January 30th, 2017

At this time last year, 10:01am, I was having what I thought were Braxton Hicks contractions. I had had them all pregnancy long (since 16 weeks) and they sometimes felt like the real deal. I decided not to pay too much attention to them and instead try to nap and rest. Throughout the whole day I had told the Milkman not to go too far because I wasn't sure what these were but they hurt while they were happening.

And it was so weird. I would have a contraction and then I would go about my daily routine in between. With Alexander, contractions had started and made it impossible for me to do anything else. So, I told the Milkman that these contractions were probably still Braxton Hicks and we would be at this for several more days. 

I had Alexander at 40+1 and we were on 40+2 so I wasn't getting my hopes up. Milkman decided he wanted to go to the hospital before rush hour hit so we wouldn't hit traffic. I told him I was doing well at home so why didn't we chill out and go after rush hour. He finally convinced me it was better to be safe than sorry. Through the whole drive into town and across the river I hung out in the passenger seat and only really had pain when a contraction was peaking. I would raise up and say, "If they send me home because I am only 4 cm I am going to kill you." I had been 4 cm for two weeks by this point.

We were checking in to L&D (jargon for Labor & Delivery department of the hospital) and the nurse kind of chuckled at me. And I AGREED with her. I wasn't doubled over like before, and Lordy knows I was still cutting up with people and laughing. Send me home, I told her. 

They put me in a room and a nurse came in. My birth plan was already on file and all I had to do was give her my insurance, etc. She also asked me if I wanted to be "checked." Which heads up, is super violent. Ask any woman who has given birth....that sh*t hurts. I told her I didn't come to have dinner so she mind as well. When she checked me she informed me I wasn't going anywhere. You are 8cm dilated. 

"What?! It took me 37 hours with the last one and you are trying to tell me this one happened in 8 hours of not real hard labor?!?! I got jipped last time!"

Ridiculous. I was going to have a talk with my oldest son when I got home. Explain to him how things were supposed to work and that I was very disappointed in him. (I don't think I ever actually did it....so tonight is as good as any to bring it back up.)

This whole scenerio happened around 5pm. I called my doula (read: Angel Among Us) and she said she was 5 minutes away. I had been annoying her for a solid week telling her to be ready and now, I wasn't giving her much time to actually do her job. I also started sobbing. It finally became real at that point I was leaving the hospital with another baby. We hadn't found out if it was a boy or a girl. From 5pm to 8pm the room was VERY reminiscent of my first labor. It started to HURT real bad and wouldn't let up. This is what professionals call "Transition" and I lovingly call it "HELL." By 8:30ish (I don't remember) I had a beautiful baby Anderson in my arms. I made the nurses check him over and over to make sure everything was in the spot it was supposed to be in (because last time Alexander AGAIN did not cooperate. I am seeing a trend with this child.)


My mom attempted to get attitude with the nurses...ha. So my husband left and talked to her (cause that is all she wanted) and then they decided to get me up and out of bed. I decided to not cooperate (involuntarily) and pass out. I blame it on the lack of vanilla wafers and Gatorade throughout labor but who knows. When they finally were able to get me to come to I headed back to the bed and gorged on vanilla wafers and Gatorade. 

Next they wheeled me to the mommy/baby floor. I asked to walk but they said, "No way, hosea."

And today, is that sweet little baby boy's BIRTHDAY! Mommy worked so hard for you, not as hard as I worked for Alexander, but you are my chill baby and I love you for that. You are the balance our family needed and more laid-back like your daddy. Nothing ever seems to bother you (except during the phase where you wanted nothing to do with anyone except me...which is annoying.) And I hope you know how amazing you are and as long as you work hard in life you can do whatever your heart desires.

Love you to the moon and back baby boy.