More than anything I want to write it out because I don't want to forget. Because I did it for the other two and, well, I am obnoxiously fair.
She was a week late. I joked the whole pregnancy that she would be late. Chamblee was one week early, Jacob was right on time, so it seemed right that she would be one week late.
Seriously. I hate being right.
I didn't mind that she wasn't early or right smack on time. I don't think I was ready on time. I had laundry to do and floors to sweep and kids to grab to and from school. When was I going to have time to deliver this baby? I was alright a day or two past my due date. But after day three...day four... I started to believe a few basket full of banana bucket things.
1: The baby was never coming
2: I wasn't really pregnant
3: People were accommodating my insanity by pretending along with me that I was, indeed, pregnant. But I wasn't.
4: The baby was never coming
5: The baby. was never. coming.
It didn't help that people would text me every fresh, new, babyless morning.
"Did the baby come yet?"
"Are you still pregnant?"
"When is the baby coming?"
"What was your due date, again?"
I can talk about it now without wanting to punch you people in the face. I'm just being honest.
I understand that you were excited. I was exhausted. Overdue. Miserable. Unslept. Impatient. And yes, maybe a little angry. I kind of pulled out of it. I probably just didn't write you back. Didn't answer the phone. And if I did, I was probably snappy. I'd like to apologize. No, that isn't an apology. I would like to want to apologize. I just can't. What do they say... "Sorry Not Sorry" Yeah. That one. I was, however, exhausted. Overdue. Miserable. Unslept. Impatient and maybe definitely a little angry.
::I vow here and now if you are ever overdue I will leave you alone to wallow in it. And when the baby comes, because it will come, I will rejoice with you and sing your patient and uncomplaining praises::
Anyway.
The Friday that Josephine was born, I was kind of bleeding all day. I hear that this should be cause for alarm. It wasn't. I called my mom, who was alarmed, and then I went back upstairs and took a few hours of a nap. #winning.
I wasn't having contractions and I didn't think I was really pregnant anymore, so you know, no alarming. Around 2 my husband decided that he should maybe put his foot down and make me call the doctor. Oh, alright.
"They are just going to tell me to come in. I just don't want to go in."
I call.
"You need to go to the hospital."
Of course.
I'm not trying to haul the whole lot of my other kids to the doctor for the -count it- second time that week for them to tell me that I need to go home and wait. dude. I've been waiting.
Kraig says we are going in.
Ugh.
My thoughtful friend who was furloughed had sent me a sweet message earlier that week offering her help in any way. I don't think I wrote her back. Maybe I was snappy.
This would be a humbling experience. Now I really, truly, needed her help. So I called.
She was home, and somehow had the heart to drop what she was baking and come right over while I went to be checked.
Our big kids were napping.
"We should be back before they even wake up. Thanks for sitting with them!"
Kraig rolled his eyes.
"No, seriously, it should only take an hour."
Kraig slung our hospital bag in the car. Eyes were rolled.
"If they wake up just give them a snack and tell them we will be right back."
Kraig pushed me in the car. Told her his mom would be here soon.
As we are driving he says, "You know we aren't coming back home, right?"
No. I'm not ever. having. this baby.
So of course we get there and I'm over half way dilated and they say there is no way they are sending me home and I should have the baby in a few hours. Well, that's great. Seriously, I hate being wrong.
I had been putting my mom off telling her I wasn't having any contractions and that she should probably sit tight. Kraig kept saying, "You are going to have this baby any minute. You better tell your mom to hit the road." Nahhh. I am never. having. this baby.
My mom arrived right at go-time. When she rushed into the room she was out of breath. Running from the parking lot. My dad had dropped her off in the circle so she wouldn't miss a thing. I think she had about a 20 minute buffer. Phew.
We arrived at the hospital at 3:30 and sweet Josephine Willow was born promptly at 7:45. From the time my water broke I had about 17 seconds before the insane labor started. I labored rough and tumble for almost an hour before I decided for an epidural. I had done a lot more research on things this time and knew that I could go unmedicated if I focused and did my contractions right.
Blah Blah Blah.
It was so hot in that all-forsaken room that I couldn't focus on the floor as I stared at it from all fours. I kept yelling at them telling them to turn the air down. They had it turned all the way down, to 60, and were putting on Jackets. I could hear their teeth chattering when they said "Honey, it's not hot in here. It's as low as it will go." "Well then I need a cold rag. and ice. Because it's SO HOT IN HERE!" I tried to remember the articles that I read and the exercises that I had practiced.
Blah Blah Blah.
The last round of contractions basically consisted of me yelling at Kraig. A lot. And sweating. A lot. And kind of moaning, yelling, crying in a huge mashed together mess of sound:
"I DO NOT FEEL EMPOWERED! I DO NOT CARE WHAT THESE WOMEN SAY. THIS IS NOT. EMPOWERING. GIVE ME THE EPIDURAL."
And he would answer, calmly, "You told me you would say this. This is what you told me to tell you. The reasons you wanted an unmedicated birth are- "
"I do not care what I said. CALL. the. NURSE. And tell her to turn DOWN the AIR when she GETS here."
So that happened. He is so great. He knows when to encourage and when to push me further. He knows when to get a cold rag, dip it in ice water and whip it in the air to cool me off. And he knows when. to call. the. nurse.
When the doctor was glovin' up to deliver sweet girl I looked at Kraig and said, "Ok. What's the name gonna be?" No, we hadn't decided yet. He threw an old faithful choice up for a hail mary and I agreed. Go time.
We didn't find out the gender this time. We wanted the surprise. I knew it was a boy. We had a girl front-runner name early on and locked it down weeks before the due date. We never had a boy name. We didn't need one.
When the time came and sweet baby came to, they laid her on my chest and we started crying.
The baby came.
It's here.
I'm not pregnant anymore.
The baby came.
The baby CAME!
After about an entire minute >>aka: forever<< I said, "What is it?!" And I will never in my entire life ever, ever forget the sound of Kraig's voice, and exactly what he said. "It's a baby girl"
He said it with such wonder, such joy, with a tinge of tears. Oh my. I can hear it, exactly, right now and I'm weepy all over again. But then I ruined the moment. "WHAT?" And then the real tears. I had really wanted another girl. Deep down in the pitts of my being, I had longed for another chance to pull out all of Chamblee's hand-me-downs. I wanted another girl.
And I got one.
Some of our family had come to wait and see. To celebrate with us and share in our joy. After some time alone, Kraig went out to gather them. I wanted them all in the room when he told them about our gal. I wanted to see the excitement and the surprise. I don't like to miss out. So in they came. And once they were all squeezed in, He said, "Well. This is Josephine Willow."
My sister in law squealed, "A girl!" and doubled over in excitement. I remember my dad smiling and I'm pretty sure he said, "Yes! I knew it!" with a double fist pump. He had been the only one to guess that she would be a she. The room erupted with smiles and oohs and ahhhs and I was so, so glad to have seen it.
I remember talking to my brother on the phone as she got passed around and introduced. He's got the best reactions. When you talk to him, you can see his face. And that's just the same as him being there, almost. He told me he was proud of me. I won't soon forget that, either.
And this. This is just the very best picture there is.
All of my heart in one square foot.
I don't know what happened with my big kids while I was in labor that day. I didn't think about it while I was yelling about empowerment and air conditioning.
Poor Bartell. I told her we would be right back, and we didn't come back for days. My bad.
We are so glad Josephine is here, and we are so glad for epidurals.
Until Next Time,
The Guff
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