My last midwife's appointment didn't go quite as expected. She measured, felt around a little, and looked a little worried. She started looking for a heartbeat, and it was taking a lot longer than normal, and she was looking more concerned. Finally, I heard that reassuring 'whoosh, whoosh, whoosh' and I smiled at her, but she wasn't smiling back. "These heart tones are high . . . " she said, "Not fast, but higher up on your body than they should be he's engaged. Has you felt any big, dramatic movements recently?" He's been active, but nothing that felt really dramatic, I thought. Then I remembered a few days ago where I'd made Greg feel my stomach for like 20 straight minutes because there was so much more movement than normal. But nothing that felt like he'd flipped. She did an internal check, I'm less dilated than I was two weeks ago, and the baby was so high she couldn't positively identify the presenting body part since he was floating up so high. This baby has been head down and further down than any of my other kids for longer than any of my other kids have been. To hear he was just suddenly up 'floating' was really odd. Especially since I'd been feeling so much new pressure and pelvic pain over the last couple days. She had the receptionist call the OBs office to get me in for an ultrasound, as soon as possible. Worst fears confirmed, and there was my little boy's butt, straight down. Frank breech. I couldn't believe it. How does this full term baby who's been head down for months, suddenly flip. And why? Why now? My due date is less than a week away, and I'm rapidly running out of time for him to flip back around. And I'm frustrated, because I feel like all my options have been stripped away. Breech births have become pretty much an automatic c-section in the obstetrics world. Despite the fact I have lightening fast births, my babies pop out in seconds with almost no effort, and that we have a family history of successful breech births (my Mom was born breech in one push), I won't even be given the chance to try in a hospital. I'll be numbed, strapped to a table, and be given a c-section. I know a c-section isn't the worst thing, by any stretch of the imagination. But all I can think of is having to stay in the hospital longer to recover, while Isaac is home even longer without me. Then getting home after 'abandoning' him for longer than I've ever left him before, and not even being able to pick up my 17 month old son. How do I explain that to him? Stairs, which are plentiful in our house, will be so much more difficult, and I will have a baby and a toddler who expect to be carried up and down them every time someone needs to eat or the door bell rings, or I need anything on another floor of my house. I know it'll all be temporary. A few hard weeks are a blink in the eye of this life, and in the long run it won't matter that the first few weeks of Owen's life were more complicated than the other kids. But man, those few weeks are scaring the crap out of me.
I feel like my whole world just got turned upside down on me, not just the baby. What could I have done differently? Is it the position I sleep in? I'm going to a chiropractor today . . . what if it doesn't work? What if it doesn't work in time? What positions do I try, of all the millions of suggestions to be found on google, which ridiculous looking positions do I actually put myself in to try and make things conducive to turning? (Um, I will not be standing on my head. I'm sure it's beneficial with gravity and all, but I told Greg I couldn't do that under normal circumstances, I most definitely can't do it at 39+ weeks pregnant.) What if he flips back around, only to turn around breech the next day? How do I fix this? How do I prevent it from happening again if I can somehow fix it? How much time do I have left? How do I know if he flipped? I couldn't tell he had the first time, how do I know if he turns head down? How do I get some sleep when this is all I can think about?
Please Baby, please turn again. Mom needs you to turn again.
Showing posts with label Pregnancy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Pregnancy. Show all posts
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
Monday, December 12, 2011
Final Countdown
Today was my 37 week appointment. Full term. As in 'can have this baby tomorrow or in four weeks from now' countdown. I've always pictured having this baby a week late or so (like his older brother), so not until the first week of January. But it's just been this last couple (increasingly uncomfortable) days that it's been dawning on me that I could actually have this baby any time now. Especially once my midwife told me the baby is in perfect position, really far down, and I'm dilated to almost a three. The great thing about dilation is that it tells you absolutely nothing :-) Being dilated to a three could mean I could have this baby tonight, and it could mean I go a week overdue. But, still. Hearing that made me come home and pre-register at the hospital finally, and get started on packing a hospital bag.
So, I'm due January 2nd, 2012.
To recap, I had Annie on her due date, Ellie was a few weeks early, and Isaac was a full week late.
Annie was 6.5 lbs, Ellie was 6 lbs. and Isaac was 8 lbs. 1 ounce.
Remember, last time my labor went pretty fast. And I didn't realize I was nearing the end of labor until I suddenly yelled to the nurse who just happened to be in the room talking to us that I was pushing. Then Isaac was born about a minute later or less. With my midwife in the next room, and no time for her or anyone else to get into the room. The next day my midwife said to Greg, "Hope you were paying attention . . . you may end up delivering next time."
So, do we think we'll make it to the hospital in time?
Will Greg end up delivering this baby in the car? By himself in the hospital room?
Any guesses when I have this baby?
How big will he be?
Dramatic birth story taking place in the hospital lobby? (Like my cousin . . . hi Marissa!)
So, I'm due January 2nd, 2012.
To recap, I had Annie on her due date, Ellie was a few weeks early, and Isaac was a full week late.
Annie was 6.5 lbs, Ellie was 6 lbs. and Isaac was 8 lbs. 1 ounce.
Remember, last time my labor went pretty fast. And I didn't realize I was nearing the end of labor until I suddenly yelled to the nurse who just happened to be in the room talking to us that I was pushing. Then Isaac was born about a minute later or less. With my midwife in the next room, and no time for her or anyone else to get into the room. The next day my midwife said to Greg, "Hope you were paying attention . . . you may end up delivering next time."
So, do we think we'll make it to the hospital in time?
Will Greg end up delivering this baby in the car? By himself in the hospital room?
Any guesses when I have this baby?
How big will he be?
Dramatic birth story taking place in the hospital lobby? (Like my cousin . . . hi Marissa!)
And then just for fun, a picture one of our last family outings
(to see Christmas lights) as a family of five . . .
. . . I JUST realized that means we're going to be a family of six sometime in the next month. That suddenly sounds huge and scary to me :-) Think I would've done some of this math before now . . . :-)
Saturday, August 27, 2011
My Little Squash & Due Date Wishes!
So, I got my weekly pregnancy update email today. I was informed that my 22 week old fetus was now about the size of a squash . . . or just around 11 inches and about a pound.
I've been reading my 'fruit sized' updates for the last 12 weeks or so, informing Annie and Ellie that their baby was now the size of a kiwi, then an apple, then a small cucumber from Grandma's garden. But today, the stats just stopped me in my tracks for a second, as I caught my breath. My baby isn't the size of a squash. My baby is the size of Quinn.
I've been reading my 'fruit sized' updates for the last 12 weeks or so, informing Annie and Ellie that their baby was now the size of a kiwi, then an apple, then a small cucumber from Grandma's garden. But today, the stats just stopped me in my tracks for a second, as I caught my breath. My baby isn't the size of a squash. My baby is the size of Quinn.
Our friend Quinn was born last May at an unbelievable 15.5 ounces and 10 inches long.
It was kind of amazing to think that the tiny kicking little boy inside my stomach, who's barely letting himself be known through little flutters and an occasional decent kick, is no smaller than Miss Quinn herself when she was born.
Defying any odds stacked against her tiny self, she's grown into the most amazing toddler.
 |
| Quinn and Isaac earlier this summer. |
And now here we are, about 15 months later, and it's Quinn's official Due Date Day!
Had this fiesty wonder not came into the world 15 weeks early, she's be celebrating her first birthday right about now.
I think Quinn's gonna make a lot of the 15 week head start she got on life -- she's already right there with my kids on my list of genius children I adore :-)
Happy Due Date Day Sellers Family!
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
It's a . . .
BOY!
