Delphine's D-Day

As a mother, I have found that there are few moments in life that will take your breath away quite the same as the birth of your child(ren). And true to form, the couple of hours leading up to Delphine's birth have replayed in my head, and in an effort to not forget it all, I decided to share my birth story. 

All throughout my pregnancy, I could never remember if my due date was August 17th or the 20th (it was the 20th). For whatever reason, I had the 17th stuck in my head...lo and behold, that would be the day of Delphine's birth! The night of the 16th, I told my dad and Eric, "Tomorrow, I'm gonna take the girls to the splash pad, and then come home for naps, and then go to the hospital and have this baby real quick!" I am not even joking when I tell you that is how it happened. (Speak It into existence, people!)

I woke up at about three in the morning on the 17th, having some cramps that were bothersome, but not necessarily painful. So I tried to get as much "sleep" as I could before the girls woke up. Just like we'd planned, we went to the splash pad...I had really wanted to give the girls a fun day with me before I had the baby. I had a few contractions while we were out, but still...not painful, just strong. We came home, had lunch, and the girls laid down for quiet time as usual. 

I started wondering if it WAS going to be the day. Not regular contractions, no pain...I thought I was going to have to keep waiting for this baby! Then, right before dinner, shit got real. I had to breathe through the contractions, but they were still seven or so minutes apart. Eric got the girls dinner, and I called labor and delivery to tell them I'd be coming in sometime soon. 

But then, as I told Eric we should go, Ava got pretty upset at the thought of me leaving. I of course got emotional too, and decided to stay until they went to bed (another two hours). I labored in our bedroom while Eric and my dad entertained the girls. Finally, it was time to say goodnight...Ava cried, and then I cried, and then Lennon cried. Not only were the contractions rocking my world, but my sweet little babies were reminding me just how much they love their mama. Let me tell you, when you're in labor and your kids express their need for you...it's like a huge love bomb that feels so incredible but also almost kills you. 

As soon as the girls' bedroom doors were closed, I told Eric to grab my bag. Once Eric pulled out of the driveway, I broke down. I cried, wondering how in the world I'd be able to love this baby that was ready to arrive, as much as I loved my other two kids. I cried knowing that the next time I went back to our house, things would never be the same. In short, I flipped shit because I was f*cking terrified, for the first time, about having our third baby. I cried for five minutes until the next contraction hit, and then I forgot what I was so scared about. 

We got to the hospital, and I had to stop for a couple contractions on our way in...the nurse checked me, said I was at a 4cm, and put me on the monitor. She then informed me that they don't admit mamas until they have reached 6cm. I tried to express to her that my last labor had gone VERY quickly, and that I'd really love to start my antibiotics as I was positive for Group B Strep. She said she would check again with the doctor...when she came back, she told us the doctor wanted us to walk for an hour before admitting me. Eric and I had already said everything we could say, so we just kind of agreed. (Looking back, I would've pushed back harder. You have to be your own biggest advocate!)

I took my hospital gown off to put my clothes back on, and in the process, I told Eric that we were going to get outside, and my water was going to break. Both of us were frustrated, but made our way outside. We started walking through the garden, and the contractions got stronger and stronger, and closer and closer. After about 15 minutes, Eric was trying to time them but they were lasting longer than they were separated. (Let me just add...nothing is worse than trying to keep your shit together when you are in the worst possible pain of your life, except for when you're outside and people are walking by on the sidewalk during this pain.) 

All of a sudden, I told Eric I felt like I had to push. He was like, "No no no! Don't do that. We're going back!!" It took us about ten minutes to get back into the hospital because I couldn't walk through the contractions. We finally got through the two locked doors, and I saw my nurse across the way. I told her I felt like I had to push. With a kind of "yeah okay" look on her face, she came over to help Eric get me to my room. I had to stop for a contraction, and BAM, my water broke right outside my hospital room. I screamed, and told her, "There goes my water. I HAVE TO PUSH."

Eric helped me get into my room, and the nurse (props to her for not panicking) told the other nurses she needed help. I got into my room, used every last ounce of determination I had to get my knees onto my hospital bed, and after a few minutes of some yelling, encouragement from Eric, nurses telling me NOT to push, and me not listening, Delphine arrived. 

Looking back at that moment, the fact that I had worried less than two hours prior about being able to love her enough, seems so ridiculous. In a matter of two hours, I had gone from wondering about this baby and whether I would be enough for her...to loving her with every ounce of my being, and yes, just as much as I love her sisters. 

It's so funny how we all worry and wonder about how life will change once a baby arrives...spend hours thinking about it, talk with our friends about it, look up articles and read books about it. And then, in a split second, the baby arrives and there really is no way to imagine life ANY differently.