Can I be so obvious as to start this by saying the best things are worth waiting for?

After 40 weeks and 5 days of waiting to meet our little mystery man, he decided to make his way into this world — and now ours will never be the same.

The start of it all

The day before I went into labor was a Thursday, and my sixth day off work waiting for him with nothing to do but obsess about his impending arrival — or impending induction. I was exhausted from two weeks worth of old wives’ tales and decided to stop the madness. No more acupuncture! No more dates! No more raspberry leaf tea! Not even another walk! I was just done, and spent most of the day reading by the pool.

Friday morning around 3:30am, I woke up with some light cramps and tried not to let myself get my hopes up again. But that was a lost cause as they continued on and off, and I started timing them to look for a pattern. There was pretty much no pattern to be had for the rest of the night: 12 minutes in between, 8 minutes, 19 minutes, so I said a little prayer in between each round that whatever was happening would bring us our baby boy.

At one point, I got up to pace around the living room (our cat thought I was out of my mind) but gave up as it seemed to make the contractions farther apart. I went back to bed and superstitiously laid on my left side, where most of the action had been happening earlier.

By 6:30, Jason apparently felt me willing him to wake up and the second he opened his eyes I told him that I thought things were happening. The contractions were very roughly around 12 minutes apart at that point and they’d been going for so long, I was reasonably sure this was either the beginning of the real deal or an incredible fake out for false labor.

We decided Jason wouldn’t going into the office, but assumed we had at least a few hours of waiting if not the full day for the contractions to get close enough together to head in to the hospital. Aaaand we know what they say about assuming…

Jason went for a quick workout to burn off some energy and I decided to take my last pregnant bath. I had no intention of laboring in the water (especially because my birth plan was: AN EPIDURAL and I knew I’d be in bed…) but I’ve loved my baths this whole pregnancy and it sounded like a nice way to spend an hour. I’m not sure if it was a coincidence or if the bath triggered something, but almost immediately the contractions intensified and started coming fast – between 4 and 6 minutes apart! I never thought I’d be a labor moaner but I went there pretty quickly.

Now certain that it was the real deal, I got out of the tub and got dressed and ready. I texted Jason that he needed to come home from the gym and called my doctor, who advised that I head in and said she hoped they didn’t send me home. (Me too, lady!)

If I remember correctly, we got out the door by about 8:30 and were in triage at the hospital 5 minutes later, thanks to the world’s shortest cab ride. The hospital is in our neighborhood and I had fully planned to be walking it – no chance!

At the hospital

Check-in felt like a blur as I paced the room and moaned (IN FRONT OF STRANGERS, NO LESS!) through the contractions which had progressed to about 2 minutes apart! Things were happening so quickly I’m not sure either Jason or I had time to process them.

They got me into a triage room within 10 minutes and confirmed that I was dilated to 3.5cm, enough for admittance to the labor and delivery unit. At this point, I was pretty oblivious to everything besides the incredible pain of the contractions. I knew there was an epidural in sight and that relief was coming, but I’ve never experienced pain even remotely similar to that in my life.

Our angel of a nurse, Izzie, got us upstairs to the delivery room and immediately paged for the anesthesiologist to come our way. Thankfully, I think I only waited 10, maybe 15 minutes for the epidural? I’ve read stories where epidurals have been delayed up to hours due to the busy anesthesiologists’ schedules — so very, very grateful that wasn’t the case for me!

Jason had to leave for the process and I thought I’d be scared at that point, but I remember thinking, “Bring it on!” I was so ready. The numbing shot hurt a bit, but really nothing compared to the contractions. The actual epidural felt like a series of odd pinches in my back and the hardest part was holding still through the contractions. I think it took about 10 minutes to complete but by the end of it I was already a new person. Like night and day — I was smiling and joking with the anesthesiologist and Izzie.

Labor

From there, things became pretty peaceful for a while and dare I say: pleasant? Jason returned to the new, happy me, and we chatted for a bit about how bizarre and surreal it all was that we were going to meet our son. My amazing doctor actually came in to the hospital for the delivery even though she wasn’t the one on call, and came in to say hi and check on progress. My parents showed up to say hello then we sent them to get lunch, thinking it would be a long time (ha, ha) and that Jason and I should nap.

