Have I got a cache memory for you!  Shortly after the baby boy’s birth I requested that people help to give him a blog name.  Did you catch the announcement on the Facebook page where his name was chosen???  Well, in case you missed it… The name that was randomly selected…

Drum roll please…

Baby Cache!

I took the liberty of changing the suggested name’s spelling from “Cash” to “Cache”.  Mainly because I thought it would be fitting being that this is a blog, on the computer, and his birth was so very memorable.  Get it?  Cache memory?  Ha ha!  I know.  I crack myself up sometimes.  And it’s totally fine if I’m the only one laughing.  That happens a lot.

So now is the time for the dandy introduction of:

Cache

And here is why his birth was just so memorable.

The Story of Cache

Let’s go back to the night of Super Bowl XLVIII… February 2, 2014.  I was 38 weeks and tired of being pregnant.  So very tired.  Just a couple days prior I had been to the doctor and was given the news that I was nowhere near having a baby.  Like probably weeks out.  I know.  Devastating news for a mom wanting to deliver stat.  My body hurt.  My back hurt.  I basically hurt all over.  You get the idea.  So there I was trying to enjoy the Super Bowl food…  Yes, I like the Super Bowl most of all not for the game itself or the commercials, but for the food.  No lie.  I spend weeks planning out the menu of snack food items.  So you’d think that this year would have been a pregnant gals delight.  No sir.  This was not so.  I was sick to my stomach.  (The entire pregnancy was spent with bouts of nausea because of the progesterone injections I received weekly to prevent pre term labor.)  I had the worst lower back pain.  I barely ate anything.  I went to sleep that night feeling sick, slightly hungry, and defeated.  All at the same time.

I awoke on Monday, February 3rd at 5:45 AM to the sound of my husband’s alarm clock.  He headed to the basement to get his workout in for the day and I headed to the bathroom before crawling back into bed.  As I got back into bed I felt a very strange sensation.  Was that a contraction?  I really didn’t know.  With Banjo I was induced at 37 weeks due to pregnancy induced hypertension and immediately given an epidural.  Ruby came at 36 weeks with the only sign of her arrival being that I started bleeding.  At 6 cm I wasn’t feeling anything.  Nothing.  No contractions.  I didn’t want to go without an epidural so I got it at that point.  I can honestly say that after birthing 2 children I still had no idea what a contraction felt like.  Until now.  In the early morning hours of February 3rd.

After getting back into bed I had another one and another.  It was painful.  Enough so that the thought of going down two flights of stairs to the basement didn’t appeal to me.  I fumbled for my cell phone on my nightstand and called Audi’s cell phone.  Silently praying that I wouldn’t hear it ring from his nightstand.  Fortunately he answered.  He assured me that we needed to see first if this was really what it was.  Told me to just try to rest and fall back asleep.  This was at 6 AM.  I called him again just before 6:10 AM to report that I had TWO of those tightening sensations since we had last spoke.  Remembering that my doctor had said something about heading to the hospital when the contractions were 5 minutes apart… I started to become a little bit frantic.  Audi assured me over the phone that it had been way longer than 5 minutes.  After that conversation ended I decided to watch my alarm clock.  I watched as my alarm clock arrived at 6:14 AM and another sharp pain occurred.

How could this be?  I only felt the first sign of these “contractions” at 5:45 AM.  Maybe it was something else?  I called Audi again and told him that we needed to leave for the hospital.  Like STAT.  Of course I had to take a quick shower first.  Why not?  Every pregnant lady takes a shower before heading to the hospital, right?  I had TWO huge contractions while in the shower.  Yes, I knew then that these were indeed contractions.  Nothing else could possibly feel like that!  I quickly got out of the shower, brushed my teeth, and threw on some clothes.  There was no time to fix my hair or do my makeup.  It’s totally overrated anyway, right?

At 6:30 AM I called my sister-in-law to come and sit with our older kids.  No answer.  I then called my brother.  No answer.  It felt like that hilarious moment on ‘Who Wants  To Be A Millionaire’ when the contestant uses the “Phone A Friend” lifeline and only hears an eternal ring.  Yeah.  Only this was so very far from hilarious.  I called my sister-in-law again and got voicemail.  I called my mom who lives a hour away (she answered).  I called my brother again and got voicemail.  At this point I was beyond frantic.  I think the anxiety of the situation we were in was out of control.  I was screaming.  I was in major pain. This was not part of any birth plan.  This was not good.

Audi and I decided that we would have to take the older kids with us to the hospital.  Lovely, right?  He started getting them awake and dressed while I was paralyzed in fear.  Then my brother called.  Hallelujah!  He was on his way to work, but was turning around to head in our direction.  I think my mom had called him, too.

