Welcome to the World, Charlie!

First off, I just want to say how grateful I am for the prayers, love, and support you have blessed us with over the course of this pregnancy. We have such wonderful friends and family that we are so thankful for. We cannot wait for Charlie to meet all of you!

The last pregnant photo of me. EVER!

Updating my Facebook status before leaving for the hospital. You know, only the essentials.

We have our little boy! I am in love. He is just so precious and soft and good smelling. He is his sisters made over: Madeline's nose and Fiona's eyes and mouth. Here is the executive summary:

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  His name is Charlie David Martinez (Yes, it's Charlie, not Charles)


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  He was born on Tuesday, January 20th at 8:51 am (just 9 minutes before Obama took the oath of office)


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  He weighed 7 lbs. 2 oz. and was 20-inches long. He is my first one to break the 7 lb. mark

Here is the more detailed, but I promise not graphic or gross blow by blow:

This first part is pretty boring, but I feel I have to record it so that little C-man can know what his birth was like.

First of all, NINE HOURS. What!?!?!?!?!? What kind of third child takes 9 hours of labor to be born. I honestly did not expect it to take nearly that long. My water broke at about 10 pm on Monday night, so we called Rhonda to get on the road to come watch the girls, called the Dr. to let him know we were coming, and called Kim (THANK YOU!) to come sit with the girls, who were already in bed, until Rhonda and Elizabeth arrived. Oh, I shouldn't forget that Pat had to finish his game of Mario Kart and I had to take a shower, straighten my hair and update my Facebook status before we left. Priorities.

We arrived at the hospital and got settled in only to find out that there was really no progress as far as the baby coming. I was having mild, irregular contractions. We decided to walk the halls to get things going. My Dr. wanted to start petocin if I wasn't in active labor by 4am, but we really wanted an unmedicated birth. The nurses seemed a little skeptical, about this, and I was nervous that not much seemed to be happening fast enough. But, then my contractions started to get closer together and a little more intense. I decided to try and get some rest, since we had been up since 6:30 that morning, and to let Daddo get some rest too. Pat read to me out of the Psalms and held my hand. Then, we tried to sleep a little.During this time, I remember constantly looking at the monitor to see how high my contractions were peaking, and being disappointed that they were only about 2/3 up the chart (even though I know that doesn't really mean much). At about 3:30, I figured it was time to kick it into high gear. We walked around for a little longer and then my contractions got pretty intense, so we got out the birth ball. I sat and rocked and relaxed between contractions. I was still able to breathe through the contractions, and it really seemd to help for Pat to kneel on the floor in front of me and let me press all of my weight into him. The uncertainty of it all was really kind of nerve wracking, because I had no idea how much longer it would be, or if I had made any progress at all. Because my water had already broken, the nurse didn't really want to examine me because it poses a risk of infection. When the shift changed at 7 am, she finally did the first internal exam since I had checked in. Well, guess what? Still nothing. The baby had not descended at all, so she couldn't even tell if I had dilated or effaced. I was starting to have really intense contractions about 1 -2 minutes apart by this time, and I felt like this baby was never going to be born.

Now, it starts getting good.

The new nurse, Jude, took over and said that if I really wanted an unmedicated birth, she would support me 100%. She was not kidding. She had to get me into bed to monitor the baby for a bit and check my vitals, at which point I started feeling like I couldn't do this without an epidural. In fact, I think it was about this point when I told Pat, "This is not happening; I need an epidural." This is also the point at which I started to lose control a little bit. For the past 7 1/2 hours, I had been very proud of myself for maintaining control and working thorugh the pain without behaving like a mental patient. Things were changing though. The nurse told me to slow my breathing down and not blow so hard because I might give myself a sore throat or hyperventillate. Poor Patrick had to watch me go through all of this, and all he could really do was talk me through and be my bracing post during contractions. I know it was really difficult for him, but, as usual, he did just an awesome job of supporting me and taking care of me. He did have to suffer through some moderate abuse, as I remember doing and saying the following:

• "I love you, but I hate you and I'm going to kill you."
• "YOU DON't TOUCH ME!" followed by slapping away his hands and trying to get out of bed and leave.
• Around 8am: "You don't understand. Why don't you listen to me: GET THE ANESTHESIOLOGIST!"