We dozed off and woke up in an hour and a half to find that I’d already progressed to 6cm — I was shocked! I went back to sleep pretty quickly after that and woke up an hour or so later to a report of no progress. I figured things would slow down at this point and that I’d likely be given some dose of Pitocin. Izzie helped me shift from my back on to my left side and suggested using a peanut ball between my knees to help the baby make his way down the birth canal.

Delivery

Well, bless that peanut ball and Izzie because when my doctor came to check me again after nap #3 an hour later, she said, “ready to push?!” I was so shocked and remember saying — “But I don’t know how!” and she said she’d help me through it.  Honestly, I felt like I was dreaming. The morning was already such a blur and I’d probably slept for 4 out of the 5 hours I’d been in the delivery room at that point.

The delivery was quieter than I expected, and less clinical feeling somehow. For most of the time I was pushing, it was only my doctor, Izzie, Jason and I in the room. I think sometimes life gives you exactly what you need and that amazing team of three were the perfect people to coach me through pushing. They were so positive and encouraging, cheering me along through the whole thing.

Pushing didn’t hurt; thanks to that blessed epidural I felt zero pain but just enough pressure to know things were happening. But it was exhausting and I was determined to get our little guy out ASAP. I pushed for just over an hour before my doctor guided my hand down to feel the head — that was SO surreal and just what I needed to motivate me to meet my baby. (I STRONGLY declined the offer of a mirror to watch the progress myself. Thanks but no thanks!)

The room was suddenly filled with people as they’d determined that there was meconium in my water and they had warned me ahead of time that they’d need to check him immediately for signs of distress or infection. At this point, I started throwing up uncontrollably which obviously was not great, but I knew it meant we were nearing the end. I channeled every little bit of strength I had into meeting our little guy and before I knew it, his head was out and then his beautiful little body — screaming and wiggling but so, so perfect.

Hudson

They pediatricians immediately took him to check him out and Jason went to stand over him — I saw our baby grab Jason’s finger and just cried, so thankful that he was here. They did a quick cleanup and then brought him over to me for some skin to skin time and I got to hold my beautiful baby boy for the first time.

I remember our doctor saying, “that is a BIG baby!” as he came out. She was right: our little guy was 8 lb, 15 oz and 22” long!

We got to spend about 45 minutes with him before they had to take him for two rounds of antibiotics to treat him for an infection due to the meconium in the water. Obviously not news we wanted to hear and I couldn’t believe I had to hand over my baby, but I had gotten such excellent care over the course of the day I knew our boy was in good hands and would get the treatment he needed to be sure he was 100% healthy.

While we still had him with us, Jason and I made the final decision on the name: Hudson William. I remember Jason going over to write his name on the whiteboard and thinking how surreal it was that he was here and he was official: Hudson’s first day on earth and his birthday that we’d celebrate for the rest of our lives.

I was so, so scared of delivering our baby. A large part of my frustration of the last weeks of waiting was due to the daily anxiety over not knowing what I’d be experiencing come d-day. (That, and good old impatience.) And now that it’s behind me, I feel so incredibly grateful that things went as well as they did.

My husband was the best partner and “coach” to me through the whole thing — it brings tears to my eyes just thinking about how amazing he was, and knowing with total certainty that the same steady, positive, presence will translate to him being the world’s best dad for Hudson.

Life is weird. Now that my pregnancy, labor and delivery are over, I almost… miss it? Wish I could do it again? Not exactly either of those things, but maybe it’s more like a little bit of sadness that I’ll never get to meet Hudson for the first time again or feel him kicking and wiggling inside me. I suspect I’m in for a lot of that feeling over the course of his life and “firsts.”

But today he’s here, and I’ve spent a week staring at his always-changing squishy face, little hands that are constantly in action, and his perfect tiny feet kicking in the air. I can’t believe I’m a mom, that I’m not pregnant any more, and that I can hold Hudson in my arms. Time is already flying by and since I can’t do much in the way of slowing it down, I’m determined to enjoy every moment of this time with him. I’m so, so grateful that his life began with a such a positive delivery experience. Let’s see what the future holds, Huds!