, and caregiver situation changed hourly. Where we lived could throw off our nanny share. Was it a sign that I should stay home with the little guy for a while? Without a job, what could we afford to pay in short-term rent or a new mortgage?  The housing inventory was sooooo limited & things were going quickly. To say it was tumultuous hardly covers it.


Gasping for Air & Sending Up Prayers
Luckily, there were encouraging signs along the way that we were making the right decisions. Kind of like a chance to fill my lungs with air before being pulled back under, each of these signs came at a moment I needed the gentle reminder that I was gonna make it outta this: 

1. The day after we sold our home, a woman was shot in the leg at the end of the street for her cell phone. Yep. A good sign it's time to move!
2. The new home had random familiar details similar to my childhood home (which my mom sold during this same timeframe...out with the old!) and gave me that "feeling" of where we wanted to raise our babe. It is also in a location where I don't feel the need to even follow the police reports.
3. Burke got a spot in our #1 choice daycare, which made it easier to make location-based decisions on housing now that we knew where he'd be going each day. And it's just down the street from said new home.
4. A "dream job" job description found its way into my inbox. It was absolutely perfect for me, I couldn't have written it better myself if I'd tried. And, as luck would have it, my former mentor was the one looking to fill the position. Go figure.
5. My previous employer did absolutely right by me, as much as I may have felt betrayed by the process at one point or another. They made the right decision and everyone is definitely in the right place. No hard feelings--personal or professional. No harm, no foul.
6. At the moments I thought I was losing it, co-workers or friends would pop up and tell me how gracefully they thought I was handling everything. Say what? Either they were lying or I had them fooled. At least I wasn't falling apart on the outside despite what was going on inside.

When I wasn't packing a box, hugging my baby, searching for jobs, or looking for apartments, I was pretty much praying. In the car, on the sofa, in the shower, while cooking dinner--wherever I was, and often teary-eyed. Asking Him for the faith and grace and peace to come out OK on the other side.

 

 

Still Waters. Beautifully Still Waters.
And you know what? He listened. I prayed over and over for peace throughout this whole process, and it came. I repeated the 23rd Psalm as my mantra: "He leads me beside still waters. He restores my soul....Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death..." I reminded myself that God won't break me, that he won't lead me to anything He can't handle. I told myself that everything was falling apart so that He could put it back together better than it was before. I was inspired daily by the Instagram feeds of amazing, God-fearing women like Lara Casey and Emily Ley. I felt the lowest of my lows and, armed with mantras, verses, and inspiration, have a newfound appreciation for the blessings of my life. 

We found a new home that needs lots of love, yet reminds me of my childhood home. We were able to work out our nanny share, & B has been accepted into our first-pick daycare (at least for a few days a week until a full-time spot opens up!). I started a new job that will afford me a better quality of life, a challenging career, and the opportunity to lead. My marriage is stronger than ever, and we celebrated 4 years in August. My faith in God has been tested and strengthened in a way I needed it most. We have a happy healthy baby boy who loves to cuddle and giggle and coo. What matters most in my life has never been more clear.

Here I am, floating leisurely in the cool pool of calm water, sippin' on a perfectly chilled umbrella cocktail, looking upstream at the crazy, boiling, intensely tumultuous rapids of the past few months. I can't see around the bend at what lies downstream, but I know, without a doubt, that Team Velmer can paddle through it.

The Road to Meet Burke: part 3, bribery works

Yeah, yeah. We bribed the nursing staff.

At the suggestion of our doula, we prepared a few treats for the nursing staff that we'd hoped would at least ensure they all read our birth plan. Since we were delivering at the "baby factory" and were hoping for a more natural birth with as little medical intervention as possible, we figured we might need all the leverage we could get.

I made these 3-4 weeks before the due date and froze them. Once we knew we were heading to the hospital, we pulled them out to defrost & plopped them in a basket with tissue paper, a few copies of our birth plan, and an ingredient list.

I think J made lots of friends when he dropped off the basket at the nurse's station that night!

Cranberry Orange Bread via Joy of Baking

Pumpkin Muffins via Smitten Kitchen

Granola Bars via Smitten Kitchen

It worked. Not only did we receive great service during delivery (everyone who came into our room commented on the yummy treats), but we also scored the corner suite in recovery.

The Road to Meet Burke: part 2, the birth story

Don't worry, I'll keep this PG and do my best to avoid TMI.

