Happy Birthday Hannah!!

 Hannah turned 2 last Thursday. Yes, I know I am late in mentioning it, but there was “Things I Love Thursday”, then “Frugal Fridays” and some serious gastro-intestinal issues on Saturday (I will spare you the details) so I am just now getting around to blogging about it.

I am not sure if I have mentioned it before, but every year on my birthday, my mom calls at a ridiculous hour in the morning and proceeds to start the conversation with (fill in the blank wiht the appropriate year) “Whatever years ago today, I didn’t even know that you would be coming…” and then proceeds to tell me some version of my birth story. I think it is only appropriate that I torture you all in the same fashion.

I began having Braxton Hicks contractions with Hannah at about 21 weeks. They held on nice and steady throughout my pregnancy at times getting rather intense. Typically some water and a good rest on my side took care of them. Plus it gave me an excuse to lay down for long periods of time. So this particular Sunday night I was out at a bar with a bunch of couples celebrating a friend’s 30th birthday party. The contractions were particularly bad and we were all joking about it since it was 3 weeks early.

I left the party early and slept as well as any 8 month pregnant woman can sleep (ie. awful) and woke when I woke up the next morning the contractions seemed a bit different. Like more often, and more intense. I told the hubby I was pretty sure these were the real deal and sent him to Meijer to get some things for the hospital. I can’t for the life of me remember what those things could have possibly been that were that important, but at them time it seemed as though the future of the free world depended on him getting those items.

While he was gone the contractions started coming closer together and I began panicking that we had not gotten to the hospital yet. Finally he arrived and we took off. On the way there, I called 2 of my friends who were also pregnant and due before me to say, “Na na na na na, I am having my baby before you.” Then I called and woke up my friend who had celebrated her birthday a bit too hard the night before and told her I was having a baby.

We got to the hospital and told them I was having a baby. They put me in a triage room with an imcompetent nurse. My labor is progressing quite rapidly and she keeps disappearing. I have asked for the drugs (I really was going to try and go natural, but then I remembered how painful labor is) and she is trying to put and IV in and can’t find a vein. She is poking me repeatedly with a needle and getting quite frustrated and at one point says, “Jill, your killin’ me here, I can’t find a vein.” It is possible some profanity was used. And not by the nurse. I should remind you that you should never judge a woman who is in labor.

Finally a competent person arrives to take me up to a birthing room. In the elevator on the way up, I kindly turn to that woman and ask her where my drugs are.  She smiles at me and says, “I’m sorry sweetie, you went to quickly, there isn’t time for drugs.” As my head begins to spin around in true exorcist fashion, my dear, dear hubby leans over and says, “That’s OK sweetie, you wanted to do it naturally.” He is frankly lucky he is still able to reproduce.

As they are wheeling me into the birthing room, I began to politely tell the nurse that I thought I might need to push (that may or may not be accurate) and she tells me to hold on cause the doctor isn’t quite here. ARE YOU KIDDING ME???!!!! He is coming, but my labor has gone so fast that he wasn’t quite ready for me. By fast I mean 5-10 centimeters in 19 minutes. Happy times!! The doctor comes in, proceeds to try and introduce himself to the hubby and I, assesses the situation and decides to forgo introductions and just catch the baby that is shooting out of me. 1 1/2 pushes later and Hannah has arrived.

No offense to Lily, but she was upside down and I had to push for 3 hours so when she came out she had a massive conehead. And giant red indentations from the forceps. And since she was a forcep delivery they immediately took her to the little isolate on the side to check her out. Hannah came out perfect. They laid her on my chest, the hubby cut the cord…the whole nine yards. And 30 minutes after I had her, I felt awesome. I had tons of energy, I could walk around, it was awesome. And I have already mostly forgotten how awful the pain was. Not really, who could forget that?

So Hannah, thanks for coming into our lives. Your smile and giggles are infectious. I love that you already have a sense of humor and love to make people laugh. I love how your face lights up when your sister comes down the stairs in the morning. I love how you remind us to pray at every meal by folding your little hands, and then how you eat the whole time we are praying. I love how you prefer certain pacifiers and reject others for no obvious reason. I love how you “mother” all your dolls and stuffed animals. I love you for a million reasons and have loved (most) every minute of these past 2 years!