The Buzz on Bumblebee Pt. 1

A LOT has happened in my life over the last few months.  I haven't blogged as much about it as I had hoped I would.  And there is no way to play catch up.  So I'm just gonna do a quick review and then dive into where we are today.

About 8 1/2ish months ago I discovered that Andrew and I were parents...I was pregnant!  Andrew was thrilled, I was scared to death. Ha ha.

Life has been crazy ever since.  I quickly discovered that pregnancy is not my cup of tea.  I kind of hated it to be blunt.  And I had a relatively easy pregnancy so I really had no right to complain.  But I just hated not feeling like I had control of my own body.  I hated being sick all the time.  I hated not being able to work out or run.

Don't get me wrong.  There were some really cool parts.  The first time I felt him move.  The day we found out he was indeed a he.  Feeling him kick and squirm.  Yeah,  I did kinda love that part of it.  To be honest, I kind of regret spending so much time hating being pregnant.   I wish I had chosen to enjoy it more.

When Andrew and I found out we were pregnant we knew it was going to be a big deal for our families.  This was a first grand baby.  (Although my sister beat me by 2 1/2 months, my parents still feel like they got a 2-for-1 bargain...they got TWO first grand-babies at the same time.)  He was also a first great-grand baby for Andrew's grandparents (a first great-grandson for Charlie's mom).  That being said...everyone wants to know everything about him.

So we decided that we wanted to keep something about him just for us.  His name.  We knew we had to call him something so we chose a nickname: Bumblebee.  We had chosen his real name right before we found out he was a boy.  But to the world he would be Bumblebee until birth.

Bumblebee was actually Andrew's idea, but I had kind of thought about it too, so when he brought it up I knew it was meant to be.  We started out calling him "Baby Bancroft".  That got shortened to "Baby B".  And every time I heard someone say "Baby B", I would think "Baby Bee", then that Baby Bumblebee song would pop into my head.  ( You know the one: "I"m bringing home a baby bumblebee...")  Andrew had a similar line of thought, so the nickname stuck.

As the awe of discovering parenthood began to settle in we realized we needed to make a permanent commitment to buying a home.  We had been renting since we got married and had talked about buying a house "someday" off and on for the last year.  But we never really got serious about it.  Then we realized our apartment wasn't big enough for a 3rd Bancroft.  And the more we looked at bigger apartments and houses to rent, the more we realized the rent was pretty comparable to a mortgage.  It was time to bite the bullet and commit to finding our first home.

As we looked at houses and compared wants versus needs we just couldn't seem to find what we were looking for.  And we had a deadline.  Bumblebee was due in early January and we wanted to be moved before I was too far into pregnancy so that it didn't wear me out.  Eventually we talked to friends who had built in a new housing addition.  Andrew decided we should talk to the contractor and see if this could be a good fit for us.  In June, we signed a contract to start building our home.  By September we were ready to move in.

We actually moved in later in September because the mortgage company had the wrong closing date listed and didn't finish their part on time.  So that put us moving in right as I was getting very busy with "work".  I volunteer my time to a girls' ministry called Individually Designed Ministries (aka I.D. Ministries) and we were busy getting ready for a huge conference in November.  I was in charge of registration.

We got moved in around mid-September, Converge Conference happened in early November, and then the holidays came.  And so did Bumblebee.

From the very beginning I was convinced that my little boy would be a Christmas baby.  I just had this gut feeling that he would arrive just after Christmas.  Turns out I was right (sort of).  So while the doctor estimated a due date of January 14th, 2013, I kept thinking he would come late December 2012.  Silas Allen Bancroft was born at 12:06am on December 31, 2012.

Let me back up and tell you how we got there.

On December 11th I woke up not feeling quite right.  I'd been having some cramping and what I assumed were Braxton Hicks all weekend.  When I went to the restroom that morning I noticed some spotting, enough that I worried.

After much debating, I texted Nikki Lokey and asked her advice.  This is usually what happens when I know what I should do but want someone to tell me anyway.  She's pretty great at that. A phone call to my doctor was in order.

I hesitated calling my doctor because I knew that the nurse would probably tell me to go ahead and drive up to the hospital to get checked.  This would mean telling Andrew.  It would also mean a long drive to Norman with a nervous Daddy/Hubby worrying himself over his little family for what was probably nothing.  I really didn't want to be the cause of that.

After a short conversation with the nurse, it was settled.  I would need to go get checked out just to make sure everything was normal.  It most likely was, but erring on the side of caution is never frowned upon in pregnancy.

