Wow. Simply Wow. I can not believe my sweet baby boy is now an entire year old. Where did this past year go?? It seems that in an instant he went from being a line on a stick, to a pooch in my belly, to a teensy tiny little nursing machine, to this giant tank of a child that I am currently snuggling in my lap. I didn't think it was possible to love a second child as much as you love your first (Guilty Mom Secret #23), but it SO is. You sit and look at them the moment they arrive and know you were just so silly for doubting.
In honor of my Little David's first birthday, I think I will recount his birthday for my Unsinkable Readers. I don't think I ever told the whole story, just that it was crazy fast. So, without further ado:
The Arrival Of David Wayne Chapman, III.
As those of you who were reading my old blog at the time know, by June 3rd, I was SICK AND TIRED of being pregnant. I had already been to the hospital once for false labor and I had been through the ups and downs of thinking he was breech and that I would need a csection (something I adamently didn't want), to finding out that he had flipped and we could progress as normal. David wasn't too big, but my word was he active. I had gotten so tired of the lack of sleep, the constant battering and just the general malaise of waiting, that I decided to take matters into my own hands the day I turned 38 weeks, full term, on June 3rd.
The afternoon of June 3rd, Dave and I sent the Tot off to her grandparents for the day so that we could have one final day to ourselves before our family of three exploded to a family of four. I had already decided to do anything to get my labor started, and while Dave wanted to wait longer, he knew better than to argue with a desperate woman. So we took a two hour walk, ate some fresh pineapple, ate some spicy food and nothing. Irritated beyond belief, I asked Dave to take me to Steak N Shake, where we had a yummy meal and tried to relax. It was so nice to have that whole day with him, I just can't even begin to explain. During the meal, I begged and I pleaded for him to let me try the Castor Oil. It had worked with my mom and I just knew it would work for me. He wasn't too crazy about it, but by the end of lunch (and a few close bouts of tears), he agreed and took me to Walgreens.
We got home and at 4:44pm I took the recommended dose of Castor Oil, it wasn't too bad, it just tasted like vegetable oil. By 6pm nothing had happened and I was feeling pretty depressed, and by 7pm I was in some serious pain, but NOT from contractions. Dave just sat on the couch and laughed and laughed and "told me so". Dave's dad dropped off the Tot, and we put her straight to bed.
But, at 7:30, the contractions began. They started to come faster, and then slowed down and completely depressed me again, but by 9:45 they were about 5 minutes apart and we packed ourselves and the Tot up, and headed to the hospital.
When we got there, the contractions were 3 minutes apart, and I knew, just knew, that this was the day. I prayed and prayed over and over, as I walked the halls trying to get things moving and I felt a peace like I have never felt, just knowing that it was really and truly happening this night.
But they slowed down again, and the nurse told me it was most likely false labor. She sent us home, but not before giving me TWO Ambien (the normal dose for an adult male is one, for 8 hours of complete sleep), telling me that if I wasn't in real labor sleeping would stop the contractions and that if it was real labor, no Ambien would let me sleep.
We got home at 1am and put the Tot in bed and Dave and I crashed.
At 3:00am, I woke up on the toilet in the most searing pain I could imagine, totally groggy and thinking that I was in some crazy dream, and almost crying. Dave was talking at me telling me to hurry up that we needed to get to the hospital NOW, and to quit just sitting there.
Apparently, I had woken him up, telling him that my water broke and I couldn't move. So he carried me to the toilet and there my water actually broke, and he called the hospital and they told him to get there now. I was in active, active labor and the whole time Dave was running around trying to load up the suitcases and get the Tot in the truck, I was laboring in the bathroom, trying to make the bed and wipe the countertops off. We'll just say I was totally out of it. Ambien doesn't do you well when you try to wake up early.
Dave eventually dragged me to the truck, and then raced to the hospital running red lights and going 30 over the speed limit holding his cell phone in his hand in case he had to call 911, because let me tell you it was all I could do to hold on to that baby and not have him right there in the floorboards.
We got to the ER and the nurses took me up in the wheelchair while Dave got the Tot and the suitcases. I don't remember any of the trip up to Labor & Delivery, only that I just sat there trying not to cry because everything hurt so bad. When I got to my room, the nurses had to undress me and get me in my gown because all I could do was not have the baby right there.
They got me in the bed and checked me for dialation right as David ran into the room with a very sleepy Tot and the suitcases. He got the Tot in a chair, ran to the bed right as the nurse said "You're at an 8" and I said "I have to push right now". The nurses kept telling me no, and then I pushed really really hard and out came Little David's head. The nurses all started yelling and running towards me saying"No time! No time!! She's having him RIGHT NOW!!" and one more hard push and out came Little David, a total of 10 minutes after we arrived at the hospital.
I remember seeing him and wanting to hold him and thinking that he was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen in my life. The rest of that morning is kindof an Ambien induced haze filled with funny "Loopy Kristen" stories, including me calling a whole lot of random people at 3:30am telling them I had a baby, trying to walk to my recovery room a total of 30 minutes after I had a baby, and then doing my hair and makeup once I got to the room and demanding a "sitz bath" to a very confused nurse. Poor David had to deal with a newborn, a new mom acting like a sleepy toddler, and an actual sleepy toddler. I don't think he had two seconds to himself until we'd been home for three days.
Finally, I came out of my fog about 7am and started acting like a normal person. We spent the rest of that morning cooing over the tiniest, most adorable baby ever, changing teeny tiny diapers, showing him to family and friends, and laughing over his facial bruising that made him look like he had a mustache. He nursed like a champ, slept well, and the next day I was ready to go home with my new favorite son.
And so, our journey with Little David began.