Friday, April 6th

Tonight I feel gratitude. Exhaustion.  Apprehension about the lack of sleep I know I will get tonight. But oh so grateful. My two boys are home snug in their beds, and Logan is finally here, hanging out on the bed with daddy while I shower and do things to feel human again. I have the perfect little family. They are worth all the work because I feel like I get so much more from them than I give.

Logan Jacob arrived at 11:24 am on Wednesday, March 4, 2012. My labor was something of a dream. I still can’t believe it was mine, that I know someone that had that kind of labor, and it was me. Tuesday late night, which would technically be Wednesday, I started having some little contractions. Nothing closer than 15-20 minutes apart. That started about 2 am, so I got no sleep because I woke up every 15 minutes with contractions. They were small, not painful, but enough to keep waking me up. Jacob and I were up anyway because someone thought it would be funny to ring our doorbell at 2:15 am. So he was out patrolling around our house with his gun making sure everything was safe. He didn’t get to sleep until about 4 am after the police came. Apparently this stuff has been happening a lot in our neighborhood. Anyway, I wasn’t able to fall asleep, so I finally got up at 5:30 am, certain that my silly contractions were not labor because they just weren’t the stuff that labors are made of.

At about 6 am, the contractions moved to 10 minutes apart. Still pretty small, and I was certain that it would all just go away. After a few hours they were still going, about 6-10 minutes apart. I think that was when I considered that I might be in for a long labor or something. I woke Jacob up, though, and told him we were going to go to the hospital since I had tested positive for the GBS thing and needed to get there earlier anyway. I figured I was around a 3 by then, and I wanted an epidural this time. Teagan’s labor was intense, even though the pain didn’t hit until I was a 9, and after being so sick this past week, I just didn’t have the energy or the will to go naturally. Not this time. I couldn’t do Teagan’s labor again being so sick and drained of energy. My contractions stayed regular, but far apart. They were getting more intense, though, and I was thinking I may have been a 4 or 5 by then. At least that’s how the contractions felt.

I called my mom around 7am, and she and my brother Joe headed to my house. Joe was going to watch the boys for us, and he was going to bring my mom to my house to ride with us to the hospital. But Joe had already headed to his morning class, so my mom had to call him back which meant they wouldn’t be to my house for about 45 more minutes. With my contractions being so far apart, I figured that was no biggie. But then I had a few that felt more serious, so I decided that we should just go. I called Melissa Hanseen, and she sent her girls over to stay at my house until my brother got here to watch the boys. They were still sleeping, and I didn’t want to wake them. Once Allie and Ashlyn got here, Jacob and I were all ready to head off to the hospital, so we left as soon as they arrived. We got to the hospital about 9 am. My contractions had slowed to 10 minutes apart, so I was thinking they would just send me home. While the nurse was checking me in, she asked how far I lived, and I was pretty sure she was thinking I was going back home since I had about only two contractions in the 20 minutes it took her to ask me questions and get me hooked up to machines. After doing all that and Jacob filling out paper work, she checked me. And I was an 8. She was in disbelief. I was in disbelief. I even told her that there was no way that could be right because I wasn’t really in pain and my contractions were 10 minutes apart. But she assured me that I was an 8, and they were calling Charlene immediately.

