the story of Tucker's arrival...

Saturday morning, September 20th began very early for me. At around 4:30 or so I woke to the feeling of some cramping and remembered feeling that way the day I went into labor with Dylan. I figured there would be a pretty long day ahead of us if I was truly beginning my labor, so I turned over and tried to fall back asleep for at least another hour or two. I dozed a little bit, but got up to use the bathroom and was followed by a wide-awake toddler. Dylan decided he no longer needed to sleep any more that morning so I brought him downstairs while my contractions seemed to be coming somewhat consistently.


Since I figured I would have a long, tiring day ahead of me, I decided to start it with a bowl of cereal and a glass of water. Judging from my last labor, I knew I would be needing all the hydration and energy I could get. After just a few bites of my cereal, however, I could not bear to eat any more. My contractions seemed to be getting stronger by the minute and I figured they were getting a little more regular as well. It was time to take a shower so that I could look nice for my new baby pictures. My goal was to shower, take some time to do my hair nicely, put on some makeup...all the things that would contribute to a nice family picture soon after baby Gib #2 was born. My time in the shower dictated something very different. There were many moments while the hot water poured over me when I doubled over with strong contractions. The rushes were getting even stronger at this point--less than 2 hours after I had first woke with my initial contractions.


Meanwhile, Jon called our good friend, Gayle, who generously offered to take Dylan for the time I went into labor. Gayle showed up at our home shortly after Jon reached her and during the time I was in the shower, she brought him to her home to spend the day with her. We were so thankful to know that Dylan was in some wonderful, loving hands for the time we were going to be welcoming his little brother or sister into the world.


Jon asked if I thought he should start timing my contractions while I was in the shower and I told him I didn't think so--it was too soon! Afterall, my labor with Dylan was so long and I just knew we were in for a long day. I didn't want to make any phone calls or go to the hospital too soon. I had heard too many stories of women who planned natural childbirth but ended up having interventions after going to the hospital not very long after contractions began. I was determined not to be in that situation.


Moments after all those thoughts swirled around in my head, I told Jon that he had better start the timing. To my shock, the contractions were lasting over a minute and they were about a minute and a half apart. It was time to call the doctor...even though I still wasn't convinced that I should be going to the hospital just yet. Jon spoke with the doctor who then wanted to speak to me. After answering a couple of his questions, I became frustrated as another contraction began and told him to talk to my husband in a rather abrupt way. He first asked Jon how far we live from the hospital and then simply said, "You better bring her in."


My plans of doing my hair, putting on my makeup, and putting on some clothes that actually matched didn't matter at all to me by this time. My hair was wet, I had no makeup on and I don't even know what I was wearing when I arrived at the hospital. Upon arrival, a woman in the ER came out with a wheelchair because she could see that I was struggling to even get out of the car as my contractions were now one right on top of another. It was about 7:00 a.m. when we arrived (just 2 1/2 hours since my first contractions). As I was raced up to the labor and delivery floor and into the triage room, the nurses were debating whether to just admit me or to check me to see if I was really in labor. This was annoying, to say the least. Finally, one made the executive decision to admit me without first putting me on a fetal monitor and checking my progress. I was wheeled into the L & D room a little after 7:00.


Some of the next events did not make me happy. I had an external fetal monitor strapped to my belly to check on baby's heart rate. My contractions and heart rate were being monitored. A nurse was asking me questions and putting papers in front of me that I had to sign. My cervix was checked. I had an IV started in my arm. All this while contractions were incredibly strong and coming one right after another. I hated this. I also hated the fact that I was, as reported by a nurse, only 3-4 cm dilated. This was terrible news. This was exactly where I got "stuck" with Dylan for many, many hours before I finally gave the doctor permission to break my water. Just like I thought--we were in for a long day. To make matters worse, my contractions were incredibly painful, although I was determined to make it through each one knowing that each one would ultimately bring me closer to meeting my new child. I also learned that it is positively awful to be tied down to a bed while going through active labor. I had requested a birth ball which I was not "allowed" to use. It sat on the floor within my eyesight--what a tease. That had, afterall, been my saving grace during my labor with Dylan. But my nurses would not allow me to move freely until they could get a good reading of the baby's heart rate and mine. Apparently, mine was a bit high (I was in active labor! What is my body supposed to do?) and there was a time when baby's was a bit low. At one point, I felt the strongest contraction I had felt yet and all of a sudden, I felt the gush people talk about when their water breaks on its own. That's exactly what happened and I was at least glad to know that my labor was progressing in some way. A nurse checked and my cervix was now open to 6 cm. In my head, I calculated an hour per centimeter so I figured we could have a baby in just four hours. Not too long after that thought, I didn't think I could make it through the contractions for four more hours. I thought I needed an epidural...even though I knew I didn't really want it. The nurses then asked and helped me to lay on my left side. I didn't know it at the time, but the baby's heart rate had dropped quite low. And it wasn't long after that when I felt the baby moving the right direction which caused some intense pressure and made me begin pushing. A nurse decided she better check my cervix again even though it wasn't long ago that my water broke and I measured at 6 cm. To her shock (and mine) the baby was on the way (which explains the incredible pressure I was feeling)! She encouraged me to breathe short breaths to keep from pushing when that's all my body was telling me to do. Another nurse called out for my doctor who arrived in time to catch the baby after just a couple short pushes.


This new little life was lifted onto my belly and I was once again privileged to announce to everyone in the room that it was a boy! That was a thrilling moment. Tucker Samuel Gibson was born at 8:31 on the morning of September 20th. He weighed 7 lb, 12 oz and was 20 1/2 inches long.


There's something so exhilarating about my natural childbirths that is utterly unexplainable--even when not everything always goes the way I imagine it will. Once the baby is born and in my arms, all pain literally melts away and all awareness is centered on the new life. A renewed energy allows immediate bonding to take place and life is never the same. We thank God for allowing us the privilege of bringing another little boy into our world and into our lives.