With our previous two kids, both of them decided they wanted to stay in the womb until the last minute. In fact, they both made it until their scheduled C-section date. This time, our son had different plans.
On the first weekend in April, my wife started to have some contractions. Nothing major, we thought. Then, on late Saturday night, April 6, they became more and more uncomfortable. After a brief mid-morning call to the doctor, we drove to my in-laws house to drop the girls off around 3 a.m. Then we headed to Rex Healthcare.
While at Rex, they ran tests and hooked my wife up to various machines. We settled in. An IV bag was started and the contractions seemed to dissipate as quickly as they had arrived. I was beginning to think this was a test.
On Monday of last week, we had another obstetrics appointment and they went ahead and moved the delivery date and C-section up to April 18. The doctor was nervous that keeping the date out any further might do more harm than good.
On Saturday, as we hung around the house and watched the Masters, my wife started having contractions again. Shortly after lunch, they became very uncomfortable for her and we called the obstetrician again.
Off to Rex we went, again stopping by the in-laws to drop off the girls. By the time we arrived in the labor and delivery triage, something was different with my wife. I hadn't seen this face of pain before. She had never labored with the first two kids. Suddenly, her contractions got to about six minutes apart.
In the next bay of the triage area, we could hear a woman having severe contractions who was panting and moaning in pain. My wife made the face of "I don't want that!!"
Soon after, her doctor showed up. Coincidentally, it was the doctor who was going to do the C-section. Perhaps we were narrowing in on what was supposed to happen. As they were talking, her contractions started coming closer and closer together and the decision was made.
"We are going to deliver today" is what I heard from the doctor. The rest is a blur and honestly didn't matter.
Shortly before 7 p.m. this past Saturday, our son was delivered. My first son. Our third child. Again, I was lucky enough to be in the delivery room to experience this. Somehow though, it felt different. I don't know if it is because I have had little girls around for the last nine years or what. But it was just a different feeling altogether.
The staff asked if anyone wanted to wager a guess on how big he was going to be. I guessed 11 pounds, plus a few ounces. I cannot remember exactly. My wife guessed a tad bit more than me. I won!!
He came in at a whopping 11 pounds, 1 ounce. Jeb, as we are calling him, and his momma are both doing fine. Our family is now blessed with three little ones. Two big sisters to watch over their little brother.
I am truly one blessed and lucky daddy and husband!!!
Mike Slawter is the father of two girls in Raleigh. He has been on his stay at-home daddy adventure now for more than a year. You can follow him on his blog.