Birth story for Paul: Making straight my paths

This really is the final installment of Paul's birthstory.  While I've already told about his birth, meeting his siblings and the hospital stay...the bottom line is that his story extends into the following week of his life.

The first four parts:

• The beginning
• The actual birth
• Meeting the other kids
• The dreaded hospital stay

The original plan for when Paul was born was for William to take 3 days off.  His mom was going to stay that week.  We would take a week off together as a family over spring break.

I wasn't crazy about this plan.

For one thing, I wasn't crazy about being left home with his mom so much.  She's a sweet lady, but we simply do not have a lot to say to one another.  This makes for a lot of staring.

I wasn't crazy about William not being home in general.  For Rebekah, he took off 2 wks.  For the other two, he took off 3.  So I was mourning the fact that wasn't happening this time around.

If you recall, I mentioned that God told me everything would work out that night when He informed me I was indeed in labor.

So a few things happened that week that were simply miraculous to me.

First - Rebekah did not miss a single day of school (as I had anticipated) for the birth of Paul.  She was already out of school Mon and Tue for inservice days.  So that was actually pretty nice.  I'm not opposed to pulling kids out of school, but I do try to limit it.

Second - William was home for 4 out of 5 days that week.  For someone who hardly wanted to take 2 days off, this was pretty amazing.  Wed-Thur there was a record snowfall.  Roads were so bad on Thur, that only the absolute necessary folks went into work.  (That was one tech.)  William was able to WFH which allowed him to also avoid burning a vacation day.  It was nice having him there.  He would have stayed home Wed, but some "C-type" folks were in town (CFO, COO..etc etc) and he had to meet with them.  So things worked perfectly that he was able to meet with them AND he got to be home more than originally anticipated.

Third - it didn't snow that weekend.  If it had, my MIL would have ended up staying who knows how much longer.  It cleared up just enough for her to get home at the scheduled departure time.

Fourth - both my MIL and Mom were helpful.  I was pretty grateful my MIL ended up staying the week.  (It was a last minute decision on our part.  My original intention was to not have the additional house guest.)  I can't explain why we changed our mind - too much to go into - but looking back I truly was grateful she was there with the additional hands and that she was actually helpful.  My mom was super helpful too.  This is...well...rare.  She has good intentions but she is also super busy so often things don't work out.  They both got to the bottom of Mnt. Laundryopolis in my basement - which I had found to be overwhelming.  There were extra baby clothes to wash on top of all the normal laundry that I do on Sundays.  It was a lot and they tackled it.

Lastly - I had been praying for a positive hospital stay experience.  I wanted to fondly remember Paul's birth without any bad memories attached.  He's my caboose.  I wanted to end on a positive note.  A lot happened at Ruth's birth that I've not ever written about (nor will I ever) that deeply saddened me.  We had planned everything possible that we could to avoid any repeats - but there was only so much planning we could do.  Much of it was up to other people and the decisions that they choose.  So I prayed - because outside of the planning only God could help with the rest.  And He did.  I truly had a positive experience and He made straight my paths just has He promised that night as I was laying in bed denying that labor was starting.

Oh - and Rebekah's concert that I was so worried about?  It was post poned even further due to the snow.  So I didn't have to take a 1 week old baby out and attend a concert.  I was grateful for that too.

I'm thankful for this little guy and I'm excited for the things that God has in store for him.

Birth story for Paul: The dreaded hospital stay

The hospital stay is the absolute worst part about giving birth (for me).  I would totally do it at home if a) my OB would come to my house and b) it wouldn't freak William out.  :-P  The first three I had gone to a hospital across town.  This time I had the choice between that hospital and the hospital where William works.  So I weighed the pros and cons.

Hospital A:
- I was familiar with it.
- There are queen size beds in the recovery rooms, providing William a reasonable place to sleep.
- ...

Hospital B:
- William works there
- No bed for William (a futon - that he would NOT have fit on)
- Had a great rep for excellent nurses

I asked William his thoughts.  He said it didn't matter to him.  The plan was already for him to go home at night.  This would allow him to be able to easily get the kids ready in the morning to come visit.

Two out of 3 nursing experiences at Hospital A were...horrible and the last was great with a mediocre chaser (my L&D nurse was awesome, but once I left there...I was surrounded by mediocrity at best nursing).  My initial thought was to stick with what I knew - but when I really thought about it, I decided that there was really no reason to return to the familiar.  My chances of having another horrible nursing experience seemed pretty high to me.

So I chose Hospital B.  I didn't feel I had anything to lose really and everything to gain.

My hospital stay didn't disappoint.  While there were a few things I didn't care for (like asking me about my full meal plan for my entire stay with in a couple hours after giving birth...I kid you not).  But the nursing did not disappoint.  The quality of care I received was so excellent that I felt in some instances, the care at the hospital was sub-par.  (You know how you think you have had a certain kind of experience...but it is all you know...and then you have another and you realize that first was worse than you thought?)

There was a nurse in my room post-recovery nearly all day.  They poked and prodded on me frequently, but it was ok and completely necessary.  I had the same nurse all day.  She was friendly, sweet and completely professional.  Just plain awesome.  And when my nurse did change, they came in and introduced themselves.  I also noticed that everyone who entered my room asked me if I needed anything - no matter who they were or what their job role was.

