Nathan Warren Bailey born September 21, 2012

It has taken me five weeks to get Nathan's birth story down. The story starts even earlier than his birthday. In fact all of September seemed to be dedicated to laboring. Somehow it ended up being the fastest month of my entire life even though every day crept by oh so slowly.

On Wednesday, September 5th I had an appointment where they measured me dilated to a 3 and 80% effaced. This was further along than I'd ever been naturally with my first two, so I was thinking this baby was coming soon. That Saturday night (the 8th), I was doing housework when I suddenly felt very wet. Considering this is precisely what happened ten hours before I delivered Micah, I figured this was it and we headed to the hospital. They determined after running some tests and having me pace the floor for an hour that my water hadn't broken after all. So, they sent me home. That night I had moderate contractions for about two hours and then they stopped. In the meantime my back killed, and I was extremely uncomfortable walking around and even standing.

Monday, the 10th, around lunch time I started gushing blood. I have never been so scared in my entire life--hysterical is probably a more appropriate word. I called Allan's cell four times and he wasn't picking up (turns out he was trying to wrap things up with a client who was not so keen on the wrapping up part), so then I called my friend Megan to see if she could take Micah. She came over immediately and insisted that it was better for her to drive me to the hospital (25 minutes away) and for Allan to meet us there. By then the bleeding had turned to just spotting, I could finally feel the baby move, and I calmed down. Once at the hospital my doctor saw me right away and said that the baby was okay, the placenta was okay, and I needed to stay off of my feet as much as possible until this baby arrived.

So, for the next extremely frustrating ten days I was on bed rest (I totally cheated near the end), and I'm convinced it slowed things down. I had contractions every single night, about 5-8 minutes apart, for anywhere from 1-6 hours. They weren't painful, but definitely uncomfortable, and psychologically maddening. I felt like the girl who cried wolf about twelve times.

Thursday, the 20th, the contractions started again 10-12 minutes apart. I couldn't sleep because they started getting painful. I was so dead set against being sent home again, and didn't believe this was true labor until the next morning at 6am they were consistently 5 minutes apart and I kept telling Allan to be quiet! Because I was extremely concerned about not putting other people out, I wanted to hold out on dropping the kids by their respective caretakers until 7:15 am.

By the time we arrived at the hospital at 8am they were three minutes apart, I was dilated to a seven, and officially admitted. Three more hours of epidural-less labor (it really was not that bad, only the last hour was loudly-moaning-painful; this was my first labor without pitocin, so it honestly felt like a breeze) and then my water broke. I had one really hard contraction, the nurse left the room, and then during the next contraction I felt something very strange. I quickly realized it was the head, and Allan calmly called for the nurse (I wasn't so calm). Four of them came flying in ordering me to pant through it to try and keep him in there because there wasn't even a doctor on the floor. The contraction ended and in what I can only imagine looked like a scene from E.R., they put me in place got everything ready (kept shouting for a doctor!), and the next contraction he literally slid out. I did not push a bit. It was the strangest sensation I've ever had in my life.

I am dilated to 9 centimeters in the picture. Am I embarrassed by how I look? No way! I'm in labor without an epidural. What do you expect me to look like?

The on call doctor came in about thirty seconds later, apologizing profusely, and he took care of me. I bled a lot. Because of the ease of his entry I was thinking that he must be a teeny little thing, and then they plopped him on the scale and he was 8#13oz.

I felt very strange for the hour right after his birth. I was so tired, and had a hard time feeling present. As I watched Allan and the nurses huddle over them, even as I nursed, I felt like the only thing in the world I wanted at that point was a month-long nap. Then when they helped me into the wheelchair to send me to recovery, they put him in my arms again. I started bawling. Happiness.

That hour was the only sad moment I've had since his birth (unless you count the 5am meltdowns when I realize I have two other boys to take care of on three hours of sleep--but that's nothing a prayer and a forty-five minute nap won't take care of). Once again I'm amazed at how love expands. It really is infinite and eternal. Heavenly Father gives us glimpses into the joy to come if we endure to the end.

3 hours old.

Big brother once again.

Micah really didn't know what to think. I think he's finally figured out that I'm not just babysitting someone else's kid (though he still calls him Ethan instead of Nathan).

I love this picture.

 It took us exactly twenty-three hours of serious deliberation to name him. Between contractions right before the baby made his entrance, Allan suggested Warren as the middle name, after my amazing grandfather. Upon that suggestion, I got chills up and down my body and burst into tears. It was perfect, and I knew it was right. Nathan was later declared his first name--it's a name that appears frequently in both of our family histories, and my mom's favorite grandfather was Nathaniel. So Nathan Warren Bailey he is.

Two days old. After posting this picture,I had a friend accuse me of birthing an 8-week old. This next one proves he was indeed two days old. Check out the crossed eyes. So fun:

We love him. He is a blessing. His name means "He has given." Those four barren years between Jack and Micah have taught me that Heavenly Father truly gives us our children. I am still amazed I have a third son. And honored.