OK, so most people might have already heard via facebook . . . but we had our ultrasound last night and got to see our healthy baby boy. I think I was shocked. Happily, happily shocked. I really would've been happy with either a boy or a girl, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't secretly hoping for another baby boy. It'll just make life easier -- we have the two kids bedrooms upstairs, so having two girls and two boys simplifies the longer term sleeping arrangements. And with this little surprise bundle of joy coming less than 18 months since Isaac joined the family, having them be two little buddies to entertain each other just makes me smile. I also secretly was pretty convinced that because I had any kind of preference (again, would've been totally happy with a girl though!) that the punishment of said preference would be not getting what I wanted. :-) Thus my shock at the ultrasound tech's announcement of gender. I should've known it'd be a boy though -- and how should've I known, you ask? 'Cause of the name. See, back in the days of my first pregnancy, I was convinced I was having a boy. I really, really liked the name Annie for a girl (it was my nickname as a kid from my Dad, based on my middle name Ann), but try as we might, we could not come up with a boy name we both fell in love with. Slowly, the baby in my belly secretly became Annie to me, which freaked me out, 'cause I was still so convinced it would be a boy. But, lo and behold, we found out we were having a girl, and she's been Annie ever since. Same story basically with Ellie. Early on in our pregnancy, we were in a store, when a Mom called out, "Ellie! Ellie Belly, come here!" Greg melted, turned to me and said, "I want an Ellie Belly!" (Although we were still debating Ellie or Lilly for awhile -- so that one wasn't quite as firm as Annie was, we never had a boys name picked out that we liked.) Along came Isaac, and this time girls' names were elusive, and the boy name just stuck and we ended up with a boy. This time around we joked about continuing our vowel name streak (A-E-I-and now O) with either the name Olivia or Owen. I like the name Olivia, but it never really resonated with me this time around (although oddly, it was a name we'd discussed quite a bit for a past baby). But Owen. That name just stuck in my head. I had a hard time not thinking of the baby as 'Owen.' So, just from past experience, I should've known -- it'd be the name we liked. (At least, I think Greg likes it -- he's been very mute about baby names this time, and he's never objected, and now the girls are calling the baby 'Baby Owen', so he may be stuck with it, like it or not at this point!) :-)
Oh, and for those who hadn't read about it on facebook -- we took Annie to the ultrasound appointment with us, despite it being REALLY late. Then, we let Ellie stay up late with Grandma who was baby sitting at home. Annie was excited about seeing her baby brother first, and got progressively more and more slap happy while we were there (stopping the ultrasound a few times 'cause the tech and I couldn't stop laughing). (She was totally being egged on by her Dad too, who was telling her funny stories, just to make her more goofy, I'm convinced.) I let Annie be the one to call Grandma Karine and Ellie to tell them the big news. Grandma was very excited. Ellie on the other hand, started crying. Then sobbing. For like the next 10 minutes, and when we got home she was still inconsolable. My Mom had been trying to explain all the benefits to the new little brother in our family, and how she'll have a new little girl cousin born just a few months before, but this just made her sob harder and wail, "But I want a girl baby of my own!" My Mom pointed out that she has a sister already, which made her miss Annie who wasn't home yet, and she sobbed about wanting Annie there. My Mom pointed out how much fun Isaac was and she cried that he was not fun at all. It should be mentioned that it was two and a half hours after her bedtime, and she seems a bit better with the news today. Not quite happy, but not hysterical. :-)
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
Each Pregnancy is Different
I've been really amazed at how different all four of my pregnancies have been. With Annie's pregnancy, I thought I'd never feel the baby move. And I was well past 20 weeks before I was feeling her consistently (despite an ultrasound that showed her doing several somersaults, and every appointment the doctor having a hard time finding the heartbeat 'cause she was so wiggly.) I remember being a tad bit freaked out by a nearly one pound being inside me, moving nonstop, and me not being able to feel the vast majority of it. I now think of those 'baby octopus living in a woman's stomach' urban legends in a whole new light. With Ellie I remember being surprised to feel very subtle, but noticeable movement around 12-13 weeks. Isaac was the same . . . I felt him first right around 12 weeks. Once, at 15 weeks, he even bumped me so hard that Greg, who happened to have his hand on my stomach, even felt that kick! (Although he did not feel another one 'til 25+ weeks.) So, it's weirded me out, big time, that I don't feel this baby yet. I think I've felt him/her once, maybe twice, but nothing I can for sure say was the baby. And I'm past 16 weeks now. I think normally I'd be pretty freaked out about this, but I've actually been pretty calm about it. Mainly because I feel like puking so often. Who knew there'd be a plus side to rampant nausea? :-) Hearing my daughters ask their Dad at dinner time last night, "Why did Mom just run out of here? What's she doing in the bathroom?" while I'm heaving in the toilet, is actually fairly reassuring when my pregnancy doesn't feel exactly like I think it should. :-) And this one definitely hasn't felt like I thought it would, including, but not limited to, my morning sickness. I've had nausea, even a little puking, with all my pregnancies. But none that have made me feel quite as crappy as this one. I spent a lot more time nauseous, and I've definitely thrown up more (but I'm really not complaining, it's been so mild compared to some of my friend's pregnancies!) I don't know if it's just me getting older, me having been pregnant more recently (and still nursing), or if it's just this pregnancy -- but I've just felt sicker and weaker. (Although I've had less fatigue, which is good! Nobody around here lets me nap!) :-) But the nausea, like I said, has been oddly reassuring. I remember getting out the maternity pants at like 9 weeks with my last two pregnancies -- this one, I was wearing all my same clothes, and besides looking a bit 'thicker' in the middle, I didn't really look pregnant (not even to myself) until this last week or so. (I finally had Greg help me get the maternity clothes out of the garage last night. Now I just need to wash them. Again, I'm past 16 weeks.) I'm not sure why my belly took so long to appear this time -- it was another thing that mildly freaked me out. I'm blaming the 10-15 pounds I hadn't lost since Isaac's birth though -- I think it was acting like camouflage :-) I have to admit though, having my belly finally pop out a bit this last week has lessened any mild concern I had floating around the back of my head -- plus, I'm just looking forward to the day when I'm noticeably pregnant, and not just going to be leaving people thinking, "Wow, she's put on some weight," in my wake.
I have an appointment this week with my midwife. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't getting super antsy about going in and hearing the heartbeat (this not feeling the baby thing is freaking me out -- I now remember what it was like in my first pregnancy, where you're thinking, "How do you expect me to believe there's an actual human being growing in there if I'm not feeling anything?!") Plus, this appointment is the one where we make our appointment for the ultrasound. We're all so excited around here to find out if this is a baby boy or girl, that I don't know how much longer we can wait :-) The girls talk nonstop about 'Baby O', and there is much debate as to the gender. Ellie keeps asking for a little sister -- she's never wavered from what she wants when her and I have talked about it. Annie on the other hand likes to weigh the pros and cons; and while she initially felt this baby needed to be a boy, to even out the gender ratio in our home, she's since realized there are more boy cousins in the family than girls, and another little girl would even things out in the cousins-world of things. Tough call. :-)
I have an appointment this week with my midwife. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't getting super antsy about going in and hearing the heartbeat (this not feeling the baby thing is freaking me out -- I now remember what it was like in my first pregnancy, where you're thinking, "How do you expect me to believe there's an actual human being growing in there if I'm not feeling anything?!") Plus, this appointment is the one where we make our appointment for the ultrasound. We're all so excited around here to find out if this is a baby boy or girl, that I don't know how much longer we can wait :-) The girls talk nonstop about 'Baby O', and there is much debate as to the gender. Ellie keeps asking for a little sister -- she's never wavered from what she wants when her and I have talked about it. Annie on the other hand likes to weigh the pros and cons; and while she initially felt this baby needed to be a boy, to even out the gender ratio in our home, she's since realized there are more boy cousins in the family than girls, and another little girl would even things out in the cousins-world of things. Tough call. :-)
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Scanned Pictures
I have a few pictures that I needed to scan in . . . the first two are Annie's t-ball pictures from this year.
(Annie's the second kid from the left on the top row).
Then on Saturday we went to our local hospital's "Health Fair". The kids had so much fun, bandaging teddy bears, seeing fire trucks, eating slushies in recovery, and seeing a pseudo-Elmo (who taught me once again why the characters in Disneyland NEVER talk -- it just sounds SO wrong. No adult male should try and mimic Elmo's voice -- it's beyond creepy). :-) Isaac was so excited to see Elmo, you just can't tell from this picture.
In other news, the pregnancy is going well -- I got to hear the heartbeat again last week, and I'm officially entering my second trimester. I'm hoping to leave the horrific nausea behind . . . I have glimpses of feeling better, but we're not there yet. The girls talk a lot about 'Baby O' and have started kissing my tummy. A lot.
Isaac wasn't feeling well Friday -- and a little worse Saturday and Sunday. Just a cold, but it's thrown off his sleep again. Unfortunately, Greg, Annie, Ellie and I all woke up with it today. The girls are whiny, moody, sulking, snot-factories, and Greg and I are congested, overly tired, grumpy parents. It's summer, right? What's up with everyone I've been talking to being sick?!
Monday, June 27, 2011
Almost a Year Old . . .
With him being a little over a week away from being a year old, I thought I'd throw together a bit of an update about Isaac:
Three teeth are in . . . one more fighting its way through. Still pretty grumpy and pissed about this.
Taking steps. All over the place. Up to 6 or 7 at a time. Never walking to Mom or Dad, but he will walk for the vacuum cleaner or to his toy bus.
Talking. The boy is a chatter box -- he babbles whole paragraphs. The vast majority unrecognizable. Although, occasionally he nails a word so right-on it's amazing (like while counting in the tub this morning with his sisters, Annie said the word 'seven' and Isaac mimicked it so perfectly you would've thought the kid was counting along. I don't imagine he'll say 'seven' again anytime soon though.)
He still loves patty cake and Elmo. The two together is about as good as it gets.
Sharing. He's CONSTANTLY handing us soggy cheerios or goopy puffs to eat. We have to palm it, pretend to throw it in our mouths and he squeals and claps. It's disgusting and adorable.
Loves going down his slide -- this freaks me out a little. He only gets the 'feet first' position down about half the time.
He's obsessed with trying to get up the stairs. He loves going up them. Gets really, really angry whenever I try to show him how to turn backwards and go down the stairs.
He wakes up around 6AM or so every morning. This is not my favorite thing. But he goes to bed at 7:30 every night, and that I do like.
Three teeth are in . . . one more fighting its way through. Still pretty grumpy and pissed about this.
Taking steps. All over the place. Up to 6 or 7 at a time. Never walking to Mom or Dad, but he will walk for the vacuum cleaner or to his toy bus.
Talking. The boy is a chatter box -- he babbles whole paragraphs. The vast majority unrecognizable. Although, occasionally he nails a word so right-on it's amazing (like while counting in the tub this morning with his sisters, Annie said the word 'seven' and Isaac mimicked it so perfectly you would've thought the kid was counting along. I don't imagine he'll say 'seven' again anytime soon though.)
He still loves patty cake and Elmo. The two together is about as good as it gets.
