From the Archives
After our last birth which ended in a week-long NICU stay, we were nervous about the birth of baby number three. After having a boy and a girl, we finally decided to find out before-hand if we were having a boy or a girl, so I could have baby clothes ready. She was due in the beginning of January. Since our first was born on his due date and the second two weeks early, we had plans for the grandparents helping to come the week of the due date, and we would just muddle though if she came early.
Well, due date came and went with the in-laws in our apartment. My mom and dad were due to arrive one week after the due date, and that day I started having regular contractions. My husband and I checked with the doctor and she said I was at 4cm and having contractions regular enough to go ahead to the hospital and the doctor on-call could break my water. Since it worked well last time, we went ahead. First we went to Jimmy John’s for one last meal before they put me off food till baby came.
We met the doctor, he said he had another mom in labor down the hall and didn’t want to break my water and then miss our birth while helping the other mom. So we waited 4 hours for him to come back. We played games, checked internet time-wasters, watched stupid TV, all while breathing through contractions. Seriously, my husband is the best labor coach! My parents arrived and hung out in the room as we waited.
Doc came back, my dad took his book to the waiting room, and doc broke my water. After he left, the contractions started hurting more. No more distractions, just me staring the clock down, listening to my husband’s directions for breathing, and mom wiping my brow with a cool cloth. I was done! We called the nurse; she said I was at 8cm. I had another contraction and said I am done; get the nurse back in here to check. She checked, I was at 10cm! She used the phone in the room to call for the baby nurse and doctor. Now I was blowing the contractions away because I wanted to push, but no one was ready, the doctor came in, and as he was getting the gown and gloves on, baby girl, Talitha, popped out, while I was trying not to push! He barely caught her!
They cleaned her up, lowered the foot of the bed and finished up with me. Then they let me hold her, and Mom went to get Dad. It was neat to have them both there right after. We sent Mom and Dad to our house to have dinner with their other grandkids, and to put them to bed so the other grandparents could come up and meet Talitha. It was the only time both sets of parents got to meet a newborn grandbaby the same weekend. It was also only the second time they had all been together, the first time being our wedding!
Fun thing about her, her name is Talitha which means “little girl.” She was my smallest baby, seven pounds, two ounces. And she is still petite. She weighs less than her younger brother, though she is a head taller.
~Shared by Laura A.