While we’re still over here soaking up the newborn adrenaline high, I thought I’d take a little time to remember Grant’s birth story. I loved almost every bit of Davis’s birth story (minus the overdue part), and I had been praying for a similar experience. With Davis, I remember having such a peace with the whole experience, and I so badly wanted the same for Grant. I am so thankful for a God who hears our prayers and answers them. Grant’s birth was so wonderful, and I am so thankful!
I’ll back up to my last appointment to get a better picture. I had my last appointment on March 27…one day past my due date. Needless to say, I was already a little irritated. I was so uncomfortable and only dilated to a one and had really hoped he would say, “Well you’re at a three now, and we can induce tomorrow!”…or something to that effect. What he said was that I was still at a one…with a lot of other words that meant I wasn’t really favorable for an induction, and that with no changes, they would talk about an induction at 42 weeks…and I got in the car and cried.
I had done all the housework (even dusting) and all the laundry (some of it twice) and run all the errands (except, ironically, groceries), and more waiting just seemed like torture. Keith was still on his regular work schedule, and I was on spring break, so I didn’t just want to dump Davis at school so I could wallow alone… I ended up taking him on Tuesday (and had a day date with Keith) and Thursday (and ran around town trying to urge this baby out).
On Thursday, I started heavy evacuation maneuvers. I drank a considerable amount of coffee. I went over to the walking path at our hospital and walked a BRISK two miles (and took the stairs up to the third floor two at a time…twice). I got my nails done, and I went to lunch with my dad. By the afternoon, I was pretty tired but feeling no closer to labor. I had been feeling lots of Braxton Hicks and general achiness, but nothing that felt “labory.”
Forty weeks and feeling super d.o.n.e.
At about 11:00 that night, I started to feel more real contractions, not exactly like I did with Davis, but definitely not Braxton Hicks. I tried to ignore them and sleep, but they kept coming every ten minutes on the dot. I still didn’t think much about it since I had contractions 10 minutes apart for two nights with Davis, but I did eventually get up and move to the couch…and watch many hours of Friends in between poor sleep and contractions. I got back in the bed when Keith got up and had him bring me a heating pad for my back, but by 6:00 I was pretty miserable.
I broke our “no calls/texts before 7 am” rule to call my mother and ask for her opinion. I had thought I might call my doctor’s office and see if I could be worked in to be checked, but we both figured I should at least try to get up and move around first…and I honestly thought that would make them go away…it didn’t (hallelujah). As soon as my feet hit the floor, I started having contractions every five minutes. For weeks I had been praying that when it was go time, I would know it immediately. ANSWERED PRAYER. I didn’t want to second guess or run to the hospital with every twinge.
I called my sister to let her know the plan and that I would bring Davis to her when things got real…and in the middle of the phone call decided that they were real enough, and I was going to the hospital (even though I was terrified that I would be sent home). Davis was occupied with breakfast and Robocar Poli, and while I let that run on a loop, I made the beds (why?), packed him a bag, and tried every position I could to take some pressure off my lower back.
I got Davis to my sister and drove over to the hospital (very slowly with my flashers on). I checked in at about 7:30, and they let me walk up to the OB floor on my own. Y’all it’s a maze up there, and I was so grateful when someone finally pointed me to the right door. As soon as I walked down the triage hall, I started to get pretty emotional. Everything was so real, and I was so uncomfortable, and I did not want to have to go home. My OB (the same one who was on call when Davis was born!) was busy with a c-section (just like when Davis was born!), and after a wait that felt eternal, the OB hospitalist (a dear older man I had never met but instantly loved) checked me out and said I was at a FIVE and officially admitted (a little before 9:00 I think)! PRAISE!
I let Keith know, and he came up from his floor, and we waited for baby Grant. I got my epidural quickly (thankfully) and was finally able to get some sleep. I didn’t sleep much before Davis was born, and I definitely paid for it! After my epidural, my doctor came in to check, and I was at a SEVEN! He broke my water, and I rested some more. After another good nap, they started some Pitocin to get contractions moving along again (I could tell that they had slowed down as soon as I got to the hospital.). After another short nap (noticing a pattern?), the nurse came back in and said she thought Grant might be face up, so I spent some time (asleep) with the giant peanut ball between my knees to see if he would move. He did (a smidge), and by about 2:20, I was ready to push. Of course the doctor had run down to get a bite to eat after delivering about four other babies, so I started pushing a little with the nurse. When he got there a few minutes later, I pushed a few more big times, and Grant was out at 2:41, and I was kind of shocked. I knew he was in there the whole time, but it took my breath away for him to be out and be a person that I could see and hold and kiss.
I am so thankful for the answer to prayer that this birth experience was (and is)! I can’t imagine anything that could have made the experience more perfect for our family, and I will never forget the Lord’s kindness to us. He has poured His love and grace on us during this season, and I could not be more thankful! We are settling in to life as a family of four, but I hope to be back more over the next few weeks with updates and pictures and life.
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