4 days late...

Well, my children are consistent.  Both decided to come 4 days late, weighed less than an oz difference, and they both stole my heart the minute I laid eyes on them.

I had a lot of anxiety toward the end of this pregnancy. I worried about how Grace would react. I worried about labor (even though I have done it before). I worried about having 2 kids. I worried about everything to the point where I would make myself sick.  After a blessing, I felt a lot more calm and peaceful. I knew that things would work out, no matter how hard they might be at first.

Of course, when the due date came and went I was disappointed. Part of me was holding onto a hope that since it was my second child, he would come sooner. Nope. Silly me!

 I tried to at least do some fun things to make having to wait a little easier.

We had a movie night in the living room on the air mattress, and even went swimming on my due date.

Grace is REALLy into 'photo bombing' right now. So as we waited for my last Dr appt on my due date, we kept her entertained by taking pictures and letting her 'photo bomb' us!  We all thought it was hilarious! haha

It has been about 6 weeks since my labor started.  Just like with his big sister, my labor started the Monday after my due date at around 6am. The contractions weren't horrible, but I could tell it was different (and consistent).   I labored in the bedroom for a while, and even took a shower and put on makeup  in between contractions! I was pretty adamant that I was NOT going to look as bad as I did in pictures when I had Grace!  I also tried to come out to see Grace for a few minutes at a time b/c I didn't want her to get scared about me being in pain.

She posed us for a few pictures.

My sweet girl and I before we added a brother to the mix.

Then, Stephen dropped Grace off before the contractions got too bad and we hung around at home for a while more. We finally headed out to the hospital around 11.  We get to the hospital and check in, where they send me to triage.  They check me….and I'm dilated to a 2. A TWO. UGH. Exactly the same as with Grace. Upset is an understatement.

I asked if I could walk around the halls like I did with Grace, and they said I had to stay in my room. Lame. So, there I was, trying to will my body into progressing. Squats, pacing, lunges…I did not want to go home. With Grace, I progressed to a 3, and they admitted me b/c I was progressing. Well, the nurse (who was horrible!) told me that the regulation had changed, and now you have to be a FOUR to be admitted. And she said that if it is your first baby, you have to be 6 to be admitted! Thank goodness I've already had my first, b/c I'm pretty sure I wasn't a 6 with Grace until way after I even had an epidural.

So, the hour passes by, and the nurse comes back in and checks. 2 1/2. 

She says, "Honey, you are not in active labor….don't worry, you'll be back in a couple of days."

I wanted to rip her head off.

I'm not an idiot.  I know what labor feels like. And I AM in active labor. Just not by her standards.

So….they sent us home.

My WORST nightmare.

So, we went  and got some food….you know, to eat my feelings.  Since I was  *supposed* to meet my friend at Moe's for lunch  that day before we realized that my son had other plans, we got some takeout from there and headed home.  All the while, contractions are still consistent and by the time we are home and fed, they are getting progressively worse and worse.  I tried all the  'true labor tests' like laying on your left side and drinking a big glass of water and seeing if the contractions continued.  I tried walking….still contractions.  Sooo…I tried to relax but with every contraction, my body would seize up and my back would radiate pain. 

By 5, Stephen insisted that we go back to the hospital.

Check in. again.

Triage. again.

Check me.

…

a 3.

Sigh.

That same nurse who I had seen (unfortunately) that morning, recognized my name and offered to be put on my room. Lucky me. : (

They put me on some kind of IV to help my body relax through the contractions and said that they would see how I progressed.  Supposedly, this medicine will either make you dilate quickly, or stop your contractions all together. 

Obviously I'm a freak of nature, because it did neither to me.

By this time, the shift was about to change for the nurses, so a new nurse came in to help.  They took some vials of blood, just in case I progressed enough to be admitted. That way, they could get the epidural to me faster. 

