our little firecracker

As I type this from my hospital bed, Charlie is sound asleep on the pull out chair. I really don't know why he is so tired. He got a beautiful sleep on Tuesday night while I was on the couch tossing and turning with (unbenownest to me) the discomforts of early labor - and he got a beautiful sleep last night, while I was poked and prodded by nurses and doctors every hour and nursing our newborn son every three hours.

Now he's happily snoring while I'm sitting here, looking at my breastpump machine and wishing I didn't give away my hands free pump bra so I could at least pump while I document the arrival of our fourth child.

Men. What can you do?

When we arrived at the hospital yesterday afternoon, my contractions were coming every nine minutes. I know that you're not suppose to go to the hospital until they are five minutes apart - but we made the executive decision that I should be checked out when I noticed that my socks were wet.

And I hadn't stepped in any puddles.

The contractions were somewhat painful - but I suspected that the doctor would tell us to go home and come back when they were closer together and more intense. Instead, they admitted me on the spot and quickly had me hooked up for monitoring.

My regular OB had finished a 12-hour shift from 7 PM to 7 AM, when we arrived. Therefore the doctor on-call was not familiar with my obsession rationalization for wanting to have a VBAC. When she looked over my records and said that we'd have to do a c-section as soon as possible, I told her that wasn't part of my "plan."

They checked me out and although Charlie thought for sure the baby would be crowning and I'd have to push a few times before he was born ... in reality, I was only 1/2 cm dilated. My regular OB was paged and even though he had left the hospital only a few hours earlier, he returned.

On the Fourth of July.

To see his flaky patient, that he was suppose to deliver by c-section last week ... and then rescheduled to do a c-section, this week.

Provided she didn't go in to labor first and deliver on the one day he was suppose to have off.

Which I did.

It is truly no exaggeration that every single person that I spoke to on the Labor and Delivery floor thought that I was totally off my rocker to attempt a VBAC after my triplet pregnancy. Particularly when they looked at my records and noted that when I delivered at 31 weeks, I was measuring 52 weeks pregnant. With HELLP Syndrome. And PUPPPS. And severe pitting edema - just like I have, now.

But despite what every medical professional was telling me, I was really determined.

Until - they checked me again - several hours later and I was still only at 1/2 cm dilated, despite my contractions which were now coming on every six minutes.

Because there was no way my doctor would induce me to help move things along, my options were limited ... (1) go for a c-section or (2) wait, who knows how long, for dilation and hope that the baby doesn't become distressed in the meantime.

The one thread of hope I was holding on to for a beautiful VBAC experience, was lost when the woman in the room next to mine, let out the most intense blood curdling scream I've ever heard in my entire life. The nurses told me that she had been in labor for more than 30 hours and was now getting prepped for a c-section.

After some more discussion with my doctor(s) and Charlie, I decided to go with a repeat c-section. I would have really liked to do a VBAC, but since I was not dilating and was informed that labor would most likely be very long - my entire focus shifted to getting the baby out as quickly and safely as possible.

Once I made that decision, things started to happen very fast.

After three attempts, they started my IV.

Drew blood for labs.

Whisked me off to the operating room.

Administered my spinal block.

Ushered Charlie in.

And the next thing I know - they are lifting out of me one of the most beautiful and fattest, newborn babies I've ever seen.

Our baby boy, who has still not been named, was born on July 4 at 4:32 PM.

He weighed in at 9 pounds, 12 ounces, 21 inches long and has rolls of fat on his arms, legs and face. He is absolutely perfect in every way and is an excellent cross between William and his sisters, with William's round face and his sisters brunette hair.

I'm doing pretty well - the recovery for a singleton c-section is not nearly as difficult as it was with the triplets. But of course there is discomfort and simple tasks like walking to the bathroom can take 10 minutes.

Chances are, I'll be in the hospital until at least Saturday. But Charlie tells me that he'll upload pictures the next time he goes home.

Provided he doesn't fall asleep first.