Last Friday, at 10:00 pm, I went into labor. My contractions started about 7-15 minutes apart, and weren't too painful. I did a lot of walking and waiting! At 2:30am they had increased to 4 minutes apart. I grabbed my hospital bag and my mom, left my son and husband fast asleep next to each other in bed, and left for the hospital. I was only dilated to a 3 1/2 and 50% effaced, so the nurse decided to watch me for an hour and then decide if they would keep me or send me home. Shortly after she left the room, my contractions got BAD and were coming every 2 minutes and lasting about 60 seconds. Only 30 minutes later, the nurse came back in announcing that with contractions like the ones I was having, there was no way I was going anywhere. She checked me again, and I was dilated to a 5. At that point, my mom went home to switch places with Devon. Only 10 minutes later, I was dilated to a 6. Since I was progressing that quickly, they ran to get the CRNA so I wouldn't run out of time to get my epidural. Right after the CRNA arrived, Devon walked in looking completely glassy-eyed and had an expression on his face that obviously read, "Couldn't this have waited until morning..."
After my epidural, I am feeling great. I don't feel my water break-but baby sister sure did! After my water broke, each contraction I had there after brought baby sister's heart rate down to a gut-wrenching 70-80! The nurses and OB had me turning all over the place trying to find a position that she liked. Only 5 minutes later, my OB sat next to me on the bed and said, "Nicole, (right at this moment I knew exactly what she was going to say) I know you wanted to avoid a C-Section at all costs, but we need to get baby out now." I completely tear up and loose all words and just nod my head. I was so afraid something was going to happen to my baby. Before I had time to even process what was going on, I was in the operating room being prepared to be cut open. And again, I completely loose it. It was freezing in the room, 5 in the morning and I had been awake for 24 hours now, I was scared to death that my baby was dying inside of me, and my husband was who knows where being scrubbed in for the surgery. I felt so RIDICULOUS lying there balling my eyes out with my OB, a surgeon, 2 nurses, and my CRNA all standing there getting prepped for the c-section. But I couldn't stop. My chest was heaving all the way to the ceiling. When Devon came in, I was able to calm down but couldn't stop shaking. I was so cold, not to mention the adrinaline pumping through me! They put heated blankets on every inch of my body that they could so only my belly and face where showing, and I was still violently shaking. I now understand the point of the staps on the operating table! After a bunch of pressure, pulling, tugging, and shaking, I heard my daughter's cry for the first time. My OB and Devon were both saying, "Nicole, she is beautiful," and all I could say is, "So she is alive? Is she okay?" The moments that followed are too private to share, but it was one of the greatest experiences of my life.
On Saturday August 15th, 2009 at 5:36 am, Ryan Christine Whiting was born strong and healthy 2 weeks early at 6 lbs 10 oz and 20 inches long. Her skin coloring is beautiful, and her hair is dark just like Paxon's was. I didn't know how I was going to share my motherly love for Paxon with our second child, but I found out right away that there is no sharing involved, my love just grew to encircle my daughter inside it. Thank you for her, Heavenly Father.
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Just a couple minutes old

A couple mintues older...

Devon and Ryan got to my Recovery room before I did
I was still being "put back together" in the OR

First time I got to hold Ryan

Ryan's first nap.
That is the beanie the hospital gave her

I STILL had not slept! Ryan is about 5 hours old, and I have been up for 27 hours!
It was the only time I literally faught with my eyelids to keep them open.
The white things on my legs I had to wear to keep my blood
circulating until I was able to walk on my own.

Tessa and Ryan

Ryan Christine Whiting