i’ve maybe got enough time to write out the birth story before mr. hardison wakes up hungry. ransom and avery are watching “how stuff is made” on netflix with daddy, so they’re at least taken care of for now. happy. quiet moments. i need those.
so, monday. i was two weeks overdue. i was exhausted physically and emotionally from no sleep and an immensely bizarre experience with impacted bowels the evening prior (yeah, that might be TMI, but i have never in my life had anything like that happen to me before and it literally felt like i had just given birth to ransom all over again–totally depleted, every muscle in my body sore and weak). and i was sitting at the birthing center waiting for an appointment with my midwife who was planning to induce labor, which i was absolutely dreading at this point. didn’t think i could hack it. didn’t think i could do much of anything but cry, really.
apparently God thought otherwise.
after beginning my appointment with lisa in tears and pain over not feeling like doing the inducing thing or the delivering a tiny human out of my organs thing, we decided maybe to wait until the next day. to be safe, lisa asked to check my cervix to see if i was dilated at all. i had maybe two or three random contractions that morning, but they were very weak and i didn’t think much of them at all.
apparently i was dilated to a very “stretchy” 6, which she now admits was more a 7 (of 10). lisa was in shock, said i should have been in transition at this point and didn’t want me to leave, but thought it strange that i wasn’t having any more contractions. all i could think was i wanted some lunch and to go home. so, since i wasn’t in any sort of active labor, i left and we just safely assumed i’d be back after while.
i stopped at bojangles on the way home and ordered the biggest thing they have on the menu with a God-send of a coupon (the cashier-guy couldn’t even believe they had printed a coupon like that, but was totally stoked to honor it. i love that.), intending to feed my whole family with that food, including my mom and whoever else would be involved in handling my kids while i birthed the new baby. the box it came in barely fit through my window. it was hilarious. i mean, just look at it:
that sticky-out knob toward the back corner is a half gallon of tea...
while i waited to receive that mess, i had a couple of random contractions, but nothing i couldn’t talk through, and it occurred to me that perhaps i should begin timing them. on the drive home, turns out they were about 7-8 minutes apart. i let darin know he should be heading home and that i was bringing food, and so we planned to eat and likely head back to the birthing center.
well, contractions slowed down at home for a while and i just kind of went with it. i started rounds of black and blue cohosh to help things along, but nothing really picked up. to be safe, we planned to leave again before 4 pm to get on the other side of traffic on I-77 (which is a beast at rush hour), and so we did. we left the house around 3:45, with me still having kind of lame-o contractions at about 5 minutes apart and not really feeling like anything was a big deal.
lisa called while we were heading out her way and said we could go walk around her neighborhood if we wanted, to help pass the time until i felt more like going to the center. she lives minutes away from there, so it was not so big a deal. we walked her neighborhoo a good time around and i had maybe three boring contractions that i could totally walk and talk through and then we just stopped and went to lisa’s house (invited, mind you… lisa’s pretty great).
we pretty much just hung out at lisa’s for a few hours, watched the end of some jack nicholson movie and the beginning of back to the future part 2 while i took more cohosh and timed out contractions. still five minutes apart atjust before 6pm, lisa asked if she could check me again and when she did i was at a stretchy 8 or 9. she thought it was funny. i thought it was kind annoying (not her, but the fact that my body was taking its sweet time to do something it had seemingly already done, and still i wasn’t in transition or even in very much pain). we made a plan to all go get some dinner around 6:15pm and meet up at the birthing center at 6:45. if things still were stalled and i felt up for it, she was willing to break my water and just get it over with.
ransom and avery were both born in the water sac (“in the caul”, as it’s called), and so part of me was a little sad to think of breaking my water, but the rest of me was just getting bored and wondering how much longer this mess was going to take before something substantial happened.
anyhoo, as we were settling our plans with lisa, i had a good strong contraction that i could barely talk through and thought “finally! something i can work with!” and they kept on from there. we left lisa’s, headed for a convenience store with a subway to grab some food, and as soon as i got out of the van and into the store, i had to stop and wait out a contraction. couldn’t walk through it–yay! i just kind of stood there, staring at a rack of cookies, while darin milled around the store. i made my way over to the subway after that and had another contraction or two in line and they continued that way, about every three minutes, until we got back in the car and made our way to the birth center.
lisa had called an assistant to come help with the birth, a sweet lady named jordan who was simply amazing, and she met us there and got the room all prepped while i labored fairly quietly by the bed. contractions got stronger, but not longer, and didn’t get too much closer together, and when lisa arrived, we decided to go on with the water-breaking.
after the gush of broken-water-sac-goo, i endured two more very strong contractions because for some odd reason i just didn’t feel like pushing (i was fearful… still not sure why… i think it was just new territory for me without the water sac intact and i didn’t know what to do), and then i pushed. like three good times. and suddenly there was a tiny goopy human outside of my organs and resting on my chest. it was great. and over just as soon as it began. 7:22pm.
an hour and twenty minutes of active labor. beats avery by ten minutes. totally okay with that.
eventually we realized baby D3 was a boy and there was much joy and laughter and happy tears, and it was a beautiful set of moments that i am really glad i got to be a part of, totally cognizant and totally delighted. i thanked God for turning my baby so i didn’t have to endure a lengthy or exceedingly painful posterior birth and i thanked him again for a very strange but interesting birth experience altogether with not a whole lot of pain or exhaustion. and i marvelled at the beauty of my newborn baby, my third child, my second son, my precious pea.
and i found his hair fascinating–this is the first kid i’ve had that came out with any substantial amount of hair–and it’s dark! crazy. i hope it stays! i paid dearly for that hair with some gnarly heartburn…
and so, we waited a while after the delivery to make sure everything was alright with baby and me, and darin and i realized in the midst of our waiting that the names we had thought we were going to go with didn’t seem to fit this little one, so we decided to sleep on it and let God tell darin what to call our son in the morning. when we got the okay to leave, around 10pm, we did. and we got to sleep in our own bed and it was wonderful.
the next morning, darin woke up with a name for our son and we loved it. we had put ”hardison” on our original list, actually, but the “daniel” part was all new. we get to have a little prophet. awesome. : ) “hardison” is typically a surname and after much digging in that vein, i discovered the name originated back when people got named for things they did or their fathers did and was given to a man whose father was brave and courageous in battle (“hardy” by typical standards), and later, by Scottish descent, denoted a man whose father was a craftsman. both of those things were favorable of father and son and we loved it. i’m glad darin chose it.
“daniel” is hebrew for “God is my judge” and we figured that was rather on-point, and would probably serve to help him if he really does wind up being the “hardy” son, as it is better to be bold and courageous in the fear of God’s judgment than that of men.
here are a few pictures from this morning of our handsome baby boy:
and that’s about it for now. baby’s awake and needing mom-time, so i better go. blessings on you all and thanks for dropping by to read!