That’s me, high on morphine and very very happy about that epidural that just kicked in.
It was Tuesday (August 27th) afternoon – I was a little over 38 weeks and had just finished my weekly doctors appointment when I started having more consistent contractions. Of course I was 30 minutes from home, running errands by myself. I actually think the best part was the woman in line behind me at Gap Kids who finished telling me that she went into labor in the car driving home from the mall… Great, as if I wasn’t already paranoid about having this child in my car.
I drove straight home and crawled right into bed. Then it was dinner time. And then a toddler who needed his mama.
Finally, around 8pm my husband
who couldn’t contain his excitement made the executive decision that we’re going in.
My sister who also couldn’t contain her excitement decided to just drive straight to the hospital vs. waiting for us to call if we were staying or not. I was the only one not excited because with my luck, I’d be having contractions for another week before I had this baby.
After getting hooked up and checked, I was still dilated to a 2. I had two options – 1. stay for a few hours & walk the halls to see if I progressed or 2. they could give me a morphine shot (in the bum) and I could go home and sleep. That was an easy answer.
I did ask her one questions. When would I know it was time to come back? Keep in mind for Mason, I had a scheduled induction. She said when contractions were happening every 5 minutes and I couldn’t talk through them. Sweet, can’t wait.
I hardly made it to the car and my eye lids were trying to shut. I told my sister I didn’t need help walking because I was excellent core. Um…right.
Once we got in the car I asked if we could get a milkshake. I hadn’t eaten since lunch and that sounded like the best thing on earth. A vanilla milkshake. And from McDonalds. It was also the only reason I stayed awake for the car ride home.
I came home and slept for TWELVE HOURS. It was better than amazing.
My husband worked from home so we pretty much hung out on the couch all day. I even napped. It wasn’t until 3pm (on Wednesday, August 28th) that the contractions started picking up so I decided to time them. Thank god there’s an app for that.
They were happening every 5 minutes and becoming more difficult to talk through. It was also getting closer to 5pm and all I could think was rush hour and Mason needed to be picked up before 6pm. I just decided to have my cousin take Mace and keep him for the night, hoping we would be having the baby in the next 24 hours.
We got in the car and sure enough, traffic. I was so paranoid I was going to have this baby in the car.
Ben dropped me off at the front where was sister met us while he went to park the car. Again, they hooked me up and I had gone from a 2 to a 3 in 24 hours. Except this time contractions were getting more intense and there was no way I was going home.
Oh, did you know they don’t admit you until you’re dilated to a 6. Also, they can’t induce, break your water or intervene any other way before 39 weeks. Gosh, I learned so much.
The on-call doctor came in and asked if I’d stay for a few more hours and try walking the halls. There’s no magic in walking, but seemed like something was more likely to happen doing that vs. lying down. The doctor admitted that she wasn’t all that comfortable sending me home.
A few hours passed, she checked me and guess what… I was STILL at a 3.
So, I took another small dose of morphine in the ass and we headed home, again.
My sister picked up Thai food and followed us back to our house. It was probably 11:30pm when we got home. I shoved a few bites of pad thai in my mouth before I headed upstairs to go to bed. Sure enough, about an hour later I woke up wanting to die. I could hardly breathe through the contractions. I pulled out my phone to time them and they were happening every 4-5 minutes for about 40 seconds.
I didn’t realize my sister was planning to stay the night until I got downstairs. Apparently her and Ben both knew I’d be having this baby before the morning. The contractions were so intense, I thought I’d wake up our neighbors as I walked to the car.
You know that fear I’d be having the baby in the car? Yeah, well my husband missed the f’ing exit (one we’ve taken FOREVER). I started crying. I may have even yelled at him. I can’t be sure, but I definitely went into panic mode.
It’s almost 1:30am in the morning which meant we had to go through the ER entrance.
I felt like I was in a movie.
I was bent over the counter, letting out cries of pain and breathing so heavy that I’m sure everyone was just starring, probably praying I didn’t have a baby on the floor.
I was that person.
They quickly wheeled me up and the same girl who’d checked me in the previous two times, was of course working. She took one look at me and said “ooookay, we’re just going to check you and get you right in.” I think she said I was dilated to a 5 or a 6. I was still high on morphine and delirious from contractions that I can’t remember.
Within 30 minutes, I was in a room, robe on, and the guy was prepping me for an epidural. Before the epidural could even kick in, my doctor walked in. Usually the on-call doctor delivers, but she’s a family friend and was not about to miss this birth. God, I love her.
The energy in the room was calm and light. Also some good laughs, which is guaranteed with my sister in the room.
Now it was close to 3am and all I wanted to do was sleep. The nurse asked if I’d let her know if there was any pressure. “Well… yeah, kind of, but I really just want a nap.” she checked and I was dilated to a 9 and no cervix. Yeah, no nap for me. So bummed.
I literally pushed for 10, maybe 15 minutes before we were holding our beautiful baby boy – 3:28am!
I didn’t get to hold onto him for too long before they had to pull him off me. He got a little lazy and forgot I couldn’t help him breathe outside of the womb. Neither nurse or the doctor had an ounce of concern on their face. I studied them to be sure. It was maybe just a few minutes before they were handing him back to me and I just held onto him like there was no tomorrow.
He was (still is) absolutely perfect.
It was like Christmas morning for Mason. Can you tell?
He was so excited, he nearly jumped out of Ben’s arms just to touch and kiss the baby. The moment couldn’t have been sweeter.
He’s going to be the best big brother.
Me and my boys, all three of them.
I have so much love for them and I’m so excited to watch these two grow up together. Mason’s already keeping a close eye on him.
The naming process is always hard for us.
We always said we’d be done at two so when I found out we were having a boy, I felt a sense of loss. I wanted a daughter.
When my husband and I were in our early teens, we fell in love with the name Grace and said if we ever got married and had a girl, that would be her name. Then when my mom passed, we had hoped it was a girl even more so we could giver her my mom’s middle name, Ann.
It took a while for us to start talking about names, but when we started, we began with Grace, which then lead to Gray. His middle name Baker is my maiden name, but also my mom’s last name and her business name, Baker Avenue. It was important to us that we had a piece of my mom’s name and Baker seemed very appropriate.
And that’s where the name Gray Baker Thiele came from.
I was surprised. I didn’t cry or feel emotional during the birth like I thought I would not having my mom there.
It was a much happier experience than I had anticipated.
I feel the comfort of my mom the most when I hold onto him or look in his eyes. He’s such a gift to this family and probably in more ways than I even know. In case you’re new to the blog, I got pregnant (not trying) a few months before my mom passed away. The full circle of life happened right under one roof.
Mason is also a gift, don’t get me wrong. He’ll probably be the one who is the most connected her with out of all of us.
Anyways, my boys have one hell of a guardian angel.
Gray Baker Thiele | 7 lbs 9 oz | 18-inches