David Crosby Garner

I was originally due on February 28th, but early on in my pregnancy the Dr. moved it to February 18th. I asked him multiple times at multiple appointments if he was still planning on the 18th, because I didn't want to get my head wrapped around the 18th, only to go past that date, and live in anxiety for the next 2 weeks. He always assured me that the 18th was the day. The 18th came and went. Then then 19th, 20th, and 21st, on which day I had an appointment. I asked him if I could be induced. He said I'd have to wait till Monday (the 25th)since he was at a conference that weekend. And then on his way out the door he casually threw out, "Maybe your due date really was the 28th!"

So I not-so-patiently waited 4 more days. As much as I wanted to just slow down and enjoy the last bit of my time being pregnant, especially knowing that this was my last, it was really hard to be positive. I was so incredibly uncomfortable. Richie and the kids worked so hard around the house to keep it tidy just in case I went into labor, and they pampered me with foot massages and baths. I have the best husband and best kids, hands down! Although I was scheduled to be induced on Monday, I tried to put it out of my head because I've heard so many stories of people waiting to be induced who keep getting pushed back because women in active labor come first. I told myself I'd have to wait another day or two. Well, Sunday night a nurse called me to let me know they had plenty of beds available and to plan on coming in at 7 tomorrow morning!

Our plans took a turn when we realized that Mom (Garner) had come down with some nasty sickness and didn't want to risk having the kids with her, in case it spread to baby. So who was going to watch the kids tomorrow while we had this baby? Aunt Makenna to the rescue! She stepped in immediately and it wasn't until we got that all figured out that I could actually breath a little. She saved the day, truly. Of course, now that I knew this baby was coming tomorrow for sure, I was on high alert. We got the kids in bed, I had a good cry by myself in the bathroom (typical for me every time I go into labor) and then despite my achy body, I started cleaning the house, packing bags, putting breakfast in the crockpot, etc. Finally, Richie convinced me to watch a show with him to get my mind off things. We stayed up later than normal because I couldn't shut my brain off. And to top things off, Benson had a truly awful night's sleep (not typical for him). So we woke up the next morning, preparing to bring a new baby into the world, completely and utterly exhausted.

The only hiccup in our plan was that we didn't feel comfortable calling anyone over to the house that early in the morning to be with the kids while Richie got me checked in at the hospital. So we prepped the kids on what would happen that morning, put Miles in charge, had breakfast ready for them, and then Richie took me to the hospital. After I was all checked in, he went back home and got the kids ready to take up to Aunt Makenna's. We have let the kids stay home alone for 20 minutes, here and there, if we needed to run an errand or something. But this time, we were gone for about an hour. They were a little nervous, I was a little nervous, so I felt a million times better once I knew they were safe at Aunt Makenna's house, and Richie was next to me in the hospital room strumming away happily on his ukulele.

I had such a sweet nurse and we got the pitocin started nice and slow. By about noon, the contractions were getting a little uncomfortable. Not enough to warrant an epidural yet, but I took one anyway because the anesthesiologist was heading into surgery and I didn't want to risk not having one. The pain subsided and I took a nap! At one point I got a little light headed and hot and sweaty, so they monitored my blood pressure, but everything was fine. I was just so exhausted. I literally just laid there and chatted with Richie, slept, watched Netflix etc. The nurse kept thinking things would speed up once something happened, like breaking my water etc. I kept telling her, nope, my labors take about 12 hours. She didn't believe I'd labor till 7. Well around 5, the contractions were getting noticeably more painful. I love epidurals because it takes the edge off, but I could still feel all the pressure I needed to. By 7, I was fighting the urge to push until the Dr. could get in the room and ready to go. All it took was pushing through one contraction, and Davy was here! It was the most pain I'd felt while pushing the baby out, but of course all is forgotten once they place that baby on your chest. There's nothing like it in the world. Nothing.

He officially made his entrance at 7:11, weighing 9lbs and 8 ounces, 21 inches long, and I think 15 inch head. He was so calm and relaxed, crying only enough to let us know he was ok. He took to nursing right away; I was amazed and how quickly he caught on. Richie let me have all the time I wanted with him on my chest, and then he took his turn snuggling our last baby.

As we switched rooms, Baby Davy got to meet one of his namesakes. Grandpa Garner came to visit. It was fun telling him that this baby bears his name. We had kept it under-wraps for the entire pregnancy, so it was fun to let him know, and soon after, to call my Mom and Dad and let my Dad know that Davy's middle name, Crosby, is in honor of him. Our last boy, named for both of our fathers. It just felt right.

Later that night, as I was trying to catch some sleep, they informed me that Davy's blood sugars were too low, and that he would have to be moved up to the primary children's wing for the night and put on an IV. Bummer. I didn't feel scared for him at all, I knew it was mostly a minor problem. I was mostly irritated that I would have to vacillate between the 2 floors now, and that we would inevitably be receiving a new bill now. That, and also that we'd have to stay longer in the hospital than we like to. On the IV, his blood sugar improved. The next day however, his IV fell out. They tried to put another one in his other hand, but failed. Rather than putting an IV in his head, they called the Dr. who said, "Let's just see how well he does without weaning him off, instead of dealing with another IV." For which I was grateful, but also anxious that his levels wouldn't improve enough and we'd have to stay longer. So I texted people and enlisted their prayers on Davy's behalf. The next morning, his levels still weren't exactly perfect, but our pediatrician is a little more relaxed than others. She gave us the O.K. to go home, and I was so grateful. I just wanted to be home with my babies!

Richie dropped Miles and Gwen off at their once a week school, brought Lindy and Benson to the hospital and picked up Davy and I and we were on our way by about 10:30 on Wednesday morning! More to come.