I’ve never thought of myself as dramatic (I can actually hear Marcus roll his eyes right now), but we had the craziest, dramatic day following MJ’s birth.

After the excitement of oh…giving birth, the three of us laid down in our respective beds and passed out around 3:30 a.m. Just 45 minutes later, MJ woke us me up, and Marcus got up to give him to me to feed him. After MJ ate, I put him back in his bassinet and got back in bed. Just as I got settled in, the nurse came in to check on me. Right as she pulled the covers back, I felt a gush of blood come out.

Oh my gosh, enough with gushing of bodily fluids already!

When I told the nurse what I felt, she reassured me that it was normal. HOWEVER, when she actually saw how much blood I lost, she got worried. She called someone to come help her, who ended up being the charge nurse. As they both worked to stop the hemorrhaging, I heard the charge nurse say that they needed to call down to labor and delivery. She also told the other nurse to set up the machine to take my blood pressure every five minutes.

I started feeling worse and worse, and I was trying to tell the nurses that I was still bleeding, which, now that I think about it, they could obviously tell. When my labor and delivery nurse got to the room (and yes, I think of her as mine now), she immediately began helping the other nurses too. She told me later that when she walked in, I was as white as the pillowcase.

I kept my eyes closed because I started feeling sick to my stomach, which I managed to tell them in case I was sick all over them. At one point, I opened my eyes to see at least four people around my bed. I heard someone call my doctor, and I heard the words “She’s hemorrhaging and we can’t stop it.” The words balloon and shot were mentioned, and as far as I can tell, they were going to put a balloon in my uterus to see if I had any more clots. I did get a shot in my leg, but I still don’t know exactly what it was (maybe one of my nurse friends can tell me?). I heard the nurses make plans to send me back to labor and delivery, but not before I heard one nurse say “I can’t even get a reading on her blood pressure.”

I’m glad I wasn’t fully aware at the moment of how serious this all was.

Not so surprisingly, Marcus and MJ slept through everything. They woke Marcus up to tell him they were taking me back down to labor and delivery, so he had them send MJ to the nursery so he could stay with me.

By the time we got downstairs (around 5:30 a.m. at this point) and they hooked me up to the monitors and put another IV in, I had stabilized. The doctor came in to check on me (poor guy – he came to the hospital twice in the span of five hours just for me). After he examined me, he looked at my L&D nurse and said, “Well, you did everything right. We’ll continue to monitor her and leave the IV in, but good job, Chris!” Then he turned to me and explained that I had lost so much blood that they had requested two units of blood to give me. As my L&D nurse’s shift came to an end, she came in my room to say goodbye. She said “I was hoping to see you before I left, but not like this!” What can I say? I like to make an impression.

I stabilized quicker than they thought, so Dr. O said they would keep the units on standby but let me see if I continued to improve. I spent the rest of the night in that room, and by mid-morning, I was back in my regular room.

It wasn’t until the day unfolded that I realized just how scary things had turned. As nurses came in the room to check on me throughout the day, they all commented, “You look so much better!” I had one nurse who hadn’t been there when all this happened, but apparently she heard about it. When she came in the room, she exclaimed, “So you’re the one who scared the crap out of everyone!”

I wasn’t real sure how to answer that. “Yes, that’s me!” Uh….not so much.

Friday was filled with naps and visitors, all of my favorite things! I napped off and on all day, and by Friday night, I started feeling a little more like myself. I had some good friends come visit (and bring me food!), and lo and behold, we were in for another adventure. As we were all visiting, and I was stuffing my face, we noticed the weather getting worse and worse. Suddenly it started storming and the electricity went out. The winds were so high and strong that the sirens began wailing. The hospital called a code gray, which meant we all had to move into the hallway.

What.a.night.

After about 15 minutes hanging in the hallway, we finally got to move back into our room. Our friends said goodbye, and it was back to being the three of us. I looked at the clock, looked at Marcus, and came to the realization that MJ wasn’t even 24 hours old yet. I had had enough adventure to last me for quite a while.

