The Big Day

I am so sure you are agonizing over the unfinished story.

There is a very big possibility that you do not care. 

Too bad. 

I am bound and determined to finish what I started even if I should truly be doing something else.  Like maybe making cupcakes for Pumpkin’s class tomorrow.

So…I left ya hangin’ at 10 pm on Saturday, October 30. 

I did indeed go to bed but I most definitely did not sleep.  After tossing and turning in the bed for about an hour, I realized that I was heading for a night like before.  I was exhausted due to staying up all night laboring.  Labor which led to NOTHING.  So, of course on that Saturday night, I was exhausted and wanted to sleep.  About the time I figured out that I would be sleep deprived once again, the little lad woke up screaming with a high fever.  Bless his little heart.  After calming him a bit, my contractions were progressing quite well.  When the lad woke up sick again, I reallyhatetoadmitit but I wanted nothing to do with him.  Thank the Lord my mom was there.  We woke her up, handed her the babe, and started passing the wee hours of the morning while Nana worked her magic on my very sick little guy.

I would sit.  I would stand.  I would walk around.  I tried watching a movie. 

Here is a pic taken around 3 or 4 am.  Yep, we were all awake.  The lad’s fever had jumped to over 102 degrees and I was starting to have pretty hard contractions.  My face was totally flushed so you know I was laboring hard.


We called the Dr. about that time convinced that we were surely on our way to meet our wee babe.  He told us to start heading in once the contractions were 5 minutes apart.  At 5:45 am we headed out.  I held my breath as I put my shoes on.  Didn’t want the contractions to stop again. 

As we were walking out the door I commented, “This baby really WILL be born on  Halloween.  And if he/she does not come in the next 18 hours, I think I will die.  Yep, most certainly die.”  We both knew that our second child would truly be born on our least favorite holiday.

But, when one is in labor, there is not time to question the good Lord’s timing. 

I had high hopes that I would arrive at the hospital and be checked and told that I was in the final stages of labor.  Oh!  I could not imagine another 20 hour labor.  The Dr. PROMISED me this time around would be shorter.  I had handled the pain just fine.  I am ancy, remember?  I like to get on with the show!  Not wait around.  It drives me bonkers.  Well, our gracious Lord had plans to teach me to wait upon Him.

And yes, I still question why he chose labor to test me.  F.Y.I.  my third child took 22 hours and was the longest and hardest of them all!  So, you dear women, do NOT believe your Dr. when you are told your labors will be shorter.  It’s a lie. 

Well, the initial check revealed that I was only 4cm dilated.  I was a bit disappointed but Dr. B assured me that this would go fast, especially if I allowed him to break my water.  We went over our birth plan to have NO interventions (DRUGS).  I was pleased that once again my wishes were respected. 

My nurse, Amy, was actually the nurse that came on duty right after our son was born 14 months earlier.  She was the dear one who realized I was bleeding heavily, only to discover that I was on the way to bleed to death.  She remembered me.  I felt so comforted.  Until she told me why.  Her comment: “I remember you – you had the biggest hemotoma I have seen in my entire nursing career!”  She remembered me by my rear end.  Oh yes she did.  I was encouraged.  Not really.  

I consented to the breaking of the water, took a shower, then husband and I walked.  And walked.  And walked.  I was trying to get that baby down.  Down, down, down in that birth canal.  Our friend had a baby the day before so at 9am we walked into her room and checked out her wee baby girl.  That helped to pass the time but it created a longing for our babe to be in our arms. 

I was ancy.

By the time we got back to the room, took another shower (I would like to tell you it was for hygiene purposes and that I also applied make-up but I did not wear make-up at that time in my life), the contractions were pretty much non-stop.  They were big ole’ ones.  I was doing everything to move around and get that baby out! 

I told the nurse around 11 am that the contractions were getting bad and I felt like I had made major progress.  She checked me.  Nothing had changed.  I wanted to cry.  I felt as if I was in transition and that I had to be ready to deliver that babe.  I was heartbroken.  UUGH!!! 

I think we walked around a bit more and I remember coming back into the room and looking at the husband and saying, “I think it is time.”  We shared our thoughts with the nurse and she said, “Honey, I just checked you.”  True.  But things change while one is in labor, lady!  

 At 12:00 pm I suggested that she page the Dr.  She went ahead and gave him a warning that he might be needed.  

Oh!  He was needed alright!

I was at a nine!  I had dilated from a 4 to a 9 in like 20 minutes. 

The Dr. came in to prepare for the birth.  He was being awfully casual about it all.  I asked to stand up and squat and they said, “No problem.”

I was standing up and felt like I had to go to the bathroom.  I told them that I needed to go to the bathroom.  The nurse took a peak and insisted I climb back onto the bed.  Apparently, the head was basically out.  I was willing to get that baby out then but I complied. 

I got back on the bed, pushed once and I heard a cry. 

I was having a boy.  I knew it.  I just knew it. 

The Dr. announced, “IT’S A GIRL!”

Thoughts of snips and snails and puppy dog tails were still floating around in my head. 

“What?  A girl?  Really?  I have a girl?  I have a baby girl?”

Obviously I was not too upset to welcome a daughter into our family at 12:20 pm on Sunday, October 31, 1999. 

She weiged in at 7 lbs. 10 oz and was 20 1/2 inches long.  She came out sticking her tongue in and out.  My mom witnessed the birth and we both kept commenting on how cute and amazing her tongue was.  We had to explain to the Dr. that every female born into our family in the past 3 generations had a tied tongue.  We were thankful to not have to deal with that with this precious new baby.

scan0003.jpgDo we look terribly disappointed or what?

Daddy cut the cord.  I nursed that sweet babe and was feeling so absoutely wonderful (compared to the almost bleeding to death incident with baby #1) that a nurse pushed me to the nursery to watch them clean up our new daughter.  Most moms do not have this opportunity.  My body bounced back mainly because I did not have any drugs.  Not even an I.V. drip.  I was ever so happy about that!  A couple hours later, I was sitting on the floor. No memory-making hematoma again.  Thankyouverymuch.

I had a daughter.  A sweet, puffy-cheeked little girl.  Our little pumpkin is most certainly the best treat we ever did receive on Halloween.


Daddy bonding with his daughter.  She is only a few minutes old and still wide awake. 


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