The day went by quickly with people in and out of my room.  You know in the movies when time passes they show people walking along a sidewalk in a fast forward fashion?  It felt a little like that.  My focus was wrapping my head around the fact that this baby was here, it was a boy and his name was Paul.

Paul has been an unusual baby from the start.  That day, instead of sleeping like most babies, he was highly awake and alert.  He was already turning his head and lifting it up to look around.  To top it off, Paul is probably the best nurser "straight out of the chute" that I've ever had.  He nursed every 2 hrs for 30-45 min at a whack.  I had nothing better to do and didn't mind a bit.  Plus those early nursing session can be so important to setting up for a successful nursing relationship.

That night, my new nurse came in to introduce herself.  She was by far my favorite nurse.  You would think a night nurse couldn't  receive such high praise - but she totally deserved it.  We chatted a bit (in which she again mentioned she heard I had 'quite the morning'!!) and I learned she had 2 small kids at home and she was a fan of nursing.  She told me that she needed to check me again around midnight.  This angel of a woman then told me that I had the choice of calling her to let her know when I was awake around then OR she could just come in and check me every 4 hrs (or whatever).

Um, yes please.

I settled down for the night, expecting a pretty good sleep.  That first night is usually pretty quiet since the newborns are in their just-being-born-stupor.  I was looking forward to some rest, because I hadn't gotten too much since I woke up at 2 AM.  I turned off the TV, placed a snuggly swaddled and sleeping Paul into his little bassinet thing and settled down. About 2 minutes later, the snuggly swalddled and sleeping Paul woke up in full force.

I took him out, nursed him a bit until he again fell asleep and put him back.  Rinse and repeat.  I gave up around 10:30 and attempted to sleep sitting up.  It wasn't a great sleep, but I was getting more than I would have otherwise.  So I place him such that he wouldn't roll and nodded off a bit.  It was a very unrestful sleep...did I mention that?

I finally called the nurse around 1 AM.  I was awake at midnight, but I was curious if she'd come in anyway. :)  She came in a few minutes later and apologized for not being there immediately.  I was a little surprised at that, because she didn't really take that long in my opinion.  She poked on me, took my temp and blood pressure and then said "I don't think you need that, how about we take it out?" pointing to my IV.

I hate the IV.  They always leave my arm sore for at least a week post-birth.  (This time it was 2.)  I also have a small allergic reaction to the glue used on the tape.  If left on too long, I get a nice rash.  (Happens with all medical adhesive stuff...)  At Hospital A the nurses always refused to take it out until right before I left.  I was told that it was a "precautionary" measure "in case something happens".  Right.  I didn't bother asking this time around, since I had been shot down for all the other kids.  Imagine my surprise when the nurse asked if it was OK if she took it out?  "You'll probably sleep better without it." she told me.

I really didn't need any convincing.

I tried a few more times to put Paul in the bassinet, but it appears that he hates to sleep flat.  (We are still trying to figure out a good sleeping arrangement that works for both of us.)  I'm sure he will outgrow it soon enough.

I got a hospital picture of the family this time!

William and the kids showed up around 8 the next morning.  The kids ran around like hooligans until I was able to leave at noon.

All in all, I was happy I chose Hospital B.  If I were given the choice again, I'd make the same decision.  I still hate the hospital stays, but the nurses really made it bearable.

About the only other thing I disliked at the hospital was the over utilization of the phone.  I've never had to use the phone so much.  Awful.  I hated answering it and half the time it would get moved to where I couldn't reach it.  I was left scrambling to get it several times.  And let's not forget my basic dislike of phones in general.  I barely answer my phone! :)

One other thing I liked - the room itself had a nice little waiting area where family/guests could go whenever they needed to get out.  I don't mind kicking adults out and letting them stand around awkwardly in hallways.  However, the room was super nice for kids (chairs and a tv were included in that room).  I know that keeping my kids corralled is a job in and of itself.  So having the room was great so that all of these kind people who were corralling the children for me had an easier time of it.

I'm glad my hospital stay wasn't dreadful.  It is a miracle in my mind.  I prayed over it heavily because a lot went wrong with the hospital stay at Ruth's birth.  Everything went smoothly and I have positive memories - priceless.

Birth story for Paul: Meeting the other kids

One thing I've done for each and every child is that the kids are the FIRST to meet their new sibling.  I've had a yearning for a family that is close.  The healthy kind of close.  The kind of close that you know that you can rely on one another no matter what.  That you love one another no matter what.  That you can support one another through anything.

And a great start is being the FIRST to welcome one another into the world.  There is something to be said of firsts.  So absolutely unequivocally the kids are the first (besides William and myself) to meet the new baby.

We gave Jan a call to let her know she was free to come whenever.  And she got there pretty quick.  I felt bad because we had to delay letting them in due to me being checked...and I can't recall what else.  It felt like forever - but my sense of time was pretty off.

Finally William went to get them.  He walked in and asked each of the kids what their guess was.  Rebekah guessed girl.  Peter guessed boy.  Ruth guessed girl.