Fortunately for us, things calmed down for the rest of our hospital stay (which was extended to Sunday thanks to my early morning adventure). I was sent home with a plethora of medicine, but I was still home. Hallelujah!

Here’s the funny thing: although I had a relatively healthy pregnancy, I worried every day that something would go wrong. I looked forward to my due date because I couldn’t wait to meet MJ, of course, but also because I thought it would be the end of my worrying. Why in the world did I think I would be less worried once MJ got here? It didn’t take me long to get overwhelmed with everything once we were home. Not only was I tasked with keeping a little baby alive, but my mood plummeted every single day once the sun went down. I constantly worried about MJ. I stressed over getting his clothes and items in order. I lamented the fact that he wouldn’t eat as much as I wanted to. When he cried because he was having trouble nursing, I cried too. I cried without knowing why I was crying. The only thing that brought me relief was reading my Bible. I found a devotional plan on YouVersion, and read it every night during nighttime feedings. I came across a verse that I’ve decided to pray over MJ. Although I picked out a verse when I first found out MJ was on his way, I realized that he could have more than one verse prayed over him.

I don’t pretend to know everything. I never have, so why start now? But I do feel a little more at peace. Our prayer as parents is that MJ would grow up to be someone who follows hard after God, who puts others first and recognizes their value, and who works hard at whatever opportunities he’s provided. We pray that he goes after his dreams, and that he makes dreams come true for others.

MJ, your mommy and daddy love you very much. You make us proud already, and we can’t wait to point you to the King. 

 

By now, most of you know that MJ surprised us with his early arrival. While he is by no means the earliest baby to ever be born, his arrival certainly caught us off guard. It’s taken me a while to find the time to write this, so let’s hope my brain remembers everything.

June 22, 2017 – 2:30 a.m.
36 weeks pregnant

Marcus had worked the 4 p.m.-1 a.m. shift at work that day, so he got home somewhere around 1:45 a.m. As is usually the case when he works that particular shift, I was sound asleep, having gone to bed a few minutes after midnight. I woke up at 2:30 because he had come in to kiss me goodnight.

“Want to sit with me in the living room while I eat?” Marcus asked me (if you know him at all, you know he is no slave to time when it comes to food).

“No babe, I’m going to stay in bed. I feel sick to my stomach for some reason,” I answered.

Not only was I feeling bad, but waking up had somehow triggered the heartburn that had been my nemesis for the better part of two months. To make me feel better, my sweet husband laid down in bed and talked to me until I fell asleep.

5:30 a.m.

I woke up with the overwhelming need to pee. Since this happened multiple times a night, I wasn’t surprised. I told Marcus, and he stretched out his arm (while still asleep, mind you), so that I could use it to hoist myself up. As soon as I got out of bed, I felt a gush of liquid come out. Since I’m not in the habit of peeing myself, I quickly realized that my water broke.

“Babe. Babe. MARCUS!”

“Hmmm?”

“Babe, my water just broke!”

Without opening his eyes, Marcus turned his head in my direction and asked:

“Are you sure you didn’t just pee yourself?”

*Insert ALL OF THE EYE ROLLS HERE*

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure I didn’t pee myself. My water broke.”

After a five minute argument of whether I had peed myself or not (I kid you not), Marcus called labor and delivery to see what our next step should be. (And if you’re wondering why Marcus called and I didn’t, it’s because I was mad at him for not believing that my water had broken.) The nurse explained to him that sometimes the baby will sit on the bladder, and that I could have indeed peed myself. RUDE! Anyway, she suggested that I take a shower. If I soaked through two pads within an hour, I was to call back.

As I got in the shower, I realized that we have nothing ready. Like nothing. No bag packed. No furniture put together. Shoot, no furniture even bought yet. We hadn’t rearranged our room to accommodate a newborn. And we just had our baby shower less than a week before. Because I was still in school, I hadn’t quite gotten around to unpacking the gifts and writing thank you notes (which, ironically, was on my to do list for that particular day). Our living room was filled with gift bags and diapers. With a small sense of panic, I asked Marcus to pack a hospital bag for us in case we had to head over there sooner rather than later.

