Welcoming Luke Stanford Plessman

Luke Stanford Plessman

March 18th, 2017, 2:07 am

7 lbs 7.8 oz

20.5 inches

It was a wild, crazy week at our house last week, and I look back it now and just have to laugh. In all my speculations about how our second little boy's big arrival would unfold, I never thought it would happen quite how it did. It's going to take some telling, so bear with me as I record for posterity what was probably the craziest, most intense, awful, and yet absolutely most wonderful weekends of my life.

At my 40 week appointment, I was dilated to a 1 and 80% effaced. We tentatively schedued the induction for Sunday, March 20th (8 days past my due date). I was hopeful I would go into labor on my own (isn't everyone?), but I also accepted that it was going to happen however it was going to happen, and there wasn't much I could do to change it! Worrying certainly wasn't going to help. ;)  So I just told myself to trust that God knew exactly how it should be, and that however it went down would be for the best. 

My mom got into town on Monday night, two days after my due date. Tuesday morning, when we woke up, Jace had thrown up everywhere-his bedding, jammies, crib, and the carpet were covered in vomit. Poor baby. We put him in the tub and cleaned up, and he seemed pretty normal for the rest of the day, other than a decreased appetite. No fever, and he had lots of energy and spent the day playing with his toys and hanging out with me and Mimi. When bedtime rolled around, we got him completely ready for bed and decided he was probably ok to have a cup of milk, since he asked for it and hadn't shown any signs of being ill all day. He was sitting calmly on daddy's lap, snug as a bug, when without warning he heaved EVERYWHERE. We cleaned him (and Colt) up again, put him down, and the next day he was a little more fatigued, had a low-grade fever, and spent the day watching movies and taking it easy. However, he didn't throw up again, and by Thursday he was good as new! But Colt had been battling a cold all week, and my mom felt like she was fighting off a bug as well...I was a little nervous that I would have a newborn to take care of and three people to nurse back to health. My little post-partum army was falling apart before the partum was even post!

I was scheduled for a non-stress test on Thursday. They also performed a bio-physical ultrasound, and we got an amazing picture of baby's face. It was so clear, and it made me very excited to get this little guy here so I could meet him and kiss his cute cheeks. All the testing went really well, except they were unable to catch baby "practice-breathing." That's not uncommon, and all the nurses were surprised when the on-call doctor wanted me to come back again the next day, Friday, to do another non-stress test (I'm told this particular doctor is very cautious). I had my OBGYN appointment the next day as well, but luckily they were able to schedule the test right before my appointment next door, so I wouldn't have to come back twice. 

Colt decided to stay home Friday to get some extra rest and try to shake his cold before baby got here, so he was able to take me to my appointments while my mom stayed home with JJ. I didn't feel right all morning-I had no appetite, some nausea that came and went, and a couple other little things that made me wonder if today was the day, but I didn't want to get my hopes up too much, since JJ had a stomach bug earlier in the week. The non-stress test went well, baby was healthy and extremely content-no signs of imminent arrival from this guy! At the OBGYN appointment right after, 2:30 pm, they checked the baby on ultrasound and then looked to see if I had progressed since last week. I was a little under 90% effaced, but still just 1 cm dilated. I mentioned that I had been having some flu-like symptoms, and my doctor said they could potentially be a sign of labor, but that it might also just be JJ's stomach bug. My induction was officially scheduled for 6:00 pm on Sunday and he wished us luck! Colt and I got back in the car to head home, and by then I was starting to feel worse and worse. The light symptoms from this morning were getting worse, and I wasn't sure I would be able to make it home without getting sick. 

Sure enough, as we turned onto the back road ten minutes from our house, I rolled down the window and vomited several times all over the back door of the Corolla. Colt pulled over and I proceeded to have three more episodes before I was ready to continue on home. I felt some relief, but after going upstairs to take a bath and change clothes, I was ready to start all over again. I spent the afternoon literally heaving anything and everything I'd ingested that day right back up again. Even a sip of water was enough to send me running for the bathroom. In just a couple of hours, I had nothing left and was vomiting stomach acid. I honestly do not remember the last time I was that sick. Poor Colt, who had taken the day off to rest and recoup himself, spent the afternoon holding back my hair and rubbing my back while my mom took care of JJ. The worst part was that I now knew my earlier symptoms weren't labor, they were the flu. I was pretty disappointed, but even more nervous that this stomach bug would weaken me so much that I wouldn't be able to be induced on Sunday-I knew my body wouldn't be able to handle labor, especially an induced labor, when it was so depleted. And to top it all off, the Braxton Hicks that I'd been having all week were getting more frequent and and uncomfortable due to how dehydrated I'd become. I was so miserable. I crawled into bed and Colt turned on Father of the Bride, Part II for me. 

