Parker's Birth

Last year around this time, I was officially 9 months pregnant with our sixth child. It's not a typo. I wrote sixth. My husband and I are anticipating this birth with bated breath - me literally because I can no longer breathe deeply chasing 5 other children around whilst carrying a butterball in my uterus. I estimate that the birth will occur in September despite an early October due date simply because I am desperately trying to will the baby out of me. So the weeks pass and no baby.
Forrest, my husband, wants the baby to come in October. Why? "Because then we'd have consecutive months of birthdays." You see our other 5 children were born in November, December, January and two in February. I should have held the 5th one in until March - I'm sure my husband would've requested it -if it had been less than 48 hours away.
It is NEVER a good idea to request that a woman deliver later than she anticipates. There is never a reason to aggravate a woman who is heavy with child. Yet he thinks it is funny to do so.
At 11:50 pm on September 30th I looked over at my husband and sneered, "I guess you've got your wish. - Hope you're happy." Then with a grin on his face, replied - "Yeah, but he'll probably decide to come on Wednesday night at about 9 o'clock."
Wednesday, October 4th 2006 9pm - the US season premiere of LOST.
For those of you who have never seen "LOST", you will think I am certifiable. For my fellow "Losties", you will completely 'get it'.

"Sssshhhhhh___ he'll hear you!" I hissed at him while covering my fetal girth with my arms trying to shield where I think the baby's ears are.
"The baby needs to come well before Wednesday or labor can start at 10:01pm on Wednesday."
By sheer will, once again, I am determined to control Mother Nature.
Later that week on Wednesday Oct. 4th, at my midwife appointment, I decide to try
a few things to "get the ball rolling" so to speak. It usually takes a few days, so what's the harm? I head home about 5pm, sit in rush hour traffic and go home to have dinner.
My mother in law who was helping out, leaves at 7:30pm and says she'll be "on call" because I was having a few contractions. Anyone who has had children knows that you can contract for days or even weeks before "it's time". I have a history of labor starting and stopping for days on end. But when it's time – IT'S TIME and things go very quickly. There is a tell tale sign that the baby is coming. I throw up. Usually at 8-9 centimeters I get sick and then start to push. This happened in the car with our 4th child, so no one likes to take chances with me. I brush her comment off and settle down for some good TV.
An hour later, Forrest and I are gearing up for the premiere and this is how the conversation went.
Him: "You want a snack?"
Me: "No, I'm not that hungry"
Him: "Are you sure? not even popcorn?"(which is a staple in my diet)
Me: "No, I don't feel like eating anything right now."
Him: "Are you OK?" (obviously this is not normal behavior.)
Me: "I'm OK, just a little crampy."
Him: "Well let me know if you want me to start timing" (contractions)
Me: "It's alright, he can't come now." I look down at my belly, wag my finger at the neonate inside and tell him in my sternest 'mama' voice – "no coming out now!!"
And of course, we know how well that usually works.
So the "LOST" premiere starts and I am really distracted from the oncoming rhythmic cramps I'm having. So much so that I need to stand up to alleviate them. Then I move onto sideways lunges looking like a sumo wrestler ready to pounce on his adversary.
This starts to make my husband nervous.
Him: "How far apart are they coming?"
Me: "I don't know, 2-3 minutes?"
Him: "2-3 Minutes??! Maria, that's close!"
Me: "I know, but they're really not intense or anything, I can barely feel them."
Him: "I'm timing them" he says as he gets up during a commercial break.
Me: "Go ahead – maybe you should, but we can wait till 10pm."
Him: "You're crazy"
At about 9:25pm, Forrest starts to time the contractions himself. He asks me to let him know when one stops and another begins.
After being quiet for a minute, he asks – "is that one over?"
Me: "Yep"
Him: "Did another one start?"
Me: "Yep"
Him: "Maria! That was 90 seconds! We're leaving!!"
Me: "We can wait till 10 – I don't want to miss this!"
Him: "We...can...tape...it" He spoke so deliberately as if he were speaking to an uncooperative child. At the time, that's exactly how I was acting. You have to understand – I love "LOST" I didn't want to be out of the loop for even 24 hours. I knew I'd be home shortly after giving birth, but the demands of a newborn can really interrupt a good TV show.
My husband scrambles for the phone to call his mom who is only down the street and gets my bag.
I am making sure that the cereal is out and the kids lunches are ready for tomorrow morning. I start to whine.
Me: "He's [the baby] just getting back at me because I wanted to name him 'Sawyer' – he's got something against 'LOST'".
Him: "Yeah, hon, I'm sure that's it. Besides, I would not let you name him 'Sawyer'."
Me: "You'll let me do whatever I want after I push his body out of mine!!!
Him: "OK, let's just get in the car, alright?"
The trip to the birth center is at least 30 minutes with no traffic. It's now just about 10pm and we head into town. Thankfully there is no traffic (because everyone else is home watching LOST) and we arrive at 10:25pm. I did ask Forrest to run a few red lights because labor got intense on the car trip in.
I threw up at 10:27pm.
He was a tough one, and wasn't born for an hour later at 11:32pm. Forrest said to me right after he was born "And you wanted to wait till 10 to leave!"
"What? We would of made it...."