As I got out of the shower, the first sound I heard was…Marcus snoring. Clearly he wasn’t worried. I walked into our room and saw the biggest suitcase we own (did he think we were going to be in the hospital for a month?). As I opened the suitcase to see what he packed, I counted only five items – three underwear and two pairs of socks.

*INSERT ALL THE EYE ROLLS AGAIN.*

I found a smaller bag and packed it. Then I went to the living room and started going through gift bags trying to find something to bring MJ home in. Clearly the outfit I had already bought was going to be too big. After I packed both our bags, I ate breakfast and then called my mom and sister to tell them that I was possibly in labor. My mom offered to come by the house to bring me something I needed, so after I got off the phone with her, I decided to finish getting dressed. As I walked out of the room to wait in the living room, it happened again.

WHOOOSH! There go more of my bodily fluids. I waddle over to the bed and try to wake up Marcus yet again.

“Babe. Babe. MARCUS!”

“Hmmm?”

“It happened again.”

“What happened again?”

“Oh my gosh. My water broke again!”

“Are you sure?”

Ok, I get the guy is tired…but COME ON, MAN!

I called labor and delivery back, and they told me that I needed to come in. I woke Marcus back up, told him we needed to get ready to go, and started getting myself dressed again. My mom comes by, gives me a kiss, tells me to keep her updated, and then we head to the hospital.

The whole way to the hospital, Marcus explained that this can’t possibly be labor because we weren’t ready for MJ yet.

Umm..ok.

9:00 a.m.

We checked into the hospital, and they sent me to an observation room. They did two tests to determine if my water had broken. The first one came back positive, and the second one came back negative. WWWWWHHHAAATTTT? The sweet nurse explained that since they didn’t have a conclusive answer, my doctor would have to come in and perform a third test – the tiebreaker. HOWEVER, he couldn’t just leave his patients, so he wouldn’t be by to see me until lunchtime. Marcus and I took advantage of the time and slept (guess who fell asleep first? after telling me that he hoped I wasn’t in labor because we weren’t ready?).

11:45 a.m.

My doctor, Dr. O., walked in with a confused look on his face.

“Hey Bethany! So what’s going on?”

“Well…I think my water broke.”

“That’s what it sounds like. I’m going to check you before I do the test.”

As I sat up in bed, it happened again. I mean, I didn’t even know that was possible. I had that much amniotic fluid??

Dr. O lifted up the sheets, took one look at me, and said “Yep, your water broke. You’re having a baby today!” And my sweet, supportive, smart husband looked at the doctor with crazy eyes and uttered that now infamous phrase he had been repeating all morning:

“BUT WE’RE NOT READY!”

As it turns out, babies don’t care if you’re ready or not.

All joking (and eye-rolling) aside, I was a little concerned about having him earlier than planned. Dr. O assured me that MJ would be “just perfect”, and off to the races we went. I moved to a different room, got settled in, and they started me on medicine to make my contractions (which I was already feeling) become more regular. At that point I remembered that I hadn’t even made the playlist I wanted for the birth, so there I was, feverishly picking the songs I wanted for the playlist.

Here’s where things get a little fuzzy. It took a little while for my contractions to become more regular, and until they did, I couldn’t get an epidural. I remember being in pain (oh my gosh, the pain), and the nurse giving me some pain medicine that knocked me out. I remember my family being there, and I remember at some point my sister coming in to check on me. Marcus hadn’t left my side this whole time, and was holding my hand through each contraction. Here’s something I do remember: at one point Kelli came in (I’m guessing after work) and got after Marcus for not “talking her through the contractions.” I was in too much pain to say anything, but if I could have, I would have laughed out loud at what happened next. When the next contraction hit, Marcus said,

“Uh…babe. You got this.”

All I could manage in reply was “Stop talking.”

“Ok.”

8:00 p.m.

