Lets start with a bit of backstory-

Being that this is number 2, I was under the impression that I had the whole pregnancy thing down pact. I. was. SO. wrong.  This whole pregnancy was spades different from Squish.  She was the epitome of an easy pregnancy. Only mild nausea for like a week, no aches or pains, only went to the potty a few times a night.  Wonderful.
But this guy, this guy had it out for me from conception.  First of all, I knew I was pregnant a week after it happened.  This is too early for a pregnancy test to detect, you need at least 9 days past your ovulation date, I knew at 5. No lie.  He was already cramping my style.  So, after actually getting a + on a test, things spiraled out of control quickly. LOL. The first tri was all about nausea, and eating.  If I went longer than 5 minutes without eating, I was super sick.  I never actually threw up, which was fine by me, but sitting around at work GREEN all day was still pretty awful.  Once we hit the 2nd tri, things were spades better.  Everyone commented on how nice I still looked (apparently I went to crap with Squish), and how I was still in heels, etc.
Then we got to the 3rd tri, and someone made it point to hit me with a bag of bricks daily.   Then at about 36 weeks, the bag of bricks moved from beating me to sitting very, very, veeery, low in my pelvis.  Oh, and hitting all around my insides now.  I was up every hour and half or so at night.  It hurt to walk anywhere and I knew, just KNEW every day was “the” day because I had constant Braxton-Hicks, something I never experienced with number 1.
Finally, after everyone was at the point of saying how shocked they were that I was still pregnant, I woke up on Monday Oct, 22 (5 days before my due date)with regular cramps.  These cramps were different than the normal Braxton-Hicks I had been having for a month.  I got up, and got dressed to go to work, then thought better of it, and decided to send Squish and Husbro out the door, while I stayed home.  I also texted my MIL and SIL and told them to keep their phones close, just in case. I knew it wasn’t “time” just yet, but I knew I was really close.  Once the fam was gone, I decided I needed breakfast, so I walked to the McDonald’s by my house.  It’s about 6-7 blocks both ways, and I was hoping it would get things kick started.  I waddled over, ate, waddled back, and then decided to have a hot shower.  After the shower, I decided a nap was in order.  I woke up at around noon, and there was no more action. I was miffed, but kept my cool.  They started to come back around 4 or so in the evening, so I decided to download a tracker, and start keeping..track.  The way it worked was you would hit it once at the start of a contraction, and again when it was over.  I did this for a few hours, and saw the cramping was coming about 12-14 minutes apart, but still not strong at all.  I got up, cooked dinner, and texted my SIL that I was worried that I wouldn’t be able to have the baby without assistance.  You see, with Squish, my water broke and I never had a contraction, I ended up with Pitocin like 14 hrs later.  So I was starting to doubt that my body knew how to contract on its own.  SIL responded that this is sometimes the case, a little help would not hurt.  I agreed, and got ready for bed.  I brought my tablet with me to keep timing the contractions, but around 1 am, I decided to throw in the towel.  They were nothing to write home about, and I was just making myself anxious.  Squish lay in bed next to me, so I concentrated on being present with her, and enjoying our last (however many) moments, as mommie and only child.
At about 4 am, I awoke in an absolute panic.  My body was wracked in pain, and all I could think was “I have to run away, I have to get away from whatever this is!” . BUT, I couldn’t move because it hurt so much so I just writhed there until it went away.  Once it did, I got up and went to the restroom, where I saw just a tinge of pink after I went potty, but I knew that this was the infamous “bloody show”, and that it was time.  I went into the living room so that Sugarbeet could sleep while I was still in early labor.  I had another contraction bent over our easy chair, and then I spied my arch nemesis: a tree roach had gotten into the house and was taunting me from above a shelf on the wall above the tv. Noooooope.  I went into the room and work up SB to come and kill it.  I couldn’t possibly concentrate on laboring with that thing menacing me.  So, I asked him to wake up to dispatch it, oh and also btw, I’m in labor. LOL
Things were intense FAST, there was no build up.  We emailed work, texted SIL, and let MIL know that Squish was coming to stay with her.  Around 6, SIL was at the house.  She walked in while I was having a contraction, and I guess I was pretty loud because she says “Man, we can’t be here already! If we’re already here, we’re not going to have anywhere to go”…not what I wanted to hear, but I guess it was true.  SB woke our sleeping Squish and took her to MIL’s.  I thought saying good bye to her would have been so emotional, but labor was already taking over my brain, and I was pretty focused on that.
