Bringing It Back With a Birth Story: Parker James

So, the blog has been on hiatus since Peyton's first birthday.... you know... 16 months ago. A lot has changed in those months. As most of you know, we are now a family of FOUR. On November 10th, 2017, we welcomed a little boy into our lives named Parker James.

 I'm bringing the blog back because, what you do for your first child, you supposedly must do for the rest. #secondchildproblems We're kicking off the reintroduction of Life {R+S} with a good, old-fashioned birth story. Now, if you like reading all the little details in a person's birth story, then keep reading. If this kind of stuff bores you, then this post might not be for you.  You've been warned.

Parker's birth was not at all what I expected and very different from Peyton's. It all started on a Thursday morning. I had been going to weekly doctor's appointments at this point. Each week, the doctor would check me and tell me, "Any day now! There's no way you make it to your due date. You may not even make it to your next appointment!" Blah. Blah. Blah. So, I woke up every morning thinking, "Today might be the day!" and I left work every evening with my work bag and computer because I didn't want to leave it at school if I was going to be starting maternity leave the next day! So, back to Thursday, November 10th.

The day started like every other. I waddled out of bed. I waddled up and down the halls of my school and around the classroom. Around 12, things started to change though. My contractions that I had been sporadically having got stronger and more consistent. I didn't think much of it at this point though, but started tracking them just to be safe. All afternoon at school, my contractions were about 15 minutes apart and lasted for about 30-45 seconds. Not time yet.

I left work, picked up Peyton from school, and met my parents and Susan at Hobby Lobby just to walk around. While at Hobby Lobby, I continued to track my contractions. At this point they were every 9-10 minutes and lasted 45 seconds to 1 minute. I didn't say anything out loud, but I had a pretty good feeling that I wasn't going to be at work the next day. Ironically enough, Friday was supposed to be my last day and I had given up on going into labor early so I left my laptop and work bag at school. Joke's on me!

Ryan met all of us for dinner and I ate through the contractions, which weren't getting much closer together (still 9 or so minutes apart) but were getting stronger. By the time we got home, I immediately jumped in the shower and made sure our bags were packed and in the car because I knew we were going to the hospital at some point that night. We put Peyton down for the night and laid down ourselves in the hopes that we might get some sleep.

Around 11, I gave up on sleep and paced back and forth downstairs through contractions that were about 7 minutes apart. At this point, I felt like it was time to head to the hospital, so I woke Ryan up and called my Mom to come stay at the house with Peyton while she slept.

We got to the hospital around midnight and tried to check into triage. Keyword "tried." Apparently they were swamped that night and didn't have any rooms available in triage. So without knowing how far along I was, they sent me to the waiting room with another couple and told us it was first come, first serve and they would get me checked in as soon as they could. I continued to track my contractions in the waiting room, which were about 3-4 minutes apart and ridiculously painful at this point.

The finally came to get us around 1:30, an  hour or so after arriving. At this point, my contractions were so strong, I couldn't walk on my own. I think this little fact tipped them off that I am probably in labor, so they changed my triage room to a labor and delivery room and wheeled me down. By the time, I got changed and on the table, the nurse checked me and told me that I was 10 cm dilated. Surprise!  She tried to tell me that I wouldn't have time for an epidural and that as soon as the dr. got here, it would be time to push. Almost in tears, I told her that I NEEDED an epidural (dramatic at this point, but I was looking forward to that thing all night. Don't hold out on me now!) Our amazing nurse actually made it happen if I promised to not push through contractions and if my water didn't break.

So about 20 minutes after getting into the room, they were administering an epidural. Sweet relief kicked in about 10 minutes before I started pushing. While I labored all the way to 10 cm., I definitely do not regret getting that epidural so that I could enjoy the birth of my son a little more coherently. I started pushing around 2:10 a.m. and about 5-10 minutes later, things started to get pretty stressful. While pushing, Ryan and I overheard a nurse call for "backup" because the heart rate had quickly dropped from 150 to 50. Apparently the cord had wrapped around his neck once I started pushing and they needed to get him out quickly. He was born about 5 minutes and 2-3 GIANT pushes (not by me, but by my dr. who was baring the weight of his entire body down on my stomach) later, Parker was out. He was born at 2:33 a.m. They put him on my stomach for about 5 seconds...which was just long enough for me to see a little purple non-responsive body be set down and then quickly whisked away.

I'm not sure how long the nurses were smacking Parker around and trying to get him to cry, but it felt like a lifetime. Eventually, he started to let out little cries. I could hear the nurses saying that the color was coming back. FINALLY, he let out some wails and all was good. They wiped him down and handed him to me and my heart exploded!

Here he is, ladies and gentlemen.

Parker James Smith.

7 lb. 7 oz.

20 in. long