Ok, so you’ve all seen what happened from Megan’s perspective…the rational, rarely emotional, steady Megan. The woman who laughs at me as I cry at some commercials, books, most movies, thoughts, scenarios…you name it…I’ve probably had my eyes moisten momentarily or for long periods of time. Don’t even get me going on The Book Thief or A Light Between Oceans (books, not movies).
ANYWAYS…let me lay out the events that led up to the day, so you get a good idea of how the Lord had His hands on EVERYTHING that happened on September 1st.
Sister in Law, Monica, has some extra tickets for me to go to the last Vikings preseason game, most would say ho hum when it comes to a PRESEASON game, but it’s the new stadium! New food! and I get to grade all the rookies, undrafted free agents, and backup players the Vikings will throw out there! guys I’ve never heard of, and yes, I was actually excited for that. But alas, the worst thing for the Vikings happened, Teddy Bridgewater dislocates his knee the week before, and all my hopes and dreams for a super bowl run are dashed to pieces and my longing of going to watch the Vikings dissipates. Monica had two tickets for me and a buddy, as my buddy is as torn apart by Teddy being hurt, as I am, we decide, let’s not go to the game, we’re too depressed about what happened and lost interest, so I tell Monica on Wednesday (the day before D Day) sorry, but we’re gonna pass (I also hate to bail last minute, it’s something that’s a pet peeve of mine, so I hate doing it myself). Luckily Monica, who thinks I’m the greatest bro in law that is married to her sister EVER, has tons of patience with me and says no worries. Plus I figure, heck, I can just watch the game at home and still get my “scouting” in for who we’ll cut and keep and who looks good etc…
Cue Thursday, Sept 1. Long day at work, texting Megan occasionally as she sends me funny pictures of emery and other things happening at home. She tells me she’s been having some slight contractions, nothing to be serious about. My stomach starts getting into a small knot of fear and excitement…I’m not feeling fully ready for Everett too arrive, and so when she tells me the contractions aren’t bad at all, I feel a little relieved.
Get home, try to entertain Emery as Megan gets dinner ready, I’m thinking “she’s not ready to have a baby, she’s making dinner and walking around and such, we’re still a couple days away”
We eat, and play with Emery until her bedtime…during dinner and after, Megan has some more contractions, a little more serious than the ones she had during the day, but she was still eating dinner and chatting with me and Emery, so I wasn’t too worried, and I don’t think Megan was either. I volunteer to put Emery to bed, so Megan can just relax. I know, what a guy right? jk, I think megan asked me to put her to bed, so I obliged. As I give Emery a bath, brush her teeth, lather her in lotion (I don’t want her to ever suffer from dad’s unfortunate dry skin), dress her, read books with her and sing to her, in the back of my head I’m wondering if Megan is having anymore contractions and if they are getting harder or dissipating…When I finish singing I love you Lord to Emery, for the 4th time, I hear Megan start the bath water. So I walk into our room to see how Megan is doing and she tells me they are coming a little more often now (in the contraction timer, roughly 6 minutes apart, some 30 seconds long, others 45 seconds long, so not feeling rushed at all, still have a ways to go). Look at clock, it’s about 7:10 pm as Megan gets into the tub. Thinking she is fine and the tub will help with her relaxing and help calm her contractions, I ask “So…do you need me up here? Or Could I go throw the Vikings game on”? I know what you’re thinking, is this the same, doting, loving husband, who ALWAYS puts megan first, and always extremely willing to put sports on the back burner to spend time with his wife? well yeah, I had a moment of weakness, so lay off me! Megan says “well…maybe you should stay up here and time my contractions”…Sigh..”sounds good, I can do that babe”. Now please understand, I was not thinking things were gonna be progressing. I figured we’ll have a long night of 5-6 minute contractions like Emery, cause every birth is the same…right? RIGHT? So before you condemn me as a selfish husband who was trying to watch a completely meaningless game rather than time his wife’s contractions, I just didn’t think we were on our way to labor. ANYWAYS….
Contractions start coming heavier, but after each one, Megan says “it just doesn’t feel the same as Emery”, cue me trying to tell her “well, maybe they feel different with different pregnancies”? So I start texting our friends who are Doula’s and former delivery nurses an my sister who has had 3 children of her own…and all agreed that pregnancies are different and can have different feeling contractions etc… score a point for Jason. I hid my fist pump when I saw what they were saying.
7:45 rolls around, and Megan gets out of the tub. And it hits…HARD contraction. She yells my name (I’m standing 5 feet from her) and asks for help, so she holds onto me as she fights the contraction. She aint talking, she aint moving, and she is sounding like she is in a lot of pain. THIS contraction is WAY different than what she’s been having before. I get a little nervous, thinking, well…a few more of these and we’ll get going to the hospital I think.
