The week before Sims's unexpected arrival, we were anticipating a long-awaited and much needed break from the busyness of this past year and our non-stop travels of the previous three months. You may remember that G was really sick from a parasite back in the spring, followed by us packing up our home in Jordan and returning to the U.S. for our furlough. Then we were on the road from May to July. August and the first half of September were supposed to be our "relax and get settled" months before the arrival of our new son. We were also supposed to move into our rental house and start to get the ball rolling with our new work. Then came Sims.
I had been having minor cramping off and on for several weeks up until his delivery. On Thursday, August 5th I had a routine doctor's appointment and told him about the cramps. He said it was a lot more common to have them early with baby #2 but to call if I had more than six contractions for three consecutive hours. Honestly, I hadn't been keeping track, but I didn't think they had been as frequent as that so I left the office without saying anything. The rest of the day I started keeping count, and realized that they were coming at least six times an hour and had been doing so for at least a couple of days.
Jono and I discussed it and figured the cause was probably me overworking my body, taking long walks, carrying 30 pound G up and down stairs, the stress of all our travels and the non-stop schedule of the previous months. So we decided that I would just take it easy, stay off my feet more, and see if the contractions subsided. I guess we figured that would be what the doctor would tell us anyway if I went to see him.
The Branches, friends of ours that we met living in Jordan, came into town on Thursday night to spend the weekend with us. On Friday we went to the pool, dropped by our new rental house (which we were not yet moved into), relaxed and enjoyed their company. The contractions seemed to be less frequent, so I didn't think about it much more.
Funny, on Friday night, just before falling asleep I started thinking "What if my water breaks and I go into labor?" Weird, because about 30 minutes later my water broke. I immediately got up from bed and ran into the bathroom. The water was so bloody that I thought I might be bleeding to death.
My thoughts at the time were that either A) I was in labor and my water had broken or B) I had had a placental abruption and the baby and I were in serious danger. The second possibility being foremost in my mind, we headed straight for the county hospital where they hooked me and the baby up to check out our vitals. It took the doctor 45 minutes to show up and I spent that time watching the nurses look at one another and make whispered comments to one another. It was a little unnerving. But the doctor finally came in and determined that it was just labor and that I was stable enough to transfer via ambulance to the main hospital in Macon, where they are able to adequately care for preterm babies.
I rolled into the main hospital a couple of hours later, around 1 a.m. where my doctor was waiting to check me out. I was dilated about four centimeters, and he said he expected me to deliver sometime over the weekend. He didn't think delivery was eminent. An hour or so later I asked for some pain medication, so they slipped me some Tylenol. The contractions slowed down after that, but then came back with a vengeance around 5 a.m. Mind you, I was still under the impression that I wouldn't deliver anytime soon, and I knew they had me hooked up to all sorts of monitors, so I didn't feel like I should have to explain that I felt my labor was picking up. By 6 a.m. I was miserable and asked the doctor for more meds. He rechecked me and I was dilated to 7 cm.
From 5 to 6:45 a.m. is pretty much a blur for me. It's funny to look back on because I seriously thought I might die from the pain. It was not one of my stoic moments. Anyway, toward the end I felt like I had to push so the nurse hustled the doctor in and the room was flooded with nurses and others on hand to help out. Two pushes later, out flew Simeon, all 4 lb 12 oz and 17 and 3/4 inches of him.
Sims was perfect. But they wanted to keep an eye on him for a few days, so they put him in the Level 2 NICU. As it turns out, the only thing we were waiting for was for him to get an appetite and figure out how to eat. All his organs and body parts were in perfect condition. He ended up being in the hospital for a week and was released on August 13th.
I am so glad this story had a happy ending. It was hard and stressful, but we are unbelievably grateful for this healthy little boy, who has since turned into a chunky monkey. Two and a half months later, we are feeling sane and mostly normal and enjoying having Sims out of the preemie phase. Thank you Jesus.