Up until this point I was listening to my Hypnobirthing tracks, but that little old lady’s voice got SUPER annoying, so I asked SIL to put on some regular music.  She pulled up our itunes, and I got to work; zoning in and out. The next few hours are a blur.  I would check in every hour to ask how many hours it had been.  You see, I heard that second babies can take half the time as first.  So since it was 8 hrs with Squish, surely this time it would be only four, right? Right. SIL kept on timing my contractions for me, and they were around 5-7 minutes apart.  I labored on my couch sitting up with pillow behind me, with my legs Indian style. We tried me standing and I about died, and I also tried with my legs flat on the floor, this too was deadly.  The only position that allowed me to cope was on the couch, legs crossed. 
At some point I got tired, and wanted to sleep in between contractions, but I could lay my head back, since I was propped straight up.  I asked SB to get in front of me so that I could lean my head forward and sleep that way.  I’m not sure how long this went on, but at around 11 we made the call to the midwife.  We spoke and she said that I was still in early labor, I’m guessing because of how I sounded, and because the contractions were still 5 minutes apart. She says that if I like, I can come in to the office and have her check me. Sheesh, I didn’t even get the offer to go to L&D!  At this point I felt like I needed to settle in for the long haul, and maintain my focus.  SB and SIL both said maybe I should get in the bath for a little, but that sounded like a nightmare. SIL also insisted that I try to walk, in order to get things moving, which once again, almost killed me. LOL. I stood up for one contraction, and then refused to do it again.  She tells me that my contractions are not getting any closer together, and that I should consider walking to help them along. This suggestion is met with utter refusal.
Then around 2:30, I realize that I am not coping well, at all.  I decided I needed to go to the restroom, but needed to wait till in between contractions, since I had terrible memories of the contraction I had while on the potty with Squish.  I was pretty sure I was going to die when that happened, so I didn’t want it again. So I hurried, but on my way back, started to have a contraction.  SB was out loading the car, so SIL got behind me to apply counter pressure while I rocked on the arm of the couch.  Then it began to peak, so I turn around, grabbed her hands, and ended up on the floor in a deeeep squat. I didn’t know how deep till I realized my butt was sweeping the ground. LOL. While this was going on, decided that I was in transition.  I also remembered that this stage can last from 30 minutes to hours, and I didn’t have hours of this in me.  So I said “We have to go NOW”.  Either this baby was coming, or I was getting meds, but I knew I couldn’t be at home anymore.
We got in the car, my worst, absolute WORST nightmare, and started towards the hospital.  This was a nightmare for me because I knew that being in a comfortable position is the best way for me to cope with contractions, and the car is NOT comfortable.  I had three contractions in the car, all of which I could do nothing but scream through.  Maybe it was a yell…a loud, high pitched moan? At any rate, things were very vocal in the car.  I only opened my eyes twice during the 15 minute ride to the hospital, and we arrived just that quickly, with me clutching the headrest, and directing SB were to go to get valet/patient drop off. 
SIL and I got out of the car, and are walking to the elevators, when I have another contraction.  I lean forward on SIL and rock and sway, this one is pretty light, not too bad, but I think that was only apparent to me, as Security asked if we needed a wheel chair, which I refused.  We went up the 15 floors and a slight contraction later, I get whisked past reception, and lead SIL back to the area where the midwives have their exam rooms/offices. We go in, and SB joins us as the midwife comes in to do my exam.  I told myself all the way to the hospital, that if she did the exam, and it didn’t hurt, then I was probably ready to go.  She did the exam, it did not hurt, and she said that I was ready to go! Now this should have brought some sort of relief over me, but it did not.  I asked when I would be able to push, and she said as soon as we get downstairs to L&D, but I did not find this comforting.  My SIL said that I had already done all of the hard work, but when you’re in the throes of it, hard and easy mean nothing.  You only want to hear done and over.  They bring in a wheelchair, I have another contraction, SB is there to hold me while I squat down to the floor, which alarms the midwife because she’s scared that I’m about to have the baby right there!  We get on the elevator, ride down, get me into my room, and have another low, squatting contraction on the way to the bed.