Sharing. He's CONSTANTLY handing us soggy cheerios or goopy puffs to eat. We have to palm it, pretend to throw it in our mouths and he squeals and claps. It's disgusting and adorable.
Loves going down his slide -- this freaks me out a little. He only gets the 'feet first' position down about half the time.
He's obsessed with trying to get up the stairs. He loves going up them. Gets really, really angry whenever I try to show him how to turn backwards and go down the stairs.
He wakes up around 6AM or so every morning. This is not my favorite thing. But he goes to bed at 7:30 every night, and that I do like.
Monday, May 30, 2011
They Say It's Your Birthday, Na na na na na . . .
So, today is my birthday. Greg got the day off of work, 'cause I'm that special. (Or 'cause my birthday is Memorial Day -- but it's probably more the 'that special' thing.)
Greg brought me toast in bed before I even sat up . . . but then again, he's been doing that every morning, 'cause I feel like puking if I don't eat before I get out of bed. Yay for ever-increasing-morning-sickness.
I had the weirdest realization about my birthday this year. I'm pregnant on my birthday. Just like I was LAST YEAR. How crazy is that?! It's times like that when it suddenly hits me just how close together these two pregnancies really are. :-)
Well, I'm off to celebrate being 32 . . .or more accurately, going to various cemeteries and visiting distant relatives. Y'all just wish your birthdays fell on national holidays!
(Here's last year's birthday post, where I realized how far I've come from being the month-long-birthday-girl who reveled in her Memorial Day birthday where tons of second cousins twice removed remembered me as the birthday girl at our annual family reunion, to now, where both Greg and I keep forgetting to plan anything for our birthdays 'cause they just kinda sneak up on us! The best part was where last year I recounted an exchange between Greg and I, where the night before my birthday he was all, "Um, I forgot to get anything ready . . . ", 'cause we had the EXACT same conversation last night.) :-)
Greg brought me toast in bed before I even sat up . . . but then again, he's been doing that every morning, 'cause I feel like puking if I don't eat before I get out of bed. Yay for ever-increasing-morning-sickness.
I had the weirdest realization about my birthday this year. I'm pregnant on my birthday. Just like I was LAST YEAR. How crazy is that?! It's times like that when it suddenly hits me just how close together these two pregnancies really are. :-)
Well, I'm off to celebrate being 32 . . .or more accurately, going to various cemeteries and visiting distant relatives. Y'all just wish your birthdays fell on national holidays!
(Here's last year's birthday post, where I realized how far I've come from being the month-long-birthday-girl who reveled in her Memorial Day birthday where tons of second cousins twice removed remembered me as the birthday girl at our annual family reunion, to now, where both Greg and I keep forgetting to plan anything for our birthdays 'cause they just kinda sneak up on us! The best part was where last year I recounted an exchange between Greg and I, where the night before my birthday he was all, "Um, I forgot to get anything ready . . . ", 'cause we had the EXACT same conversation last night.) :-)
Thursday, May 26, 2011
And Then I Figured Out, "Holy Crap, I'm Pregnant?!"
(Warning in advance: this mentions 'periods' . . . and not punctuation . . . um, if that somehow offends your sensibility, you should probably stop reading. Probably this blog in general. I also talk about potty training a lot, and trust me, that's about to ramp up again . . . )
In Disneyland, I felt a bit different. "Hmmm," I thought when I started spotting, "maybe my periods are starting?" Which was disappointing, since I didn't have such things start up again until my other babies were over a year old, and Isaac was only 10 months. Must be the altitude change, I thought. The whole week, I spotted. I know I had the fleeting thought once or twice, "What if I'm pregnant." But that was crazy talk. I mean, dude, there's NO way. Then after a few days of no more spotting, I thought my period was over, and we were driving home. And I felt crappy. And started spotting a lot more. About half way through the drive, I turned to Greg and said, "I don't think this is a period . . . I think I'm pregnant. And miscarrying." Before I'd gotten pregnant with Isaac, the same thing had happened. I'd gotten pregnant without having a period and while being on the pill, and I started spotting, thought it was a period, after a week it ramped up and I realized it was a pregnancy that was miscarrying. This, I assumed, was the same thing. I was kinda numb. We pulled into the garage after our long drive, I ran straight upstairs, rummaged through my bathroom, found a pregnancy test and tested. It turned positive in like 2 seconds flat. I've never had one turn positive so fast (I've also always known I was pregnant before 4 weeks along, so those tests take longer to turn positive.) I was definitely in shock. I dragged Greg in and made him stare at it with me. He'd just drove all day long, and was like, "OK, whatever," and went back in to get the kids ready for bed. This was all on a Saturday. On Monday, I called my midwives office, "Oh," they said, "Why don't you just take it easy for a few days, and call us if it gets worse . . . " That seemed less helpful to me. I called an OB's office where I'd gone before I started seeing my midwife, "Why don't you come in for a series of hcg bloodwork . . . we'll see if your numbers are going up or down?" So, feeling pretty much my most self conscious, I dragged three screaming children to the hospital with me for blood work. At the registration desk, Annie and Ellie are fighting, Isaac's shrieking in his car seat, and they ask me, "You're here for blood work, correct?' "Yes." "An hcg test," she asks as she stares at Isaac, "for pregnancy, I assume?" "Um, yes." While getting my insurance information copied and filed, "So, you're hear for a pregnancy test?" "Uh huh." "Wow, someone has their hands full!" as Ellie throws herself to the floor screaming, and I'm trying to nonchalantly shove Cheerios in hers and Isaac's mouths. Then at the lab, "So, you're here for a pregnancy test, right?" the lady asked, as Isaac hollered at both of us and the girls kicked each other. "Um, yeah."
The next day, I called the OB's office. The nurse couldn't come to the phone, but she wanted to discuss the results with me, so she'd have to call me back. I waited, then finally got the call. My hcg numbers were over 50,000. To put that in perspective, my little sister had hers tested around 5 weeks along, and hers were 3500. I was all, "Wow, that's high . . . so, do I come in tomorrow to get another test done?" She laughed and said, "No, we don't retest when you're that high . . . we will just need to get you right in for an ultrasound to date this pregnancy!" Then they scheduled my appointment and ultrasound for TWO WEEKS away. I knew I didn't have the patience for that. So, I called my midwives office again, this time telling them I already knew my hcg numbers, and they were all, "Oh wow, you're anywhere from 6-12 weeks along with numbers like that! Let's guess on the low end and say you're seven weeks . . . then we'd want to see you around 11 weeks, and we'd want to get an ultrasound before 12, since they date better before 12, so why don't we have you come in, oh, three weeks from now." Um, what? Why is nobody understanding that (although I know it doesn't change anything) I'm going to have a freaking heart attack if someone doesn't tell me how far along I am?! So I pushed back with, "Um, I really want to know when I'm due . . . please?" She seemed surprised, and was all, "Oh, I guess you could come see her tomorrow then . . . she could check with the doppler and that should tell us how far along you are." Um, I wasn't going to argue, 'cause I finally talked a provider into seeing me that next day, but dude . . . a doppler is NOT going to tell me how far along I am. It will or will not tell me if they can pick up a heartbeat, which frankly tells us nothing more than the hcg test. But, I was getting to see someone the next day, so I shut up. I got in and saw my midwife. Who laughed when she walked in the door. "Didn't I just see you," she teased. She didn't even try the doppler, 'cause as she put it, "It wouldn't tell us anything." Right?! That's what I said . . . well, thought to myself! Then she said, "The very earliest you could be would be around 6 weeks, unless they're multiples," she teased again. Not funny, dude. :-) "So, I wouldn't want to do the ultrasound 'til you're at least 7 weeks, so we'll wait a week and then do an ultrasound. My heart sunk to the freaking floor. I JUST WANT TO KNOW HOW PREGNANT I AM. We went out to make the appointment (you go to the OBs office for ultrasounds), and I mentioned that Thursday didn't work for me. How about Wednesday? Um, not so great. She looked at me, smiled, and said, "Tell you what . . . how's Monday . . . " I grinned, "Perfect."
Since hearing my hcg blood work results, that whole week was a combination of, "How cool would it be if I'm like 11 weeks along and just didn't know I was pregnant?!" and "Dang, what if I'm only like 5 weeks along with twins!?" :-) And, as the spotting spaced out even more, I was really realizing for the first time that 'this might really be happening . . . we're gonna have another baby.'
So, Monday I went in for an ultrasound. The first thing I said after watching for about 10 seconds is, "There's only one in there, right?" She laughed and said, "So far . . . but yeah, it looks like just one." The ultrasound showed our baby to be 8 weeks along, (further than my lowest guess, and gut instinct, but not as far along as I'd been secretly hoping) with a heart rate of 170, a cool looking spinal cord and still kinda shaped like a bean. And doing perfectly well. Things sunk in. And I was really happy. If not still a bit mildly terrified. I was pregnant less than a year ago, you know? And my baby doesn't even have teeth yet . . . are you allowed to be pregnant if your baby still doesn't have teeth? Or walk? Or talk? Or sleep through the freaking night?
It'll be OK. (That's my new mantra). And the countless stories people have shared of their kids who are 13, 15, 16 or 17 months apart, help a lot. :-)
This is really happening . . . and I really think it's supposed to . . .
