77

He's here.

After 6 long weeks of bed rest and 77 hours of labor, he decided to make his big entrance. That sentence says so much about him...six weeks of "please, please, please, Mommy, can I come out and play?" And then when he gets the green light, he takes his sweet time. This has been duly noted in our parenting journals.

Most women have their own perspective on labor and their own pieces of advice/horror that they like to pass on to other expectant mothers. There are times when a friend comes to me for advice on their upcoming birth choices and its tempting to sit them down and talk their ears off about my own experiences. But really, how is that helpful? Especially when the advice/stories err on the side of horror? I typically advise to find the place where my friend feels the most support and safety. For me, that place is home and not a hospital.

We spent the first part of our labor in the hospital, where my labor dragged on and failed to progress. No surprise there. I hate hospitals. I hate needles. I hate drugs. They make me feel threatened. I also really hate having to explain myself and my birthing preferences to a nursing staff that only wants to help me in the ways they have been trained to help. It makes me feel almost bratty and ungrateful to say, "No IV, no this, no that, etc." It just adds to the stress of it all. The hospital itself was wonderful, but I just didn't fit there, its not what my body or my baby needed. I cried a lot. I missed my boys terribly. We ended up going home after 18 hours, still in labor and very frustrated.

Laboring at home took a while as well. Little boy was taking his sweet time readjusting, alternately letting me rest and then making me sick to my stomach. My body started feeling really exhausted as the hours dragged on, but being home made all the difference. I could eat food and keep up my strength. I could walk around without needles jabbing my veins. I could be with my boys.

Things finally picked up when I decided to stop thinking about labor. My mom took me to the ever wonderful garden center and bought me half the nursery. We came home and I set to work with J in the garden. It was only a matter of minutes before labor kicked in full swing.

"Pain" is always associated with labor. At the hospital, someone came in to check on me every hour and a half, one of the first questions they always asked was, "What is your pain level." They would roll their eyes when I said, "zero" or "I don't think of it as pain." (Again, stuff like this made me feel like a huge pain in the ass to them). At home, no one said the word. I stuck the concept up on the shelf and let the contractions do their thing. Are contractions comfortable wonderful joyous things? Of course not. Contractions are awful, but they are getting me somewhere I desperately want to be at in order to reach my end goal which in the course of 60 hours has transferred from BIRTH to SLEEP.

We labored quietly and intensely until it was time to push. Like his brother Cubs, this little guy had his hand up by his face and refused to move it. Needless to say, moving him through my cervix hurt like hell. He has a bruise on his arm to as a little badge from our battle of the wills. I won't go into details, but I had a very rough 15-20 minutes of convincing my son to drop his arms and go through my cervix. Once he did, he was out in two pushes. My midwife hollered for J's mom and my parents and sister to "GET OVER HERE FAST!" so that they wouldn't miss his big entrance. J and I birthed the baby in an inflatable tub in our living room. I wanted to pass out after he came, I was so bone tired. I also felt amazed that he held on until 2:11 AM so that he could be born at 37 weeks and 2 days, just like his two older brothers. Creepy little perfectionists that they are...

The Babe weighed in at 6 lbs 14 oz. although today he weighs in at 6lbs 6 oz since he is BMing like a champ! We think he looks just like the Bear. Cubs refuses to leave his side. He wants to hold him all the time and lets out the sweetest, "No, no, no, MY BABY" when someone comes to take the Babe away.

My favorite moments of our first day together (not including moments that involved sleeping or doughnuts with pink icing) have been the quiet, still ones. Sitting in bed with all three of my boys lined up at my side watching Speed Racer, their little bodies quietly breathing in and out together. What a precious moment....God knows all the other ones from here on out won't be anything like this first one.

My in-laws leave Monday and it will be back to the old routine plus one, for me. Three under three. Lord have mercy. I have decided to concentrate all my thoughts on what to bake during nap time. Something with enough chocolate to get me through the week!