“This is the story of my middle child, Wyatt’s birth, as told via email September 2010. A treasured memory I will relive in my heart many times over. Many thanks for all you support & inspire!” -Kristin
So, any of you that know me at all, know that the fact that i’m emailing you at 5:30 am could only mean one thing- BABY WYATT IS HERE!!!! He was a bit late, but it would seem he was waiting to make a bit of an entrance. I will give you the short version because, well, that’s the only version there is!
We were set to go in 7:30 Thursday night to be induced, so I was spending the day fussing about, cleaning, etc. I was having the same Braxton Hicks contractions I’d been having for months, so nothing out of the ordinary. At 3pm I get Stephie off the bus, at 3:30, I start getting sharp pain with my contractions, but it only lasted 15 seconds. I call my doctor, and we conclude it’s gas, since a normal, productive contraction lasts 60 seconds or longer. At 3:45 the ‘gas’ pains are unbearable. I call my doctor, and she tells me to call Tom, and get to the hospital ASAP (We live one hour away from the hospital). My amazing neighbor comes to sit with me, get Steph together, help me into the car, and several verses of “Where is he?” later, Tom flies in the driveway. It is now 4:15. I now have to breath , and make other un-godly noises, to get through the contractions, still only 15 seconds long, 2 minutes apart.
It’s pouring, school traffic is backed up, my husband is driving 70 mph, running red lights, my daughter is unsure whether to be happy or terrified, and while we are on the highway my water breaks. We call 911, they tell us to pull over. Tom “politely” informs them that he is NOT delivering a baby in our minivan, and we decide to drive towards the ambulance. I am now having the urge to push. We meet the ambulance where there is a head-on collision up ahead, and there are paramedics scattered about, looking a bit flustered. They ask me to get out of the van (such comedians!). Tom hoists me out, they get me on the gurney, push me down the rumble strip, and TRY to get me in the ambulance. Two bangs and Tom shoving a paramedic out of the way later, Tom had me all loaded in. I scream “I love you!” to Tom & Steph and then scream “I’M PUSHINNNNNNGGGGG!” to the paramedics, and off we go!
After being told NOT to push for the whole ambulance ride (again, so funny, right?) we arrive at the hospital. Doors open, screaming woman on the gurney, into the elevator. Elevator goes up- oops, wrong floor! FINALLY make it to maternity. Transfer beds as our doc runs in- “PUSH! PUSH! We have his head!” (No, I do not want to see it! Get it out!) “PUSH! PUSSSSHHHHH!” At 5:29 pm Wyatt Henry arrived at 7 lbs 13 ounces, 20 inches long.
Tom arrived at 4:15 in Montague, and Wyatt arrived at 5:29! True story! He was the 1,000th baby to be delivered by our doctor. I got my three wishes: The “Honey, it’s time!” phone call, my water breaking naturally (could have done with that happening outside my car) and no drugs (not that there was time to have them!).
And most importantly, I got something that was far more than I could have ever wished for: a beautiful, healthy baby boy. He happens to be quite the snuggler.