Hank's birth story

Well, I was unsuccessful at keeping him in for an entire two weeks, but I think two days shy of my goal wasn't too shabby. Henry James (Hank) made his grand entrance July 2, 2017, at 5:54 in the morning. Labor started around 10pm the night before, and once again my children are disobeying me before they even exit the womb. I specifically requested that he come on July 1 (because 7-1-17 is a cool birth date) and for labor to start in the morning and for him to be born by lunch so we could start this whole thing off with minimal sleep deprivation (and lunch!). But labor started at the END of the day and lasted all night and we started off with maximum sleep deprivation. Maybe we'll have more luck with the next one.

I KID, I KID.

I never could go to sleep, so Steve went to bed and I bounced around and said Hail Mary's and timed contractions and thought nothing was really happening.

Is it me, or are these charts supposed to do some sort of gradual increase or decrease? I've got the Smoky Mountains look goin on here.

Not helpful

My main goal for this delivery (and the entirety of my "birth plan") was to get an epidural as early as possible. So after about two and a half hours of this random contraction timing, I woke Steve up and told him it was time to go. Then I instantly felt stupid because what if we get there and they send me home? Oh well, we were gonna be safe and maybe sorry. We told my mom we were leaving and drove the two miles to the hospital. Once we were there, we approached the nurses station. "Can we help you?" Um, excuse me, yes, I, uh, I'm in labor?

Yes, killing them with confidence in my active labor phase for sure.

So they took me into a triage room to assess me and check for dilation. Asked me if this was my first. Crap. Surely that means I'm going home. But....

SEVEN!

Seven centimeters! Yeehaw! And also, PLZ GOD TELL ME THERE'S STILL TIME FOR AN EPIDURAL. The anesthesiologist is not a 24/7 kind of dude here at the hospital, so my main concern was him not being around, not answering his phone, not making it in time to administer those life-saving drugs to my spine... But luckily for me, someone else took that fall and I was #3 for deliveries that night, so he was already there and ready to rock and roll.

He finally gave me the juice and then the nurses were kinda like, well you need to get two bags of penicillin in, so peace out, we'll see you in a few hours. So it took me maybe 3 hours to go from nothing to 7cm and then another 5 hours to be "complete." Fine by me- we took a nap (sort of) and waited for everyone to deem me ready. (It's hard to sleep when you know you are actively warping your baby's head into a cone via entering the birth canal. Yes, call me vain but I was worried he'd have cone head from sitting in there for so long waiting on this penicillin to get in!)

Finally it was time to push. That awkward phase where literally everyone is staring into my hooha like a crystal ball and I'm trying not to poop myself. Hank emerged easily (thanks, epidural!) and with the cord wrapped around his neck twice! No worries, he was fine, the nurse even commented that we could jump rope with his umbilical cord (nice mental image, right?) and it wasn't tight at all. He was wide eyed and quiet, taking in every little thing around him. Almost scary quiet. He let out a few cries to signal that he can breathe and speak and whatnot and then just laid there and stared at me. SUCH a sweetie. I counted his fingers and toes quickly, then realized that I literally had about eight ultrasounds where they did that exact thing every time. No matter though, it was a relief to count them in person. He nursed like a champ and for about two and a half hours nonstop. He got his little bath and measurements done before coming back to nurse again.

Thanks to my lady bits' "veteran" status, I had no tears or issues, and once the epidural wore off, I honestly did not feel like I had just given birth. God bless modern medicine.

He looks SO much like baby Sam to me. And one nurse even commented that he has a csection head which I take is code for NOT CONE HEAD so that's a relief.

This was my first time delivering at a military hospital, and it was nice and easy. Definitely no frills. I can't see paying top dollar to go to a special birthing center, when you can be ignored and keep your baby in room with you for free at the Army hospital. Heh. I kid, but in all seriousness, the nurses were great, the doctors did their job, but there was no nursery. Aka no break. The nurses asked us if we'd like to accompany Hank while they did his discharge evaluation. To which we both responded no. This will be our last kid-free break for the forseeable future, we can stand to spend the next 20 minutes apart, thanks.

Back at home, the three amigos were (not so) patiently waiting for their fourth.

They were all so enamored with Hank.

I was honestly expecting Molly to be the one most obsessed with Hank, and while she certainly is wanting to hold him/feed him/mother him constantly, the other two are right on her heels.

reading Hank books

In fact, Will is almost aggressively obsessed with Hank. If he is lying on the floor, Will slaps a two foot radius around him and does whatever he can to make sure he is the only one maintaining eye contact with Hank. He wants eyes on him at all times. Kinda like a mama bear. He leans in for hugs and kisses when he cries and has learned very quickly how to gently pat his head. He enjoys plucking the pacifier from his mouth and tasting it (Will never used a pacifier, but I guess has a newfound interest in them), and observing every diaper change, all the while acting like I am torturing Hank if I let the crying go on longer than ten seconds. It is an unexpected sweet side of Will that I hadn't really seen before. He is going full throttle towards the terrible two's (it starts for my kids at 18 months *shudder*) so it's nice to see him have such a sweet and gentle attitude towards his baby brother.

Sam, of course, is once again rocking the biggest brother role. He holds Hank like an old pro and helps whenever I need him to. He also told me he loves my tiny belly (which LOL); he is obviously the reining favorite child at the moment dishing out compliments like that.

Steve has, once again, been the best. He has handled everything. Literally everything. He takes dirty dishes out of my hands and tells me to go put my feet up. He wakes up for every night feeding so I can pump. He takes Sam fishing, he takes Molly on errands with him (counterproductive for him, always), and he chases Will around the circle. He also has taken it upon himself to do all the laundry and continues bathing all these children every night (THE MOST thankless job in this house). He has come up with dinners on nights when I haven't given it a second thought. He still goes to the gym daily (how, and with what energy, I do not know). And he even tells me I'm pretty when I'm hooked up to a pump at 2am with my saggy empty belly and stretch marks and boobs going like a dairy cow. He's exactly everything a good husband should be, and then some. And I have no clue how I was so lucky to not only snag him, but now four of his beautiful babies.

Steve thinks this is the last birth story this old blog will see. Sam seems to think otherwise. I guess only time will tell. I'm just thankful for another easy birth, healthy baby, and happy family.