Family Time

Unsurprisingly to anyone who has given birth, or had a spouse who has given birth, or has watched a show about people giving birth, or heard about someone giving birth, it’s pretty danged stressful for everyone involved. And one of the most stressful parts can be knowing when to go to the hospital. If you go too soon, they send you home. If you go too late, you end up with a baby named Backseat or Parking Lot.

Baby #1
Katie and I went to the hospital as soon as she started having contractions. It was a lovely, scenic drive from Provo to Payson, with me not at all being a wreck while trying not to cause one. Once there, they told us to turn around and go home because she wasn’t far enough along. Well, her body didn’t have a nice, gradual increase in frequency of contractions. She basically went from 0 to 60 very quickly, and by the time we got back to the hospital she was ready to go. They did manage to get an epidural going, but I guess they had to dose her more than normal for it to have any effect, and it was the better part of a day after Sam was born before she could move her legs.

Baby #2
This time we wanted to be a little smarter, so as soon as the contractions started we called my parents to come watch Sam while we went. In the end we had to have our friend/landlord there to cover the gap, because once again her body went into overdrive. Allison was born 15 minutes after we got to the hospital. No epidural.

Baby #3
Last Friday Katie felt a couple weak contractions, so rather than tempt fate again we woke the kids up and headed straight for the hospital. We figured my parents could come pick them up from there. But in the end nothing happened. It’s the first time she had gotten and false signals, so it was frustrating to be all ready for once and have it not happen. I guess fate likes to keep us on our toes.

To be continued…

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