The Family Hall Way: Who needs a hospital?

OK, so I think I'll post the story of Felix's birth now, for anyone who might be interested. If you don't like birth stories or get squeamish at the thought of umbilical cords, you might want to skip this post. Otherwise, read on!!

Well, it all started 9 months ago... jk, I'll start 2 days before his birth. Tuesday, December 19 (which happens to be Mallory's birthday!), I took the Greyhound up to Provo one last time to finish up my last 5 client therapy hours (of 500). I had the same driver going up and coming back the next day, and he was a funny guy. I usually sat in or near the front seat (just so I could run off the bus fast if anyone creeps me out too much), but this time my seat choice kept me from getting much reading done in my "Husband Coached Childbirth" book (all about natural childbirth) because he just kept talking and talking. Everything that happened reminded him of a joke or a story, and after listening to him for a while I wasn't sure where one stopped and other started, cause he kept fading in and out of reality. Then he realized I was pregnant, and got super nervous that he was going to have to deliver the baby, which he supposedly had experience with. So he had some stories about that, but I don't think they were true.

Anyhow, I got into St. George at around 2:30 on Wed, but Brian was working alone and couldn't come pick me up until later that afternoon when one of his employees got in. So did I wait patiently? Yeah, right! It was only a mile and a half to Brian's work, uphill, so I figured I'd just walk as far as I felt comfortable and then stop. I was carrying quite a few bags of books, clothes, baby gifts, and stuff from my other life in Provo (oh yeah, and a baby and his luggage too), but I kept telling myself to go one block further, and pretty soon I was there. Looking back, I'm not too sure this didn't contribute to my early labor! But hey, it all worked out.

So all is well until I wake up the next morning (Dec 21st) at 7ish, and I think, hey these aren't Braxton-Hicks contractions... When I notify Brian he leaps out of bed, but I tell him not to worry, we still probably have a week or so. (See, I had a week's worth of work to do, so of course the baby will be polite and wait until I clear the shelves at Walmart, cook 60 meals ahead, wash every baby item I own three more times, and most importantly take three days to carefully and methodically pack my hospital bag.)

So we went about our usual business that day, except that during the afternoon I'm breathing through contractions while leaning over my shopping cart at Walmart. No big deal, he's still at least a couple of days off, right? So I stop at Brian's work on the way home to help with end-of-the-year inventory. Every once in a while I have to lie down on the floor and use some silly image of a beach to get through a contraction, since they're getting longer and closer together (abt. a min long, and 10 min apart). In between I'm fine though, so we finish up our work, close up shop and head home for the one BYU football game Brian will get to watch that year: the Bowl Game!

Then in between laundry, putting away groceries and Walmart goodies, some awesome plays by the Cougs, and a phone call from Brian's dad, we also breath and *relax* (HA) through some seriously intense contractions. They're coming one on top of eachother. Our birthing class is at 8:00, and at about 7:45 we call to let them know that we're thinking about going to the hospital. ("Oh, don't go too soon--it's the worst when you get sent home. Or if they keep you, they'll hook you up to a bunch of junk").

So all of a sudden I think that I've peed my pants REALLY bad somehow, but nope, we're in countdown mode!! Ahhh! So I run to the car with a bath towel, and as Brian's throwing everything under the sun into the diaper bag, I'm in the car thinking, OHMYGOODNESSI'M PUSHING!!! So Brian comes out and then runs back in and gets the baby seat, and then as we back out, I tell Brian that I'm pushing.

"Well, uh, stop pushing!! We're in the CAR!"

"I CAN'T!!! I HAVE TO!!"

"Well, don't push hard!!"

So after a 5 min drive we zoom into DRMC and run (well, I waddle and moan) inside. It's 8:00

Bri: "Can I get a wheelchair for my wife? She's in labor!"

Guy (who I'm pretty sure has been fired by now, thank you very much): [looks at me] "Oh, Labor and Delivery is just down the hall."

(Me:[DEATH STARE])

So when the nurses see me, I'm wheelchaired up immediately, and then pushed into the closest room. I'm hop up on the bed and I'm in delivery position (and attire--well minus the hospital robe and ID) in no time. Some Dr. guy runs in and listens to Brian shouting out our labor preferences (which are now becoming laughably obsolete: no drugs, no IV, no episiotomy, no continuous fetal monitoring, bla bla bla) and birth preferences (wait to cut cord, hold off on the baby bath, tell us what you're doing before you do it, etc), and tells me to stop pushing so hard (yeah, I wish I'd listened to him...) and Felix is born at 8:19!!!