Three Years Ago Today...

I published this last year on the day before Wyatt's second birthday, and I always love to look back on the day that we thought was going to be his birthday. Okay, maybe "love" is a strong word for what I went through, but whatever. It's the miraculous story of his birth. On with the story...

I was at the hospital. Wyatt was 9 days late and I was being induced. Brian and I spent the night before getting everything in order...dropping Noelle off, picking up a few things for the hospital, and just enjoying our last night together with no kids.

We woke up at 6am so that we could call the hospital at 7 to make sure there was a Labor & Delivery room for us. There was an opening, so we packed up and moved out! We stopped at Target (I know, we seriously have a problem) on the way and got to the hospital at 7:30.
Let me just say, this was NOT how I pictured my delivery. There was going to be water breaking. Rushing around. No painkillers or drugs of any kind. Then the Pitocin showed up. The contractions hurt, but I was convinced I could make it through. I just needed my balance ball. Our Prepared Childbirth Instructor said that balance balls were amazing. Um, no. By 11:30 I was begging for some drugs. Not the epidural, just the light stuff. This baby is going to be here any second.

Not so much. But you know what was there? Chick-Fil-A. For my husband. My parents brought him Chick-Fil-A to eat in front of me when I hadn't eaten in 12 hours. Whatever, pass the ice chips. I still loved him anyway.
I watched some TV, attempted to play some Nintendo DS (an obsession when I was pregnant with Wyatt. I had to play at least one game of Tetris and beat my previous score before I could fall asleep at night). Still nothing. By 5 I was at three measly centimeters! Um, are you kidding me?

I tried a second helping of the light stuff, but like I heard in class, it did nothing. I decided to go all in. I mean, my "birth plan" was screwed up as soon as the Pitocin drip hit my blood stream. My baby was going to be born drugged anyway right? Epidural please!

Shockingly, that big needle isn't even that intimidating when you're having contractions. That doesn't mean it was comfortable though. I got a little stressed when Wyatt's heart rate started dropping, but we made it through.

Apparently the epidural helped me relax (that and the 85 Popsicles I consumed over the course of the day), because within three hours I was 8.5 centimeters. The baby was going to be here by midnight!

Except, that's where it all ended. The next hour there was no change. I heard the dreaded "C-Section" word. I convinced the Doctor to come back in an hour. I promised I would be ready. But I wasn't. This little charade continued to play out until it was no longer March 29th...