I had an appointment with my midwife on July 3 at 1pm, a day before my due date, and just felt so very ready to be done. I asked her to sweep my membranes to see if we could kick start anything. Hadn't even considered that with my first pregnancy, but chasing a two year old and lugging my 40 week belly around just wasn't fun. At all! Luke, Little A, and I headed home for some lunch and a nap. I awoke at 4pm to mild discomfort and by 6pm Luke had called my parents to pick up Little A. I wasn't fully convinced it was the real deal until I snuggled Little A for a while before he left and found myself an emotional wreck. My darling boy, what was this change going to do to him? I was so worried.
Off to the hospital by 8pm and arrived at 6.5cm dilated. Intervals of standing and the tub and by 10pm my body said it was time to push. My water hadn't broken, but standing next to the bed a really strong contraction hit and splat. My midwife was right there, tucked of few towels under my feet, and I stood there and pushed. And wouldn't you know it pushing sure was quicker the second time around. With 4 or 5 pushes he popped right out as the midwife passed him up into my arms. Finally I was comfortable to enough to rest. I plunked down on the bed and snuggled my new baby close.
Even in all those precious moments after I found myself thinking of my Little A and hoping that excitement and love would be what he would feel. My parents and the newly crowned big brother arrived within the hour and wouldn't you know it, Little A was absolutely enamored with "his" baby. Don't you just love how kiddies call their siblings their baby! Thus far my luck has held out. The brothers are already besties. Knowing that they get to have each other in this short life is such a comfort. I love the ring of "my boys." Sounds just right.
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