benjamin's birthday story

I was a conflicted girl throughout my pregnancy with Benjamin. On one hand, I knew he was likely to be my last baby, and I wanted to soak in every moment. On the other, I was miserable and couldn't help but wish the weeks away. And, of course, now that he's here, those long nine months don't seem so long, and a *small* part of me wouldn't mind doing it all over again.
Benjamin was born on Saturday, January 30th, at around 3 a.m. I never want to forget the big and small details of that day, and--with my mommy brain--it's likely I'll do just that unless I write it all down. I'll start on the day before.

Friday morning: I busied myself with cleaning all morning. Both sets of grandparents were coming down for the weekend, and the pressure to "deliver" had me feeling a little overwhelmed. I didn't feel well, but who does at 9 months pregnant?
Friday afternoon: Still cleaning (you never really stop when you've got preschoolers) and playing with Kate and Sam. I really wasn't feeling well--kind of crampy--but I'd been feeling icky for days. Mom and Dad arrived, and I was relieved to have some extra hands on deck to help with the kiddos. Stephen and I had made plans to have dinner at Scalini's. Their eggplant parmesan sent me into labor with Sam; were were hoping for similar results.
Friday early evening: Mamaw and Papaw pulled in just as Stephen and I were leaving for dinner. We hugged their necks and told everyone we'd be back in about two hours. As we settled into the drive, I noticed that my "cramps" were a bit more regular than I thought...about every 6 minutes. We kept driving. By the time we arrived at Scalini's, my contractions were every 3-4 minutes apart. We ordered anyway. Three bites into my yummy dinner, we realized that we had to go to the hospital. That is some serious eggplant parmesan :)
Friday night: My worst fear walking into Labor and Delivery was that they would turn me away. You think a girl would know when she's about to have a baby, but I was so nervous that they would send me home. And they nearly did. The triage nurse was not impressed by my contractions and said that I could either get a shot and go home or walk the halls for an hour. We opted for the walk. Forty-five minutes later, everyone was certain that I was in labor. Mom and Dad came to the hospital and we all tried to settle in for the night. I was nervous and excited; Stephen was asleep on the ridiculously small couch. Around midnight, Mamaw called. Kate was awake and anxious. She missed her mommy and insisted that she couldn't sleep without me singing "Where are you going?". And so I sang. It may seem silly, but it was such a precious moment to me.
Early Saturday morning: The nurse suddenly realized that Benjamin was breach. They suspected that he turned sometime during labor. I knew right away that I would have to have a c-section, and the tears came. A lot of them. I was scared, nervous, disappointed, frustrated. Mostly scared. Stephen was right there beside me, reassuring me that everything was okay, that this was Benjamin's story, and I knew he was right. Fifteen minutes later, Benjamin was in his daddy's arms. My beautiful, beautiful boy.

Benjamin's delivery wasn't at all what I expected. But he's here, and I'm here. That's about all that matters in the end. And an emergency surgery can teach you a few things. The big one for me: The perception that I'm in control is just that--a perception. Thank goodness I have a God who loves me like crazy and makes the details of my life--big and small--his business.