It sounds funny, but I was really disappointed to be an 8. I just felt fear. I felt my chances for getting an epidural gone. Out the window. And I remembered Teagan’s labor so vividly – that exquisite pain I felt once I hit a 9, and I just could not even think of doing that. I was coughing like crazy still. I was tired. I hadn’t slept the whole night and pretty much the previous week before that. I didn’t want anyone to know how incapable I felt of going naturally. I told the nurse I wanted an epidural, and she was skeptical because I was so far along. I even went early this time to avoid being too far. Who has contractions 10 minutes apart and is dilated to an 8? Once my nurse midwife got there, I told her I wanted an epidural. She knew I had been sick, and she was fine with whatever I wanted. For about an hour I stayed at an 8, contracting every 10 minutes, really not in much pain at all. The anesthesiologist came, talked to me about getting an epidural, and then was informed that I was an 8.  He told me that he didn’t think it was worth it, and that if it were his wife he would advise her not to do it because I was just about done. After talking to him, I was pretty defeated, thinking that the pain was just around the corner and now there would be no epidural to stop it. But I completely agreed with everything he said, so I felt good after talking to him and Jacob and deciding not to do it. After the anesthesiologist left, Jacob and I were in the room alone, and I told him how scared I was, how I just didn’t have faith in my body and my mind to be able to do that pain in my sick condition. My sweet and amazing husband assured me that he knew that I could do it and that he would be right beside me. He was. He was perfect through everything, and he made me feel like I really could do it. After talking alone with Jacob I called Charlene in, and she came in and checked me and broke my water. I was a 9 then, still not in pain, and still contracting every 10 minutes. The nurse would watch the monitor and ask me how my contraction was, and I would have no idea what she was talking about. She would say, “How was that one?” And I finally said, “I don’t feel anything. There is no way I’m having a contraction now. I would feel it.” But apparently I was contracting and not feeling it. That’s what was so amazing. I kept waiting for that I’m-going-to-die-pain. It didn’t come.

After Charlene broke my water, I had one contraction and I breathed through it, waiting for it to get bad. But it didn’t, and I was still smiling. About 10 minutes later the next contraction came, and it wasn’t just a contraction. It was my body bearing down, beginning to push, and then I felt that pain. From one painless contraction to the next I was ready to push. It was amazing how it transitioned, and though I felt that pain, I knew my labor was just about over before it even began for me. One contraction that felt bad and then I was pushing. It wasn’t the pushing that I was afraid of. That’s painful but bearable because you know it’s just about over. It was the pain before feeling pushy, the pain I never got, and I was amazed that it could go so easily, so quickly. I pushed for 10 minutes, and Charlene and my nurse and Jacob were so encouraging. I heard them reminding me that it was almost over. I could hear Charlene telling me how good I was doing. I watched my mom and mother-in-law glow with excitement with every push as they watched Logan’s head finally emerge. Pushing was painful, but that’s the only pain that I felt the entire labor. And it was a measly 10 minutes of pushing. When Logan was out and it was over, I think I sat in amazement and awe, dumbfounded that a labor could be that easy. 2 hours after I arrived, Logan was born and I had just had the easiest labor I’d ever heard of.

I am grateful because I feel like it was a tender mercy from the Lord. I was so sick, so set on getting an epidural, and then not able to get one. I don’t think it could have gone any better in the end. I am so glad that I didn’t need an epidural. I’m so glad that the Lord knew my fears and calmed them and gave me a labor unlike any of the other ones, even though the other ones weren’t terrible but in no way a cinch the way this one was.  He knew how sick I was and what my body was capable of enduring. My husband was amazing the entire time. I felt his strength and his love, and him just being right next to me holding my hand was enabling. I am so happy that my mom was there and Jacob’s mom. My sister was still sick, and I’m sad that she couldn’t be there, but I couldn’t have asked for a better labor. I’m almost afraid to have another labor because I feel like it could never be that good again, that easy. It was perfect. Completely perfect.

We were at the hospital until this afternoon when we were finally released. It was only two days, and I was able to get rested and cared for, so I can’t say that it was bad. I had wonderful nurses. I was able to catch up on some sleep. I’m still tired, but that’s just what happens after you have a baby. You just have to expect to be tired for a while.

Logan is a doll. I love him. We are smitten by his sweetness and perfect little face. I’m trying to nurse this time around, but Logan falls asleep the minute he latches on. Apparently my boob is soothing, but it’s really frustrating to nurse for 30 minutes and him be sucking for a total of 10. Then he’s still starving after an hour so I end up having to bottle feed him because he will not stay awake on my boob. This is new to me since I’ve never nursed before. We’ll see how long this nursing business lasts.

I am in love with Logan, though, and grateful for a husband that I get to share this with. The boys also came home today from my mom’s, and we are happy to be home together as the happy little family that we are. Easton and Teagan would devour him if they could. They are so excited to have him home and out of my belly.

Here are the pictures from Logan’s arrival.

Logan and I with Charlene

Charlene and my nurse were fabulous!

And some real pictures