Superbowl Sunday Surprise!

I am so glad that Aaron has been keeping everyone posted about little Justin's arrival! However, I was excited to get on here and share a more in-depth prospective of 'that night'. First of all, thank you honey for posting those really flattering photos of me right after delivery. I am glad all of our friends and family were able to see me at my finest. I know, I know, no one cares-but it's still a little embarrassing for me. Here are some more pictures of little Justin. As you can see he had a high speed come apart when we put him in his car seat to come home! Above are my wonderful nurse and savior in hard times, Catrina, encouraging me on.
Anyway, let's get back to that night....

It was 3 am and I awoke with a really bad stomach ache. I actually thought I had the flu because I was nauseous all day on Saturday and extremely tired. I really didn't think that I could possibly be going into labor because I didn't feel contractions off and on, but only constant pain that wouldn't let up. Besides, who goes into labor on Superbowl Sunday? Actually, I can answer that. It is only someone who's husband is OBSESSED with sports like mine. Anyway, I tried to get through it for a few hours before waking Aaron up, telling him I didn't feel good, and asking him if we should go to the hospital. He agreed, but if anything we thought it might be false labor. We called the doctor, grabbed our stuff, and headed across town. It was about 6 am by now. By the time we arrived my pain had become progressively worse and I couldn't really even walk. At this point I was thinking, either I really am in labor or I am dying. Either way, I was pretty certain the hospital is where I needed to be. They got me to a room, in a gown, hooked up to the machines, and checked things out. I was around 3 cm dilated, and they told me they would check me again in a few hours. I was told that if I was in labor I would continue dilating. After a few hours they checked me again and I was 6 cm dilated! The pain actually had ceased a little bit since arriving, and it was actually tolerable. I thought-hey, this isn't that bad actually. YEAH RIGHT. I walked the halls, rocked in the chair, and laid in bed to pass the time. Since I was officially in the early stages of labor, we called our parents and my mom and dad got on the road right away. I also called my other labor coach Catrina to tell her that we wouldn't make it to her house for the Superbowl, but that I needed her to get to the hospital. After Catrina arrived it was just a long wait. By this time it was 1:00 in the afternoon and I was ready to get the show on the road (since I had little pain now and was so sure this labor thing was going to be a breeze). My 'team' was equally as anxious and we spent from that time to late evening waiting for something to happen. At some point I had my epidural, which slowed things down a little bit. I thought he would never come!

It had now been about 21 hours since we arrived at the hospital and hard labor had now ensued. Lucky for me they turned my epidural down so I could 'feel to push'. It seemed like a dumb idea to me. The next few hours consisted of me 'bearing down' and feeling a lot (A LOT) of pressure. I remember looking at Aaron and Catrina several times in desperation-like if I got their permission I could stop pushing. My mom made it to the hospital just in time and she was keeping me cool with washcloths and helping to hold my head when I pushed. Everyone just kept yelling, 'one more time'! I was really starting to believe they were lying to me when he flew right out. He cried right away, which is what I was waiting to hear. It was 11:58 p.m.

It was the best feeling in the world. The pain and pressure were gone and there was our beautiful boy. We were overwhelmed with a million emotions. Aaron and I just stared at each other not believing what had just happened. What an amazing birthday.