I just cared that he was born alive and healthy.

One week ago yesterday, little Gunner Jonathan Christensen came into the world on 9/9/13 at 7 pounds 19 inches long at 1:21pm via C-section. It was one of the best moments in our lives and we are truly blessed and I am finally to the point in my healing plus trying to figure this “mom of two boys “out (OMG I am a mom of TWO boys!!) to take a moment and write his birth story.

Cody and I… Well mostly I had plans to try and deliver Gunner as a natural (no epidural) VBAC (vaginal after C-section.) I wanted the experience. That moment that when your baby comes out and all you hear his is cry and you can’t help but cry yourself because you just birthed that thing and man was it tuff but you did it. That empowerment, that moment that no one could take from you because you did it, you survive it, you brought a human into the world naturally like they did in the old days and man was it all worth it.

But I didn't get that. Just like I didn't get it with Wyatt.

And the truth is I knew that I wouldn't, I knew weeks before Gunner arrived. I knew what day he was coming and around what time because we had to have it planned and the day we sat in my doctors office and he told us that we needed to plan for a c-section… I was a little relieved until I left his office.

My dream of being that woman who triumph and deliver a baby out of my own vagina was gone. Well possibly gone. We had to planned it because my uterus and cervix was not working properly. Was not doing well, anything. And the more we waited the more of a chance that Gunner would suffer. Every weekly appointment he was moving less and less and growing bigger and bigger and yet my body was doing nothing to help him come. It literally was not doing a damn thing. Every pre labour contraction I had did nothing but make me miserable and Gunner stressed. My doctor sat in front of Cody and I and explained all this and told us that he would give us until my due date the 7th and if not we had to choose a date and a time that next week to welcome our baby into the world. So we did and we kept it a secret.

I was determined to get this baby out before or on my due date because I wanted my dream of a VBAC. Then Sunday night (the 8th. A day passed by due date and a night before the schedule c-section) I started to have contractions. Real ones, but I knew that we already had an appointment to be at the hospital at 11am the next day so I tried to sleep through them which was hard and didn't happen but I waited as long as I could.

Cody finished up some ordering he had to do at work that morning while I dropped Wyatt off at my mom’s with his overnight bag and a huge kiss and wish him a “Happy big brother day.” and then we were off… to have a baby.

We get there at the hospital, check in, hooked up and saw the amount of contractions I was having so we tired. We tried to go the way I wanted. We tired to go naturally. So from 11am until 1ish I tired to have my baby the way I wanted.

But that dream again ended because with every contractions Gunner did not have a heart beat and if he did it was barely there. Just like Wyatt. So they told me, we can wait, we can try, we can do it how you want but as you can see and hear it will end up as an emergency C-section instead of a planned out one.

What do you want?

I wanted a healthy ALIVE baby. So at 1pm they suited Cody and I up in the hospital gear and we walked (well I rolled) into the surgery room and they cut me open and I had a baby.

It took them a while to get little Gunner out. They had to suction cup his cute little bottom (which is bruised now.) and cut me open wider (which hurts like hell still) to finally get him to come but when they did and they pulled him out he cried hard and so did I. I had my baby finally. My second son. The little pistol who had been tormenting me for 9 months and at that moment I didn't care that I had him via C-section. I just cared that he was born alive and healthy.