Toby turns one in just two days. James and I cannot believe how fast this year went! I have found myself thinking a lot about one year ago...


What a crazy time it was, after I was released from the hospital in Salt Lake, it still wasn't clear if I would be allowed to fly home. My doctor said if I dilated any further, he wouldn't allow it. So, I waited out the holiday...New Year's...and saw him on the afternoon of the 2nd. We decided James should go home as planned, on the morning of the 2nd, because really I was hoping to fly with Thomas, as planned, on January 5th. My doctor checked me and said he couldn't believe it, but I hadn't dilated anymore, so if I wanted to go, I better go now!


My mom decided after getting the news, that she would fly back to MD with us. We all felt better that if I did find myself in labor or having problems, that even though she wouldn't be able to help me, she would be there for Thomas and he wouldn't get lost in all the craziness.


Well, the most violent intestinal flu that I've ever had in my life started kicking in before I got on that plane. I took quite a few of my pills to stop the contractions on that flight. We made it to MD and I even spent a few hours at home before I admitted to my mom and James that I wasn't feeling well. I spent that night in the hospital because I was extremely dehydrated. They got me hydrated again and sent me home the next morning.


But, the flu picked up again and I think I was dehydrated again by that night. I called my OB's office the next morning, explained to them what had been going on, ( I had been seen by one of the OB's while in the hospital) and wanted to know what I could take. All they could recommend was the smallest dose of what I consider the mildest anti-diarrhea medicine. So, of course, it didn't help.


The next morning, I went into that OB's office for my "check-up", I told that doctor what was going on with my body, and his opinion was entirely different, "You go out and buy whatever you need to and take however much you need to to stop that from happening" was his reaction. Sometimes a second opinion is really worth it! I stocked up on Imodium, because I knew that would do the trick, and I felt better within hours.


I should back up and mention that my mom took care of Thomas while I was sick. Thank goodness for my mom, who has taken more flights to take care of Thomas while I camped out in my bedroom then I think she has for "fun" MD trips!


On Wednesday, I had an appointment with the neo-natal specialist I had been seeing. It was for a routine sonogram that they do at 32-34 weeks. It was determined that Toby weighed around 4 pounds, 10 or 14 ounces and I went home relieved that he was that big! That was huge for an almost 34 week baby! And, I had only gained 9 pounds during that pregnancy. I believe I probably gained some in December, because I REALLY, REALLY tried because I was freaked out a bit by how much I hadn't gained, but I think I lost everything I gained that month because of the diarrhea.


After the appointment, my mom, Thomas and I went to Target and registered for a few baby things because some dear friends of mine were having a baby shower for me the next week. I felt better than I had in a while, was glad to be back in MD, and felt confident that I could hold on at least another four weeks...


That night, I felt some stronger contractions before going to bed, so I took two of my pills (terbutaline), and hoped for the best. The neo-natal specialist had told me that I had reached the point in pregnancy that if I started up again they wouldn't stop me. So, I figured what would be, would be and that I was going to get some sleep and hopefully feel normal in the morning.


The next morning, I was awakened by some stronger contractions. Of course, it took having a few of them, before I realized that this was probably the real thing. And I will always be mad at myself that I didn't take a couple more of my pills. I think it would have slowed things down enough to get the very-much-wanted epidural! Maybe the doctors wouldn't stop me, but I could have slowed me! James was in the shower, I started timing them, and let him finish his shower before I announced that he wouldn't be going to work that day.


I wanted to time some more contractions before calling the OB's office and I wanted to take a fast bath, apply a little make-up and pop in my contacts (hey, I didn't insist on washing and styling my hair!). We let my mom know what was going on, and we will always be thankful that she was there that day and we didn't have to worry about Thomas.


We got to the hospital at about 8:10 AM. The contractions were getting painful. The receptionist at the front desk was fairly quick...but not as quick as the one that I had with Thomas, who insisted we could "do all of this later on!". I got into my room and the nurse that was dealing with me was entirely too relaxed. I was trying to get undressed and dressed in the hospital gown as quickly as possible and I wanted to see a doctor. I kept insisting that I needed to be checked. The doctor probably showed up at 8:25, but it seemed like forever to me. She was the same doctor that saw me over the weekend. She checked me and said, "Oh my God!", that's never a good sign... "She continued, you're at a 6, looks like you'll have your baby today!"


I immediately started to cry. The doctor wanted to know if I was crying because I was worried about the baby. I replied, that no, I knew he'd be fine but I wanted and epidural! By this point, we also had a roomful of Labor & Delivery nurses and a NICU (technically still called a "Special Care nursery at that time, but it has now achieved NICU status) nurse in there with us, so there was an uproar of laughter. Then I replied that I had already had a natural delivery with my first son and I absolutely didn't want to do it again!


The doctor explained that they would do everything they could to get that epidural in me, but first I had to get one more round of antibiotics (to help my premature baby) and I needed a bag of fluids in my body. However, they could hook me up with two IV's and speed up the process.

So, I sat in bed with an IV in each elbow and went through transition. I suppose because I had gone through it before it wasn't as scary. I kept looking at the bag of fluids, drip-dripping into my body and I knew what the outcome would be. The pain and pressure got intense and I asked for the doctor. The nurse tried to hold me off but I told her, "no, she needs to come back and check me".


Dr. Vorlous came in and did a quick check. I was at a 9 1/2 ! The first thing she said to me was, "Sorry, sweetie, you're not going to get that epidural." My water hadn't broke yet so she gave me two options; wait for the water to break, or she could break it and we could have the baby. I chose that latter. She broke my water and said, "I'll let you start when you feel like it".


And so, I decided to start pushing a moment later. But not with the attitude of "I can do this" or "Let's meet my new, sweet baby" but with the mindset of "Get out you little SHIT! Get out the one that was so hard to conceive, the one that made me so sick, and the one that caused everyone so much worry. Get out the one that is in too big of a hurry for mommy to get an epidural! Get out! Get out! Get out!" Truly touching, I know!


Three or four pushes later, at 9:36 AM, Toby was born. Even though he was tiny (3 pounds, 13 ounces), he came out screaming, ("that's what we like to hear on those preemies" is what the doctor said) so they still let me hold him for a minute before they whisked him away. I looked right into his little face and instantly fell in love with him and forgave him at the same time.