Last month my little Maxie turned three! Which I have not entirely processed yet. Because it simply cannot be true that three years ago I bought my squishy Max home. Just like every quintessential parent says, time is cruel and it all goes by too fast.
I was reliving the day my littlest boy was born and realized I had never published a birth post! Middle child problems!! So in celebration of my boy’s third birthday, I am sharing my littlest boy’s birth story.
I left work on December 14th a little too cocky. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow” I said as I turned off my office light. There was no doubt in my mind that on Wednesday morning, I would find myself sitting in front of my work computer, answering emails and working on briefs. JR was 12 days late. If I learned anything from JR’s birth, it was that due dates meant nothing. It didn’t matter that my due date was tomorrow. There was simply no way this baby was going to be born yet.
We didn’t have a special dinner or do anything really out of the ordinary. I gave JR a bath, put him in his doggie pajamas, and read him a book before bed. JR was his typically hyper self. Running around in the crib, singing, and laughing. By 9:00, he was asleep.
I made my way to the TV room and turned on a show. Within a half hour, I heard a large pop and it felt like I had peed myself. My heart immediately began to race. “Oh I am not looking forward to labor.” I reached down for my phone, but it wasn’t there. My hands were shaking. I hadn’t felt one contraction yet, but my anxiety of what was to come was climbing with every second.
“Where is my phone?” I got up, frantically looked under the couch, under the side table, no where to be found. I yelled to Matt. “My water broke, and I can’t find my phone!” My eyes were wild. “I need my phone! How can I tell Micah that she needs to get ready to come! We have to call the birth center! We have to call the doula!”
Matt put his arms around me. “Go take a shower. I’ll find your phone.” I got into the shower and let the water fall over me. It waited for the hot water to calm me. It didn’t come. I got out. Laid down in bed and closed my eyes. I still felt no contractions, but I knew what was coming. It was just a matter of time.
2 hours went by. I woke up to a cramp. Ugh. My lower stomach twisted. What the hell?! I had forgotten this is what labor felt like. I remained in bed and kicked my legs in frustration. It did not help.
I left the bed and went to the living room. I paced. It did not help. I was annoyed. Matt was sleeping. My stomach was exploding. BECAUSE OF HIM. Ok, me too. But whatever. It’s his fault. I walked back to the bedroom and threw a pillow at him.
“What?!” Matt said dreamily.
“I have contractions,” I said. Matt bolted up. He followed me to the tv room. I paced from one side to another.
“Do you want to watch Bones?” Matt asked. The two of us had been watching Bones together. It was show we could relax and turn off our minds. I shook my head no. For some unknown reason, I did not want to be distracted. These contractions were a bitch. And each one demanded my full attention.
I moved to my knees, with my forearms on our chair. Matt grabbed the scarf that he used to raboozo me during JR”s labor and wrapped it around my belly. He tossed his phone with the contraction app on the chair and I would click when my contraction started. When I clicked start, Matt would start to raboozeo. Two hours went by. It felt like forever. “Why the hell did I decide to do this again? I am a moron! Why did I think I needed another natural birth?”
Suddenly, the pressure felt so much more intense. “Matt, call Micah. Tell her to come now.” Yes, it felt weird to be able to speak. It didn’t seem like it was ‘the time’ yet. I couldn’t say a word when I was in labor with JR. Yet,here I am, speaking. Obviously, we had time. I wasn’t truly in labor yet. But still. I should be safe. Micah (our nanny) should get here. Just in case.
Only a minute or two went by. But then my stomach turned. OMG THIS IS INSANE. THIS BABY IS GOING TO FALL OUT. “F…..CALL MICAH NOW!” I yelled. I waddled into the kitchen. I toss my phone on the counter, and I pushed the recall button. I called Micah again. Why wasn’t she here already?! Matt was running around. Tossing bags into the truck. Grabbing a jacket for me. I rocked back and forth.
A huge wave of contraction came. It felt like a strong twist on my lower stomach. There was pressure on my butt. Fu—-k. It left like the baby was crowning. “Matt, I am pushing!” I was leaning against the counter. I WAS pushing. It felt good to push. But holy shit. I AM IN MY KITCHEN. WHERE IS THE NANNY? WE CANT LEAVE JR ALONE!
“We need to go now!” Matt yelled. I violently shock my head. “Get the car seat in the car!” I grunted. My stomach ached. MOTHER OF GOD! THESE CONTRACTIONS. But I can not leave JR. He’s my baby. I can’t leave him alone.
“NO! GET IN THE CAR. Micah will be here soon. GET IN THE CAR!” Matt urged.
