Sam was born on February 2nd. Groundhog's Day. We actually got to pick his date of birth. When I had gone to the doctor after Avery was a week late they said that the fluid was low and they needed to induce me. They looked at the ultrasound and told me that they expected her to be around 8lbs. Not bad for being a week overdue. I didn't even get very far in labor, and her heart rate kept dropping. They didn't know if she was wrapped up in her cord or what, but she wasn't going to tolerate labor if she was already stressing and I didn't feel any contractions yet. So they whisked me away down the hall to perform an emergency Csection. Not my plan, but I had already decided that the goal of the day was to have a healthy baby and not get stressed on the "plan" for delivery. When she was born, she was 9lbs and 14 oz (they obviously just guessed before and were WAY off!) and there was meconium. Any of these things could have contributed to her being stressed out (lack of room, poop in there, low fluid, etc...) This is why they let me decide if I wanted to have another Csection with Sam.
I was a little leery of deciding to have a csection again. It was a bit painful. But, we decided to do it again and got to pick our delivery date... 2/2/11. :) Jon thought it would be easy to remember! lol! In fact, when I look back, I really do like the memory of his birth. We were scheduled to be the first csection of the day at 8:30 am. This meant we had to be there at 6:30. Normally, I'm not at all excited about being anywhere by 6:30 am. But, this time it was different. Neither Jon, nor I, could sleep. We were too excited. My mom had slept over and stayed in bed with Ava while we got up and left for the hospital. She would give her breakfast and come to the hospital when we called her later.
As soon as we got up we noticed the ice. There was an ice storm the night before. At 6am, everything was cold and dark and quiet and glistening... Jon made sure to scrape the patio and the car and such, but we were ready. We prayed before we left. For safety, for the surgery and for peace. We drove to Women & Babies Hospital (which is only a five minutes or so from our house) very slowly because of the ice. The road was virtually empty. Schools were being cancelled and a lot of businesses were closed. It was just us and this glisteny, quiet world. One last drive before our world got flipped upside down again. It was if God wanted us to slow down and take a moment to reflect before our lives got a bit more chaotic. It was awesome.
Even when we got to the hospital it was quiet. There weren't a ton of people milling around because it was so early and even the ladies at the intake desk for scheduled csections were just getting in for the day. Everyone was calm. Everyone. Even me. We met with the nurses and anesthesiologists and finally the doctor. All was smooth. We were told that we'd have to be bumped back to the second slot of the day because someone had an emergency csection ahead of us. No biggie. I was remembering how they'd done that for me when I had Ava. We were ready. I went in and got prepped for surgery. Still, no stress. God had given us that peace we had asked for. Even though I was numbed, I was still aware that no one else was stressing either. They were talking about their kids and one guy wanted to convince his wife to buy into alpacas... :) No, I was not THAT drugged up...YET. Jon was right beside me. Making me laugh and smile the whole time.
And then... There was a wail! This little boy who had been making me have heartburn, was finally out and screaming like crazy. It was the best scream ever. He was NOT happy. People were roughing him up, pricking him, measuring and weighing him, and Daddy was over there snapping pictures of the screaming little man. 8lbs, 14oz. If we would have let him cook as long as Ava did (an extra week and a half) he probably would have been a "biggie" too. And then they swaddled him... Still screaming. And brought him over to me. I finally said his name and got to hold him and he stopped. He just stopped crying and tried to place the voice. He seemed to know it was me. (Maybe not, but I'm going to say that's what it was.) I had talked to him and near him for nine months. He calmed down. (Don't worry. That didn't last too long.) But in that moment, I knew my life was absolutely amazing and that I was the most blessed girl on the planet. Thank you, Lord.
Now, this messy little kid sits at my table and dumps food on the floor for the dog. He walks around the house and tries to chase his sister (who loves EVERY moment of it.) He wipes his nose on the dog and puts everything into his mouth (or tries to shove it in mine.) And in those moments, when I look at the two beautiful blessings that God has given me laughing and giggling on the floor... I am reminded again that my life is absolutely amazing and that I am the most blessed girl on the planet. Thank you, Lord... again.
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