I’m sitting up in bed now, trying desperately to push. But I don’t feel like anything is happening.  I start to tell everyone that I can’t do it.  That this baby is not coming, and that I am helplessly lost on what to do next except give up.  Now mind you, there is no give up, baby is coming, but now I feel like a spectator more than a participant.  Like I can’t do what needs to be done to get this over. I go on like this for…maybe 10 minutes?. But then I realize that I am not ready to push just yet.  And it’s like at that very moment, a switch went off.  I breathed away a contraction, then half of one, and then I began to push. This felt as if I was getting nowhere again.  The only way I can describe it is trying to push your hand through a wall. You push, it pushes back, and you don’t feel any movement. VERY different from Squish, and I think that is why I struggled (besides not being ready yet) at the beginning.  Pushing is supposed to feel good. But this HURT, and I was not mentally prepared for that. BUT, there really is a part where your body takes over and says ready or not.  So,  I got to pushing.  I pushed once, and I heard the midwife tell me that I was going to feel a lot of burning, ah yes, the infamous Ring of Fire. Didn’t have that with Squish, and was determined not to have it this time.  I decided that if it was going to hurt to have that area stretch, I was going to hurry up and get him OUT. Lol. I push again, and continue getting that hand against a wall feeling, then MASSIVE amounts of awful pressure (like super awful, think…the biggest poop EVER lol!), then his head came out.  So, I think I’m done, but I hear the midwife say, ok, now lets get his shoulders out. What. THE FUDGE! Lol. Squish popped out like a champagne cork, this guy is making me work for it. UGH. So I push, his shoulder come, followed by the rest of him. 15:33 on 10/23/13. I look at SIL and say “I’m never doing this again”, and everyone laughs.
I’m still sitting up, never did recline, so when she goes to hand him to me, they have me lean slightly forward, since he apparently has a short umbilical cord, WHICH wow, I found hard to believe considering all of the rockin and rollin he did in there! They placed this hard rock baby in my hands, LOL.  I mean come on, baby girl is nicknamed Squishy for a reason.  This little boy had a broad, high chest, and strong, full arms and legs.  I think that’s why pushing was so different; this guy was all muscle, with not a hint of “squish” to be found.  I joke that I almost fell off the table when they placed him in my arms. She asked me if I wanted to wait until the cord stopped pulsing to which I said nooooope.  I knew that the placenta still needed to make its exodus, and so I was anxious to get that over with.  I’m not sure if delaying cutting the cord has any impact, but I figured if it did, I wanted that to be a quick as possible. I ended up with stiches, not too many but enough to where I had them take the baby to get cleaned up, since it was pretty painful. No epidural=no numbness for that carpet needle they use. :::shudder:::  They tell me he is 8lbs 5oz. Nice size, I think; a full pound heavier than Squish.
It was smooth sailing from there.  I had all of the L&D nurses telling me to coach my friends on coming in ready to push.  They said that I was “ideal”; in and out in 30 minutes or less! LOL. Everyone remarked about how I didn’t look like I just had a baby.  Honestly, I didn’t feel like it either. It was strange.  I just felt so normal so fast.  It was like immediate relief I guess, after so many months of schlepping around all tired and heavy.  My contractions never got closer than 5 minutes apart. I had no epidural, no IV, no Pitocin, no interventions what-so-ever. I think all of that helped my body through the healing process, along with my knowing what to expect.  My body said, “Yeah, we know what to do now, we’ve been through this before”, and I was back up on my feet in no time!
SO, that is it. Here I sit, 3 months out reminiscing on this, and slowly getting baby fever…HA!