In Disneyland, I felt a bit different. "Hmmm," I thought when I started spotting, "maybe my periods are starting?" Which was disappointing, since I didn't have such things start up again until my other babies were over a year old, and Isaac was only 10 months. Must be the altitude change, I thought. The whole week, I spotted. I know I had the fleeting thought once or twice, "What if I'm pregnant." But that was crazy talk. I mean, dude, there's NO way. Then after a few days of no more spotting, I thought my period was over, and we were driving home. And I felt crappy. And started spotting a lot more. About half way through the drive, I turned to Greg and said, "I don't think this is a period . . . I think I'm pregnant. And miscarrying." Before I'd gotten pregnant with Isaac, the same thing had happened. I'd gotten pregnant without having a period and while being on the pill, and I started spotting, thought it was a period, after a week it ramped up and I realized it was a pregnancy that was miscarrying. This, I assumed, was the same thing. I was kinda numb. We pulled into the garage after our long drive, I ran straight upstairs, rummaged through my bathroom, found a pregnancy test and tested. It turned positive in like 2 seconds flat. I've never had one turn positive so fast (I've also always known I was pregnant before 4 weeks along, so those tests take longer to turn positive.) I was definitely in shock. I dragged Greg in and made him stare at it with me. He'd just drove all day long, and was like, "OK, whatever," and went back in to get the kids ready for bed. This was all on a Saturday. On Monday, I called my midwives office, "Oh," they said, "Why don't you just take it easy for a few days, and call us if it gets worse . . . " That seemed less helpful to me. I called an OB's office where I'd gone before I started seeing my midwife, "Why don't you come in for a series of hcg bloodwork . . . we'll see if your numbers are going up or down?" So, feeling pretty much my most self conscious, I dragged three screaming children to the hospital with me for blood work. At the registration desk, Annie and Ellie are fighting, Isaac's shrieking in his car seat, and they ask me, "You're here for blood work, correct?' "Yes." "An hcg test," she asks as she stares at Isaac, "for pregnancy, I assume?" "Um, yes." While getting my insurance information copied and filed, "So, you're hear for a pregnancy test?" "Uh huh." "Wow, someone has their hands full!" as Ellie throws herself to the floor screaming, and I'm trying to nonchalantly shove Cheerios in hers and Isaac's mouths. Then at the lab, "So, you're here for a pregnancy test, right?" the lady asked, as Isaac hollered at both of us and the girls kicked each other. "Um, yeah."
The next day, I called the OB's office. The nurse couldn't come to the phone, but she wanted to discuss the results with me, so she'd have to call me back. I waited, then finally got the call. My hcg numbers were over 50,000. To put that in perspective, my little sister had hers tested around 5 weeks along, and hers were 3500. I was all, "Wow, that's high . . . so, do I come in tomorrow to get another test done?" She laughed and said, "No, we don't retest when you're that high . . . we will just need to get you right in for an ultrasound to date this pregnancy!" Then they scheduled my appointment and ultrasound for TWO WEEKS away. I knew I didn't have the patience for that. So, I called my midwives office again, this time telling them I already knew my hcg numbers, and they were all, "Oh wow, you're anywhere from 6-12 weeks along with numbers like that! Let's guess on the low end and say you're seven weeks . . . then we'd want to see you around 11 weeks, and we'd want to get an ultrasound before 12, since they date better before 12, so why don't we have you come in, oh, three weeks from now." Um, what? Why is nobody understanding that (although I know it doesn't change anything) I'm going to have a freaking heart attack if someone doesn't tell me how far along I am?! So I pushed back with, "Um, I really want to know when I'm due . . . please?" She seemed surprised, and was all, "Oh, I guess you could come see her tomorrow then . . . she could check with the doppler and that should tell us how far along you are." Um, I wasn't going to argue, 'cause I finally talked a provider into seeing me that next day, but dude . . . a doppler is NOT going to tell me how far along I am. It will or will not tell me if they can pick up a heartbeat, which frankly tells us nothing more than the hcg test. But, I was getting to see someone the next day, so I shut up. I got in and saw my midwife. Who laughed when she walked in the door. "Didn't I just see you," she teased. She didn't even try the doppler, 'cause as she put it, "It wouldn't tell us anything." Right?! That's what I said . . . well, thought to myself! Then she said, "The very earliest you could be would be around 6 weeks, unless they're multiples," she teased again. Not funny, dude. :-) "So, I wouldn't want to do the ultrasound 'til you're at least 7 weeks, so we'll wait a week and then do an ultrasound. My heart sunk to the freaking floor. I JUST WANT TO KNOW HOW PREGNANT I AM. We went out to make the appointment (you go to the OBs office for ultrasounds), and I mentioned that Thursday didn't work for me. How about Wednesday? Um, not so great. She looked at me, smiled, and said, "Tell you what . . . how's Monday . . . " I grinned, "Perfect."
Since hearing my hcg blood work results, that whole week was a combination of, "How cool would it be if I'm like 11 weeks along and just didn't know I was pregnant?!" and "Dang, what if I'm only like 5 weeks along with twins!?" :-) And, as the spotting spaced out even more, I was really realizing for the first time that 'this might really be happening . . . we're gonna have another baby.'
So, Monday I went in for an ultrasound. The first thing I said after watching for about 10 seconds is, "There's only one in there, right?" She laughed and said, "So far . . . but yeah, it looks like just one." The ultrasound showed our baby to be 8 weeks along, (further than my lowest guess, and gut instinct, but not as far along as I'd been secretly hoping) with a heart rate of 170, a cool looking spinal cord and still kinda shaped like a bean. And doing perfectly well. Things sunk in. And I was really happy. If not still a bit mildly terrified. I was pregnant less than a year ago, you know? And my baby doesn't even have teeth yet . . . are you allowed to be pregnant if your baby still doesn't have teeth? Or walk? Or talk? Or sleep through the freaking night?
It'll be OK. (That's my new mantra). And the countless stories people have shared of their kids who are 13, 15, 16 or 17 months apart, help a lot. :-)
This is really happening . . . and I really think it's supposed to . . .
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Practically Inhumane
Dear OB Offices Everywhere,
If you ask a pregnant woman to consume 32 ounces of water an hour before an ultrasound appointment, then tell her to refrain from peeing, then leave her waiting out in the waiting room, not even acknowledging her presence, for 30 minutes past the time of her appointment (after telling her to arrive 15 minutes early) . . . that is just cruel and unusual punishment.
Sincerely,
An Irritated Pregnant Woman Whose Bladder Nearly Burst in the Middle of Your Freaking Waiting Room.
(Um yes, I'm pregnant. Crazy, right? Please say nothing but super supportive and encouraging things, like how two babies (less than) 18 months apart will be the best thing that ever happened to me, and how you're greatest, sweetest, favorite (although you'd never admit it), smartest, funnest, most loving child came from a completely unexpected pregnancy, and although you'd never have chosen to be pregnant again so soon (not in a million and a half years), it turned out to be the greatest thing ever. Thanks for your cooperation.)
Edited to add: I did finally get my ultrasound. Where she asked me to go pee first, since my bladder was too full. Of course. Once again, I was blown away by the stampeding sound of a 170 bpm heartbeat, and we got to see a tiny little spinal cord and strong beating heart of our tiny peanut. We're due 1/2/2012. My sister in law tells me that the Chinese Gender Chart says we'll be having a girl. It's been wrong every single time, so I'm hoping this means I get a little boy. 'Cause, dang, if I'm gonna have two kids less than 18 months apart, it could at least work out so Isaac has a little brother this close in age. :-)
If you ask a pregnant woman to consume 32 ounces of water an hour before an ultrasound appointment, then tell her to refrain from peeing, then leave her waiting out in the waiting room, not even acknowledging her presence, for 30 minutes past the time of her appointment (after telling her to arrive 15 minutes early) . . . that is just cruel and unusual punishment.
Sincerely,
An Irritated Pregnant Woman Whose Bladder Nearly Burst in the Middle of Your Freaking Waiting Room.
(Um yes, I'm pregnant. Crazy, right? Please say nothing but super supportive and encouraging things, like how two babies (less than) 18 months apart will be the best thing that ever happened to me, and how you're greatest, sweetest, favorite (although you'd never admit it), smartest, funnest, most loving child came from a completely unexpected pregnancy, and although you'd never have chosen to be pregnant again so soon (not in a million and a half years), it turned out to be the greatest thing ever. Thanks for your cooperation.)
Edited to add: I did finally get my ultrasound. Where she asked me to go pee first, since my bladder was too full. Of course. Once again, I was blown away by the stampeding sound of a 170 bpm heartbeat, and we got to see a tiny little spinal cord and strong beating heart of our tiny peanut. We're due 1/2/2012. My sister in law tells me that the Chinese Gender Chart says we'll be having a girl. It's been wrong every single time, so I'm hoping this means I get a little boy. 'Cause, dang, if I'm gonna have two kids less than 18 months apart, it could at least work out so Isaac has a little brother this close in age. :-)
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Exciting News . . .
I haven't mentioned this yet -- but in addition to my three adorable nephews, I'm gonna be a proud Aunt to a new niece or nephew come September. And no, my sister in law Liz did not have a frighteningly close unexpected pregnancy with a fourth :-) This time it's my sister Talina who'll be a new Mom. This is so exciting on so many levels. It'll be the first cousin for my kids on my side of the family, and Talina and David and "Little Talina" (as I'm currently calling the fetus) will be living within five miles of us. (The girls other cousins' are a big part of our lives via blogs, photos and videos and such -- but unfortunately live half way across the country from us, so we only get to see them once a year or so in person.)
