Anderson Ford

I had myself convinced that I would have him early. After all, his sister had come 10 days before her expected arrival date. Anderson was due on the 30th of December...which was the absolute perfect date. I would get to enjoy Christmas, sans baby, and we would get that tax write off, because there was NO way he was coming after that. He was going to come early, remember?

So when the end of the year came, and then went, with still no signs of a baby, I started to lose my mind. I had never gotten uncomfortable with Wren. I had loved every moment of my pregnancy with her, right up until the end. With Anderson? I would have paid anything to just get him out. But the days continued to pass, and he still stubbornly refused to come. At that point, I thought that I was going to be pregnant forever. But in the early morning hours of January 3rd, I woke up with uncomfortable cramps, and couldn’t get back to sleep. I had been cramping here and there for weeks, so I didn’t get my hopes up, but as those cramps became contractions, I pulled out my phone and started to time them. They weren’t consistent, so I mentally prepared myself to be disappointed. But, by four in the morning, they started to get uncomfortable, and so I got out of bed and started walking around my room to see if I could get things moving. At that point, Graham had woken up and he started to time the contractions with me. I debated going outside and walking our neighborhood, but by 5:00 am, I knew things were happening, and Graham called in to work. He hopped in the shower, and I collected our last minute items and packed them up. By 6:00 am, the contractions had become consistent and were five minutes apart. I knew that it was time to go, and so we headed downstairs. Thankfully, Graham’s sister and her husband are living with us, so we gave them the heads up, and left Wren blissfully sleeping in her room.

I have been through labor before, and thought that I remembered what labor felt like, and to a certain extent I did. But I think your brain must intentionally dull those memories, because man oh man, I did NOT remember contractions being that painful. By the time we had gotten everything loaded, and by “we,” I mean “Graham,” my contractions had gotten pretty unbearable, and I remember one hitting me right as we were getting into the car. I kind of crumpled to the ground, with my hand on the door, and couldn’t stop the tears. Graham had to open the door for me, and physically insert me into the car. Dramatic, I know, but those things HURT. As we drove to the hospital, I realized that I hadn’t eaten anything, and the box of crackers in my hospital bag were not going to cut it, so we stopped at 7-eleven and picked up a granola bar, a banana, and some energy drinks for Graham.

We got to the hospital by 7:00 am, right as the shift was changing, and they took me straight back to triage to assess my progress. Perhaps the funniest moment of that process was when Graham followed me back to triage to drop my bags off. The nurse informed him that he needed to go back to the front desk to check me in, and Graham nodded, but continued to walk to the room with us. The nurse turned to him and with voice raised repeated, “Dad! You NEED to go to the front desk and check Mom in!” Graham just stared at her blankly for a moment, and with barely concealed annoyance responded, “I’m aware. I’m trying to set these bags down so I can get her insurance card out.” I had to turn away so the nurse didn’t see me laugh. It takes a lot to get Graham legitimately riled up, so to see him barely holding it together was pretty funny. The nurse realized how out of line she had been, so she spent the rest of our triage experience trying to crack jokes with Graham. He wasn’t very amused.

Anyways, back to the story! The nurse checked me, concluded that I was dilated to a four, and although my water hadn’t broken, I was definitely in active labor. Things moved right along from that point. They asked me if I would like an epidural (duh!), and got me situated in my room. I had tested GBS positive and asked to get started on my antibiotics immediately. I knew that I needed to get two rounds in before Anderson was born, or else I would have to stay in the hospital for 48 hours so they could monitor him. They got all of my IV’s in, and we were in business. By this point, it was about 8:30 am and my contractions had become VERY intense. My labors move quickly, and I was feeling it! My mom arrived (Graham had called her right after we had gotten to the hospital), with a breakfast burrito in hand (Graham’s request), and I continued to breathe through my contractions. After what seemed like forever (even five minutes feels like an eternity when you’re in labor), the anesthesiologist came storming in and informed us that he had five minutes to get my epidural going. He needed to get to another patient who was getting prepped for an emergency C-section, so time was short. As such, he didn’t wait for me to be in the middle of a contraction when he inserted the needle (which is what they did when I had Wren), so I FELT it. Graham told me afterwards that it felt like I was going to break his hand because I squeezed it so hard, but that thing HURT. I had made it pretty far (dilated to a seven), and my nurses told me that at that rate, I probably could have made it to the end without an epidural, but I didn’t want to. This girl does NOT handle pain well, and an epidural is the greatest invention on the planet. I have gotten lucky with both of my epidurals. With both Wren and Anderson, I was able to feel my contractions. I knew when to push, and didn’t experience the absolute numbness that some women do. There was pain, but it was manageable and productive.

After the epidural set in, things calmed down a bit, and I was able to chat with my nurse, and swap jokes with Graham and my mom. But things did not stay calm for long. As I said earlier, my labors move quickly, and by 11:00, I was feeling like I needed to push. The nurse checked me again, and I was at a 9. My water still hadn’t broken, but she said it was “bulging” and would probably break with my first push. She called my doctor, and told her delivery was imminent. My contractions had become pretty painful again, and I was breathing through them at that point. I kept moving from side to side because the urge to push was becoming unbearable. The nurse was trying to hold me off as long as possible so that I could finish my round of antibiotics. They’re supposed to take four hours, and it had only been three and a half. The nurse basically pushed the last of my antibiotics in as quickly as she could, and I was ready to go. My doctor arrived soon after, and pushing commenced. With Wren, I had pushed for almost an hour. Anderson decided to make my life much easier. As my nurse had predicted, my water broke on the first push. By the second push, the doctor was telling me what color his hair was (blonde), and by the third push, he was out.

Anderson Ford Russell was born just before noon on Wednesday, January 3rd. My first response as the doctor held him up was, “he’s huge!” and he most definitely was. Mr. Anderson weighed a whopping 8lbs. 15oz. and measured 22 inches long. My second comment, as they placed him on my chest was, “he looks just like Wren!” and while he has his own look, he definitely resembles his sister.

Life has been a blur since Anderson arrived. A tired blur. But a joyful one. He is the SWEETEST little man imaginable. His Dad and I like to say that you can look into his eyes and just feel his sweetness. He looks back at you with such adoration, it's humbling. He's close to being the "perfect" baby (if such a thing exists), but his HATRED of sleep keeps him from achieving that lofty title. We're so grateful for our little Anderson and love him more than we thought imaginable. It is SO true that love is infinite.