Before too much time passes, I'd really like to finally put my version of Ayrton's birth on paper (so to speak). I say "my version" because I have come to realize that while I was in labor, giving birth was the only thing I was focused on. My attention was like a tunnel straight to the outcome of the event--safely giving birth and holding our new baby in my arms. I nearly lost sight of everything else that was going on around me, especially as labor progressed. Not that I will ever forget these special moments, as I am sure all mothers know they are impossible to overlook, but I am eager to get this story into words so I can have something to look back on someday and relive how it all happened.

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As a reader, you may think that Ayrton's birth was anything but eventful, but for me it is one of the most important events of my life. It started as soon as I woke up on the morning of Saturday February 20th, 2016, at 38 weeks and 5 days pregnant. I had gone to bed at a decent hour the night before due to a stomach ache that I wanted to sleep away. I was awoken bright and early at 5am to some mild cramps, or what came to be known as early contractions. I had my suspicions that something was happening, as I had not had any cramping previously and then lost my mucus plug as soon as I visited the bathroom.

I waited until 7:30am to start timing contractions, at which point I began harassing Ashton for guessing months in advance that we'd have the baby on the 20th, and then we both updated social media to give our friends and family a heads up that the baby would probably be arriving soon.

Our morning routine wasn't much different from any other morning; the three of us had breakfast and got dressed and Ashton and I entertained Liana with her toys in the living room before deciding to go grocery shopping around 10:30am. Contractions were picking up all morning, but I decided walking around the grocery store would speed up the process and really get things moving along (you can't go wrong with a bit of last minute prenatal exercise!). During our shopping trip is when the reality of the situation started to hit me and I knew for sure I'd be meeting my baby later that day. I found myself shuffling across crosswalks and around the store through the contractions. I felt like the slowest pedestrian on Earth!

We came home about an hour later and I was so relieved to sit down, that I plopped myself down on the couch to rest for a moment and I ended up not moving for a half an hour. It was around noon when I decided it was time I should try getting up, but as soon as I was on my feet I had to make an emergency trip to the toilet to get sick. I thought about leaving this part of the story out, but for me it was the real turning point. That is when I absolutely knew my baby would be here in only a few short hours. I was actually quite concerned, because after I got sick while in labor with Liana I was holding her in my arms within the hour. So I rushed to call the midwife at the hospital and expressed our need to hurry in because we had a 45 minute drive ahead of us. I remember being panicked and telling her the situation was urgent and I didn't want anything to happen during the car ride.

We arrived at the hospital just after 1pm and made arrangements for my mom to meet us there and look after Liana so that Ashton could be with me throughout the labor and delivery. The contractions had gotten much worse by the time we arrived and I was struggling to walk across the street and into the building. I was mildly annoyed that nobody was in the registration room and that when someone finally arrived, she went on to check in another patient before bringing me to the labor ward even though she could clearly tell I was in pain. Then I sat in triage for what seemed like ages--I was getting sick into a plastic bag while nurses walked right past me, carrying on as if I wasn't in need of emergent care. Finally a nurse brought me back to the exam room where she determined I was dilated eight centimeters and wrapped two bands around my belly to monitor contractions and the baby's heart rate.

We eventually gathered our belongings to officially head up to the labor and delivery room. I believe (and this is where my focus begins to tunnel) my mom arrived around 1:30pm and I had to say goodbye to Liana so she could be with my mom. It was a sad little moment where I had to put on my bravest face to hug and kiss her through a contraction. I watched Ashton and Liana disappear out of the doorway, and it was like watching our little family of three disappear as well. Very soon we'd be welcoming a new little bundle into our family of four.

I don't remember how long Ashton was truly gone for, but it felt like he was never coming back. I had an incredibly difficult time making it out of the wheelchair and into the bed. It must have taken at least ten minutes, as I stood bent over with my hands on the bed through several contractions and couldn't muster up the strength to pick my legs up to sit on the bed. This little movement was about to take a lot of effort and I had to work myself up for it. I was already fighting the urge to push (and failing), so the nurses weren't convinced that I would make it into the bed and began prepping the floor with blankets and towels and pillows to catch the baby! The next thing I remember is Ashton coming around to the opposite side of the bed and putting his hands on mine. I was so happy to see him (and was also wondering what had taken him so long!). After a few more contractions I took advantage of a sudden burst of energy and pulled myself up on the bed as quickly as I could.

In the midst of all the excitement and having finally made it through the tough part and being relieved to have my baby in my arms, I completely forgot that I didn't know whether my baby was a boy or a girl. This might sound completely silly to some, but it honestly didn't matter to me. I was happy that our family was growing and to feel my baby on my skin and to have Ashton by my side. The sex of my baby was not even a thought in my mind, as it had nothing to do with how I felt in that moment. I snapped back to reality when I heard the nurse say to Ashton, "go ahead, tell her what it is." I was initially confused, but Ashton said, "it's a boy." Wait, what? I was truly confused. I wish I could have seen my face because I have no idea how I physically reacted. In my head, I thought it was a mistake, because I had been sure for months that I was having a second daughter. But I had a son. A beautiful, squirmy, alert, brown haired, blue eyed, son.

From that moment on, my whole life changed. Again.

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I apologize for the length of time that had passed since part one, 'Life is Unpredictable', of this mini series, but please check back for the third and final post, 'Two Under Two', to wrap up Ayrton's birth.

Also, you can click {here} to read Liana's birth story and compare the details!

I was planning on writing up Ayrton's birth story in a similar style to how I wrote Liana's birth story, but as my son is now two weeks old, I am feeling quite different this time around and believe that should be reflected on my blog. I have decided to write about Ayrton's birth in a three part series to cover a bit of the events before his birth, the actual labor and birth story, and life postpartum with two children. Without further ado, let's jump right in!

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Against all odds, my first birthing experience went perfectly according to plan: I labored for as long as possible in the comfort of my own home, I labored in a tub at the hospital for 2 1/2 hours until I was ready to push, I pushed for only 15 minutes before I met my beautiful daughter without any pain medication or need for stitches afterward, and my daughter and I spent the first two hours of her life cuddling and breastfeeding. It was absolutely perfect and I rode the high for several weeks afterward.

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