Whether we admit it or not, we all have a plan for how we want
our child’s birth to happen.
We had a date. A perfectly planned out date that we hand picked.
And, I’m a planner – both by vocation and lifestyle. So, I like my plans to
fall in to place, thank you very much. But as we all know, the best laid plans
so often fall through.
Our date was scheduled exactly two weeks and two days after
Connor's 2nd birthday (maybe I like the number two?). This was two weeks I had
planned to devote myself to big brother Connor, making sure he felt so loved by
me before I had to turn my attention elsewhere. Two weeks for last minute
appointments, wrapping things up at work, finishing the nursery, and deciding
on a name (finally) for the baby. Two weeks for a mani/pedi, highlights,
errands. But, I never got those two weeks. God had other plans.
Parker arrived at 37 ½ weeks gestation. 2 ½ weeks early and 2
weeks before our scheduled c-section.
It was on a Wednesday, the day after Connor’s second birthday.
We had so much fun celebrating Connor on his birthday. We made his favorite
meal – hot dogs – and had a special birthday cupcake just for him. They fussed
over him at school, we played choo choo’s at home and did everything we could
to make sure he felt so special. It was a sweet day for our little family!
The next day, I woke up with tremendous stomach pains. I’d had
some before, but these had me doubled over in pain. I didn’t have time to sit
and rest because I had to get Connor to the pediatrician for his two-year
checkup. After his checkup, we headed into school. I was still in so much pain,
I was crying (and I'm not a crier). I called the doctor’s office and they told
me to come in for monitoring. I called Jeremy to meet me at school and after I
dropped Connor, we headed up to the hospital.
Sure enough, I ended up being in the early stages of labor.
Through an IV, they gave me fluids to try and stop the labor, but I ended up
progressing over the next couple of hours. During those hours we were in
triage, we were productive and picked a name for our baby! Better late than never, right? I had back labor
this time, and that was pretty painful. WOW. That is no joke. My labor all
happened so quickly (and unexpectedly). When the doctor came in and said,
"It's baby day!" I cried. How could it already be happening? It's not
time!
Luckily, my mom was able to get to the hospital pretty quickly.
Her excitement over meeting her fifth grandbaby made me feel less anxious about
everything that was happening. We called Jeremy's parents in Baton Rouge, and
they got on the road as quickly as they could.
Before I knew, it, I was taken into pre-op where I was asked
what seemed like hundreds of questions by several doctors, nurses (even one of
my sorority sisters, which was a fun surprise!) and the oh-so-important
anesthesiologist. It really was baby time.
It seemed like one minute Jeremy and I were making lunch plans,
and in the blink of an eye, we were getting ready to have our baby.
Once in the operating room, everyone jumped into action. I was
so thankful that my doctor was there with me through all of that chaos. It was
nice to have a familiar face during an unsettling time. Then, I felt so much
better once Jeremy came into the operating room. It felt like I was in there
without him for such a long period of time. At one point, I reminded a nurse to
go get my husband!
Once I was deadened and ready to go, Jeremy and I talked
nervously and took a selfie (aren’t we so hip?). We were so excited to meet our
baby boy!
After what seemed like an eternity, we heard that sweet sound –
our baby boy crying! The nurses said he came out crying, kicking (sounds about
right, based on all those belly kicks!) and peeing! The crying stopped and they
took him to the side to get all of his measurements done. He was over there for
a really long time, and I kept thinking, “Why don’t they bring him over?” “When
can I see my baby?”
And that’s when we realized something was wrong.
