Maggie came a week and some hours past her due date, in following suit of her brothers' lateness. I was sore and grouchy at everybody asking always when the baby was coming and how I was feeling, I'm sure I was screening all calls and most texts. I know, so nice of me.
My mom had flown in the day after my due date cause I figured that since Ellis was 9 days and then Hudson was 6 days late, this baby would be 3 days late for sure. I was so wrong. On Friday the 16th, my 41 week mark, I went in for a non stress test and an ultrasound where they informed me of what I knew. The baby was fine and just not ready. I scheduled another for Monday morning and hoped I wouldn't have to go (or pay for it again!)... And that my mom would even still be in town. Luckily she added a few extra days to her trip. That night we started making homemade pizzas and I was working on quilting a quilt I'd been working on the past week for the baby. I started having random contractions, not at all consistent, just here and there something small to think about. We ate dinner and went upstairs to put the boys to sleep. My mom retired to the basement to play on her iPad and I stayed up in our room feeling contractions suddenly start at 8. They started out about 6 minutes apart and right off the bat were pretty painful. I laid on the bed and as they quickly got closer together moved hanging off the side of the bed. An hour later they were about 3 1/2 minutes apart and I was blowing through them, so I decided to let Damon know. Another hour later they were about 2 1/2 minutes apart and we decided to call the midwife on call to ask her when she wanted me to go in. I was in a lot of pain and felt like they were coming on pretty quick, but I was terrified of being in the hospital after our perfect home birth. I didn't want to get there too early and have to be In labor there for a long time. Because I called her in between contractions, she didn't seem super concerned and told me to call back in a couple hours or if they got closer together. Damon wasn't super convinced about that but I still wanted to push it further. So I hopped into the shower for some more relief and had Damon keep timing them on my phone.
At this point contractions were consistently 2 minutes apart with some coming on after as little as a minute apart, and Damon was starting to really push me to get out and go to the hospital. I finally agreed and we grabbed our bags and left. This was the point where the whole thing turned into a ridiculous funny loud movie scene with Damon speeding on the highway and me yelling at him to 'slow down and stop driving crazy' in between yelling about contractions that wouldn't give me a break. We got to the hospital a little after 11 and Damon ran in to get a wheelchair which I knew I wasn't going to sit in, but I was trying to regain composure and wait for a pause in contractions to be able to walk in. Didn't happen. So I just yelled my way through them waddling into the hospital, yelled going up the elevator, yelled at the check-in desk while the nurse tried to ask me some kind of stupid questions like my address or something.
They sent me into triage and tried to get me hooked up to everything so I could get a round of antibiotics, which I didn't make easy on them. I was begging for help or drugs or anything to help the pain of the contractions that were so close together I don't think I ever stopped screaming. Poor other women on the floor... My water broke in there, Damon tells me, and I started apologizing for getting everything wet. I really need to stop apologizing for things like this. They finally moved me into a room and I shouted that I wanted an epidural and NOW! I've never had one before, didn't want one, and was terrified of getting it but I just couldn't get on top of these contractions like I could with Hudson's birth. They were so fast and so strong, I couldn't stand it. They told me the anesthesiologist would come as soon as possible but in the meantime I needed to hee hee hoo instead of yelling so much. I wish I could have punched whoever said that, right in the mouth.
Finally the anesthesiologist showed up and started asking me questions and they tried to get me to sit on the side of the bed which is impossible when you are having the worst pain in the universe and also when your feet don't touch the ground so all your weight is supported on a baby head that is down in your rear. I finally was pulled up and clutching onto the poor anesthesiologist shirt front as he was trying to explain the risks and whatever else and I was just begging him to hurry up. But the second I sat up I felt it, that urge to push that can't be stopped or denied. I panicked, knowing the baby was coming and asked him to please give me the epidural. Well of course everyone else knew I had started pushing as well and he apologetically said he didn't think he could give me anything because the baby was coming. I screamed some more and wouldn't let him leave, as I was still clinging to his shirt as I bore down more and more. Poor guy. He finally released himself from my clutches and rushed out the room, and I was pushed back down and told so happily by my midwife that the baby was coming and it would be over soon (yeah happy for her!). After a few minutes of pushing and begging somebody to pull the baby out please and begging for it all to be over, out slid a little baby!
All I could feel was relief as the plopped the baby on my stomach and started rustling it up and Damon kept asking 'what is it!?' When somebody finally said 'it's a girl!' I was so shocked. I couldn't believe I had my little Margaret.
It was the most painful and quick labor I've had so far at 4 1/2 hours from start of contractions to finish. And the best prize in the end. I was super embarrassed about what a lunatic I'd been the whole time and started apologizing to everyone about 8 seconds after she was born and then to every person I saw through the next day when we left the hospital. It was a loud and fast labor, thank goodness because I wouldn't have made I through another hour. Maggie was the best little newborn and hours after she was born I was happily shopping for girls clothes online and deciding on a middle name. We decided on Holland, after an apostle of our church whom we love and who has an unwavering testimony of Christ's love. I hope she is as bold as he is in her testimony and her knowledge of who she is as a child of Heavenly parents. Margaret was my grandmother's name, and I hope with all of my heart she as strong, loving, and beautiful as that woman I love so much. I wish they could have met here but I know that my Maggie was held and loved by her great grandma before she made her way here to me.