As you know, I was trying little things to encourage Burke's overdue arrival in a subtle way before the pressure to medically induce was upon us. Saturday - water aerobics. Sunday - pregnancy/acupressure massage. Monday - the smoothie & yoga ball.

I guess I finished the smoothie around 11am. I think I mentioned to someone early that afternoon via instant messenger that I thought I might've felt a contraction. Nothing significant, but feeling like we were at least making progress.

5:00pm-ish -  I started preparing dinner. I'd read somewhere that you don't want to eat heavy foods prior to childbirth, so I improvised a broth-based kale & bean soup since it was a dreary rainy night. I made plenty, as I figured it'd be good for dinner the next few nights if labor was in the near future. J got home at 6, and we relaxed on the sofa to eat our cozy soup. It was pretty good, if I do say so myself. I had two servings.

6:12pm - The following text message exchange with my mother-in-law, who was checking in on me.

7:45pm - My tummy started to rumble. After a trip or two to the restroom thanks to the leafy green kale, I was sitting on the couch & hubs brought over some Oreos and milk. Around that time, I started feeling more cramps. I didn't have the appetite to even finish my three Oreos. We decided it would be a good idea to take our hospital bags with us to the next morning's scheduled Dr's appointment, just in case.

8:15pm - I decided to take a warm bath to see if these contractions would calm down any. They weren't intense at all, just felt like mild cramps. But they were consistently coming now. J called our doula and she didn't seem to think it was anything to warrant urgency. We had a Dr's appointment at 9am the next morning, so we figured we'd make it through the night and get the Doc's instructions at the appointment. J called my mom & she decided to hit the road early the next morning so she would be wide awake for the 8 hour drive. There wasn't any rush since we thought it could still be a few days till his birthday.

8:45pm - Out of the tub, relaxing, & catching up on Downton Abbey. I used the "Full Term" app to track the contractions.

9:30pm - Contractions still coming. Only lasting 10-30 seconds, about 8-10 minutes apart.

10:00pm - Realized I might be timing these suckers wrong. Maybe these contractions are closer together than I thought?

10:11pm - Called the doctor. She didn't seem convinced that I was in early labor. Considering I was still able to have a normal conversation, I don't blame her. She told me I could come on in & they would check me out but might send me home if I wasn't dilated enough to warrant sticking around.

10:30pm - We decided better safe than sorry and headed to the hospital. J packed the car & I called the doula. She wasn't convinced a baby was coming either because I was so laidback & conversational. I can't blame her--I wasn't convinced either.

10:45pm-ish - We arrive at the hospital. Some of the speed bumps made me a little nauseous, but I was fine when we parked. The maternity entrance was closed for construction, so we had to find a new way inside. While they were getting me checked in, J parked the car. I don't think the admitting nurses were convinced I was there to have a baby either. We chatted about purses, boutique shops, the weather, etc while my room was being prepared.

You knitted me together in my mother's womb. I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Psalm 139:13b & 14.

11:45pm - We were settled in the room. I was rocking the sexy hospital gown & making frequent trips to the restroom. Maybe I lost the mucous plug during one of those trips. Contractions were still mild, but steady.

11:48pm - The nurse is about to perform the cervical exam to check dilation. As she puts on her 2nd glove, my water breaks on the bed. I'm dilated to 5cm. Guess we should settle in for the night & see how this goes. Contractions are still mild & steady.

Midnight - WHOA! The contractions are serious now. YEEEOUCH. We've called the doula and she's headed our way. I'm dealing with the contractions as best I can - standing up & leaning into J, gripping the side of the bed, whatever I could do. J is super supportive. Even offers to let me bite him if it'll help. I remember leaning into him and noticing his shoes. He was wearing suede bucs, and I asked him if he brought other shoes. I was afraid they'd get ruined. The contractions were intensifying. Quickly. And I'm only halfway to being fully dilated? Epidural PLEASE. Now. Forget this natural BS.

12:30ish - After what seems like an eternity, the anesthesiologist arrives. It'll take 10 minutes to administer the epidural, and 10 for it to take effect. While he's inserting the needle, the team arrives to get the baby warmer set up. I'm confused. I asked if this was really about to happen--I mean, we haven't been here that long. The OB looks at me and says, "Well, you went from 5cm to 8cm in under an hour. So yeah, this is definitely happening soon." So THAT's why the contractions were so much more painful. He was on his way!! [J's version of the events differs a bit here, and is probably more accurate. According to him, they checked my cervix at this time, and upon realizing that I was dilated at 8cm, rushed the anesthesiologist to the room before we missed the epidural window. I totally missed that part.]

