Michael Logan

Yesterday my baby boy turned 7 years old! I cannot believe that time has flown by so quickly.

We made him his favorite dinner, and let him open some gamecube games just from us, and he was HAPPY! He and Brian spent a good hour or so playing video games last night after Stephen and Mackenzie had fallen asleep. (He's super good about getting up in the mornings, thankfully)

I know he's 7, but to me, he will just always be this cute little chubby faced boy that I love soo soo soooo much. He's absolutely precious. He's one of the most caring, concerned, friendly, compassionate little guys that I know, and I am sooo glad that God gave him to us! He's also pretty hilarious, so there is never a dull moment around here!

(imagine the austin powers flashback sequence here:)

I had a doctor's appointment with my regular obgyn the morning of October 12. I told her that I had been having a LOT of contractions, pretty painful ones at that (since I hadn't really experienced that much pain with stephen), and I asked if she would just go ahead and check to see if I was dialated. Well, Dr. Hobgood had this method...of not checking ANY woman til 40 weeks. yeah. According to their due date for Logan, October 25, I was still almost 2 wks early...so, she wouldn't do the exam, and I left the office pretty ticked off. I just KNEW that he was about to pop out. With all the contractions and pain and consistency, of course there were other medical clues too, but I won't go into those...HA!..anyway, I was mad. So, We made the uncomfortable trip all the way back to Dayton to wait it out. I actually did start feeling better towards the afternoon, so Brian and I went to some discount clothing place ( think Marshalls or TJMaxx etc) and I got a dark green terry cloth robe. It was sooo soft and snuggly. When we returned home that night, around 8:30, We watched a little tv with Stephen, and decided it was bedtime. After I carried Stephen upstairs to put him to bed, some serious labor pains hit me, and I called my mom!

She told me that I should prolly just go ahead to Erlanger, since this was the 2nd baby, they can come quicker, blah blah blah. So, Brian gathered my bags, and he called his mom to come and watch Stephen. It was around 1:30 when she got to our apartment, and by that time, I was in hyperventilate mode.LOL. After a quick trip to the bathroom with no avail...we were off to Chattanooga.

So, we sped to the hospital, stopping once for a police car that was blue lighting us, to tell him we were having a baby, and arrived there at around 3:00a.m. When some nurses saw Brian dragging me across the parking lot, they decided to bring me a wheelchair and send me up to the 5th floor. (the big L and D)

I arrived in triage up there, and they immediately checked me out...and to my surprise, I was already dialated to 9cm!! I saw the nurse's face when she said this, and I'm not sure who was shocked more, me or her!

So, at this point, they move me to the "birthing suite", no I.V. started, no monitors around my tummy (okay..the monitor thing was totally my fault, and had they kept trying to put them around me during contractions someone, actually one nurse in particular, would have been lying beside me in a hospital bed, cause I was really angry at her) anyway, into the "suite", and there was nothing "suite" about it.

I, being totally and completely panicked about the pain and lack of pain relieving meds, asked the nurse (more like begged) Michelle (sweet nurse!) when I could have an epidural. She told me that they could not do an epidural until they had done some sort of bloodwork, which they had not yet. So, I'm thinking, Okay..I'm at 9cm, I have some time. They'll do my bloodwork and rush an anesthesiologist/tech up here with the epidural. So, I ask Michelle if I can have demoral....or ANYTHING basically...and she breaks the news to me: "It is too late for Narcotics. They will not have a chance to even get into your system before you deliver" uh....Whaaaaaaaaa?

Yeah, all I kept thinking was There is no way I can have this baby with no medication at all....God, help me!

During these few moments, which seem like hours, the doctor has arrived, put on scrubs, and is pulling her cart over towards me. It wasn't Dr. Hobgood, thank goodness, cause she might have been hurt as well. I was still mad at her for not checking me earlier in the day.

Oh, btw, Brian has just called his mom and my mom to say that we arrived at the hospital and I am at 9cm.

So, the doctor turns to me, and tells me that if I feel like I need to push, to push. I am a little confused by this, so she explains to me: If you feel like you have to go to the bathroom really badly, then PUSH. Push through the pain...ugh...

OOOoooooh yeah, that whole bathroom thing. Sidenote: Could have actually had Logan at home on the toilet...yikes.

So, I get my breath, and simultaneously, the doctor turns around to grab her huge crochet hook thingy to break my water, she turns around to face me, and I push. I push hard! and then it happened....

My water breaks, and I don't just mean it breaks, I mean explodes. Explodes all over the doctor, everywhere. You know, all you can really do at that point, as the doctor is wiping the "water" off of her face, is say "oh my gosh, I'm so sorry". I mean, there's really nothing more you can do...you want to be totally mortified and put a pillowcase over your head, but the pain is just too distracting. And, after that first push, I did feel a little relieved, so..I figured, maybe there really is something to this "pushing thing". After Michelle tells me, " Honey, dont apologize! PUSH!" I muster up enough breath for another one, and there he was. Little Logan.

He looked so tiny to me. He was 7lbs and 4 oz. 20 inches. And the poor little guy had bruises on his baby face and nose from shooting out of the canon so quick. He was definately not waiting...He wanted to be out and about. The bruises are what I call "foreshadowing" for his future. Ironically enough, he IS the most accident proned kid that I have ever met. And why do most of his accidents happen? Exactly...because he won't slow down. He just wants to go fast like Ricky Bobby.

And that's how he has been since the moment he entered this world.

And my life is so much sweeter because my little speedracer is in it.

I love you Logan (Loggin, Logee, Wogee, Log, Wogan, pumpkin)

Happy Birthday Baby boy.

I will post a slideshow of him and put his little poem up tomorrow when I have a chance!