During the movie, we decided to see how frequently my Braxton Hicks were coming, just in case it meant I needed to go to the hospital for fluids. Between 5:30 and 8:00 pm, I had over 15 Braxton Hicks contractions that were really uncomfortable, though they were irregularly spaced. Colt thought it would be a good idea to call Labor and Delivery to check-in and see what they had to say, even though I didn't want to bother them with something dumb like Braxton Hicks. The nurse on the phone told Colt that a flu-bug will definitely cause Braxton Hicks to come more frequently and to become more intense, and to continue to watch them and try to drink some water. That conversation was around 7:00 pm. By 7:30 pm, I couldn't sit still or lay down through the contractions, and although I could talk through them, it was effortful. Standing up made them more bearable, but I had to bend over when they came. At this point, I was in tears. I couldn't believe how badly I was handling these Braxton Hicks, and I felt like such a wimp. With Jace, contractions hurt for sure, but I never cried. This time, I wasn't even in labor, and the pain was already putting me under the table. If I couldn't even handle a few stupid Braxton Hicks, how on earth was I going to survive actual labor when I was induced on Sunday?! 

I was a mess and sobbed to Colton that there was no way I was going to be able to deliver a baby on Sunday if I couldn't even manage to get through these dumb false contractions. I was sure I knew the difference between the two, because I had experienced both BH and true labor with JJ. Jace's labor started with period-like cramps that got increasingly more painful and regularly spaced. They were clearly different from the irregular tightening of my belly, which is what I had been experiencing all day (actually, all week) this time around. I knew they just hurt more now because I was so tired and dehydrated from the flu.  I decided to take a shower because my back was sore and I knew that moving around and changing positions can sometimes help alleviate BH, so I hopped in and was washing my hair when Colt came in, saw me crying and doubled over in pain, and told me he thought we should go to the hospital. I told him I didn't want to. The hospital is 40 minutes away, and I KNEW I was not in labor. These were Braxton Hicks, no question, and I didn't think I could handle a 40 minute ride there in so much discomfort, just to be told to go home again and face another painful ride home. He called Labor and Delivery anyways, and when he described what I was feeling, they suggested I come in to be checked because it sounded like it could be labor. I knew it wasn't, and part of me really didn't want to go...but part of me really did, because I figured they could at least give me some anti-nausea medicine and an IV so I felt better. 

My mom came upstairs to check in and see what the plan was, watched us as we scrambled around grabbing last minute items to pack up for the hospital, and followed us downstairs to the front porch. I doubled over with another contraction, and she put her hand on my back. Later, she told me at the point she was positive I was in labor, because my back was rock hard. I got in the car and she pulled Colt aside and told him to make sure I breathed through these contractions, because that's what they were, and to let her know when we got checked in at the hospital. We brought a big bowl with us in case I threw up on the way there, but luckily, the vomiting seemed to have been put on hold. I still felt vaguely nauseated, but the pain of the "Braxton Hicks" seemed to negate the need to throw up (plus my stomach was completely empty). I think my body just realized it had to pick: labor or the flu, but I couldn't do both! Thank goodness, it chose labor. ;) We left our house a little after 8:00 pm. Colt held my hand, sped whenever possible, and (carefully) ran a couple red lights all while reminding me to breathe whenever the contractions started. It was awful, but breathing was definitely more effective than crying, and the mindset that this really might be labor and not just my body's reaction to the flu was helpful in dealing with the pain as we made the trip to the hospital.

We got to the Pavilion at about 9:00 pm and I hobbled into the elevator clutching Colt's arm like an old lady. It must have been obvious that I was in a lot of pain because the security guards didn't say anything other than "We will let them know you're on your way up!" Another contraction hit as soon as we stepped into Triage and I couldn't walk. As soon as it passed, I leaned over onto the front desk and started to cry again. I was so nervous they were going to turn me away because I wasn't really in labor. Part of me knew that I was, but part of me was still afraid it wasn't real, and that all the throwing up earlier had just intensified what was actually false labor. The nurse we spoke with on the phone approached and asked the front desk lady if she could take me back right away. She told me not to worry, that it looked like I was definitely in labor. She took me back to check my progress, and I was at a 3. That made me feel better-I was afraid I would still be at a 1 like I was 6 hours earlier! Then she said something that struck fear into my flu-ish, panicky heart: she told me they don't admit until patients are at least a 4. I looked at her in absolute horror and begged her to please not send me home, the drive is 40 minutes, I can't go home...She told me that she would check me in just a few minutes, that she would make some calls, and make sure I got to stay since it was obvious I was so miserable, not just with contractions but with being so ill earlier as well. She was monitoring my contractions and told me she would get me some medicine to take the edge off the pain, as well as some anti-nausea medicine to give me some relief. I was managing some very small sips of water, but my lips and my mouth were chalk-dry. I was incredibly thirsty, but too scared to drink much at risk of throwing it all up again. 

I don't remember the exact order of how it all happened, but she did check me again and I was at a 3.5. Not quite enough to be admitted, but she made it happen and I was given anti-nausea medicine and some pain relief, which made everything SO much better. The medicine and knowledge that I was in labor and being admitted gave me a much needed physical and mental boost. Suddenly, I was able to breathe through the (still very painful) contractions, talk to Colton in between, and drink a little more water, even after the pain meds wore off. The on-call doctor came in to introduce herself and explain that because the baby had a few little drops in his heartbeat, likely due to how crummy I'd felt prior to starting labor, she wanted him to get here sooner rather than later. They were going to watch my natural labor progression, and in a few hours if I wasn't going as fast as she would like to see, they'd give me some Pitocin to speed things along and make sure he was out quickly. Sounded great to me! I didn't think I could handle a long labor anyways, since I hadn't eaten anything since 2:00 pm and barely had anything to drink. 