1:00am-ish - Our doula arrives, surprised we're as far along as we are. I think we all are.

The epidural slowed things down a good bit. So much so, I got a good 2-hour nap. J gave the family updates, and his folks headed to the hospital to be there for the arrival of their grandson.

2:30am - I wake up. Amazed at how much more manageable the contractions are with the drugs. I watch them on the monitor, but the pain is very bearable. I still have movement in my legs & feet, but they are a bit numb.

2:40am-ish - The OB confirms I'm fully dilated and it's time to begin pushing. Our doula sneaks me a honey stick before we start pushing for a little natural energy rush. I push for about 30 minutes, but I'm not making the progress they want to see.

3:15am - We decide to dial back the epidural so I have more feeling in my legs & can be more active. We wait for it to settle in and take a breather. Family gets updates.

**I should mention that we totally bribed the labor & delivery staff. Baked goods including pumpkin muffins, cranberry orange bread, and all-natural granola bars were prepped weeks in advance & frozen in anticipation of the birth date. J delivered them to the nurse's station along with our birth plan & a list of ingredients in case of any food allergies. No doubt this played in our favor. The OB was incredibly impressed with the granola bars. We talked about how easy they are to make several times between contractions.**

4:45am - Time to begin pushing again. This time, game on. The pushes are spot-on, and I can feel progress as each contraction comes and goes. J's feeding me ice chips, squeezing my hand, coaching me to victory. Cynthya (our doula) suggests positions to the OB, who is open to letting me try whatever is comfortable. (I must add that my OB is part of a practice of 7 doctors, so we weren't sure who would actually be on call at the time Burke decided to join us. I definitely liked some of the doctors in the practice more than others, and there were 3 I was really hoping for. We scored one of them, and you better believe I was excited when it was Dr. Smith who returned my call to the answering service earlier that night. We won the lottery in that regard.)

5:15am - Where is this guy? Maybe he's "sunny-side-up" and is going to be more difficult to get out than we thought. About this time, a nurse strolls in with her arms casually folded and says "I'm just being nosy." Excuse me? This is not the time or place for nosing around--I'm pushing out a baby, lady. She leaves after a few minutes, and the OB explains that she was in there to see if she needed to prep the C-section team, just in case. But, once she saw the little guy's head crowning, she knew she could call off the C-section troops. Whew. That's good news.

5:30am - At Cynthya's urging, I reach down and touch his head. Whoa! There it is. That's not normally there. The most wonderful head in the world. I decline the mirror. And J maintains his position at my head at all times. There are just some things you can't un-see.

Even the hairs on your hair are numbered; do not be afraid. Luke 12:7

5:40am - The OB tells us that the delivery team will be coming in soon to get everything set up. Since I'd been pushing for a long time, they may need to run more tests to make sure everything's OK and that he didn't swallow to much fluid or whatever. She also tells me that I need to get angry & get this fella outta here. The activity in the room picks up. Let's do this! Afterall, my family motto is "Odoms finish strong!" as my sister reminded me via text that morning.

5:47am - The doctor puts on her smock and begins to glove up. A contraction comes, and I can't help but push. The doctor says "Wait, I'm not ready. I don't have my gloves on." Too bad, so sad. I wanna meet my baby!!! She catches him in the bed sheets.

5:48am - I see the most precious head of hair. And the sweetest ears. Then fingers and elbows. I see him bring his arms up over his little slimy head. And he just keeps on coming. Where are his legs? His feet? Wow, he's a big baby. I bet that hurt. I'm glad I can't feel it. And he's perfect. And I'm in love. Oh my God, how in love I am. Oh my.

I'm overcome by tears, looking at my wonderful husband next to me, staring in amazement at the best-smelling bundle of flesh lying on my chest. So out-of-touch with whatever is going on in the room around us. He is perfect. The moment is perfect. We are perfect. This is where I'm meant to be. My cup runneth over. This is joy by its very definition.

The rest is a blur. The OB assesses the damage & stitches me up (stage 3, ouch. Thank heavens for the drugs.). The nurses whisk him away to cuddle, prod, and coo. Apparently he's flirting with them. We may be in real trouble here...

Despite the pain, the scary unknown, the vomiting, the middle-of-the-night labor, the deviation from our natural birth plan, the tearing, the unpredictable bodily functions, and everything else, I wouldn't have it any other way. A supportive partner, a healthy baby boy. A beautiful family--I am undoubtedly blessed.