A big thank you to my wonderful husband for keeping up with the blog the last couple of weeks. Blogging has not exactly been on my radar recently, but while I have a few quiet moments, I thought I would write out Langston’s birth story before it fades from my memory.  So that was your warning. Feel free to stop reading if birth stories are not your thing. I will not be offended.

I will begin with my last doctor’s appointment. On December 26th I had what was suppose to be my 34 week appointment. I mentioned to my doctor that I had been having stronger, more painful contractions, although still not regular. He decided to go ahead and check me to see if the contractions were doing anything. I was 1 1/2 cm dilated. Given that fact and that my due date had always been a bit fuzzy this pregnancy ( it went from Jan. 21st, to Jan. 31st, to Feb. 4th), my doctor decided to move my due date to the 21st (it was currently set for Feb. 4th). While I knew this change really had no bearing on when Langston would make his debut, I was happy for the earlier due date. My doctor decided to see me back in two weeks and my next appointment was set for January 9th.

Now I’ll fast forward to about January the 5th. I continued to have strong, but irregular contractions in the following days. By the 5th we were just praying that Langston would hold off until after the big snowstorm. I knew there was no way I was making it until February 4th and I was pretty confident I would not even make it until the 21st. Drew shoveled our driveway like crazy during the storm just in case I did go into labor and I set in to full nesting mode (I should have known then). By Tuesday, the 7th, the girls and I had a serious case of cabin fever. Drew ended up going into work that day, so I decided to take the girls over to the gym at church and let them burn off some much needed energy. We ran (yes, I didn’t think it could hurt anything for my 9 month pregnant self to “run” ) and played around the gym for about an hour and then headed home. The rest of the day was pretty non-eventful (except for our furnace deciding it would be a great day to stop working-but that is a story for another time). Ironically enough, my contractions seemed pretty non-existent all day.

I went to bed about 10 p.m. on Tuesday night feeling completely normal. About 1 o’clock in the morning, though, that started to change. I woke up with my first contraction and knew right away that it was the real deal. I timed them for about 30 minutes and finally decided to wake up Drew. At this point they were roughly 3-4 minutes apart, so we did not waste much time in calling Drew’s parents. Angela very graciously drove through treacherous roads at 2 in the morning to come stay with the girls. I went ahead and called my doctor (actually the doctor on call) and got the officially OK to head to the hospital (although, I would have gone regardless). We arrived at the hospital at about 3 a.m. and I was 3 cm dilated. They held off admitting me and told me they wanted me to walk around for an hour and then recheck me. So I obliged. 🙂 Drew and I walked the very exciting hospital hallways for the next hour. I could tell over the next hour that my contractions were definitely getting closer (about 2 minutes apart) and more painful, so I was confident in my progression. The nurse checked me again after an hour and I had not progressed much at all. Maybe 3 1/2 cm. Boo! I knew I was in real labor, though, and thankfully my nurse agreed. She decided to monitor my contractions for the next hour and see what happened. The down side to that was that I had to stay in bed and couldn’t get up and walk, which I wasn’t a huge fan of, but I survived. I thought since I was not able to move much that I probably would not progress a whole lot, but after an hour I had progressed to 6 cm! Yay!

Finally, at around 5:30 a.m. they admitted me and we got to our own room (up until this point I had just been in triage). Not a whole lot happened over the next couple hours. I tried to rest between contractions, which were painful but bearable at this point. Around 7:30 a.m., the doctor came in and asked if I wanted to go ahead and have my water broken. The contractions were not doing a whole lot in terms of progression and from past experience, I knew once my water was broken things would probably move pretty fast. Since my doctor was suppose to get there between 8 and 9, we decided to wait until 8 and then go ahead and have them break my water. I was hoping if we waited until 8, my doctor would at least be there for the delivery.

At 8 a.m. sharp they broke my water and as I imagined things got really painful, really fast. In my head, I wanted to get up and move around, but I honestly thought I might pass out from the pain if I tried to get out of bed. So, I tried my best to keep switching positions and tried to sit up more than lay flat. From about 9a.m. to 10 a.m. is pretty much a blur for me. I was in A LOT of pain (excruciating back labor) and was just praying to get to that magic 10cm FAST. I have to say, Drew was amazing! He was by my side every step of the way and if it wasn’t for him I probably would have given up and gotten the epidural. He was, hands down, my support! Around 9:30 a.m. I started feeling tons of pressure, they checked me and said I was almost at 10cm, but there was still a little left to go. I made it through a few more contractions, but by 10 a.m. I told them I HAD to push. The pressure was unbearable. I could not wait any longer. Unfortunately, my doctor was in surgery, but the doctor on call was great and at 10:15 a.m., after pushing through only two contractions, our sweet, perfect baby boy was born. Langston Thomas weighed in at 6 lb. 9 0z. (my smallest so far) and 19 1/2 in. long.

Within minutes of his birth, my nurse realized Langston was having breathing issues (grunting instead of crying) and a NICU nurse was called into the room. She observed him for a couple minutes and then told us she needed to take him to NICU for observation for a couple hours. They assured us that it was probably just a little fluid in his lungs and probably nothing of concern. They let me hold him for about a minute and then took him away (Drew didn’t get to hold him at all). Nothing could have prepared me for that. The only thing that got me through 9 hours of labor, was knowing that at the end I would get to hold and enjoy my precious son. Cuddle him, snuggle him, kiss him, love him. None of that was possible, though, and while I was so thankful for a great hospital and staff that knew something was wrong, my heart hurt and my arms were empty. This will probably sound ridiculous, but with the girls, as soon as they were delivered I forgot about the physical pain I was in because I had them in my arms and that is all I cared about in that moment. I honestly do not remember with them delivering the placenta or being stitched up (sorry if that is TMI), because I was enjoying them and consumed with them. It was different with Langston. I vividly remember still being in a lot of pain after delivering him. I still felt every contraction after delivery. I don’t think I was in any more pain necessarily than my previous deliveries,  I just believe it was because he wasn’t there to distract me from the pain. The moment I had dreamed about for 9 months wasn’t happening and it hurt…both physical and emotionally.

A couple hours later, once they had finished up with me and I was able to catch my breath (literally and figuratively) we went down to NICU to see Langston. It was at this point we found out they had admitted him to NICU and had started him on oxygen and put a feeding tube in him. In my naive mind, I was still hopeful he would be in our room with us by morning.  The next 7 days was by far the longest and hardest days of our lives to date (maybe someday I will write out my thoughts and the emotions of those 7 days-they are many), but God was good and gracious to us. It brought Drew and I closer as a couple (although, oddly enough, we hardly saw each other at all that week) and I personally felt a deeper sense of the love of Christ through the love and care that was shown to us by our family and friends.

January 15th was a very, very happy day. At noon Langston was released from the NICU and we finally were able to introduce the little fellow for the first time to his very proud big sisters. We did not care about much else that day, except that we were HOME as a family of five. 🙂

So, there you have it. It was not the birth experience I was hoping for or dreaming of, but the Lord had a plan and as hard as it was, we were and are confident it was a GOOD plan. We are SO thankful for Langston and the 4 weeks we have had with him. I love him more than words can say and am very happy to be his mama!

Congratulations if you actually read that entire story. 🙂