I also knew that I had to be in transition by now, which means the baby is almost here. But, I also felt like it was just going to get much worse and was going to last a really long time. Patrick kept trying to talk logical sense to me about what was happening and the epidural. He said the following things which were totally true and were things I needed to hear:

• "These long, hard contractions are a good thing. Those are the ones that are really pushing the baby out and getting you closer to seeing him."
• "This is going to be hard no matter what. An epidural is also not going to help you with the hardest part (the pushing)."
• "It will probably take about 2 1/2 hours to get you monitored and prepped, get the Dr. here, and get your epidural in."
• By the way, Jude was also interjecting with, "Dr. Tan (the delivery doc) will be here to check you in an hour or two; let's just stick to your original plan."

Now, I just felt like he and the nurse were lying to me and hated me. I knew he was right, but I started whining and crying and asking why it was going to take so long and I just felt horrible. I was exhausted, scared, and in pain. A LOT of pain. I told him I didn't care how long it would take, let's just start getting ready. The nurse got me into bed and decided to do a quick check. HELLO! 8cm and 80% effaced. Whoo Hoo!

Now, I felt like I could do this. It still hurt like I was being sawed in half, but I got back on to the birth ball and breathed through the contractions as best as I could, all the while using Patrick to push and lean on until the pain subsided. Suddenly, I felt the urge to push. I told Pat and the nurse and they got me back into bed to get the baby on the heart monitor. The room filled up with people and equipment. Jude was outside the room rather impatiently asking where Dr. Tan was. Lots of people were doing lots of things, and I was trying not to lose my mind or push too soon.

Dr. Tan FINALLY got there and said I could push with the next contraction. I did, and the pain was unbelievable. She checked me out and said that I still had a little cervix that needed to thin out. Ok, what the heck does that mean? The nurses and Pat were telling me it meant I had to hold off on pushing for a few more contractions, but it all sounded like Chinese to me. I kept asking someone to explain to me what was happening and how much longer it would be. I think I also tried to get up and leave again. Pat and the nurses had to hold me down. I mentally lost it a couple of times and started to scream and say crazy stuff like, "I'm going to die; I promise," and "Can't you just cut him out of me." I was serious, too. There was one nurse there, Sharon, who was able to talk sense into me and calm me down, so I just focused on her and tried to listen to and do everything she said. I remember her telling me not to talk, just blow out the candle. Blow. Blow. Slower. Slower. That for some reason helped bring me out of my psychosis abd back to reality.

Dr. Tan checked me again and said to push with the next contraction. Patrick and the nurses helped me to bear down and push. Twice and his head was out. He was all tangled up in his cord. Dr. Tan had to remove it from around his neck. One more push and he was completely out. Still all wrapped up in his cord like a monkey on a vine, but out of me. I thanked the Lord that it was all over! I finally got to meet my little man. I achieved my goal of an unmedicated birth, but not without the help of my fabulous husband, the teaching of Robin Gruver, and the support of the dedicate nursing staff.

The rest is standard hospital stuff. I've rambled on long enough. Here are the pictures.

Daddo cuts the cord

Mommy and Charlie's first portrait. How much do you think People magazine would pay for this?

Baby Charlie gets checked out

Out of Labor and Delivery: Mommy and Charlie

Maddie and Fi meet their baby brother. You have to imagine a lot of high pitched, "Heee's so cu-yute!" and "Hi Baybee Chawee."

The Martinez Family Completed

Madeline was very sweetly concerned for me. She asked, "How are you feelin' Mama? Much better now that the baby's out?"

Aunt Dondie and Aunt Bebess with Baby Charlie

Fiona is happy to see her Mama

Daddo, Baby Charlie, and Mama

Baby Charlie hangs out with us and watches replays of the inaguration and documentaries on past Presidents. Pretty much the only thing on.

And, we sleep.

We are now home and doing great. We will try to keep you updated with all of the awesome things this new little guys is blessing our lives with.