I was wheeled into my Labor and Delivery room at 10:30 pm, put on an IV of fluids in an attempt to re-hydrate me, and my epidural was in by 11:15 pm. The doctor came to check progress and I was at a 5, so she felt fine about holding off on the Pitocin and waiting until 3:00 am before checking again. With my pain managed and the anti-nausea medication doing it's blessed work, I started to relax and get excited about delivering my sweet boy.  Colt and I chatted with our lovely nurse, Kristin, then tried to get some sleep before I was ready to push. I'd heard and was hoping that my labor would be shorter the second time around, but I didn't want to assume it would be that way, just in case. We turned the lights off and shut our eyes, but just like last time, I didn't get much sleep.  At 1:25 am, I was half asleep and praying that everything would go smoothly, that baby and I would be safe and healthy, when all of a sudden...POP! I heard it, felt it, and saw it. The monitors on my belly jumped, the machines started beeping, and I felt the rush of liquid indicating that my water had broken. We called the nurse right away, who came in and confirmed that's exactly what happened. The doctor broke my water last time, so this was a whole new experience, and kind of a weird one that I wasn't expecting (even though they did tell me during my check that it was definitely a possibility, because they looked ready to go). Because I told her I could feel a little pressure and could tell when I was having a contraction, my nurse decided to check me early, at 1:50 am, even though the plan was to wait until 3:00 am. She checked, smiled at me, and asked if I wanted to try a "practice push," because I was ready to go! I was super happy but also surprised we were at that point already. I looked at Colt and asked him if he was ready. He was! My practice push was apparently too successful, because the nurse quickly told me to stop and not to push anymore, this baby was going to come out in 1 or 2 pushes and they needed the doctor in there first! She called Dr. Allwine, who was clearly shocked and excited I had progressed so quickly (I could hear her through the phone). The doctor arrived at 2:00 am, and we were ready to go!

Dr. Allwine told me to wait for a strong contraction, and to push when I felt the urge. I let them know when I was ready and as I started pushing, the Dr. quickly told me to slow down and try shorter, lighter pushes, because baby was coming out too quickly! And that's how, at 2:07 am, within one contraction and in under two minutes, my little Luke Stanford Plessman entered the world. Safe, healthy, and looking so tiny. They put him on my chest and he cried his little heart out...the heart that I'd just seen on an ultrasound 12 hours earlier. He was (and is) so perfectly beautiful. I noticed how fuzzy his little back, neck, and arms were, his long fingernails, his perfectly round and tiny head, and the adorable excess of wrinkles that (I'm hoping) will soon fill up with lots of baby chub. We knew right away his name wasn't Isaac, and both Colt and I still loved Luke. We took about 20 minutes, asking each other back and forth: "What do you think? Is he a Luke? Do you still like it? Does he look like a Luke?" He did. His middle name was always Stanford, ever since we found out he was a boy. It's my Grandpa Christensen's first name, though he always went by Dee. I've felt throughout the entire pregnancy that we always knew this one's name. There wasn't a lot of debate about it, although we both had other names we liked and considered...but Luke Stanford has always felt like his name. I think he and Grandpa were buddies up there. 

From first painful contraction to baby out, my labor was about 8.5 hours (Jace was 27 hours, 1.5 hrs  of pushing by comparison). It was such a blessing, because I really don't know if I would have held up well under a lengthy labor this time around. 

We aren't sure if the flu jump-started my labor, or if labor would have happened that day regardless of whether or not I was sick, or if it was never really the flu at all, but the start of labor...it's not important, I guess, but here is something kind of neat: My sister-in-law, Kristy, was due at the end of March. However, she was scheduled to be induced March 16th, because her baby was on track to be too big for her to deliver. But the 16th came and her induction had to be postponed because labor and delivery was too busy. The next day, St. Patrick's Day, her labor was again postponed...and I went into labor that afternoon/evening. I had Luke at 2:00 am, and Kristy was induced a few hours later in the wee hours of the morning, and had her baby, Corbin, that very afternoon! So Luke has a little cousin birthday-twinner. We joked about this happening but never thought it actually would. And if I hadn't gotten the flu, my labor might have started later or I may have had to be induced, and our little guys wouldn't have come down on the same cloud. Maybe they needed each other for moral support. 

I love my little Luke. He is so sweet and beautiful, I already can't imagine our family without him. He looks so much like JJ's newborn pictures, but with slight, almost deliberate, differences here and there. He also looks very much like his handsome daddy. His name means "Light giving," and he has brought the sweetest light into our home.

 I'm so grateful for all my boys. I can't believe I have two kids, two amazing little boys. I feel more blessed than I can say. I'm so happy, and so tired, and SO HAPPY (and did I mention, so tired?). Heavenly Father has given me so much, and I hope I can live up to the trust he's put in me and love and raise and these boys like the precious gifts that they are.