Add to that, Talina's pregnancy was a bit, unexpected, to say the least. :-)
Some of you might know about my sister Talina's blog, where not too long ago, Talina and David announced their plan to adopt, since they'd received a pretty definitive 'infertile' diagnosis and all that by doctors. In fact, end of December, Talina's last blood work before officially announcing adoption, was unequivocally 'infertile'. With no hope of pregnancy without the use of IVF. Talina and David were excitedly moving forward with their adoption plans, with an unexpected positive pregnancy test threw a wrench in their plans :-)
Talina announced her pregnancy to the family by telling my poor Mother that they were no longer eligible for adoption . . . due to LDS Family Services' strict policy on not allowing pregnant women to adopt . . . :-)
In her third month of her 'miracle' pregnancy and Talina's feeling pretty good -- if she can ignore the crippling tiredness, and the finally subsiding nausea. :-) We're looking so forward to meeting our newest niece or nephew this fall! Congratulations Talina and David!
And yes, Talina thoroughly understands that anytime any 'helpful' person uses her story as a 'see what happens if you just sit back and relax/decide to adopt . . . you'll suddenly get pregnant' example with any other infertile couple, that said couple reserves the right to come and key her car. :-)
Add to that, Talina's pregnancy was a bit, unexpected, to say the least. :-)
Some of you might know about my sister Talina's blog, where not too long ago, Talina and David announced their plan to adopt, since they'd received a pretty definitive 'infertile' diagnosis and all that by doctors. In fact, end of December, Talina's last blood work before officially announcing adoption, was unequivocally 'infertile'. With no hope of pregnancy without the use of IVF. Talina and David were excitedly moving forward with their adoption plans, with an unexpected positive pregnancy test threw a wrench in their plans :-)
Talina announced her pregnancy to the family by telling my poor Mother that they were no longer eligible for adoption . . . due to LDS Family Services' strict policy on not allowing pregnant women to adopt . . . :-)
I love Ellie running up and throwing herself around Talina's leg in the video :-)
In her third month of her 'miracle' pregnancy and Talina's feeling pretty good -- if she can ignore the crippling tiredness, and the finally subsiding nausea. :-) We're looking so forward to meeting our newest niece or nephew this fall! Congratulations Talina and David!
And yes, Talina thoroughly understands that anytime any 'helpful' person uses her story as a 'see what happens if you just sit back and relax/decide to adopt . . . you'll suddenly get pregnant' example with any other infertile couple, that said couple reserves the right to come and key her car. :-)
Friday, July 16, 2010
Small World
I keep meaning to do an update -- with pictures and answers to lots of questions we've gotten about Isaac and our adjustment and his birth, etc.
But, Ellie just went down for a nap, and Annie's over playing with Grandpa at the Splash Park, and Isaac is still sleeping, and I'm gonna lay down and watch an episode of "Veronica Mars" while it's quiet . . . but I wanted to share one quick 'it's a small world' story about Isaac's birth.
Many of you know that my parents live just a few blocks from us. In Utah Mormon-dom, this means they live in the next Ward over. In my parent's Ward, my Mom spent 6 months being the 'birthday cookie person' . . . meaning she delivered a big cookie as a present whenever a woman in the Ward had a birthday. Months and months ago, she was over dropping off a cookie at a woman's house, and they got into a conversation. Turns out the woman was a labor and delivery nurse at the closest hospital. My Mom told her I was planning on delivering there, and maybe she'd introduce us beforehand, on the off chance she was there and my nurse whenever I delivered. She'd mentioned this to me, but I hadn't given it much thought until last night, when I was driving home from the hospital (after visiting my Mom, who was recovering (quite well) from surgery), through the part of my neighborhood that is part of my Mom's Ward. And I suddenly remembered a conversation with the nurse who delivered Isaac, an hour or so before he was born. I hadn't given it another thought until last night (since most of what I remember about that night, and my nurse, was the delivery), but we'd gotten into a conversation about where we lived, and were surprised to find out that Becky (the nurse) lived really close to me. Like, just two-streets-over-close. And last night it finally hit me (I'm slow) that Becky is the same nurse my Mom had talked to all those months ago.
So now my Mom is very excited now to go to Church on Sunday (although, not this Sunday, she did just have a hysterectomy after all) and find Becky and thank her for delivering her first grandson.
Small world, huh?
But, Ellie just went down for a nap, and Annie's over playing with Grandpa at the Splash Park, and Isaac is still sleeping, and I'm gonna lay down and watch an episode of "Veronica Mars" while it's quiet . . . but I wanted to share one quick 'it's a small world' story about Isaac's birth.
Many of you know that my parents live just a few blocks from us. In Utah Mormon-dom, this means they live in the next Ward over. In my parent's Ward, my Mom spent 6 months being the 'birthday cookie person' . . . meaning she delivered a big cookie as a present whenever a woman in the Ward had a birthday. Months and months ago, she was over dropping off a cookie at a woman's house, and they got into a conversation. Turns out the woman was a labor and delivery nurse at the closest hospital. My Mom told her I was planning on delivering there, and maybe she'd introduce us beforehand, on the off chance she was there and my nurse whenever I delivered. She'd mentioned this to me, but I hadn't given it much thought until last night, when I was driving home from the hospital (after visiting my Mom, who was recovering (quite well) from surgery), through the part of my neighborhood that is part of my Mom's Ward. And I suddenly remembered a conversation with the nurse who delivered Isaac, an hour or so before he was born. I hadn't given it another thought until last night (since most of what I remember about that night, and my nurse, was the delivery), but we'd gotten into a conversation about where we lived, and were surprised to find out that Becky (the nurse) lived really close to me. Like, just two-streets-over-close. And last night it finally hit me (I'm slow) that Becky is the same nurse my Mom had talked to all those months ago.
So now my Mom is very excited now to go to Church on Sunday (although, not this Sunday, she did just have a hysterectomy after all) and find Becky and thank her for delivering her first grandson.
Small world, huh?
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Birth Story and Baby Pictures
My birth story starts about a week or so before Isaac actually made his appearance. I was rapidly approaching my due date, and despite some 'good signs' wasn't going into labor. Now, obviously every woman starts to get antsy at this point. I think under normal circumstances, I would've been fairly chill about it -- I really truly believed that Isaac would come when he was ready, and I had no desire to be induced. Whether he came before or after his due date, it would be the right amount of time for him to have spent in the womb, and he'd come whenever his body and mine figured out it was time. One snag though -- my family (like, almost all of 'em, my parents, Talina, Star and Cody) were all leaving for Mexico on the 4th of July. The idea of my family not even being in the same country when I gave birth literally made me a little sick. I couldn't think about it much without getting upset. Star and I had talked for months about her being in the delivery room with me -- the first time I was going to have anyone other than Greg in there. My Mom and Dad live just a few blocks away and were posed and ready to easily run over to our house at any hour and watch the kids so Greg and I could make a hasty exit for the hospital when the time was right. As my due date approached, the clock was ticking. Then it passed, and I was constantly walking the clock, refiguring in my head each time how many hours I had to give birth before they'd leave. The morning of the Fourth, I said goodbye on the phone while they were waiting in the airport, hung up and started to cry. It hadn't happened. They really were going to be gone. I had run out of time.
I spent most of that day kinda down and sad. But, with them gone, a certain amount of pressure and stress lifted. I reminded myself often that many of my friends give birth in states far away from their loved ones, and in the long run, it does not matter if everyone 'meets' while still in the hospital.
(Oh, and if you're not comfortable with basic birthing terms like contractions, pushing and episiotomies, you might want to just skip down to the pictures.)
Monday morning I was feeling a lot better, but a new clock started to tick in my mind. Wednesday was the date my midwife had given me for an induction. Something I very much wanted to avoid. We drove an hour away for a family party with Greg's extended family, part of me hoping that Murphy's Law would insist that my labor start when I was as far away from the hospital as I'd been in weeks. But we returned home from a fun afternoon and took it easy for awhile. Around 6:30PM, I noticed some very light cramping and tightening that felt a little different than my normal Braxton Hicks. And, according to Greg's iPod Touch Labor Tracker app, they were coming every 3-10 minutes or so. I didn't take 'em very seriously though, 'cause I'd had some before, and these were so light that I could easily ignore them completely. Plus, in the past, they'd always fizzled out. Around 7:30 that night, my family got online and we chatted for almost an hour, they happily timed my mini-contractions from another country . . . my Mom kept telling me to get to the hospital already. They did get a bit annoyed though, when they started coming only every 10 minutes or so instead of every 5, like they had been. By 10ish that night, they'd really started to space out. I was barely noticing them, and only every 10-15 minutes at the most. We put a couple people on stand by, in case we needed middle of the night babysitters, and settled down for bed. By then, I was fairly convinced I'd fall asleep quickly and either wake up in the middle of the night to some stronger contractions, or wake up in the morning to find they had truly stopped. So, I was surprised when at 11PM as I was laying in bed, my water suddenly broke.
