For the beginning of this story, see my Birth Story, Part 1.

I arrived at my appointment feeling pretty good, but a little nervous as to how everything would pan out. I really didn’t want to get flack from a doctor about my home birth choices, my seemingly high risk pregnancy, or my supposed geriatric age.

It turned out, I had nothing to worry about. The doctor was so sweet and understanding. She reviewed all of my issues and risks, but assured me that she would make sure everything went as smoothly as possible. She did reiterate that going past 40 weeks was not a good idea. I mentioned that I didn’t think I would, seeing as I’d been having contractions on and off, but she dismissed that as typical of a pregnancy with excessive amniotic fluid.

We chatted a bit more and then she wanted to check dilation, just to get an idea of how things we going. She immediately got a shocked look on her face and I believe her words were: “Girlfriend! You’re at 5 cm and need to go to Labor and Delivery!” My brain was saying “But I have stuff to do! The laundry! The dishes! Can I go home first?? I promise I’ll come back!” But I knew that this wasn’t my time to argue. She left to alert L&D that I was on my way and when I walked out of the room, I heard a nurse say “Do I need to wheel her over? {looks at me walking out} Oh, nope. She seems fine!”

I called Andrew to let him know what was going on and then called my parents to let them know that the kids would be over soon. I drove myself over to L&D, which was mostly just driving around the parking lot, trying to find a space to park.

I got all checked in and sent to triage for monitoring and waited on Andrew to arrive. It was all pretty boring and uneventful. Eventually, my doctor came and determined that I was, in fact, progressing and sent me to be admitted. Que more waiting, aimless walking, and general boredom. I’d rather be at home doing laundry! I did struggle a bit with having nothing to do to distract me. I usually work, clean, and go about my day during early labor. Obviously, that wasn’t an option this time.

Things continued to progress, but I still wasn’t really uncomfortable. The nurse began monitoring baby and me again, which meant being in the bed instead of walking. About that time, the doctor came in to very carefully break my water.

The main risk we were dealing with was a prolapsed cord, which could be extremely serious and result in emergency C-section (best case scenario) or even death. Needless to say, I was extremely nervous about break the water, but also felt more secure since we were at the hospital and I felt that my doctor was taking everything very seriously.

With great care, she broke my water and guided his little head down, to ensure that the cord wouldn’t prolapse. After this, I knew it was pretty much go time. I figured that, if I had to be in the hospital, I might was well take advantage and request just a bit of pain killer. I don’t remember what it was called, but they put something magical in my IV and I hardly even noticed when I hit transition.

Soon enough, it was time to push, which turned out to be some sort of wacky show. I felt like those cows at Fair Oaks Farm where everyone stands around watching and waiting.

Awkward.

Finally, someone suggested a squat bar, but of course, no one knew how to use it. Thankfully, Andrew can figure things out, even under pressure. He got it set up for me and once that was situated, everything moved pretty quickly.

One big push later and we were holding our sweet baby boy.

In an instant, our high stress, crazy pregnancy had safely come to an end. We were relieved and over joyed to finally have this little guy in our arms.

Bonaventure Blaise, you were worth the trouble, my boy. We are so happy to have you in our family!