Finally, finally, I was able to get an epidural. Bless the Lord, oh my soul! With worship music playing in the background, the nurse and Marcus held onto me while I received the epidural. The relief was almost immediate. After that, I felt like I could truly rest, and the nurses were so good to check on me and move me around while still letting me sleep. I remember family being there; I wanted SO badly to wake up and visit with them, but exhaustion had set in and I couldn’t keep my eyes open.

10:00 p.m.

The nurse came in to check on me, and told me that I was very close to being fully dilated. At this point, it was only Marcus, my parents, and Kelli in the room. We waited for a little bit, and then everyone decided they were hungry. Right when my dad left to get everyone a snack from Whataburger (except for me…waaaaah), the nurse did one final check and told me that I was ready to push. My sister and mom left the room, and it was only me, Marcus, and the nurse for a little bit.

11:30 p.m.

The nurse called the doctor to let him know I was ready. She then had me push for about 20 minutes. At one point, Marcus looked up at me and with a huge grin on his face said, “Babe! He has a ton of hair!” You can imagine my relief when he told me that – at least all that heartburn wasn’t for nothing. After 20 minutes, the nurse told me to stop to wait for the doctor. She said if I kept pushing, the baby would get here before Dr. O did. While we waited, she got everything ready for the doctor, and the nursery nurse came in and set up the machine where they would weigh and check MJ.

June 23, 2017
12:00 a.m.

The doctor arrived, got himself ready, and the room quickly filled. In addition to the doctor, nurse, and Marcus, the nursery nurse and nurse aide were also surrounding me. I wish, wish, WISH I had had a camera with me because what happened next was hilarious.

Dr. O had me push for four rounds of ten seconds each. Everyone counted out loud for me so that I could concentrate on pushing. The first round, I heard:

One…

Two…

Three..

Four…

Five…

Six…

Seven…

AND THEN EVERYONE STOPPED COUNTING AND THEIR EYES GOT REALLY, REALLY BIG. So naturally I stopped pushing, because what in the world was going on??? As soon as I stopped pushing, everyone said “No, no, keep pushing!”

Geez, talk about mixed signals.

I finished pushing, and then it was on to round 2.

One…

Two…

Three…

Four…

12:32 a.m.

And just like that, my baby was born. The cutest, wiggliest, most perfect, dark-haired baby boy was placed in my arms. At that point, everyone else in the room ceased to exist. I was finally holding God’s answer to my many, many prayers in my arms. Seeing and holding MJ literally took my breath away, and I fought to keep from crying so that my tears wouldn’t keep me from staring at him.

The nurses took MJ from me (rude!) so they could clean him up and weigh him. Although he was early, I was still shocked that he only weighed 5 lb. 8 oz. That was another answer to prayer. My doctor and I were concerned that he would get too big and that I would end up needing a C-section. I don’t know how fast he would have grown in the next three weeks, but as it was, MJ was perfect.

After he was clean, the nurse gave him back to me so that we could have skin to skin time. As soon as they put him in my arms, MJ quieted down while we snuggled and I told him how much Daddy and I loved him. Marcus held him for a little bit, and I can’t adequately express what it’s like to watch your husband hold the son that he’s longed and prayed for. I cried.

1:00 a.m.

My parents (dubbed Honey and Grumpy) and Kelli came in to meet the newest Edwards/Hernandez family member. As tired as I was, I couldn’t keep my eyes off of my family. Marcus and I kept saying over and over that we couldn’t believe MJ was finally here. Then came time to feed MJ, but I was starving. My sweet husband had the perfect solution. I fed MJ, while Marcus fed me fries from Whataburger. Never had cold, two-hour old fries tasted so good. The rest of the night/early morning was a blur. The nurse gave MJ his first bath, and then we all headed up to my new hospital room.

3:30 a.m.

We were finally in the room, and after visiting with my new nurse, Marcus, MJ and I settled in for some much needed rest. As busy and exciting as the past few hours had been, little did we know that it was only the beginning…