We will forever know that we left our house for the hospital just after 7:16 AM.  Why do we know this?  Because my brother’s warning ticket for SPEEDING was documented as being that time.  Yes, you heard that right.  A police officer followed my brother into our neighborhood and pulled him over right in front of our house!  Audi had to tell the kids to sit tight in front of the television while we left for the hospital.  He then had to tell the officer to please move his squad car from blocking OUR DRIVEWAY so we could leave.  Not sure why that needed to be explained to the officer, but whatevs.  On second thought… I still need to write that official complaint letter to the Police Chief for the fact that our older children had to stay in the house all alone while my brother was getting his “written warning” from Officer Gray.  Oh and that Officer Gray didn’t ask how I was or even offer to call an ambulance or give us a police escort.  Oh and Audi came this close to delivering our baby in the car, on the freeway.  Wait… I’m getting ahead of myself…

So off we were to the hospital.  In morning RUSH. HOUR. TRAFFIC.  Yeah.  That police escort was sounding really good right about then.  Oh and Mr. Officer Gray?  It’s probably a good idea to remember that next time a labor crazed woman is screaming at you from the top of her driveway (Oh did I leave that part out?  Yeah, that happened.) to move your squad car you probably shouldn’t be worried about continuing to write that written warning.  You move the squad car and then go with the kid’s uncle into the house and then finish writing that warning slip of paper.  Just FYI.  For next time you find yourself in this type of situation.  Otherwise that labor crazed woman just might write about you on her blog.

The entire way to the hospital I kept screaming for Audi to drive on the shoulder, call an ambulance, drive faster, take the next exit, run the red lights.  You know.  All that jazz that a labor crazed woman yells at her husband.  We (Audi and I) experienced it all.  The contractions were unbearable.  Several times along the way I felt the need to push and I did.  Pushed.  I couldn’t help it.  My body was not my own.  It belonged to the baby inside of me.  He was ready to be born.

Everything was in slow motion.  I was drenched in sweat.  I was shaking.  I was in transition.  We arrived at the hospital.  Audi parked the car in the hospital garage.  We walked to and entered the elevator.  I leaned into the elevator wall with another contraction.  We exited the elevator and Audi grabbed a wheelchair for me to sit down in.  He ran for the next elevator banks.  Yelling to those getting on the elevator to hold the doors.  We went up.  The doors opened at the L&D registration desk.  I yelled that I need to PUSH.  A nurse grabbed the wheelchair and rushed me towards the back.  We are going to room 11 she yelled.  Another nurse yelled no.  Not that room.  We took a hard left.

I found myself in a room full of nurses.  Audi was pulled out to the hallway to talk with the registration clerk.  Seriously?  Couldn’t that have waited?  Two nurses stood me up from the wheelchair, one pulled off my pants, one stood at the foot of the bed, and two were at the warmer.  When the two on either side got me up on the bed I heard the nurse at the foot of the bed say, “The baby’s head is out!”  At this point I knew what that meant.  My worst fear (way worse than the clown fear) was coming true.  I was going to have this baby WITHOUT an epidural.

The nurses yelled for Audi to get back in the room.  I closed my eyes tight.  The next second and our baby was born.  There wasn’t a doctor in the room.  The nurses did amazing.  When the house doctor came in she found a baby boy lying on the bed waiting for her to cut the cord.  Registration clocked our arrival at 7:45 AM and our son entered the world at 7:50 AM.  According to the nurses the registration time was off, because it hadn’t taken them 5 minutes to get me to a delivery room.  They estimated our son’s arrival as being 2-3 minutes after we exited the elevator.  There was no time for monitors or an IV.  It was that fast and so close to being in the car.  Here I am with my baby.  The only picture I have of him and I when he was born.

I have no shame.  In this day of deletable photos and camera phones most women get a very endearingly, precious photo seconds after giving birth.  I, however, get a Kodak film age shot from a camera phone.  Yep.  The husband only took ONE picture!  At least it’s a testament to just how fast everything happened.  Hooded SIUE sweatshirt… No time to gown me up!

My recovery was amazing.  Fast recovery just like the delivery.  Since I didn’t have an epidural I could get up and walk around immediately after.  It was awesome.  I think I would actually do it that way again.  Just minus the parts getting us up to the point of the natural delivery. *wink*   Cache was the perfect newborn.  A real dream.  He is the most perfect baby.  We are all in love.

As I write this I can’t help but think of tomorrow.  I’m anxious about our trip into the hospital in the morning.  It’s like deja vu.  Because it is.  Kind of.  Our baby is going into the OR for a laryngoscopy and bronchoscopy at St. Louis Children’s hospital.  He has 7 visible hemangiomas and there is concern that he has one growing in his airway.  I have faith that all will go well.  It’s not in my hands and I have to accept that.  Our baby is followed by one of the best team of doctors in the country.  They will take care of him.  They will have Heavenly Father’s hands guiding them.

One thing is for sure… Officer Gray better not cross paths with me at 6 AM tomorrow when I’m picking up the babysitter to watch our older two.