We had my brother in law David, who had been house sitting for my parents home just a few blocks a day, come over right away. We called Greg's parents to come over for the night to watch the girls (so they could relieve David in an hour or so and he could go back home, get rest and go to work in the morning). As we drove to the hospital, I kept waiting for the contractions to start up, and pick up in intensity since the cushion of the amniotic fluid was now gone. We got there, got into triage, and I was being checked out, and I kept thinking, "I hope they start soon," since all I was noticing was an occasional light cramp. So, I was surprised when she said I was dilated to nearly a 6. We got into a room, and I noticed a few more minor contractions while I got hooked up, settled in and met all the nurses. I met the midwife who'd be handling the delivery (mine couldn't be reached), and I instantly liked her and was excited when she said I didn't need an IV. She said as long as I was going natural, I was fine without either the IV or even the hep lock. She became my new best friend. Unfortunately, the slightly more nervous nurses soon decided that there were some slightly less reassuring things on the monitor with Isaac's heartrate, and they wanted to pump me back up with fluids so he'd have more volume going to him too. I was fine with that, and ended up with an IV. I would've been more disappointed about this if I'd been trying to get up and walk around and stay mobile like I'd originally planned, but I found all I wanted to do was curl up on my left side and try and relax as much as possible. Something I decided I could do with an IV in. Oh well. So, once we were left to ourselves, I returned to my headphones, curled up on my side and listened to my "Hypnobabies" tracks. I told Greg to go ahead and lay down and rest . . . things weren't picking up that much with my contractions, that while more uncomfortable, I could still relax through them mostly, and easily relax in between. At one point I noticed them becoming a little more frequent, but not much. After a little bit, I noticed that they were getting a bit more uncomfortable, and I couldn't relax through them anymore, I'd just tense up, so I called Greg over to come 'help' me, and he rubbed my back through one contraction. It felt great. He tried it again during the next contraction, and it made it worse. I told him I was getting nervous that I wasn't handling them as well as I wanted (that I wasn't able to relax through them), and then I sent him back over to the couch and just went back into my own world of listening to my iPod. I think now to the bag of 'comfort items' I packed, the birth ball still out in the car, the walking and swaying and leaning I'd planned on to deal with contractions, and the only thing that sounded appealing was curling up on my left side in bed. I called Greg back over after one contraction and told Greg that with all that fluid they were pumping into me, I wanted help getting into the bathroom. I had one or two contractions while in the bathroom and decided that I just wanted to get back into bed as quickly as possible, where contractions were far more comfortable. I was so much more comfortable there. We made it back to the bed, paged the nurse to come hook me back up, but before she had a chance to come in, I decided I wanted to go back into the bathroom. This entire time, I was carrying on conversations with Greg, I was talking about how things were feeling more intense, but I wasn't consumed by the contractions by any means. In fact, the nurse mentioned when she came in that maybe I needed to get up and walk around to get these contractions coming faster and more intense. Then she started explaining the privacy & safety policies to me while I got back in bed. I had a contraction at this point . . . I could hear her and even follow the conversation, but the contraction had the majority of my attention. Then about 10 seconds later I had another one. She was talking about the menu for tomorrow's lunch :-) Then as soon as that one finished I had another one. This one made me whimper and squirm around a bit more. She suddenly asked, "I wasn't going to check you yet, but maybe I should . . . " I agreed, and as she came towards me I suddenly cried out, "I think I'm pushing!" Sure enough, she checked and Isaac was crowning. I couldn't believe it, she hit the nurse call button and was calling for anyone who could come . . . two nurses made it in (we were in the room across the hall from the nurses station thankfully), there wasn't even time for her to drop down the bed or anything . . . and for all my stressing while preparing for labor about what position I would want to push in, turns out all I could do in this case was lay back on the bed and push -- he came all the way out the next contraction. The midwife was in the next room and couldn't make it over in time, and the OB on call couldn't get from across the labor and delivery ward in time. Isaac was delivered right onto the bed, with the nurse just sitting at the end of the bed. Right onto the sheets in front of me, I sat up immediately and the nurse helped me pick him up and I held him on my stomach. I think Greg and I were both in a bit of shock :-). It was amazing. The nurse had said there'd be a lot of pressure and then burning -- the pressure was definitely there -- I even screamed out for a few seconds with both pushes (more out of shock and effort than actual pain), but there was no real burning. I would even go as far as saying it wasn't painful . . . just intense and a lot of pressure. It was literally over in a minute or two, it was crazy. And as soon as he was out, it was like it was over. No pain, no discomfort, it was just over. And he was there. And it was one of the coolest things ever. I turned to Greg and said, in a bit of shock, "I would do that again. That wasn't that bad." The whole experience had gone better than my greatest hopes for labor -- as much as I'd practiced and relaxed and 'self-hypnotized' for a 'painless childbirth', I always expected it to hurt. Not beyond what I could handle, but to the point of sheer miserableness followed by a huge high of accomplishing it. Turns out, that for me it was intense at the end, but looking back, even as I was approaching transition nurses with decades of experience had no idea I was even in very active labor. (Here is where I should probably add a little disclaimer: I think I'm a freak. I don't think this is the norm, or something that anyone who listens to some relaxation CDs should expect -- but I do believe that just like women have different levels of menstrual cramps and whatnot, women have different experiences in labor. One of my reasons for wanting to go natural this go around, was a little nagging voice at the back of my head that said, "What if? Just what if you're one of those it isn't 'that bad' for, and you never try and never know." Weird, I know. But, turns out that voice had a point. I also believe that this being my third, and not first, was a HUGE part of the level of comfort/discomfort. Being a week overdue probably helped too, as my body was very prepared. Anyway, I don't think this is the 'norm' of natural childbirth or anything -- just a possibility that exists. And a very cool one to have personally experienced. Something I'm grateful for.) It was 1:37 now. We'd gotten into our room after midnight. Time had flown by, it hadn't felt like an hour and a half.
Anyway, I held him while the nurse delivered the afterbirth and got everything cleaned up, at this point we're waiting for the midwife to come check out everything. The nursery nurses made it in after Isaac was born, and his chart makes me laugh, where the nurse wrote something like, "We came in to find the baby laying on his mother's chest, already pink and wiggling. Other nurses there tell us his Apgar was an 8." I was shaking pretty hard by now though (which happened after my epidural births as well), and I gave the baby over to Greg and the nurses to go take care of cleaning him up a little and weighing him, so I could take a couple deep breaths and 'come down' a little in time for the midwife to come in and take care of a couple stitches. This was the first point where I missed the epidurals of my first two births -- I loved just holding and nursing my new babies while the doctors and nurses got everything patched up and cleaned and taken care of, while I obliviously cuddled my new babe. With the natural childbirth, the after stuff had a little bit more of my attention. :-) Nothing was really that bad, the stitches and stuff weren't nearly as bad as I'd psyched myself out for, it just took a bit of my attention. On the flip side, I loved being able to walk off the delivery bed and into the bathroom to take a quick shower right there in the labor and delivery room, then walk around the room rocking my baby before getting into the wheelchair to be taken to the Mom & Babies rooms. Sure beat dragging my numb legs and body from one bed into another and being wheeled around the hospital, unable to get out of bed for hours. Oh, the other 'epidural benefit' Greg and I noticed was picture taking -- we have dozens of pictures of the girls right after birth, and all of us together as a family, and with extended family in the delivery room with us afterwards. This time we were both still in shock and barely remembered to take pictures. We got like six. Then with it being the middle of the night, there weren't extended family pictures (plus, my family was still out of town.)
We eventually made it over to our room, and it was funny, 'cause every nurse who came in that first day 'knew who we were'. We were kinda famous at the hospital that night. The baby born with the midwife in the next room, who couldn't make it over in time.
Isaac on the scale. 8 lb. 1 ounce, 20 inches.
Much bigger than his sisters! (Annie - 6.5 lbs., Ellie 6lbs.)
This is first thing that morning, after I changed out of my hospital gown and got about an hour and a half's worth of sleep.
Annie, Ellie and Grandma Ruth showed up in the morning. You could hear Ellie calling, "Baby Isaac! Baby Isaac!" from the hallway. :-) Both girls were so excited to see him. Annie had Grandpa call us at 8AM to ask what color hair he had. She was quite disappointed it was dark, and not light like hers.
There were many interesting hair and accessory choices made over the few days Mom wasn't home . . .
Daddy, Isaac and Ellie
Isaac and Aunt Andrea
He was a huge fan of his fist that first day -- now he prefers the binkie.
When he's not nursing hourly :-)
Isaac and Uncle David
Mommy and Isaac cuddling
Annie loved holding her little brother, and was always anxious for her next turn . . .
Ellie was far more interested in climbing around the room like a monkey and eating saltines and cookies from the snack room . . .
Little baby feet
My kids
Ellie and I both sporting awesome hairdos . . . and Ellie running around naked. That was a tad embarrassing when she'd make a run for the snack room in nothing but a diaper . . .
Grandpa KC, Annie, Isaac and Grandma Ruth
Father and son
The girls both got new baby dolls as a present from their brother -- they basically spent the next hour fighting over baby doll accessories, whining about who got the better gift . . .
Isaac ready to leave the hospital.
Isaac and I right before we left.
My baby boy.
I spent most of that day kinda down and sad. But, with them gone, a certain amount of pressure and stress lifted. I reminded myself often that many of my friends give birth in states far away from their loved ones, and in the long run, it does not matter if everyone 'meets' while still in the hospital.
(Oh, and if you're not comfortable with basic birthing terms like contractions, pushing and episiotomies, you might want to just skip down to the pictures.)
