Paitence Is...

My youngest was due a week before my brothers birthday.

My brother was #5 for my mom so it was easy to remember, since I was expecting my fifth.

I have 11 brothers and sisters,

so there is a lot of birthdays,

and because our whole family gets along really well,

there is no excuse forgetting anyone's birthday because someone will remind you.



I was looking forward to not being pregnant anymore.

It's funny how by the end of pregnancy you're just so fed up with all the symptoms:

the swollen feet,

legs, arms.

Aching everywhere,

and not being able to sleep.

Plus feeling and looking enormous

and having baby fists shoved where no persons hand should be.


Not to mention the guilt of not having the needed energy to deal with your other children, who does their best to ransack the house and make you feel totally inadequate for this mothering job.




I was counting the minutes to my baby's due date.



With my first I was 5 days early.

With my second I was 5 days early.

With my 3rd and 4th I was a week early,

so naturally I knew I'd be done early.




Ha.




Due date came and went.

Mid-wife and I made plans to do a stretch and sweep.

These are not pleasant.

Three days and two stretch and sweeps later, I got frustrated.

And then I started erratic contractions.

They hurt.

I thought, "This is it!"

And after a night of them, I'd got ready to call my mom, who was to hold my other hand.


And they stopped.


I just wanted this baby out of me.


I really was over due.

I had to get an ultra sound with all of my pregnancies, because I'm one of those lucky girls who still gets the lady-time after I'm preggo. Eventually it stops, but to be sure of dates I get checked out, so we know.

It's always been accurate.

After the weekend, my Mid-wife fit me in for another check-up, and told me after a certain time if I still haven't gone into labor an OB would have to take over my care.

That made me quite angry, and panic a little inside.

I had the Doctor experience, and I've had the mid-wife experience.

Guess which one makes you feel like a real person, like you're in control of your body, who does what YOU want? Who gives you all the time you need, and is only a phone call away?

(And in case you don't know, I like to be the one in control, at least when it comes to my body.)

I was on my knees that night, crying out to God, asking him to grant me relief.

Mom took me to my appointment the next day, where Charlotte explained the next steps we'd have to take to ensure the baby's and my safety.

And then mom and I went to Swiss Chalet for lunch.

I really enjoyed the company, thinking about how much my mom gave up for me, and for her being there with me, supporting me. She came when I called, even for a false alarm, and never complained.
I also really enjoyed the food, because it's a treat to eat out, and not to have to do the clean-up after is heavenly.

Contractions started again, soon after I finished my last bite, and so we went to a store and walked around after.

I was so tired.

Mom took me home, and the contractions kept on.

I swallowed a spoonful of Castor oil with a shot of orange juice.

Mom grabbed a nap.

Then the contractions got a bit more intense, like they were actually doing something.

Mom helped my husband get the kids settled, got my bag and a bucket, and got me off the couch to get into the van. That's when the REAL fun began. Two steps to the door and my breath was taken away. I got excited! Two more steps and another one hit. This was it!!
They got me to the van. I had to start breathing with purpose, and knew the drive would not be pleasant. I was upset about how much it HURT. I felt every bump, and I wanted to swoon and vomit at the same time. At one point I felt like my baby was coming out the wrong hole, and that scared me.
I didn't want to do this again.
My husband meanwhile had the music blaring, I guess because he was pumped and loud music makes him happy. It was our favorite band, and he thought I'd be happy.
I wasn't happy.
I hollered at my husband to turn the music off.
He complied.
To this day I can't listen to that song without being irritated.

Then, my man decided to show his mad driving skills, and took corners really fast, and slammed the brakes on and took off from partial stops quickly. He had good intentions, but I wanted to grab the back of his head and pound the front of his skull into the steering wheel.
Mom's soothing voice helped me relax, until the next turn. I think I swore a few times by then. I remember thinking the baby's head better be hanging out by the time I get to the hospital.

We reached the General Hospital and my mom grabbed a wheelchair and helped me in. I noticed something wasn't right with the chair as I sat down, but whoever was behind me pushing took off in a flash. By then I couldn't speak. My energy was focused on getting oxygen to my baby.

My leg burned. My right thigh. It was on fire.
I looked, but didn't see smoke.
Then I hollered and said my leg was burning, I thought it was melting.

Turns out this particular wheelchair must have been in a fight with someones bumper. It was quite mis-shaped. Usually my mother would have noticed something like that but because of the urgency of the situation she grabbed the first one she touched, to get me upstairs. The wheel was rubbing on the metal side, causing major friction.

Because we were pretty much there, I squeezed my legs together so they wouldn't touch the sides, but ever so often they would, and it would hurt more then the labor.

Finally, we got to the room. It was the same room I was in just a year and a half before, when I had my twins. It hadn't changed a bit.

My mid-wife was there, my mother-in-law made it, and I was examined. The bed was at an angle that caused extreme agony in my back, so Charlotte pressed the button to bring it up to a better position. It fell right back. I was LIVID. She tried again. It again went back to the stupid angle. We gave up, and I stood.

I hollered for an epidural, and Charlotte said, "Okay." And then I vomited, my water broke and a few pushes later my baby was out.

My beautiful wonderful precious boy.

I forgot about the waiting, the pain, the loud music, the bumps in the road, the jerking van, and the burning chair and broken bed. I forgot all of it in an instant.

I had my baby.