The day was March 16, 2017. I was 39 weeks pregnant with a baby boy. I woke up on the couch and glanced at the clock. The time read 5:41am. I was going to be induced later that day. At 3:00pm I was going to be sitting in a hospital bed being administered medications that would slowly and painfully, but surely cause my body to bring a life into this world.
The day before I had spent most of the day crying and agonizing over the idea of this induction. At my 36 week ultrasound, baby was measuring 39 weeks, and, among other reasons, the doctor suggested we schedule an induction to make sure he didn’t get too big.
At that point, I was already uncomfortable and beyond ready to meet my son, so “Yes, definitely!” was my quick response. Truthfully, I never thought I would make it to 39 weeks. My other kids were born during that 38th week, so OF COURSE this one was going to as well.
That 38th week came and went, and I found myself in sheer panic the day before, thinking I was going to be putting my body through something it knew how to do naturally, but wasn’t quite ready for.
After chatting with a few friends, I calmed myself down and decided I was going to wait to make any decisions about the induction until I went in to the hospital the next day. My mom and dad called me and prayed over me. I took a nice long bath and spent the time relaxing and praying for wisdom and peace, but ultimately that my body would go in to labor naturally.
When I woke up that morning and went to the bathroom, I had “indications” of labor, and to spare you the gory details, I’ll leave it at that. I had a “feeling”, an intuition, if you will, and I started to get myself ready to go to the hospital, knowing that when my body is ready to have a baby, it just goes for it. (My previous labor was 2 hours from start to finish).
I woke up my husband and filled him in. We woke the kids up and told them it was time to have the baby.
They were so excited! We dropped them off at our sweet friends’ house for the day. I gave my two babies one last hug and kiss, knowing the next time I saw them, they would no longer be my only two.
Eric and I headed to the hospital, and at this point I wasn’t really having serious contractions. I told him to stop and get himself some breakfast, not knowing what the day was going to hold.
The time is now 6:26am, and I had my first “this is labor” contraction.
When we arrive at the hospital, my contractions were still far apart, but uncomfortable. They got me registered, wheeled me upstairs, and checked me. 4cm dilated.
Okay! It’s actually happening.
It was 7:33am.
I had to be given penicillin for Group B Strep, so they started taking my blood and poking and prodding with the IV.
For whatever reason, I’m super sensitive to getting blood drawn and IV’s and even getting my blood pressure taken. Well, my nurse decided to try to put my IV in my wrist versus my hand, and while she’s sticking me and digging around for a vain, I start to get fuzzy and almost pass out. The baby’s heart rate dropped, and the doctor comes rushing in to check me. 8cm dilated, almost 9.
Okay! It’s REALLY happening.
They finally get the IV in my hand, and his heart rate resumes to normal, but now they’re rushing me to a delivery room thinking this baby is coming any time now.
I remember telling the doctor and nurses how confused I was because I didn’t even feel like I was in labor. I was having very few contractions, and the ones I was having weren’t very intense….yet.
We get into the delivery room and they immediately break my water, which basically leaves me bed ridden from then on, because, ya know, fluid and stuff…gotta keep it contained.
I sign my life away saying I’m not going to get an epidural, (I’ll definitely regret that later).
I get my camera set up for Eric to take pictures, and am texting my mom, sister, and a few close friends what is going on. Keep in mind, I still haven’t had very strong contractions yet.
The time is now 9:50am, and things get REAL. I remember the contraction was almost like I could feel my baby move down and try to pry his way out. I told Eric to get the doctor because I needed to push.
Everyone comes in and gets set up, but apparently there’s still a little bit of my cervix left. The doctor said he could move the baby’s head around it while I was pushing, and once he did that he would come right out.
This is the part where I seriously, and I mean SERIOUSLY regret refusing an epidural.
I’ve given birth unmedicated twice before, and there was absolutely NO comparison to the amount of pain that was involved with this delivery. I traded an easy labor for the most intense pain you could even imagine. I screamed every time I pushed. The pain was indescribable.
But in between contractions and pushes, I remember the moment the baby nurse laid a little blue sheet across my chest and said “this is where we’re going to lay the baby when he’s born”. The tears poured from my eyes, and right then and there I was ready to give everything I had to hold the son I had waited so long for.
At 10:04am, Maverick Anderson Emmons came screaming his way into this world, at 7lbs 10oz and 20″ long.
If you don’t know our story, you may not know that Maverick is our rainbow baby. We loved and lost another tiny little life at the end of 2015, and waited, what felt like, an eternity to get pregnant again. So when Maverick was finally placed on my chest that very moment, it felt like my heart, though weary from the loss and wait and pain, had finally been put back together.
He was meant for our family. He was given to a mother and a father that so desperately wanted him, and a sister and brother that are dying to grow up together. My heart needed his, and every moment that I’m with him now, holding him, loving him, I am blessed by his life, and I cannot wait to see his life unfold before me.