Because a lot can change in a year. . .

It’s Thursday night, and I spent a good portion of the day at Alumni Chapel on Southern Seminary’s campus for a “Marriage in Ministry” conference. It was great, and being in that chapel on this particular Thursday really made me think about what I was doing on this exact day  {not the exact same date because of the leap year} last year. Know what it was? Sitting in that very same chapel counting contractions. This morning as I sat on those beautiful wooden pews,  I absorbed so much truth. Last year, I fidgeted uncomfortably. I don’t think I heard a thing that was said.

I realized that I’ve never really shared Mr. Boy’s birth story, so I wanted to record some things while I can still remember. Honestly, some of the details are already a little fuzzy. According to my sister, the whole birth experience was anticlimactic {for her at least}. When she arrived at the hospital, I was propped up in bed, completely relaxed and enjoying myself thanks to a beautiful little thing called the epidural. I think she was hoping for some action. You know, screaming and yelling in pain. Loving sister, she is. 🙂

So, to start at the beginning, I woke up on Thursday morning of August 25 {my original due date} around 6:30ish. This is not my normal. I was pretty sure I was having contractions.  I hadn’t experienced any Braxton Hicks contractions at any time during the pregnancy, and what I was experiencing that morning didn’t hurt at all. So, I wasn’t totally sure. But this mild tightening-release feeling was happening pretty consistently about every 5 minutes.

I immediately texted my Dad, and I’m pretty sure the convo went something like this:

Me: Dad, I think I’m having contractions but I’m not totally sure. They don’t hurt, but they’re coming regularly. 

Dad: Call your doctor and go be seen {his famous line}. I’ll tell your mom to start packing. 

NOTE: I totally abuse my dad with medical questions/problems. It was really bad when I was pregnant.

So, since I wasn’t in any real pain, I got on up and took a shower. I had plans to pick up my friend Diana {who had just had major foot surgery and was unable to drive} and meet Adam on campus to go to chapel. We were a real sight wobbling and waddling into chapel together. We met Adam and sat on the back row. She downloaded this contraction counter app on her phone. Every time a contraction would start, I would look at her and she would start the counter. This went on for the whole hour. By the time chapel ended, the contractions were stronger and still very consistent (5 minutes apart) but still not really hurting too bad. Just the slightest discomfort.

I went ahead and called my doctor’s office. They told me that I needed to go to triage at the hospital and be checked.

But I still wasn’t in serious pain, so why rush it? I decided to go to lunch with 3 other girls. I enjoyed eating and chatting it up. Saw some other friends eating at the same restaurant. Had contractions through the whole meal. I believe one of the girls I was eating with tweeted: “Just had lunch with some girls at McAlister’s. Pretty sure one of them was in labor.” 

After eating, I mosied on along to the hospital. Adam was at work or in class {can’t remember which}, but my friends D and Christy went with me. I had to get in a gown and they checked my cervix and put this thing on me to monitor contractions. I was only 1 cm dilated. The contractions were a little more painful but nothing terrible. Still very consistent. I remember being so hot in that little room and turning blood red, but I was still able to carry on conversation and enjoy myself for the most part. I called my sister, and I remember we laughed about the neon orange toenail polish she was planning to sport to a fancy, formal wedding {random, I know}. My friends laughed at me because I was so red! The nurses at triage told me that I was having a little too much fun to be in real labor. They sent me home but told me they expected to see me back within the next 12 hours.

D came home to our apartment with me where I proceeded to go into a complete cleaning frenzy. I think I vacuumed, did some dishes, and who knows what else. By the time I sat down an hour or so later, contractions were a good bit stronger. Our sweet friends Mat and Whitney {who happend to live about 30 minutes outside of Lou at the time} were in town that evening and called to see if D and I wanted dinner. D was hungry, and I was in pain but figured I had better try to eat. Contractions were getting much stronger. They dropped in with the food, and sweet mercy, I may have scarred Mat for life. There I was, wearing Adam’s boxers and a T-shirt, wandering all around the apartment trying to get comfortable and breathe through the contractions. They were really hurting at this point. And coming about every two minutes. We made it through dinner, and then Adam walked in the door. I was trying to let him finish work for the day, but D decided it was time to head back to the hospital, so she called him. The contractions were coming so fast and hurting so badly. I was sure I was at least 4 or 5 cm. So, back to triage we went.

1 cm! I nearly flipped. How could I still be just 1 cm! They hooked me back up and monitored me for a very painful hour. At the end of the hour, I was still 1 stinkin’ cm! I was thinking, how is this possible? I am DYING! {Note: I do not claim to have a high pain tolerance}. The nurse was sweet, though. She said, “You’re having a really good, consistent contraction pattern, so we’ll call you a tight 2 cm and go ahead and take you back.”

They took me back and gave me my epidural very quickly {which, for the record, didn’t hurt at all}. After that, I must say, it was smooth sailing. I’d say they gave me the epidural about 8 or 9 pm. After that Mat and Whitney and Christy came by. I remember saying, “I feel amazing!” C and D and Adam stayed with me all night as I labored painlessly. I think things got pretty humorous as it got later and we all got delirious. I’m pretty sure I said, “My legs feel like they’re flying.” Then, at one point when everyone was “supposedly” asleep my leg fell off the bed and I exposed my derriere to everyone in the room. I thought everyone was asleep, but the girls were laughing hysterically after it happened as I was attempting to quietly wake Adam: “Adam!! Wake up. My leg fell off the bed and I can’t get it back up.” I think I may have called him on his cell phone {from across the room} to try to get him up.

Around 6 a.m. on Friday morning, my family and the Rices arrived. Bless their hearts, they all drove 8 hours through the night to be there.


Then, around 9 a.m. my doc came in, checked me, broke my water, told me I was 10 cm and that it was time to push. About 30 minutes later, our sweet little Mr. Boy made his way into the world, and our lives were forever changed. This was his first of many pictures…

As I look back at this year-ago experience, I have cause to rejoice and give thanks. I’m so thankful for an amazingly smooth and safe labor and delivery. I’m so thankful that our families were able to make it in time for the birth. I’m so thankful for good friends–our family away from home– who were there with us every step of the way, even when our biological families couldn’t be. Most of all, I’m so thankful for a healthy baby boy. The Lord answered my prayer and brought him safely into this world.

Thank you Lord Jesus. My cup overflows.

3 thoughts on “Because a lot can change in a year. . .

  1. I remember this whole turn of events all to well. I talked to Diana while you were in labor…apparently she was responsible for your phone?? And then sweet Whitney texted me through the night with updates. I will never forget that first picture someone texted me (Adam, maybe?) on Friday morning. I still remember where I was sitting at work. What a sweet, prayed for, loved baby. Happy birthday, Mr. Boy!

  2. I remember talking to you on that day on my way home from school…I think you may have butt dialed me and were like “well i’m glad we talked because i’m in labor just FYI” haha! Anyway, I cried as well when I read this. (I’m already an emotional wreck being surrounded by pregnant women all day on this rotation.) I literally tear up every time I find the fetal heartbeat or we tell parents the sex of the baby. It’s a problem. So thankful for little Luke!

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