Yesterday, I told my parents that M was standing, but couldn’t move forward. I was wrong.

My eight month old is currently standing and playing a chair like a drum. Yes, my eight month old is standing, only when holding on, but standing none the less. For the past month and a half he had one mission, to be vertical. I am pretty sure he only learned to crawl, so he could get to objects to climb on. Both activities happened simultaneously at Christmas. He has been on the normal edge of early for all of his physical milestones, but so far pulling up seems to be his favorite.

On Friday, May 18, 2012, I was tired all day. It took me hours to get ready to leave the house, but I was determined that A and I were going to have one last outing before the baby came. We drove to the Science Center, because the thought of walking was more than I could handle. We went to the baby room and she happily played while I curled up in the big chair. I wasn’t in labor yet, but I was so sleepy. When Shannon got home we ate dinner and then took the Circulator to the harbor. The Kelly Bell Band was playing and our friends were there as well. It was a beautiful early summer night. As we were leaving, Amber and I discussed where I was in the labor process, because she wanted to be available in the middle of the night, but didn’t feel well. I told her I was fine, but that it could go either way. We took the Circulator home, put A to bed, and went to sleep.

The night before M was born.

I woke up around 7:30 with achy cramps. I thought they might be contractions, but after my false labor with A I wanted to be sure. I woke up my husband and told him I might be in labor. We hung out for a bit. Then Shannon went downstairs and made me breakfast while I called and emailed to give people the heads up that this might be the day. I decided that if I was in labor that I really needed to get a shower cap. We walked to CVS, stopping for contractions along the way. On the way home I realized that it was truly labor and rushed home while Shannon stopped to talk to the neighbors.

Once we got home I took a shower, braided my hair and put on clean clothes. I labored alone in the bedroom for a while. I made plane reservations for my mom and tracked down someone to come watch A once we were ready to go to the hospital. I labored in the shower, using the much needed shower cap, so my hair wouldn’t be wet. I then hung out with Shannon and A downstairs. I drank Gatorade and ate lemon ice while laboring on the couch and the birthing ball. My contractions were steady, but I was having good luck managing the pain.

A was pressing on my back with her feet. It provided unexpected, but amazing relief.

Finally, I realized that it was time to go to the hospital. I saw my neighbor’s car outside, so I thought she was home. I called to tell her we were ready, so she could come watch A. She wasn’t home. She was still at the hairdressers. Contractions ramped up at this point and I was really worried that she wouldn’t make it in time. Once she got there, Shannon and I rushed to the car. As we drove the mile to the hospital the contractions became almost unbearable – they were hard and fast, with little time in between them. Looking back, I realize that I began transition around this time. In the car I called Amber, my friend who was coming to be with us during the birth, and told her not to leave for the hospital for half an hour, since she wouldn’t be able to be in triage with me.

Shannon and I were planning on using the valet service at the hospital, but unfortunately there is no valet on Saturdays. Shannon dropped me off and I walked in myself. I checked in at the front desk and started to walk up. I stopped to lean against the wall during a particularly rough contraction. Someone brought me a wheel chair and escorted me up to the floor. It was a really long ride up that elevator. When I got to labor and delivery, I sat at the desk for what felt like a really long time, but was probably only a few minutes. A nurse came out and said, totally tongue and cheek, “Looks like you might be having a baby today. I will come get you in a minute”.

At that point Shannon came up, but the nurse made him go to the waiting room while I went right back to a delivery room, because the nurse had the good sense to know I wasn’t going to make it through triage. I had to stop several times for contractions, which were coming right on top of each other at this point. When we got to the room she sent me to the bathroom.  All of the sudden, there was a pop, and a gush. My water broke. The contractions were still really close together and I was feeling like I wanted to push, so I demanded she get my husband.

My husband came in just as a resident was trying to do a cervical check. I kept having contractions, so it really hurt. I was in a ton of pain at this point, because things were moving really fast, the baby had dropped and was moving downwards, the contractions were coming in waves, and I couldn’t get my rhythm back. I heard someone ask my husband if I was planning on an epidural. He told them that I was planning on going med free just as I I thought to myself, “Wow, that sounds amazing. I do want an epidural”

My next thought was “Really, they think there is time for an epidural? There is no time for that. This baby is coming. They have no idea.”

The midwife finally arrived, straight from another birth, and wanted to check me. I told her I was ready to push. She agreed and helped me get on my knees and lean forward with my arms and face against the back of the bed, to push that way. The baby’s heart rate began to drop, so they told me I had to roll to my back. I started to panic. After my pushing fiasco with A, I had no intentions of pushing on my back. At this point I was scared and frustrated and probably a bit belligerent. I began pushing, but still couldn’t find a rhythm and continued to be annoyed. The bed wasn’t set up for pushing, so it was hard to get enough traction. Shannon was amazing. He asked for ice chips and a wet cloth when he saw how hot I was. He was also really encouraging and supportive. A new nurse arrived and began giving me gentle instructions that worked to refocus me a bit. I looked over and realized she was the nurse I met and really liked at my hospital tour. She told me to sit up a bit and grab my thighs. This put me in a much better position and my pushing became much more productive, although I was still out of sorts. Suddenly there was an intense pain, that I could almost taste. I realized that this meant the baby was coming and I became present in the moment. I felt the head come out and the midwife turned the baby so the shoulders were freed. She then told me to reach down and grab the baby’s shoulders. As I pushed one final time the baby dropped into my hands, and I pulled it to my chest. As I did this I realized it was actually a he. I snuggled him for a moment. Then rolled him over so my husband could announce he was a boy and cut the cord.

The nurses took him while I delivered the placenta and the midwife had me sign all the waivers. She was really amused by explaining all the complications that hadn’t happened, which helped me not be annoyed by the process.

Amber arrived in labor and delivery, just as the baby cried his first cry. She ran into the room just as I was delivering the placenta. She was happy the baby was safe, because she had been as worried as I was, but she was also mad at me for waiting so long to go to the hospital and telling her to wait before coming. We were both disappointed that she hadn’t made it for the birth.

Once the paperwork was done, I demanded that they give him back to me. He had started to cry and his chin was twitching. As soon as I took him he stopped crying and began to eat. The boy was a champion nurser right out of the gate. I take no credit for that. He was born with suck marks on his wrists. He was ready.

M was born on May 19, 2012, at 3:11 pm, 36 minutes after we arrived at labor and delivery, and 27 minutes after my water broke. He was 7lbs 14 oz, and 21 1/2 inches long.