So there I was...

So there I was…

You know those small moments- the kind that if you would have blinked you may have missed them- but they leave a huge impact on your lives- sometimes changing your life forever?  Some are good, some are sad- all are important.  I learned a new term recently- precipitous labor=- labor that lasts less than 3 hours from start of contractions to delivery only 2% percent of women have one I read.

 By 8 o clock the children were in bed sleeping and by 9pm Mark and I were relaxing in front of some TV show eating popcorn- I was licking the salt and butter off the bag and had to put it down for a few slightly uncomfortable contractions.  Nothing out of the ordinary.  I had been having Braxton Hicks contractions for weeks if not months.  At 10 o'clock I began to notice that the pressure was considerably lower and as I watched the clock- regular and getting closer :05, :10, :14- I went to brush my teeth, get dressed and go to the bathroom.  Mark came in to check on me- I knew by then that this was it- he gave me a blessing- I collapsed to the floor- my bags were already packed and in the car so we headed in that direction stopping only to pick up my shoes, purse, and the camera.  If there was any break in contractions I could not tell.  My moaning and groaning remained muffled until I was out the door- I did not want to wake the kids, but once outside I let loose- I'm sure if you could have heard me you would have known just how I was feeling.

I am still trying to hurry Mark up- forget about taking out the other car seats- forget about getting your mom- our neighbor- to watch the kids- WE NEED TO LEAVE NOW!  I am kneeling backwards on the passenger seat of our 2000 Kia Optima- light fabric interior- I cannot sit down.  I cannot do much of anything.  He starts the car. Mark seemed to me the perfect picture of calm and control- support and quick obedience.  He would tell a different story about his feelings at this point.  Get over here Mark- something's happening- I'm wet- he's coming- take off my pants- what is happening- of course with a few AHHHs!  From this point on I don't remember thinking about anything but somehow driven by auto pilot or instinct I found myself laying naked from the waist down, head on the emergency brake, legs sticking out the passenger door.  Phone records show that it was 10:52- Mark called his parents- her water broke- do you want us to come over? YES.  In 2 minutes Mark yells- Mom, hurry! and for a second or maybe two I was quite embarrassed as my in-laws rushed across the driveway- but I got over it.  Grandma controlled my breathing- we've got to get her inside, we'll wait for the next break- there is no break I tell her blankets and towels were retrieved.  911 is called.  There is an ambulance at 41 and American- very close for living out in the country.  What you’re your cross streets?, don't let her close her legs and try to keep the baby in, don't let her sit on the toilet, prop her head up… The operator does not realize we are past that point until- there's the head! He is put on speaker phone and the most helpful advice was- get ready to catch the baby, don't let him fall, he will be very slippery.  Both Daddy and Grandma put their hands out as Baby is shot out.  Really just two quick pains or pushes- one for the head and immediately one for the rest of him.  He is put up on my tummy- is he breathing? the operator continues to ask-I can't hear him- no- I push him toward my doctors- help him- is he breathing? no- I felt like it was a long time before the treatment he was receiving produced a little cough and then a small yelp.  11:03 the Ambulance arrives and an angel armed with a clamp named Jill appears and has Daddy cut the cord with a scalpel.  I notice Grandpa for the first time through the front windshield smiling- Nathan is returned to me and I no longer feel any pain.  I laugh and cry at the same time- I hold perfection in my arms.

Nathan Joseph Freeman "baby Nate" born at 11pm at home Feb. 6 2012, 8 pounds 11 ounces, 20 1/2 inches long.  Fuzzy light brown hair- no one bothered to count fingers and toes yet.

As they help me unto the gurney I notice the few blood spots in the car and apologize- With only the dome light of the car I notice the puddle on the concrete of my carport- did I do that? everyone laughs- I guess it is  too late to get my epidural- Why do I feel like joking with everyone and why am I so excited to be riding in an ambulance for the first time?

11:45 we are at the hospital and another angel nurse John- our favorite nurse from Cami's traumatic birth nearly four years ago- stays with us all night.  Of course the rapid and explosive birth has torn me up and getting numb for the stitches was my least favorite part.  I shake uncontrollably and Nate is bathed and warmed up.  California is a warm place, but it is still cold at night in February.