I told Andrew what was going on and of course he went into worry mode.  My hubby loves me and this baby.  A LOT.

At the hospital, the RN decided to check me and see if I should  stay for observation.  I had begun to dilate ( I was at a 1) and I was having some back labor along with the Braxton Hicks.  I was also dehydrated.  So the RN decided she would have me stay for a couple hours and just monitor me.  After a couple hours (and a GIANT jug of water) my contractions had subsided and I was less dehydrated.  She checked me again and I had dilated slightly more but not enough to classify more than still at a 1.  So home we went.

Over the next week I started paying closer attention to my contractions.  I noticed they had picked up slightly but were still totally normal for the stage of pregnancy I was in.  On December 18th I had another doctor appointment.  This appointment would confirm what we were beginning to expect.

As Dr. Anderson checked me she very quickly discovered that Bumblebee was already quite low and getting ready for his arrival.  She also discovered that I was already dilated to a 3.  I will never forget the look of surprise on her face as she checked me or the sheer panic on my husbands when she gasped.  I couldn't help but laugh right there.

After both doctor and husband regained their composure, Dr. Anderson announced that she was fairly confident in predicting that Bumblebee would be arriving well before our scheduled induction date of January 9th.  In fact, she predicted a New Year's baby.  I'd say she was pretty accurate.

Over the next week, I just continued to feel more "blah" for lack of a better term.  My contractions were still pretty steady.  Some days I hurt and some days I didn't.  We had another appointment the Friday after Christmas.  This time we sat down with our RN, Penny, and just went through questions we had, listened to baby's heartbeat, etc.  Dr. Anderson had left strict instructions that I was not to be checked...she was concerned that it would send me into labor.

As we talked with Penny she could tell that I was very uncomfortable that day.  She asked me about my contractions and how I was feeling.  She even gave me a pep talk and shared some of her pregnancy experiences.  Penny also advised us that if my contractions began to become more steady at 3-5 minutes apart then she wanted us to go ahead and go to the hospital.  She suspected with the way things were already progressing that labor wouldn't be a long ordeal for me.  And since we were driving from Ardmore to Norman to deliver, why take chances?

Saturday, January 29th my contractions began to be a bit more intense.  They had hurt this bad before but never for as long.  So I started timing contractions again.  8-10 minutes.  6-7 minutes.  5-6 minutes...steadily 5-6 minutes.  It wasn't 3-5 minutes...but it was 5...should I go?  Should I wait?  I didn't feel like I was about to go into labor...I just felt incredibly uncomfortable...and now I was anxious.

I  decided to tell my husband that I thought we might need to go to Norman soon.  We spent the rest of the day debating back and forth about what we should do.  Andrew got so anxious that he started creating charts and data flow sheets in Excel based on my contractions.  You read that right.  He spent hours "collecting data" and analyzing it.  It kept him calm.  I love that we have the charts to show his son some day.  I can't wait for him to see the tangible evidence of how badly his Daddy wanted him to be here.

We ended up deciding to wait out the night and see if the contractions continued to stay 5 minutes apart.  I didn't sleep well.  I was in some pain, uncomfortable, and anxious.  I prayed a lot that night.

The next morning was Sunday.  We got up, got dressed, and went to church.  By the time we arrived at church I was feeling even more "blah".  I sought Nikki Lokey out and asked her what she thought.  My contractions hadn't sped up but they were definitely still 5 minutes apart consistently.  I was also feeling worse and worse.  We both agreed that the worst that could happen was I go to the hospital, get checked, and they send me home.  But what if it was time to have a baby?  Did I really want to take a chance on waiting too long?  That settled it.  I pulled Andrew aside and we made a plan to go to Norman after church and just get me checked out.

Our plans got a little derailed after church.  Andrew's grandparents wanted to take us to lunch.  We weren't sure how to decline without letting slip that we thought I might be heading into labor...and what if I wasn't??  We didn't want them worrying or trying to drive up to the hospital for a false alarm, so we accepted their invitation and prayed that I could make it through lunch.  It was the longest meal I have ever sat through.

When we were leaving and had gotten into our car I looked at Andrew and said..."Yeah...let's go to Norman.  Now."  I wasn't feeling good at all.  I still wasn't sure that they wouldn't send us back home, but I also knew that if I had dilated more, then this could be a worthwhile trip.

So we went home, packed the car up as if we planned to stay at the hospital that night and headed up to Norman.  Neither of us knew what to expect.  We were both plenty nervous.  And we both had one thought trumpeting through our minds:  Will we have a baby tonight??

*Story will be continued in next blog post.  Stay tuned!