Monday morning I was feeling a lot better, but a new clock started to tick in my mind. Wednesday was the date my midwife had given me for an induction. Something I very much wanted to avoid. We drove an hour away for a family party with Greg's extended family, part of me hoping that Murphy's Law would insist that my labor start when I was as far away from the hospital as I'd been in weeks. But we returned home from a fun afternoon and took it easy for awhile. Around 6:30PM, I noticed some very light cramping and tightening that felt a little different than my normal Braxton Hicks. And, according to Greg's iPod Touch Labor Tracker app, they were coming every 3-10 minutes or so. I didn't take 'em very seriously though, 'cause I'd had some before, and these were so light that I could easily ignore them completely. Plus, in the past, they'd always fizzled out. Around 7:30 that night, my family got online and we chatted for almost an hour, they happily timed my mini-contractions from another country . . . my Mom kept telling me to get to the hospital already. They did get a bit annoyed though, when they started coming only every 10 minutes or so instead of every 5, like they had been. By 10ish that night, they'd really started to space out. I was barely noticing them, and only every 10-15 minutes at the most. We put a couple people on stand by, in case we needed middle of the night babysitters, and settled down for bed. By then, I was fairly convinced I'd fall asleep quickly and either wake up in the middle of the night to some stronger contractions, or wake up in the morning to find they had truly stopped. So, I was surprised when at 11PM as I was laying in bed, my water suddenly broke.
We had my brother in law David, who had been house sitting for my parents home just a few blocks a day, come over right away. We called Greg's parents to come over for the night to watch the girls (so they could relieve David in an hour or so and he could go back home, get rest and go to work in the morning). As we drove to the hospital, I kept waiting for the contractions to start up, and pick up in intensity since the cushion of the amniotic fluid was now gone. We got there, got into triage, and I was being checked out, and I kept thinking, "I hope they start soon," since all I was noticing was an occasional light cramp. So, I was surprised when she said I was dilated to nearly a 6. We got into a room, and I noticed a few more minor contractions while I got hooked up, settled in and met all the nurses. I met the midwife who'd be handling the delivery (mine couldn't be reached), and I instantly liked her and was excited when she said I didn't need an IV. She said as long as I was going natural, I was fine without either the IV or even the hep lock. She became my new best friend. Unfortunately, the slightly more nervous nurses soon decided that there were some slightly less reassuring things on the monitor with Isaac's heartrate, and they wanted to pump me back up with fluids so he'd have more volume going to him too. I was fine with that, and ended up with an IV. I would've been more disappointed about this if I'd been trying to get up and walk around and stay mobile like I'd originally planned, but I found all I wanted to do was curl up on my left side and try and relax as much as possible. Something I decided I could do with an IV in. Oh well. So, once we were left to ourselves, I returned to my headphones, curled up on my side and listened to my "Hypnobabies" tracks. I told Greg to go ahead and lay down and rest . . . things weren't picking up that much with my contractions, that while more uncomfortable, I could still relax through them mostly, and easily relax in between. At one point I noticed them becoming a little more frequent, but not much. After a little bit, I noticed that they were getting a bit more uncomfortable, and I couldn't relax through them anymore, I'd just tense up, so I called Greg over to come 'help' me, and he rubbed my back through one contraction. It felt great. He tried it again during the next contraction, and it made it worse. I told him I was getting nervous that I wasn't handling them as well as I wanted (that I wasn't able to relax through them), and then I sent him back over to the couch and just went back into my own world of listening to my iPod. I think now to the bag of 'comfort items' I packed, the birth ball still out in the car, the walking and swaying and leaning I'd planned on to deal with contractions, and the only thing that sounded appealing was curling up on my left side in bed. I called Greg back over after one contraction and told Greg that with all that fluid they were pumping into me, I wanted help getting into the bathroom. I had one or two contractions while in the bathroom and decided that I just wanted to get back into bed as quickly as possible, where contractions were far more comfortable. I was so much more comfortable there. We made it back to the bed, paged the nurse to come hook me back up, but before she had a chance to come in, I decided I wanted to go back into the bathroom. This entire time, I was carrying on conversations with Greg, I was talking about how things were feeling more intense, but I wasn't consumed by the contractions by any means. In fact, the nurse mentioned when she came in that maybe I needed to get up and walk around to get these contractions coming faster and more intense. Then she started explaining the privacy & safety policies to me while I got back in bed. I had a contraction at this point . . . I could hear her and even follow the conversation, but the contraction had the majority of my attention. Then about 10 seconds later I had another one. She was talking about the menu for tomorrow's lunch :-) Then as soon as that one finished I had another one. This one made me whimper and squirm around a bit more. She suddenly asked, "I wasn't going to check you yet, but maybe I should . . . " I agreed, and as she came towards me I suddenly cried out, "I think I'm pushing!" Sure enough, she checked and Isaac was crowning. I couldn't believe it, she hit the nurse call button and was calling for anyone who could come . . . two nurses made it in (we were in the room across the hall from the nurses station thankfully), there wasn't even time for her to drop down the bed or anything . . . and for all my stressing while preparing for labor about what position I would want to push in, turns out all I could do in this case was lay back on the bed and push -- he came all the way out the next contraction. The midwife was in the next room and couldn't make it over in time, and the OB on call couldn't get from across the labor and delivery ward in time. Isaac was delivered right onto the bed, with the nurse just sitting at the end of the bed. Right onto the sheets in front of me, I sat up immediately and the nurse helped me pick him up and I held him on my stomach. I think Greg and I were both in a bit of shock :-). It was amazing. The nurse had said there'd be a lot of pressure and then burning -- the pressure was definitely there -- I even screamed out for a few seconds with both pushes (more out of shock and effort than actual pain), but there was no real burning. I would even go as far as saying it wasn't painful . . . just intense and a lot of pressure. It was literally over in a minute or two, it was crazy. And as soon as he was out, it was like it was over. No pain, no discomfort, it was just over. And he was there. And it was one of the coolest things ever. I turned to Greg and said, in a bit of shock, "I would do that again. That wasn't that bad." The whole experience had gone better than my greatest hopes for labor -- as much as I'd practiced and relaxed and 'self-hypnotized' for a 'painless childbirth', I always expected it to hurt. Not beyond what I could handle, but to the point of sheer miserableness followed by a huge high of accomplishing it. Turns out, that for me it was intense at the end, but looking back, even as I was approaching transition nurses with decades of experience had no idea I was even in very active labor. (Here is where I should probably add a little disclaimer: I think I'm a freak. I don't think this is the norm, or something that anyone who listens to some relaxation CDs should expect -- but I do believe that just like women have different levels of menstrual cramps and whatnot, women have different experiences in labor. One of my reasons for wanting to go natural this go around, was a little nagging voice at the back of my head that said, "What if? Just what if you're one of those it isn't 'that bad' for, and you never try and never know." Weird, I know. But, turns out that voice had a point. I also believe that this being my third, and not first, was a HUGE part of the level of comfort/discomfort. Being a week overdue probably helped too, as my body was very prepared. Anyway, I don't think this is the 'norm' of natural childbirth or anything -- just a possibility that exists. And a very cool one to have personally experienced. Something I'm grateful for.) It was 1:37 now. We'd gotten into our room after midnight. Time had flown by, it hadn't felt like an hour and a half.
Anyway, I held him while the nurse delivered the afterbirth and got everything cleaned up, at this point we're waiting for the midwife to come check out everything. The nursery nurses made it in after Isaac was born, and his chart makes me laugh, where the nurse wrote something like, "We came in to find the baby laying on his mother's chest, already pink and wiggling. Other nurses there tell us his Apgar was an 8." I was shaking pretty hard by now though (which happened after my epidural births as well), and I gave the baby over to Greg and the nurses to go take care of cleaning him up a little and weighing him, so I could take a couple deep breaths and 'come down' a little in time for the midwife to come in and take care of a couple stitches. This was the first point where I missed the epidurals of my first two births -- I loved just holding and nursing my new babies while the doctors and nurses got everything patched up and cleaned and taken care of, while I obliviously cuddled my new babe. With the natural childbirth, the after stuff had a little bit more of my attention. :-) Nothing was really that bad, the stitches and stuff weren't nearly as bad as I'd psyched myself out for, it just took a bit of my attention. On the flip side, I loved being able to walk off the delivery bed and into the bathroom to take a quick shower right there in the labor and delivery room, then walk around the room rocking my baby before getting into the wheelchair to be taken to the Mom & Babies rooms. Sure beat dragging my numb legs and body from one bed into another and being wheeled around the hospital, unable to get out of bed for hours. Oh, the other 'epidural benefit' Greg and I noticed was picture taking -- we have dozens of pictures of the girls right after birth, and all of us together as a family, and with extended family in the delivery room with us afterwards. This time we were both still in shock and barely remembered to take pictures. We got like six. Then with it being the middle of the night, there weren't extended family pictures (plus, my family was still out of town.)
We eventually made it over to our room, and it was funny, 'cause every nurse who came in that first day 'knew who we were'. We were kinda famous at the hospital that night. The baby born with the midwife in the next room, who couldn't make it over in time.
Here's Isaac and I right after birth -- I look a little shocked and very happy. And puffy, stupid IV fluids. :-)
Isaac on the scale. 8 lb. 1 ounce, 20 inches. Much bigger than his sisters! (Annie - 6.5 lbs., Ellie 6lbs.)
This is first thing that morning, after I changed out of my hospital gown and got about an hour and a half's worth of sleep.
Annie, Ellie and Grandma Ruth showed up in the morning. You could hear Ellie calling, "Baby Isaac! Baby Isaac!" from the hallway. :-) Both girls were so excited to see him. Annie had Grandpa call us at 8AM to ask what color hair he had. She was quite disappointed it was dark, and not light like hers.
