Devon's birth story

I'm not eligible for the contest, but I'm still sharing my favorite birth story! I'll have to do Cody's too, his has a horrible nurse, lol. Here's a link to the Birth Story Contest!

I think all of my births had great story telling happenings, but I most enjoy Devon's. He's my third child, born in Germany in 1993.
My pregnancy was pretty uneventful, though I was NOT thrilled to be pregnant. I was in a foreign country with no family support. I was not a Christian, and had no church support. My second child screamed non-stop unless I was nursing her. I HAD NO HELP. Devon was a third anniversary surprise gift. I did not want to have this baby. Soon after I found out I was pregnant I said "If there is a God, this is His sick, cruel joke way of telling me I need Him." And that turned out to be prophetic.
Devon was due Jan. 5, but I was determined to have me a little New Years baby. Right on time I went in labor on Dec. 31st. Things were cooking along, every 15 minutes for hours. Come 10pm, everything comes to a screeching halt. UGH!
Then, on January 4th I started labor again, and I was pretty sure that it was the real thing. Donnie didn't want to believe me because he hates going to the hospital and then being sent home, and back and forth. He wants me to wait until the baby is falling out. The contractions were at 5 minute intervals, so I got a sitter and we headed out. The contractions were strong to me, but my muscles barely worked because my pregnancy before him I was in labor every 15 minutes for 6 months, so when I conceived Devon I couldn't even suck in my tummy, the muscles were that weak.
We pick up my friend and head on out for the 45 minute drive to the hospital. We get to the hospital and ride on up to the delivery room floor and ring the doorbell, which is really funny, but that's how its done there. They set me all up on the monitor and the contractions are coming 5 minutes apart and I'm dilated to 3-4. But after an hour the midwives decided that "your contractions aren't strong enough to bring a baby quickly" and sent me home to come back when the contractions are stronger. People, this is my 3rd child and contractions are 5 minutes apart.
But we trudge on home, Donnie mad at me, and drop my friend off at home with the promise to pick her up in the morning when we leave.
I wait all night for the contractions to get stronger. Donnie sleeping peacefully next to me, while I wake up every 5 minutes to breathe through a contraction. We had gotten home close to midnight, and things just were not getting stronger. They stayed steady in time and strength. I'm getting pretty frustrated at this point you know.
Then about 6:45am on Devon's due date of all days, I hit a point when I KNOW this baby is coming. NOW. I'm mean as a snake now. Donnie knows this is transition, which typically takes a few hours to get through. He's thinking I'm dilated to maybe 7. But he dutifully hurries to get out the door since I will kill him if he moves slowly.
We run over to the other base and pick up my friend. And do you know what he did next? With me screaming in the front seat with every contraction? He goes to Burger King drive thru for breakfast! Yes, he did! He wanted breakfast before the hours and hours of labor.
Then, on the autobahn, where there is barely a speed limit, he drives 60mph, its Sunday, the roads are empty, and he drives 60mph. With me screaming that the baby is coming out. My water hasn't broken, but I know he's coming out.
My friend tells Donnie she thinks something must be wrong and he should hurry things up. I'm screaming, really, I'm screaming. He says, and I quote "She always does this." So, my friend tries to relax.
I keep telling him the baby is coming out with the bag of waters attached, so go to the ambulance entrance. My friend agrees. But does my husband? Nope, but he does have the decency to pull up at the front door, where he can get me settled and then come back out and park it.
They each take one arm and pull me screaming across the lobby to the elevator. The contraction stops in the elevator, so I'm not screaming when the door opens, so I shrug them off of me and walk to the door and ring the doorbell. The midwives answer it, and thankfully the doctors are up at this point since its just after 8am.
When they answered the door they said "Yes, how can we help you?" I said "I'm having a baby NOW."
So, in the door we rush, right into the delivery room, and the quickly help me undress from the waist down for a quick check. So, there I sit in my sweatshirt and socks, and they bust my water and I push him right out the rest of the way, and Donnie and my friend are still standing in the doorway. They didn't even get all the way into the room.
I gave Donnie my best evil look and said "I TOLD you he was coming out!" He was born at 8:05am on his due date. He weighed 8lbs5oz and was 20in long.
He would have been born long before that if we had stayed in the hospital and had my water broken.
Donnie pretty much made me breast feed because he was hoping to foster a bond between us, I just didn't want another child like Kaytlin, screaming all the time.
2 months later, I was saved! God was telling me I needed him, and Devon pushed my right into God's arms, and I will always cherish Devon in a bit more special of a way because of it. Devon was a good baby, too.