Thursday night I had gone walking with Maddi and had consistent contractions for and hour but when I got home things calmed down. Marc had gotten pretty excited and had his shoes and game face on, but by 10pm we decided just to go to bed.

Friday, June 14th, we got up like every morning and by 6:30am we had all eaten breakfast. While Marc was getting his shoes, dental glasses, and lunch together he asked about any contractions and if he should stay home from the clinic in Phoenix today. “I have no idea,” I responded so the girls and I sent him off after prayers with a kiss.

We had a normal morning, the girls went from playing happily to teasing each other to tears. Figuring brother was coming any day now, my chances of mopping were now limited, plus the girls always like to leave souvenirs and remnants of breakfast on the floor; I swept and mopped the kitchen, vacuumed the house, and tidied up. Hazel and I ran to Walmart while Ruby stayed to watch Hannah Montana with Eve. Hazel loves going to the store just the two of us. She always asks to sit in Ruby’s car seat and is just giggly and delighted the whole time.

Back home the girls and I spread all their favorite blankets out on the family room floor and made a giant magic carpet with pillows. We read “one fish, two fish, red fish, blue fish” a few times along with other favorites. I dozed off on the floor and woke up some time later to the girls giggling naughtily in their room. They dumped all their clothes and made to sure to spread them out all over their room and beds. After a cool five in the garage we put the room back together, had mermaid fruit smoothies for lunch, and everyone laid down for naps.

At noon, I was dozing off in bed with some contractions. Marc called to check on me and I realized I was breathing harder and the contractions were stronger. Me- (interrupting Marc) “Um, these contractions are kinda serious.” “Do you think you should go to the hospital?”, he asked. “Yeah.” Then I hung up on Marc. I started calling Mom and Jo, repeatedly with no answers. Then I called Abby at 12:22 pm, she answered, and was at my house in 3 minutes. We got Micah next door to stay with my sleeping girls and we left.

I got out by the hospital doors about 12:45 pm and grabbed a nurse near by who got me in a wheelchair. Contractions were really heavy but in the short break between was a sweet relief.

There are two check in desks for the maternity wing. One was occupied and the other was stationed by a gray haired, hard of hearing lady in her sixties. The nurse wheeled me over and asked if the older lady would check me in. “I’m on my break…” she responded annoyed by the question. Meanwhile I am panting in front of her in obviously pain. The nurse probing asked if the older lady could please clock back in just to get me checked in so I could be taken back to triage. “Fine.” At this point Abby had parked the car and was with me trying to help me get into triage. I’m now getting a little desperate and just start saying, “I need to get into triage, I’m having a baby!” The check in lady stops, looks up at Abby and I and said, “My computer is being slow and you will just need to wait till I can check you in.” Continued heavy breathing by me. “How far along are you?”, she asked. “Thirty-eight weeks,” I puff out through a contraction. Then she continued to stare at me like she was waiting for a more exact response. “That’s the best I can do right now,” – bent over breathing heavy. “I need to get into triage, I’m having a baby.” She then got out her little circular pregnancy calculator off her desk and asked for my due date. “You’re thirty-seven weeks and six days.” (Great. Still in the middle of having a baby). Abby asked if she could stay in the lobby to finish checking me in and if the nurse could please take me back. The gray haired gate keeper conceded and the nurse pushed me into triage.

“I. Am. Having. A. Baby.” I quickly told the triage nurse, as I struggled to get out of the wheelchair. She smiled, nodded her head and kindly explained, “Okay, just step in the bathroom, take off all your clothes, put on the gown, and try to go potty.” I managed to take my bottoms off and just my shirt to sit on the toilet. Serious pressure and he was crowning. I yanked on the flimsy “pull for help” line and started screaming for help. A brunette nurse walked in, she did a quick take in of the situation and immediately helped me on the bed. I was still wearing my sandals and bra.

Suddenly there were like four nurses in my room (all kinda freaking out). The baby was totally crowning. At first the nurses were saying “Don’t push… don’t push,” but it was quickly obviously to all that that was impossible. Baby was coming. Then it was like a water ballon exploded and everyone was in the splash zone. Two pushes later at 12:56 pm Levi Max was here.

“That’s one way to have a baby”- one nurse said as they covered my lower half and wheeled my bed to a labor and delivery room. When I got to my room I asked the nurses to please take my shoes off.

Five minutes later Marc made it. He was helping Abby with the check in lady and came rushing down the hallway. The nurse that gave him the room number told him to “Relax, baby is already here.”

Levi was exactly 8 pounds of heaven.