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| One day old |
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| Chillin' in his little hospital bassinet |
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| Home! Big sister! First outfit! |
At church on Sunday, Nov. 23, I started feeling a little funny. I don't mean I was having contractions or anything like that - I was simply sensing that things were changing inside of me. I figured Jerod must have changed positions a bit or something, trying to write off my illogical intuition with some practical reason for feeling that way. However, my physical intuition was telling me that this baby just might not wait too much longer before making an entrance, and I couldn't help but kind of believe it. I thought, "Maybe it'll be more like December first or second when he comes."
On Monday morning (Nov. 24) I was awakened in the wee hours of the morning with a few pre-labor contractions. They were more than just Braxton Hicks contractions, which I'd been having for months, but certainly not the real thing, either. I couldn't get back to sleep and wondered if I was going to be having a contraction every hour or two for weeks or what. They kind of abated during the day, so much so that I even went to Walmart and the park with Zarya. That night right when we went to bed, because, of course, these things always happen just when one is tired and very ready for bed after having been up since 2:30am, I started having more pre-labor contractions. They were still pretty wimpy and were usually 15-20 minutes apart - close enough together to not be able to go back to sleep, but far enough apart and mild enough to know that real labor was a long ways off yet. So, I did what any avid reader would do and went downstairs and polished off a good read (On Viney's Mountain by Joan Donaldson, should you wish to read it yourself). It was engaging enough to keep my mind occupied on something other than wondering if I was ever going to go into real labor or if this was just a cruel, sleepless, tease weeks before the big event.
Around 3:00am, I realized that my near and dear friends in Tanzania were all quite awake, so sent them an e-mail asking them to pray that things either moved onwards (like, having a baby) or quit (so I could sleep). It was really encouraging to get several reply e-mails immediately. Usually the time zone difference between Tanzania and here is annoying, but sometimes it's really nice! Not too long after writing them, I was able to fall asleep for about 30 minutes. Little did I know that it would be the last sleep I'd be getting for a while.
Andrew debated going to work or not that day, but since all that was happening was mild and irregular contractions, it seemed silly for both of us to be sitting around waiting for something more interesting to happen. So, off he went. As for me, I decided I'd better pack my little hospital bag so I was ready, just in case. I also called the woman who was going to be taking care of Zarya to make sure she was around and knew that she might be needed that day. And then since there didn't seem to be any point in just sitting around, I made bread, did some computer stuff, read books with Zarya, and took a very long, hot shower that felt wonderful (Zarya got to watch two episodes of Daniel Tiger during it, so she thought it was pretty fun, too).
Finally, FINALLY at about 11:30 that morning, the contractions changed from wimpy to strong, and started happening a bit closer together. I texted Andrew that he should come home from work, and started making Zarya lunch and texted my family so they knew what was happening. Unfortunately, having some major contractions and taking care of a toddler and feeding her were quite enough to handle and my parents and sister ended up with nothing more than a text saying I thought I might be in labor. I kept hearing my phone beep and ring, but wasn't up to responding to anything. Andrew got home and took one look at me and said, "We're going to the hospital." I was like, "Okay, soon, let me clean this up first," but he had more sense than that and got us out the door pretty quickly. We dropped Zarya off, at which point I had my one negative thought of the day, thinking as I waved good-bye to her that sometimes people die in childbirth and I might never see her again, and even in the best possible scenario with a healthy birth, she had no idea I wasn't going to be around to tuck her in bed that night.
Since we weren't sure if our insurance would charge us extra for going through emergency or getting a wheelchair or something, we just parked in the normal parking lot and walked into the hospital. We went into the labor and delivery room about 12:30, where, oddly enough, the staff seemed to be semi-panicked that I was having a baby quite soon, yet they seemed to be moving in slow-motion (in my perception). I'm sure in reality they were dealing with three women all having babies at once, me walking in unannounced and having to be put in a room they don't normally use for deliveries, and just trying to find extra pillows and equipment was keeping them plenty busy.
Lots of folks came in to stab me with needles, check me to see if I really was having a kid soon (I was at nine cm when I walked in, so the answer to that was a resounding yes), and register me. It was kind of a negative blur in my mind - I was more interested in having a baby than having an IV line put in. My doctor happened to already be at the hospital to deliver another baby, so that was quite handy. She was great, as was the labor and delivery nurse. They kept complimenting me on how calm I was, which of course made me feel much better after being annoyed that they weren't letting me push yet.
Finally they had everything all arranged and ready and said I was ready, too. I have no idea what time it was by then - maybe 1:30 or something. When Zarya was born, I only had to push a few times and then there she was, so I thought it would be similar. I have no right to complain about anything, knowing that many women push for hours, but honestly, when one is thinking three pushes will bring forth a baby, having to push like 10 times feels like a lot. But at 1:47, out came little Jerod Ezra!
With Zarya's birth, we went home two hours afterward and spent the night at our own house. This time, though, I had to stay in the hospital overnight. I discovered that various staff come in and out at all hours, waking you up to ask you a question they had forgotten during registration (if I had a living will), taking your blood pressure at midnight, meeting with a lactation consultant at 5:00am, drawing blood at 6:00am, etc. Let's just say that hospitals are not a great place to get lots of sleep. Everyone was apologetic for waking me up or keeping me awake at odd hours right after having a baby, but it still happened.
And now we're home. Jerod enjoys sleeping, except between the hours of 8:00pm and midnight. Sometimes he likes to eat. He loves to be held. If you live nearby, he might appreciate visitors, too!
