Room #17: where it all went down.
On the 17th of November, 2012.
But let's back up for a second first.
If you've been following along here, you know I had a false labor episode two weeks prior to this day. (I spent the day in the hospital, having contractions every 2 minutes -- before being sent home because I hadn't dilated more than a couple of centimeters all day.)
I left the hospital that day with the nurses suggesting that perhaps I should stay with relatives in town - or asking if we had an RV so that I could stay in the hospital parking lot!
And backing up even further ... you might want to read Lucy's Birth Story {HERE} first.
It'll give you a better idea of why I (and the nurses) were so concerned with being near the hospital!
(The short version is that I delivered Lucy exactly 20 minutes after arriving at the hospital.)
I was bound and determined to be at the hospital for HOURS before giving birth this time.
Mostly because I wanted drugs.
Lots of drugs.
An epidural, especially.
I had been dreaming about one of those since I was pregnant with Lucy.
It was my plan to walk into the hospital with a sign around my neck saying "I'd like an epidural NOW, please."
(And clearly, with the delivery happening 20 minutes after arrival, there was no time for THAT.)
Hmmph.
So ... getting back to Max's grand entry.
After the false labor episode, I continued having contractions sporadically for two weeks. They were never very strong. And seldom consistent.
I also had every pre-labor sign and symptom possible.
Mostly things involving the bathroom ... and frequent trips there, ETC.
(I'll leave the "ETC" up to your own imagination.)
But I'll tell you none of it was pretty.
On Saturday, November 17th, I woke up at 3:00 a.m. .... as I had pretty much every morning at 3:00 a.m. throughout my pregnancy - to use the bathroom.
At 4:00 a.m. - I was back in the bathroom.
Again, it was not pretty.
And again, I'll just leave it at that.
But let's just say ... I was pretty much POSITIVE Max would be on his way SOON.
I took a shower and tried to be patient.
I re-packed and loaded up the car.
By 9:00ish, I started having small contractions again. Not strong ones. And again - not very consistent.
But they were enough to keep me hopeful that Max would be arriving that day.
I went to my mom's house to pass the time (because Scott was at his brother's - nearby - making elk sausage from their recent hunting expedition ... and because my mom lives about four minutes from the hospital).
At about 4:00 p.m., I had a STRONG contraction.
And not just strong, but about three minutes long, too.
I decided if I had another contraction like that, we'd probably better go to the hospital.
I called Scott and told him to come get me.
About ten minutes later ... BAM. There was another one.
Scott arrived, and we headed to the hospital.
In the four minutes from my mom's house to the hospital, I had two more contractions.
Bad ones.
We arrived at the hospital around 4:45 p.m.
Thankfully, upon check-in, the nurses acted quickly (thanks to notes from my doctor about my extremely fast delivery last time), and within a few minutes I was in my hospital gown, discovering that I was already 7 cm dilated.
Dang.
Scott frantically started asking if I could get an epidural.
(While I sat there, shaking my head with the unfortunate realization that this wouldn't be possible. Again.)
Grrrrrr!
Why do I have to do this AGAIN!?!?!
That is what I kept asking.
As much as I desperately wanted another child ... doing so in the same fashion as the last time was NOT on my wish list.
In fact, it was more like on my top 3 list of things NEVER to do again.
They couldn't reach my doctor. (And even if they had, he wouldn't have been there in time.)
The on-call doctor they did get was WONDERFUL though, so that worked out.
She arrived about five minutes before I started pushing.
(Which also means she arrived about six minutes before Max was born. Maybe seven.)
Unlike Lucy, who came out with one (involuntary) push ... Max took about 2 1/2 pushes.
And boy did his two-inches-bigger-than-his-sister's-head HURT. Wow.
Kind of like the stitches that followed.
Max was born at 5:28 p.m., about 45 minutes after arriving at the hospital.
It was a cryfest from that moment. I was bawling. Scott was bawling.
I was thanking God over and over through my sobs.
Every detail of the last 3+ years of infertility struggles, early-pregnancy complications ... and all of the emotions associated with all of it just overwhelmed me ... and poured out of me.
Tears of pain.
Tears of relief.
Tears of indescribable, overflowing JOY.
And pretty much .... they haven't stopped since.
I could stare at this little guy (who is currently snuggled up on my chest) all day long.
Well, okay ... I kind of DO stare at him all day long. :-)
It is completely and utterly overwhelming to be holding this true miracle in my arms.
God is so good.
And gratefulness doesn't begin to describe what is in my heart.
And here are a few pictures.
I (obviously) was a little preoccupied, so I didn't take many pictures myself -- I think my sister took most of these!
Max Tucker
11/17/12, 5:28 p.m.
7 pounds, 7 ounces
20 inches long
14 inch head
Lucy, meeting her baby brother for the first time!
(Yes, she's wearing Hello Kitty on her head, courtesy of Aunt Steph.)
Daddy and Max!
Nana surprised Lucy with these twin baby dolls she had been begging for ... she named them "Lucy and Max". :-)
Nana and Max!
Lucy holding Max for the first time...
Meeting Aunt Steph ...
Family of four!
Nana, Lucy, Me, Max, and Aunt Steph
The next morning ....
All dressed and ready to go home!
It is so special to know that there are so many of you who have been praying for this baby right along with us, from the very beginning!
We appreciate this more than you can imagine!






