They let me stay till about 8ish but since I had only progressed to about a 3 1/2, that stinkin' nurse said to me what NO woman wants to here, "When your labor feels about 10 times worse than this, come back to see us. Don't worry, you'll have this baby in a couple of days. Just go home and get some sleep"

Really, nurse? Could YOU sleep if you were in active labor, and had pains like someone was trying to break your back? I think not.

(and yes…I'm still bitter about that nurse. And yes, I made sure to fill out that 'survey' the hospital sent me.)

So, there we went. Walk of shame (or wheelchair of shame in my case) back out of that hospital for the second time that day.

My mom had driven up from Sumter to watch Grace and was waiting for us at our house.

As soon as I walked in the door, I just broke down in tears and my mom just hugged me.

I felt like no one believed that I was in labor, and even I was starting to think that I was going crazy.  The contractions were HORRIBLE at this point. My poor mom and husband were getting heating pads, and rubbing my back with each contraction.  Finally, we headed to bed…knowing full well that there would be no sleep for me that night. With a lot of help, I changed into pajamas, washed my face and crawled into bed. But, the contractions were so intense at this point, that I could not even lie down. And then, the nausea hits. Luckily Stephen got a bucket in time, but I started throwing up. And there were lots to crying and praying and saying, "I cannot do this anymore!"

And for the third time that day, we decided that we needed to go to the hospital at 12 am. I could barely walk at this point, and had to stop a million times just trying to get to our car.

Check in. again.

Triage. again.

Check me. a 5! 

Hallelujah!

I didn't do much celebrating, though, since I couldn't even keep my eyes open the pain was so bad.

The nurse went in the hall to get the paperwork, and then BAM, my water breaks. No, not breaks….explodes. Stephen runs to go tell her, and she comes running in.

She checks me again, and I had jumped to a 7 in that 2 minutes that she was gone.

She makes me sign the paperwork (for the third time that day), if you can even call what I 'wrote' on that paper a signature.

And then, it was a mad rush to get me to delivery. They put me in a wheelchair, and literally ran me down the hall to a delivery room.   

As I'm screaming and carrying on, they try to get my blood. AGAIN. Because obviously, the nurse who shall remain nameless, threw the blood samples away that she took hours earlier and did not send them to the lab like she said she would.  

So, as I'm screaming that I want my epidural, they keep saying that they are have to wait on the blood samples to come back from the lab.

My poor, poor husband.

He is a saint.

I don't recall saying anything mean to him, but I'm pretty sure that I scared him with all my screaming. I begged for the epidural, I screamed to get the baby out…and I'm also sure that sounds came out of my mouth that even *I* haven't heard before.

But, I do remember that at some point, he leans over and says, "Naomi, you are not getting the epidural."

Oh, the horror.

But in the midst of the pain, I have to say that my husband and the delivery nurses were all amazing. They held my hands, they told me how strong I was, they kept encouraging me that I could do it, when all I wanted was for someone to take away the pain. They were exactly what I needed to get me through it.

I'll spare you all the gory details, but in less than an hour of pulling up to the hospital parking lot, I held my little boy in my arms. 

don't you just love the convenient foot placement?

And as soon as he was born, not only did all the pain stop, but the whole world stopped.  I got to look at his little face and meet the little spirit who had kicked and nudged me relentlessly the past 9 months.

I never knew my heart could hold so much love.

taken by bella baby photography

I knew he was our little Samuel Kyle.

8lbs, 8oz

20 1/4 inches long

born at 1:16am

Blonde hair and the longest feet you've ever seen on a newborn.

After I got to hold him for a while and even nursed him, and then they put him under the warming lights because he wasn't warming up enough doing skin to skin.  And, believe it or not, I felt great. I got up, walked around, went to the bathroom, and even contemplated getting a shower. Stephen got me some food from the cafeteria, and we just sat around chatting and joking with the nurses while holding our son.

They were telling us about how when we first got here, they saw the file come through to set up the room for delivery. Then, she said she saw the number jump from 5 to 7, and they all had to rush to get things in place before they ran me over! 

