Has it been 7 weeks?!

I can't believe Ammon is 7 weeks old, and I'm just getting around to blogging his story! Time flies when you're having fun--or a meltdown--or something like that. I guess I'll start at the very beginning (a very good place to start)...

March 24th, 2007 began with lots of excitement and anticipation. We woke up early, packed up the girls, took lots of "this is the last time I will ever be pregnant" pictures, dropped the girls off at Jon & Dawn's, and headed for the hospital. We signed in, I changed into my cute little robe, and we took one last picture before they started hooking me up to all sorts of stuff. (Looking at that picture now, I have the most blissfully ignorant "I'm going to have a baby in a couple of hours" look on my face. I had noooooo idea what I was in for.)

Once they hooked me up, and started my pitocin, I decided to take a little nap (so I would be well-rested for my 5 minutes of pushing--or so I thought). After my little nap, my hips were super achy, and I was starting to feel my contractions, so in came every pregnant woman's best friend--the anesthesiologist. I wanted my drugs, and I wanted them fast! She pulled out her trusty needle and proceeded to stick me (the only time I don't mind being stuck). As she turned on the epidural, my ears started ringing, I felt light-headed, and my hands and feet started tingling. (This should have been my sign of things to come.) She had nicked a blood vessel, so she had to remove everything, move up, and start over. Not fun, but well-worth it (or so I thought). Ahhhh...that felt better! Drugs, drugs, drugs...keep 'em comin'! At that point I assumed the rest would be downhill.

At 3pm, the doctor came in to check me, and I immediately knew that something was wrong. She went from please & thank you's to barking orders at everyone in the room. People started running around as she calmly, but quickly, explained to me that the umbilical cord had slipped down below the baby's head (a prolapsed cord), and we had no option but to do an emergency C-section to get the baby out. All of the sudden, it seemed like a hundred people were in the room. The nurse tilted my bed back until I was almost upside down, as my doctor tried to keep the baby's head from pinching the cord. Another nurse ran in the room and said the OR was ready for us. The room went silent as my doctor told her we wouldn't need it. Everyone turned and looked at her as she explained she had reduced the cord (pushed it back behind the baby). Her superior officer said, "What do you mean, you reduced the cord?" She explained herself once more as the baby's heart rate returned to normal. People were still just standing there, staring, until she assured them everything was fine. At this point I lost it, and the tears started to flow. Justin asked her if she had ever done that before and she said she had never even heard of that before. He then asked what made her try it, and she said, "I don't know. I just thought I could do it." Little did she know that Justin had given me a blessing that morning in which he blessed our doctor that her "hands would be guided". Well her hands were definitely guided to do something that she had not only never done before, but had never heard of before. Justin later told me that it truly is unheard of to reduce a prolapsed cord. Normally, the mom is put under and they have that baby out within 2 minutes. We feel very blessed to have avoided such an emergent and potentially dangerous situation. The thought that something could have happened to my baby boy is what caused me to break down. After that, I couldn't take my eyes off the baby monitor. I needed to know that he was okay.

Once the drama of that stinkin' cord had passed, it was still a couple more hours before game time. At about 5pm I started pushing--fully expecting to see his little face within the next 10 minutes (as I did with all 3 girls). Well, once again, I learned how foolish it is to assume anything--especially in childbirth. This little guy was definitely trying to make his mark...and he did. I'll spare you the gory (and possibly embarrassing) details, but after 2 long hours of pushing, Ammon finally made his appearance! The little stinker was facing up instead of down--hence, the 2 long hours. My doctor turned him 5 times (he kept flippin' back over) before she decided to physically hold him facedown as she delivered him. One word--OUCH!!! And the icing on my childbirth cake was that my epidural was completely worn off for the last 30-40 min. of those 2 long hours. Let's say it one more time--OUCH!!! Okay, just one more time--OUCH!!!

At the end of the day, despite all the craziness, we were extremely grateful that things turned out the way they did. Ammon came out perfect! Even with all that pushing, he had a perfect, round little head. He was 8 lb. 7 oz., 19 in. long, and super, super cute! It took us a couple of days to decide on a name, but we settled on Ammon Earl the morning we left the hospital.

So here we are, 7 weeks later, and Ammon is gorgeous! He was 10 lb. and 22 in. at his 2 week check-up, and is steadily growing. He's already wearing his 3-6 mo. clothes--we're worried he's going to pass up Eden here pretty soon. I have to say, I think I have a major crush on this little guy. Maybe it's because he's probably our last, so I'm trying to soak it all in, but I just can't seem to get enough of him!

Well, if you've made it to the end of this novel, you must really be my friend. If you just skipped to the end, you're a cheater--and cheaters never prosper (unless you used the time it would have taken you to read this blog to do something productive...then maybe cheaters do prosper...)

The bottom line: I survived childbirth, I never have to do it again, and Ammon is gorgeous! Did I mention Ammon's gorgeous? Yep, he's gorgeous!

I'm in the process of adding a bunch of pictures to my "It's A Boy" album, so check it out!