March 15th started like any other Sunday. We got up. We got ready. We went to church. We stopped by the bishop's offices and talked to Brother Hovenier about blessing the baby in the States when we go visit. While we were waiting, I felt pressure and squatted in the hallway trying to find relief. Being so soon after church, it was probably about 11:45am. We chatted for a few minutes and then called a cab.

On the way home, I had some other contractions.  I've never experienced Braxton Hicks, so I thought maybe that's what was going on.  Except one hurt really bad.  Like I had to grab the seat of the cab, bad.

We got home and I went straight to bed to see if resting would help the contractions subside. It didn't. I googled early labor and how to stop early labor. Google told me that if contractions came within 10 minutes of each other, it was probably early labor and you should call your doctor. I wanted some lunch, so Matt made me a grilled cheese. During this time, I had 3 contractions with 10 minutes or less between them, so I called Dra. Brocker. She told me she wasn't near and to rest to see if they would go away. (Yes, I had just told her I had been doing that... There is still a language barrier, even though she speaks English.) She told me ultimately I had to decide if I wanted to go into a clinic. I hung up feeling like it was a useless conversation. Matt came in and I told him when I was finished with my sandwich, I wanted to go in, so he needed to pick a clinic.

Matt called a cab and we tried to get Henlie ready. She had been watching George on Netflix for not that long and did not want to stop. I was freaking out. After all, I was only 28 weeks. There was begging and praying. We got to the clinic (Clínica Ricardo Palma) and had to enter the ER from the back because they were doing some construction. They had me sit while Matt got us checked in. At some point, I figured we'd be having the baby that day, although I still hoped they'd be able to stop labor or at least give me a steroid shot to help Lil Dude's lungs. The only way I could deal with the pain was to push some, so by golly, I did.

By the time they got me back and checked me, I was a 10, so they wheeled me right up to Labor and Delivery. Matt had to stay outside because he had Henlie. No one spoke English. As if the situation wasn't scary enough, right? Try doing it in another language. Not fun.

They broke my water, and it was glorious. There was nothing for the contractions to push against so there was no more pain. A nurse checked me and found I had placenta previa, or the placenta was presenting first. I learned later that Dr. Quispe (the doctor there that day, and thus my default new OB, which I'm okay with. I like him better than Dra. Brocker, even though he only knows a little English.) wanted to still try a vaginal delivery because sometimes the baby and the placenta can come out together.  However, his arm was in the way. Oh, and I started bleeding. 

Want to know what happens when you start bleeding? The poor nurse gets to shove two fingers up there and push hard to try to stop the bleeding. Not exactly the most comfortable thing in the world. They started to prep me for a C-section. Fortunately, the OR was next door. Guess what? Matt still had Henlie, so he couldn't go in. Guess what? No one spoke English still. Terrifying.

I remember thinking, "No, I don't want a C-section." Of course, I had deduced I was bleeding and therefore probably needed one. It was a quick turnaround between C-section resistance and resignation. Then my thoughts just turned to my baby, hoping that he would be alright.

As they prepped, I could see a little in the reflection off of the light. Then they put the drape up. I thought, "I want to see! Wait, maybe I don't?" The anesthesiologist asked me (in English) if I'd eaten. I said yes, then I got drugs in an IV I don't remember having placed. And then I was out. I know scheduled C-sections don't use general anesthesia, but I was very glad I was completely out. I don't think I could have handled being awake. Of course, if it had been scheduled and not emergency, that would maybe be different.

I woke up later in a recovery room. Matt was able to come in for a minute. Our friends from the ward who actually live near us had taken Henlie for us. I don't recall if he gave me an update then or later when I was in my room. Anyway, I felt like they rushed him out, and I went back to sleep. I awoke at 6:30pm when Dr. Quispe came to check on me. I was unsuccessful at going back to sleep after that. Instead, I watched the hours tick by on the clock and tried to communicate. I asked for Matt, but he was no longer there. Between Google Translate on the nurse's computer and the husband of the woman who ended up next to me, we got a little communication done. Pretty sure I was an emotional wreck. I know I cried. I couldn't speak. I was all alone and I had no idea how long I'd be staying there.

They did finally transfer me up to my room, where I was greeted by Matt, César and Carmela Hooker (Matt's old mission president and his wife. We have adopted them as our Peruvian family, or they adopted us? whichever :)), their son Aaron, and Lee Engle from our ward. It was so nice to see so many people there to support us. I think it was like 9pm or something by the time I got to my room. I asked Lee and César if they'd help give me a blessing, which they did. We visited for a bit. Matt checked on Henlie, and she was asleep at the Tidwell's. They said she could stay for the night, but Christina was getting her mid-pregnancy ultrasound the next morning, so we had to pick her up by like 7am. Carmela offered to get Matt to pick Henlie up. Everyone left and I updated Facebook ;)

Matt had posted a few updates to let people know what was happening. We were kept pretty busy the first 24 hours or so checking all of the new comments and seeing the FB likes pour in. We received so much love, support, and prayers from everyone back home and here.

Matt had taken one picture, and that was all I had been able to see, which sucked. Matt informed me they had to start him breathing, but other than that, he was doing pretty well and was stable. 

So, March 15, 2015, we welcomed Lil Dude into the world. He weighed 2 lbs. 15 oz. and was 15.75 in. long with an APGAR of 5, 7. His measurements put him at 30 weeks, so that is what the clinic figured his gestational age at. He was born at 2:50pm. (For those who kept track, that's 3 hours from the very start of labor to his delivery in the OR. Henlie was fast, but not that fast.)