They kept gushing about how they live for deliveries like that. Fast, exciting, and healthy.  

It took a while to get everything set up and to our 'normal' room, but we eventually got there at…4am. 

And of course, the Dr came in at 6, so we didn't get to sleep much at all.

But, the adrenaline from the night/morning helped us stay awake all day with all the visitors and such.

And now…..for the pictures.

Grace was excited to meet her little brother. She was so gentle and kept saying over and over, "I love you, baby brother!" and kissing his head. I think my heart may have imploded from the adorableness.

She really wanted to show him the toys that Gram got her.

My sweet mama. I couldn't ask for anyone better.

The littles admiring Sam.

Grandmama and Grandaddy. They travelled from MB as soon as they got the news!

And then…a little over 24 hours in the hospital, we went home. I felt so good and 'normal' after this delivery, that I was just ready to get home to my little girl and start this 'new normal' of being a family of 4. They were fine with it as long as we took Sam in to the Doctor the next morning to make sure he was still regulating his temperature well.

long feet

My nieces Rachel and Livvy made these sweet cards and banner for his arrival.

Big sister was ecstatic to have him home.  She wants to hold him, and kiss him, and sing to him all day long. It drove me crazy how 'smothering' she was the first week, but then I realized that if it was not putting him in danger…it was OK. And it is. And I'm thankful that it is an outpouring of love, and not violence! haha

Baby Sam even got his first adjustment from the amazing Dr Sarah who drove all the way to our house to meet him and adjust our whole family. And after having back labor…I NEEDED it terribly. 

don't worry…he is only held like that for a  second.

The morning after we got home, I woke  up to hysterical laughter on the porch. I walked out on the porch to discover Stephen and Grace playing in the rain. They would catch water coming off the house, and then dump it on each other. I love my husband so much. He is the best, most fun father in the world.

My mom was so sweet, and stayed with us for a few days. I wish I could have just kept her forever, but I knew that she had a life to get back to, and we needed to figure out our new life too.

This little boy LOVES to have something on his face. Whether it is his hands, or he will pull up his blanket…he just loves to have something touching his face.

Where ever Sam is, you can be sure that Grace is within arms length.

Oh, so much love.

The hands! Seriously, ALWAYS there.

Grace teaching Sam the important things in life. Like, how to cheer for the Gamecocks!

When we went to the Dr the day after leaving the hospital, everything checked out normal, and he was doing great. They had to come in and give him a shot, though, and I was a little nervous. They poked his little thigh, that lip came out and then the most pitiful wail! I reached for him and spoke to him, and he grabbed my finger and immediately stopped crying. It just brought tears to my eyes to know that I am his mother, and he is my son. It is amazing to me how quickly that bond is formed. He knew my voice from in the womb, and he recognizes me when I talk. And he loves to hold onto our fingers and pull them to his face.

This little boy has brought so much MORE love into our home. We love him dearly. He is the most 'chill' baby ever, which nicely balances out the…ahem…sassy older sister that lives here too. ; ) 

And the craziest part of the whole delivery/recovery is….that I am actually quite happy that it happened the way it did. Don't get me wrong, I would never wish that pain on anyone, and it was definitely never in my plan to go natural.  But as I look back at my first delivery with an epidural and compare the two, I realize how much better this one was. Well, the labor was not better. But the recovery is drastically different. With Grace, I lost a lot of blood and had to have blood transfusions and a lot of stitches. I even passed out when they tried to get me to walk to the bathroom.  But, with Sam, I was up within minutes of delivering him, and felt great. I showered by myself,  put on makeup and was able to get up and walk around. It was night and day.  And as much as I love the whole 'no pain' delivery, I really loved the fact that my body recovered so quickly and I was able to care for BOTH kids so much better. 

Once again, it goes to show that sometimes our plans are different from Heavenly Father's…but as always, he knows what is best for us.