I dialed Micah again. My voice ached. “How close are you!” I could barely get the words out. “Five minutes” Micah said.
I looked at Matt in terror. This baby was coming. I did not have 5 minutes. “Get in the car!” Matt said. I growled angrily and moved to the door. “Call us the second you get to our house. We have to leave now!” Matt said to Micah. I walked out the front door. Leaving my baby boy. Matt locked the door behind me.
I climbed into the truck. Matt jumped into the car and gunned it out the driveway. The contractions were strong. I put on my seatbeat, but fu–k, it felt too restrictive. Matt immediately started to drive 2o mph over the speed limit.
Halfway there, I started to panic. “Matt, I AM PUSHING!” I yelled. And I was. It felt good to push. As I pushed, it felt like the baby’s head was crowning. I wasn’t truly sitting in my seat. I was basically standing, while wearing my seat belt, with my hand firm on Matt’s thigh. Matt was going 90 mph in a 55 mph. We rounded on to the side street that would lead us to the Minnesota Birth Center. We reached the first set of lights. Red lights. My eyes widened. Nope. I am PUSHING. THIS BABY IS FALLING OUT. MOTHER OF GOD I WILL NOT HAVE A BABY IN THE CAR. DRIVE FASTER. JESUS CHRIST. I AM GOING TO HAVE A BABY IN THE CAR. Matt drove faster. He ran the light. The speed limit was 40 mph. Matt remained a steady speed. I felt taken care of. But oh my goodness. The pressure was so intense.
“Hurry! Hurry! Hurry!” I whispered. I couldn’t truly capture what I was feeling. But I felt the urge to say something. Even if it was at a whisper. Matt pulled into the driveway of the Minnesota Birth Center. The car sped into the parking spot. Matt slammed on the brakes, put the car in park, and jumped out the car. He opened my car door, and presumably I walked out. I have no memory of this. The next thing I knew, I was in the Minnesota Birth Center. Watching the water of the birth tub rising.
The midwife placed her stethoscope on my belly, confirming that the baby had a strong heartbeat and giving me the green light to get into the birthing tub. The midwife helped me into the tub, and I lowered my body into the water. The water felt warm and familiar. After the stress of driving here, I finally felt at ease. All I wanted was to get into the tub because getting in the tub meant pushing this baby out, which means my stomach will no longer feel like it is being twisted like a wet dishrag.
As I settled into the tub, the midwife and Matt looked at one another. The clear water had turned deep red. “You are bleeding too much. We cannot have you in this tub. We need to get you out right away. Please take our hands so we can help you out without slipping.” the midwife said. The fact that there was so much blood did not register with me. All I heard was that I could not give birth in a tub. The only place I had ever given birth before. The thought of giving birth on a bed, outside the soothing comfort of water, seemed insane. But I did as I was told. I slowly climbed out of the tub.
The midwife showed me to the large queen sized bed. I climbed on and placed my forearms on a big green birthing ball, trying to remain calm. Matt stood at my side, off the bed. The midwife placed a warm, wet washcloth on my crotch and calmly said, “when you feel the contraction, push through it.” I nodded. But honestly, since making my way to the bed, I didn’t feel anything contractions. It was as if my body had pushed pause on the labor. I wasn’t in the water, and I don’t give birth anywhere but the water. Instead, I felt out of it. Kneeling on the bed, on all fours, like a barn animal. Without the water around me, I felt exposed.
Finally a contraction came. It felt terrible and wonderful at the same time. As the contraction built up, I pushed. I buried my head into the birthing ball and pushed harder than I thought I could. “There’s the head!” the midwife said calmly. “Now just one more good push, Lindsay. You got this.” Her voice remained steady and low. I didn’t feel a contraction but I didn’t care. The pressure of the baby’s head was too much to bare. I pushed, and suddenly felt a wave of relief. The baby was out. It started to cry, and I rushed to move off my hands and knees to grab my baby. As I moved, I pulled the baby with me. The midwife quickly intervened, assisting me to a sitting position and bringing my little baby to my chest. My little baby boy. My little Maxie. I wrapped my arms around him, kissing the top of his head, and felt a strong wave of emotion fall over me. My perfect little boy was finally here. 8 pounds, 1 ounce. So much hair.
And as for all the blood, the midwife never had a concrete explanation for it. They were worried my placenta had ruptured, but it didn’t. If Max hadn’t been born basically 10 minutes after we got to the birth center, they were planning to send me to a hospital due to all the blood. But Max wouldn’t have that.
He’s still my biggest mama’s boy ever. I am forever grateful he’s mine.