Slight change of plans

My goal had been 11/11/11. A birth date easy enough for Steve to remember.

I had made the attempt before and failed...Adam was born on 08/06/08 instead of my intended 08/08/08. But a friend had kicked the challenge up a notch to 11/11/11 at 11:11 and despite the fact that it was 2 weeks earlier than my due date of 11/25, I felt it was attainable.

I went to my 36 week check up this Friday. Exam revealed...dilated to almost a 2 and "thinning." I don't think he was talking about my belly, as it seemed to distend two feet from my body in the form of a triangle. Either way I was grateful to know I was progressing and my induction date of the 22nd would get me and baby Hodgen home for thanksgiving dinner, thus proving all my friends wrong who said their 3rd babies were a week overdue inspight of the fact that the previous kiddos had come early.

My history was just that.

Shannon: two weeks early. Adam: one week.

I felt well balanced with one girl and one boy...skipping on finding out the gender during the ultrasound was well within reason.

And I wanted a surprise.

A good surprise.

Not the kind of surprise when you get rear ended (like I was 2 weeks ago) or your child takes it upon themselves to cut their hair. But a good, old fashion, shock you to to tears surprise. Not finding out the baby's gender would satisfy such an urge.

Although it should be noted that Steve was never 100% on board with this idea. More like 12.2%.

The ultrasound took forever. The tech spent a fair amount of time searching for the umbilical chord insertion site (between the legs) and let me tell you...there was nothing there. NOTHING between those legs. I was 99% it was a girl and the look on Steve's face told me he knew it was as well. If he could have willed a tiny peepee to appear, he would have, but we both knew...it was a girl. I accepted it. Embraced it.

Saturday was to be a full day. Run errands, possibly fulfill my desire to chop off my hair, clean chapel, trunk or treat. Stuff like that. Nothing too crazy.

I woke up around 5am for a routine trip to the restroom. Couldn't fall back asleep though. Again, not uncommon for me at this stage in the pregnancy. But around 5:30 I felt some...oozing, shall we say. Never had that happen before, but my friend had lost her mucus plug early on in her pregnancy without any complications, so I figured that's what it must be.

Back to the bathroom for some investigation.

Hmm, suspicious.

Put on a pad just in case and took the computer downstairs where I planned to take a bolus of fluids (cause that's the first thing the docs tell you to do if you feel contractions) and watch Netflix while resting on my left side.

Some time passed with nothing. Whew. I'm a drama queen.

Then...gush.

Oh snap, a gush.

No, no, no...a gush.

This can't be good.

Up to the shower. If this is what I think it is, I'm going to have freshly washed and blown dry hair. Make up. The works.

I would have to let go of the sparkly silver nail polish I had intended on applying after Halloween and settle for my pumpkin orange, slightly chipped, toenails. Not ideal.

My matching silver flip flops hadn't arrived in the mail yet either. Oh well, they would be nothing without the silver polish anyways.

Steve knew something was going down and I fessed up.

I would call the doc AFTER I ate a protein packed breakfast and started running my errands. New glasses needed to be picked up. Halloween candy purchased with the latest and greatest coupons. Important stuff.

The doc's call killed any hope I had of getting a hair cut.

Right to the hospital. Now.

I went by myself, still slightly... OK, mostly...in denial that I could be having a baby at 36 weeks. No sense in worrying the kids if it was nothing. Unfortunately, it wasn't "nothing" and the kids were whisked away by my saint of a visiting teacher/friend/the lady in charge of trunk or treat for a fun filled day of candy, costumes and friends.

I, on the other hand, was in for 12 hours of labor that didn't progress quite as I had planned. The gravity of having a baby too early overshadowed the excitement I had anticipated I would feel by not knowing what we were having.

I wanted a healthy baby. Simple as that.

Watching Netflix was a great way to take our minds off of the hustle and bustle around us. Although knowing we were on the clock based on the time my water had broken was in the back of our minds.

As always, the epidural was a beautiful thing and my constant companion. Luv u Doc Maxwell! Dad, your job is heroic.

Around 7 pm, the epidural wasn't feeling as kind as it had been and I started pushing the redose button, frequently. I could feel the baby dropping with every contraction.

Internal exam conclusion...DON'T PUSH!

We waited about 25 minutes for the doctor. 3 pushes and 8 minutes later...

I saw a peepee.

Huh?

What?!?!?!

Come again?

A boy?!?!?!

The word SHOCKED does not adequately describe what I was experiencing.

After those 10 seconds, my mind cleared and I realized we had no crying. But, everything feels like an eternity when you are in that situation and shortly thereafter, we got our whimpers.

We are still dealing with issues of an early birth but for the most part everyone is healthy and happy.

Well, except for Shannon.

Her reaction...Uhhh! As in, "How you could do this to me! Now I'm out numbered. Now 2 boys will be chasing me with a sand shovel and ripping apart my Barbie doll house."

It's ok Shannon. The boys will go fishing and you and I can get pedicures.

No name yet. Weren't really expecting a boy. Weren't really expecting him this early.

Open to suggestions although I'm pretty sure the hospital staff is going to hate us when we are discharged without signing the social security papers.