There were many interesting hair and accessory choices made over the few days Mom wasn't home . . .
Daddy, Isaac and Ellie
Isaac and Aunt Andrea
He was a huge fan of his fist that first day -- now he prefers the binkie.When he's not nursing hourly :-)
Isaac and Uncle David
Mommy and Isaac cuddling
Annie loved holding her little brother, and was always anxious for her next turn . . .
Ellie was far more interested in climbing around the room like a monkey and eating saltines and cookies from the snack room . . .
Little baby feet
My kids
Ellie and I both sporting awesome hairdos . . . and Ellie running around naked. That was a tad embarrassing when she'd make a run for the snack room in nothing but a diaper . . .
Grandpa KC, Annie, Isaac and Grandma Ruth
Father and son
The girls both got new baby dolls as a present from their brother -- they basically spent the next hour fighting over baby doll accessories, whining about who got the better gift . . .
Isaac ready to leave the hospital.
Isaac and I right before we left.
My baby boy.
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
He's Here!
Isaac was the talk of the hospital last night (well, and me, I was pretty famous too). Our perfect 8 lb. 1 oz. little boy joined us quite dramatically in the middle of the night. Once that kid decided he was done stalling for 5 or 6 days, things moved pretty quickly. So quickly in fact, that one second the nurse is explaing tomorrow's lunch menu to me, and the next she is catching Isaac on the bed. No time to get the doctor or midwife, no time to even 'set up' the bed or room. Just a couple nurses made it in time to witness his birth, and that's only 'cause we were in the room closest to the nurses' desk. The nursery staff came running in to find the baby already cuddled up on my chest and crying.
I'll post pictures soon, as well as a bit more of Isaac's story, but for now I'm just happy to share that he's here, he's gorgeous and we're both doing well!
I'll post pictures soon, as well as a bit more of Isaac's story, but for now I'm just happy to share that he's here, he's gorgeous and we're both doing well!
Sunday, July 4, 2010
Still Gestating
This kid's a bit stubborn. I guess one of your kids has to be your latest, I just hadn't expected to go several days overdue after having one baby on her due date and one two weeks early. Isaac also appears to be very unpatriotic, as he didn't even TRY to come today and be a 4th of July baby :-)
Wish me luck tomorrow! I think I'm gonna be kind of annoyed if Greg has the whole day off tomorrow for the holiday and the baby doesn't come . . . it'll be like a wasted free day :-)
Trying hard to be patient . . . :-)
Wish me luck tomorrow! I think I'm gonna be kind of annoyed if Greg has the whole day off tomorrow for the holiday and the baby doesn't come . . . it'll be like a wasted free day :-)
Trying hard to be patient . . . :-)
Friday, July 2, 2010
Lagoon & the Fair
So, in the last couple weeks, my kids will have had a lot of fun riding various rides. We went to Lagoon and to a local community fair in the past few weeks (but I'd brought my older, smaller camera, and I totally forgot to download pictures until last night). The girls are surprisingly daring . . . they wanted to ride every ride they were big enough for, and sad to not be able to ride some they were too short for.
This swing was a little more intense than the Lagoon one, and Annie LOVED it! Ellie was quite angry she didn't get to ride it, and pouted and refused to go on almost every other ride until she begrudgingly agreed to go ride the train again while Annie was on the swings.
Ellie getting her face painted/stamped. She seems unsure.
But she did think it was cool enough once it was done.
Mmmmm, free Otter Pops.
And yes, I'm still pregnant. And overdue. Let's not talk about it. :-)
Ellie's favorite ride at Lagoon -- Moonraker. This is the ride when she came running to me afterward giggling, the lady standing by me, thoroughly impressed, said, "Oh my, she's so brave for her age!" "Thanks," I smiled, "she does seem to be having fun today!" "What is she, like 15 months old?" "Oh, no, she's two years old . . . "
I'm guessing two years old is less impressive :-)
I'm guessing two years old is less impressive :-)
Annie loved the swings -- even though she had to ride them by herself. She had to ride a lot of rides by herself, since Ellie was too small and I was too pregnant. She'd sit by complete strangers and smile and laugh the whole time. 
Ellie and Annie definitely loved running through the water fountains. I loved it, 'cause after several hours of being at Lagoon, soaking wet children meant it was time to go home. :-)
Ellie and Annie definitely loved running through the water fountains. I loved it, 'cause after several hours of being at Lagoon, soaking wet children meant it was time to go home. :-)
Then last week, we went to our local fair, where Grandma Karine spoiled the girls and bought handfuls of ride and game tickets.
This swing was a little more intense than the Lagoon one, and Annie LOVED it! Ellie was quite angry she didn't get to ride it, and pouted and refused to go on almost every other ride until she begrudgingly agreed to go ride the train again while Annie was on the swings.
Ellie getting her face painted/stamped. She seems unsure.
But she did think it was cool enough once it was done.
Mmmmm, free Otter Pops.
And yes, I'm still pregnant. And overdue. Let's not talk about it. :-)
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Annie's Take on Her Baby-Brother-to-Be
Annie today was telling me how excited she is to meet her new little brother (hear that Isaac, Mom's not the only one getting antsy, feel free to show up anytime now!) She's told me that she thinks he'll have brown eyes, like her and Mommy, not hazel like Daddy's and Ellie's. She also told me today that she's pretty sure he'll have light hair, "Then four people in our family will have light hair, and only one person will have dark . . . [sad sigh] . . . poor Mom." She talks to my stomach, telling baby Isaac how excited we are to meet him, and about all the fun things we'll do together when he's born. She loves to sing and talk to her little brother, telling him stories about the world outside Mom's tummy.
Ellie's a bit more forward. She came up to my stomach this morning, poked it hard and shouted, "OUT!"
I'm with Ellie on this one. :-)
(Oh, and I had a couple hours of mildly painful contractions that kept me up for several hours last night. Then I finally got to sleep, and nothing has happened since. Except I've been a bit more impatient than normal since I'm freakishly tired now.)
Ellie's a bit more forward. She came up to my stomach this morning, poked it hard and shouted, "OUT!"
I'm with Ellie on this one. :-)
(Oh, and I had a couple hours of mildly painful contractions that kept me up for several hours last night. Then I finally got to sleep, and nothing has happened since. Except I've been a bit more impatient than normal since I'm freakishly tired now.)
Sunday, June 27, 2010
Still Nothin'
Despite all the 'it could be any time now' signs on Friday, I've felt nothing giving me the slightest inkling I'll go into labor ever since. Part of me feels bad about letting myself get antsy about it this weekend -- I'm still a few days from my due date, so I can't even complain about being 'late' yet (and even then, I'm a firm believer that 40 weeks isn't an 'expiration date', but merely an estimate in which the actual event could happen on either side of) . . . but dang, I really, really, really wanted it to be this weekend. I wanted to not have to stress over 'is it time to call Greg home from work or not!?' during the week. Also, my sister Lacy can come into town only twice this summer -- and she's here tonight. I really wanted her to see the baby before he was a month or so old.
I guess there's still time -- but I'm gonna try really hard not to be disappointed if/when it doesn't happen 'til my due date or later . . . :-)
I guess there's still time -- but I'm gonna try really hard not to be disappointed if/when it doesn't happen 'til my due date or later . . . :-)
Saturday, June 26, 2010
It Almost Feels Like Progress
Around 8PM last night, I was kinda surprised when one of my typically painless Braxton Hicks started to hurt a little as things tightened and cramped. Then it faded and I wondered if it had been anything more than a tight ligament or a sore muscle. Then about 15 minutes later, it happened again, this time tightening all the way into my back. Then again. Then again. 'Til about 9PM. Then it stopped completely for the rest of the night and I've felt nothing since.
This baby likes messing with my head. :-)
I'd really hoped for a minute that all my cleaning, mowing the lawn and scrubbing the fridge had paid off . . . but not yet. We're probably not too far off though, right?
This baby likes messing with my head. :-)
I'd really hoped for a minute that all my cleaning, mowing the lawn and scrubbing the fridge had paid off . . . but not yet. We're probably not too far off though, right?
Friday, June 25, 2010
Busy Day
Today was a lot of fun -- my wonderful neighbors threw me a baby shower and I had so much fun visiting and laughing with everyone, not to mention feeling spoiled with all the great little boy clothes, blankets and gadgets we got! (I'll have more of the shower, with pictures, a little later.)
Then I came home and mowed the front lawn. I think Greg was a bit annoyed with me when I told him what I was doing over the phone. He said to wait 'til he got off work and he'd do it when he got home. I told him he was just nervous about getting crap from the neighbors about his 39+ week pregnant wife mowing the lawn. :-) I finished all the laundry, vacuumed, got caught up on all the dishes, and even scrubbed out every square inch of the refrigerator. And yet, the baby did not get the message, and seems to be comfortably settling in for a long night of no labor. :-)
Then I came home and mowed the front lawn. I think Greg was a bit annoyed with me when I told him what I was doing over the phone. He said to wait 'til he got off work and he'd do it when he got home. I told him he was just nervous about getting crap from the neighbors about his 39+ week pregnant wife mowing the lawn. :-) I finished all the laundry, vacuumed, got caught up on all the dishes, and even scrubbed out every square inch of the refrigerator. And yet, the baby did not get the message, and seems to be comfortably settling in for a long night of no labor. :-)
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