You Are Doing This

June 10, 2009, I found out that I was pregnant. I'll always remember the day because it was the day after my Sweet Annalee's third birthday. After confirming my condition, I simply emailed Scott at work with an illustration of a bunch of cells that represented a 6 week pregnancy and the words: "Don't tell anyone." We kept our little secret for quite some time. I was about 18 weeks pregnant before we spilled the beans. At about the time that I thought I needed a little more room in my clothes and succumbed to the dreaded maternity box.

Time marched on, and we continued to grow.

Scott and I both had agreed upon not finding out the gender of our growing baby. The usual questioned were asked with the usual responses.

"So, are you having a girl or a boy?"

"We don't know"

"Oh, I could NEVER do that. I am too impatient"

or

"Well, you have one of each, so you're already prepared"

or

"Why?"

"Because there are far too little surprises in life, and I like a good surprise."

The same questions and responses over and over. Honestly, I really did want the surprise. There were times I was tempted to find out, but I am glad we didn't.

Pregnancy is an amazing experience that comes with it's high points and low point. For the most part, I do extremely well. Considering how tough it can get, my biggest complaint is heartburn. There are far more serious complications that I am thankful I do not have to endure.

The time passed slowly, but the moment that resulted in a beautiful baby happened last Tuesday, 2/9/10. I woke up at 1am and discovered that my water broke.

A quiet "Hey," was all I needed to say to get Scott's attention. He came right into the bathroom and understood my situation immediately. I took a few minutes to shower and collect a few things to take to the hospital while Scott called my dad. He was put 'on call' to be the one to stay with our kids when we needed to make a dash to the hospital.

At about 2:30 am, we were at the doors of the Women's Center of the hospital. After explaining what was going on, we were admitted and promptly 'checked' to see where I was at in the labor process. For the past two appointments with my doctor, I was at a mere one centimeter out of ten. What a relief to be told I was at four centimeters.

A very common question at this point would be "Do you want an epidural?" With my first pregnancy, the response was a very committed "YES." I had already endured 10 excruciating hours of back labor and was scared to have to endure more. With the second pregnancy, which started a lot milder, I was told that I needed to decide right away because the anesthesiologist was about to go home and they didn't want to call him right back. So, with the second one, I did say yes, but it was more out of convenience.

Throughout this pregnancy, I kept thinking that if labor started like my second one, I was willing to endure the labor longer. After all, nothing is worse that back labor. So, when the nursing staff asked if I wanted that blessed epidural, I calmly refused. "I'm up for the challenge to see how far I can get."

To fill the time, we sat and read books. I had brought "Alice in Wonderland" thinking it would be enough of a distraction to help me through the contractions but it turned out to be a disappointment. The book really was boring and too fragmented. This is one time that I'd say the movie was better than the book. Either way, I calmly managed each contraction. I knew when one was starting, peaking and diminishing. When one was starting, I simply put my head down, closed my eyes and continued with controlled breathing until it was diminishing. Scott and the nurse knew to stop talking during each contraction and we'd resume our conversation when it was over.

Labor did get wild at the end. For the last three centimeters, the baby's heart rate would drop at the wrong time during a contraction. I was laid down on my side, given an oxygen mask and told to breath deeply. Easier said than done. Once I was laid down, my labor turned into that excruciating back labor and I couldn't do anything about it. The contractions started piling up on top of each other without a break in between to prepare for the next one. Just as I was 'complete' I felt mother natures overwhelming urges to PUSH. Scott has since said that he now knows that I have a set of lungs. I pretty much lost my voice while my body was pushing. I was doing my best to push, but really, it was my body and mother nature that did the job. I just had to endure it.

Evan Liddell Davis was born at 7:50 am on February 9, 2010. He weighed 8lbs and was 19.5in long.

What a beautiful boy!! I am so thankful that he is now a part of our family and we can already feel his sweet spirit.

I keep asking myself how I was able to endure labor and delivery without an epidural.

I have an amazing husband. Scott would support me in anything that I wanted to do, even if it seemed too hard or impossible. He was there for me the entire time. We were so united during that experience. He knew exactly what to do for me and never once got offended or made it 'about himself.'

I was mentally prepared for the challenge. I had reread the labor and delivery section of my book countless times. I also had experience on my side.

One other element added to my success of natural delivery and I realized this on the drive home from the hospital. My labor nurse, Page, knew exactly what to say. She didn't say "You can do this," or "I've seen lots of women go natural." There are a number of other cliche phrases that she could have used that would have been more aggravating than encouraging. She simply said,

"You are doing this."