Contraction ends, I help dry her off and boom, another contraction, in my head I’m thinking “holy crap, that was less than 2 minutes apart, and this one seems even worse than the last one, and megan sounds like it hurts worse than the last one”, hold her through it, and I go try to find something for her to put on. She lays on bed, Boom, another hard contraction, I call the Woodwinds Midwife hotline “I’ll have someone call ya back in 5-7 minutes” ok, but please hurry. She is now having contractions every 2 minutes and she isn’t being quiet…which means they are bad. Megan is honestly the toughest chick I’ve ever met when it comes to pain, after watching her completely dominate Emery’s birth, and deal with being sick like it aint no thang, I have come to these conclusions. Another conclusion: she’s WAY tougher than me. I get a sore throat and I can’t walk. I get a stuffy nose and I can’t move. Oh and I cry at almost every movie I watch….yeah…she’s WAY tougher than me.
The midwife calls back, I explain how things are going, it’s 8PM right now and she says “yeah…it sounds like you should head in soon” So I hang up with her, text mom and say “please come over right now, things are progressing and we need to get going to the hospital” Mom: “On my way, handsome, brave, sweet boy of mine” (maybe she didn’t say all that, but…she would have if she had time I’m sure).
Sidenote: look how much I’ve already written, and I’m not even to the good part yet…sorry :/
Get done texting mom, Megan says “I feel like I need to push” I say “UM NO, WHAT?? STOP”, what the heck, what are you thinking? Don’t push, it’s only me here right now. we still have to get to the hospital and get checked in and all that, push? Hold your horses, mommy. I decide we need to call 911, this is progressing WAY too fast and I don’t want something to start happening without help, megan literally tells me “I don’t think you have to call them” UM YES, I’m calling them you psycho person. Anyways, I call, Megan tells me again, as the lady answers the phone “I’m pushing Jason!”, so I tell the lady, I think my wife is in labor! You need to get someone here NOW, so she gets the info, the address and such, very calm, I’m feeling like I’m running around the room like a chicken with its head cut off, and I’m pretty sure I literally was. Boom, water breaks, “um ma’am, the water broke, where the heck is the ambulance” *granted this is probably 21 seconds after I started the call “they are on their way sir, but Idk how far out they are”….”GET THEM HERE NOW”
And here is the next part of the conversation, 911: ok sir, I’m going to walk you through delivering a baby Me: um, no, no you aren’t, where are they 911: they are on their way, but this baby might come, so please listen to me, get towels and a shoe string Me: what is a shoe string for? 911: the umbilical cord Me: WHERE ARE THE PEOPLE WHO ARE SUPPOSED TO DO THIS?????? 911: on there way sir. 911: ok, can you see the babies head? Me: no, of course I cant…..HOLY CRAP, yes! I seriously can see the babies head! it’s right there, I see it! 911: ok, I’m going to give you directions on how to deliver the baby Me: THE HEAD JUST POPPED OUT, I’M SERIOUS I SEE HIS HEAD, AND IT’S OUT 911: ok sir, feel the neck, make sure the cord isn’t wrapped around it Me: HUH? How the heck (I’m thinking how is this happening to me right now? what the heck, why me? I can’t handle this right now, holy cow)
At that moment, it was as if an angel from heaven shone down in our room and proclaimed “STILLWATER FIRE DEPARTMENT, MAY WE ENTER THE HOUSE”, I almost yelled, Lord? Is that YOU? but instead I say “Get the heck upstairs NOW please!!!!” and here they come, through the door, Mr. February, October and December….while they may not look like models, in my eyes, they were THE Greek gods of baby delivery…YES!!! they look medium stunned at the baby’s head just sticking out, Steve runs over, and assesses the situation, and tells megan to push (which she says she can’t, the woman who literally is birthing our child in our bedroom, the head already out, and megan is acting like this isn’t a big deal, CAN’T keep pushing, good one Megan, now’s not the time for silly jokes)….. she pushes, the baby turns and bam, he’s out! holy cow! i can NOT believe this is happening. They suck whatever needs to be sucked out, they wrap him up and lay him on mommy. I’m like…Megan! What!? We?? HUH?? You?! I? Everett! They! WOW!
So they are checking megan making sure she’s good, I remembered my mom is coming, and she’s gonna be TERRIFIED when she sees everything, so I literally ran from megan’s side, to the window to see if she had pulled up yet, back to Megan’s side, back to the window, back to her side probably a dozen times, each time telling Megan “I’ll be right back”. Too say I was on adrenaline would be putting it rather lightly. I was talking to all the firemen a million words a second, and looking at megan and asking if she’s ok, and then reminding her “the worst is over!!! sweet!!! now we can go to the hospital and chill!” (as she literally just did one of THE hardest things a human can do, YAY Megan, we can CHILL OUT now…WOW, nice Jason). I was holding Everett, looking him over, when I see his feet…wait a second, something seems off…OH NO!!! He has 9 toes! I count once, I count twice, I count three times, 9 TOES! Wait, let me count a fourth time. Phew…10 toes. We’re good here everyone…
Mom gets there, I run down to tell her everything is ok. and then tell her to stay downstairs as I run back up to make sure everything is ok upstairs.
Ambulance shows up a few minutes later, we cart megan to the hospital and the rest is history.
Start to finish, an hour tops…CRAZY!