welcoming baby maxwell

around 3:45 am, on september 26, i woke up with contractions, but they weren't super intense so i just got up and walked around trying to get comfy. they weren't stopping, so around 4:15 i woke my husband up {it took a good ten minutes for him to actually wake up enough to understand what i was saying} and told him what was going on. he sweetly suggested that i roll over and he'd scratch my back. i didn't think that would do the trick...but i did, and within two seconds of him scratching my back, he was asleep again. i kept trying to get comfortable but nothing was working. this went on for two more hours, until finally i decided that enough was enough. i really didn't want to get sent home from the hospital but at this point, i didn't care. if anything, we would be able to get pre-registered. i finally got danny out of bed and we threw a few essential items into the diaper bag and around 7 am we were on our way to the orem community hospital.

as soon as we arrived, my contractions basically stopped {go figure!} but we went in anyway and checked in. the nurse asked for my name, and i told her, while smiling. i'm sure she thought "she thinks she's in labor...but she's not..." they admitted me to the back, had me change into a gorgeous hospital gown, and minutes later sent a nurse into check me out.

within seconds of checking me, she said, "yup! i feel a head! you are dilated to a four so let's get you admitted and start your i.v. you are going to have a baby before you know it." we couldn't believe it.

the next few hours were a complete blur. ann {my nurse} escorted us back to the room where we would stay/deliver the baby and then she started my i.v. and called the anesthesiologist to get my epidural started. by the time he got there {around 9:30} i still wasn't in a lot of pain but the second i got my epidural...i was in heaven. people tell you epidurals are amazing, but i guess you can't fully appreciate them until you are the one receiving it. after 9:30 am, i didn't feel any pain. at all. it was amazing.

around 11 dr. judd came in and broke my water for me to speed up the process a little bit. he estimated the baby would be born around 4 pm {i was still only at a five} so he left, and danny and i just hung out. still in shock. {i think it was finally starting to sink in that we were about to become parents}

at 12:30 ann checked me again and i was at an eight. she said, "looks like this baby is coming sooner than we thought!" and she went off to call dr. judd. i decided then was a good time to call my mom and have her head over to the hospital and by the time she got there at one, my room was filled with nurses and doctors getting ready to deliver a baby.

at about 1:05 they told me to start pushing...and at 1:13 maxwell scott entered this world. it was the MOST spectacular thing that i have ever witnessed or been a part of. seeing my little boy for the first time was miraculous. i couldn't stop crying. dr. judd made fun of me, telling me i was crying more than the baby.

but seriously, it was wonderful.

i couldn't have asked for a more perfect day.

Luke’s Birth Story

Like most expectant mothers, by the time 40 weeks rolled around, I was ready to have my baby NOW. However, I told myself (and everyone else) that he would probably arrive late, thereby hoping to jinx him into coming early. And I guess it worked, because two days before my due date, I was up all night with regular contractions. That morning, I timed them and was thrilled to find that they were only four or five minutes apart. They weren’t too strong yet, though, so I decided to go into work (my office was 2 minutes away from the hospital).

After about an hour, the contractions started picking up the pace a little bit, and since I wasn’t having a particularly productive morning at the office (shocking, I know) I decided I might as well head over to the hospital to see if they’d admit me. I was a little afraid that the nurses would point fingers and laugh if they decided it was too early to admit me (I know you all worry about the same thing deep down) but everyone was very nice and took me seriously. They hooked me up to a monitoring station, where I sat for an hour or so sipping juice before they determined that yes, the contractions were holding steady at 3 minutes apart, but I wasn’t dilated much, so it would be better if I came back when the contractions were stronger in a few hours or so.

A little disappointed, I called my husband (not wanting to be caught driving if the contractions stepped it up), who told me that his office was having a work party at Tucanos for lunch. Spouses were invited, and while it seemed like sort of a weird thing to do to go out to lunch in early labor, we figured it was a free meal of delicious food. So we went. While there, the contractions stepped it up big time, and by the time lunch was over I was about ready to keel over from trying to look perky while wanting to yell and possibly curse every three minutes. My husband’s hand was a mangled claw from my squeezing it under the table.

However, despite the painful lunch, I didn’t want to go back to the hospital unless I was SURE this was real labor (I didn’t want to be sent home twice. Prideful, prideful). The nurses at the hospital had told me to come back when the contractions were so strong I couldn’t talk through them (I never did figure out what they meant by that, by the way. I could yell the whole time. Did that count?) So I went home and tried to take a bath. Tried to watch a movie. But I wanted to die, so I figured that was good enough and went back to the hospital.

They admitted me, thank all that is holy, and things progressed pretty rapidly from there. The epidural wasn’t nearly as bad as I’d thought it would be. In fact, after it was placed I told my husband how much I loved it every five minutes or so for the rest of labor. Only a few hours passed, and I was ready to push. So I pushed. And then pushed some more. And some more. After three hours, they decided my baby just wasn’t angled right, wasn’t going to come on his own, and they needed to do a C-section.

The rest is a little bit of a blur, since by then it was 2 a.m., but after some slicing and dicing and some pain-killer that didn’t quite work, I heard the song I’d been waiting to hear: baby boy’s cry. I’m sure I’ll never forget the moment my husband brought him over and let me see his little face. I think the phrase “all worth it” sums it up pretty well.