William smiled and said "Well, two of you are wrong."  Peter thought about it for a moment.  William said he could see the smile spread across Peter's face as he realized HE was right.  His face erupted into overflowing joy and he exclaimed "YES!" complete with a fist pump.

They made their way back to the room to meet little Paul. 

I was still in a bit of a haze, but my recollection was simply that Peter was smitten, Ruth was excited and Rebekah was playing it cool.  I think Rebekah tried hard to not be in love - but love won out.

I think the pictures speak for themselves. 

They watched Paul get cleaned up.  Peter was right there in the mix.  Ruth stood looking at me, not really sure what to think.  She was concerned about the IV line, but wasn't afraid.  (Rebekah was terrified of it when Peter was born - wouldn't come near me. I was happy Ruth was scared like that.)  Rebekah sat on the couch, a quiet observer in it all.

I tried to pay attention to it all, but it was hard. There was a lot going on in the room. And honestly, it is amazing to me how hazy everything was.  But this sticks out.  Jan had an amazing story to tell me.

She said that this particular weekend her son had a college wrestling tournament.  She had thought about attending, but then he was sick...and so she had thought he wouldn't wrestle.  He had ended up getting better in time to wrestle, but she still felt she shouldn't go.  Saturday was a very chaotic day for her.  Overly chaotic.  The kind that would make you wonder if you could squeeze one more thing in.  And Sunday looked to be busy too.  God woke her up at 5 AM on Sunday to tell her that things would be just fine, they would work out, and that this baby was coming today.

Isn't that amazing?  Hearing this and a related story where God woke up my mom and told her that the baby was coming AND that it would be a boy...made me feel a little like Mary - in that God announced this baby's arrival.  I've been pondering Mary and her thoughts on motherhood for awhile.  So I've been trying to treasure every moment.  I kind of wonder what she thought when she got all her visitors?  The Bible doesn't say - but it would be a confirmation that the Lord's plan is playing out.  She might have been a woman of great faith - but everyone gets shaken up now and again.  And sometimes the Lord sends us encouragement ahead of time, so that we can remind ourselves of it later when we need it.

For me - it was just a reminder that having this baby earlier than my plans was OK.  God knew it was going to be this way.  He has things worked out for my best interest.  And He was going to continue to show this to me for the rest of the week.

We all hung out and I soaked it all in.

Next up:  My overall hospital stay.

Birth story for Paul: The actual birth

So last time I left off, I was waiting in the car.  Our dear friend, Jan, showed up.

By the time she showed up, I was in a bit of a panic.  Between the blood (I hadn't seen that with the other 3...although 2 of them don't really count since they were induced!) and the doctor asking me when I had last felt the baby move...I started to wonder if everything was ok.  I was keeping it cool on the outside, but on the inside I was a mess.  I just wanted to be hooked up the monitors and hear the little heart beat.

I did make William call her once to find out how far away she was.  If she was far enough, I thought I'd go ahead and load up the kids (I had made the older two get dressed just in case) and have her meet us at the hospital if need be.  But I was trying to be patient.  I didn't want to alarm the kids at all.  I told William a few times I was worried.  I think I said exactly..."I'm trying to not panic, but I'm worried about the safety of the baby."  And he didn't know why and I didn't explain - mostly because I didn't want HIM to panic.  :-)

So I sat in the car and waited, quietly praying.

Jan finally arrived and I had never been so happy to see someone arrive.  William told her a few things (we had food to donate for a drive this morning...things that HAD to go to church that day or they would be useless!) and we were off.

Jan told me later that she had been there for awhile when Peter looked up from his game and said "Hey, why are YOU here?"  (We had told him.)  I thought that was funny - clearly he wasn't paying attention to us!  And he hadn't even noticed us leaving.  Obviously I didn't panic the kids either.

As William pulled out I said "Don't take Central.  Take Kellogg!  Don't drive like a grandpa.  But don't drive crazy either.  Get us to the hospital safely and quickly!"  He was rather compliant though and didn't get mad at my rather poignant instructions. :-)  (I don't normally give him driving instructions and normally me doing so would just make him mad.  But of course we weren't in a normal situation either!)  We even passed up a cop who was out with his radar.  I'd say that was a win.

We arrived and I walked in.

I'd like to take a moment to reiterate that I was pretty calm.  I spoke calmly to the receptionist.  I filled out paperwork.  After a couple sheets I told her "I'm feeling light headed.  This will have to be the last one standing up."  William actually took over filling out paperwork from there, asking me a few questions here and there.

"When was the last time you felt the baby move?"
"Last night around 11 PM."

The receptionist was over there in a flash.  "You haven't felt the baby move since last night?"  I replied that I hadn't.

She hurried back to her desk and got on the phone speaking in a low voice.  "Yes, she hasn't felt the baby move since last night." I heard her tell someone.

This didn't help my worries any.

William finished up the paperwork and turned it in.  It suddenly dawned on me that I hadn't taken a belly shot yet.  I had been meaning too - it was on my list of stuff to get done.  I pulled out my camera and told William to take one there.  So he did.

About an hour before Paul was born!

I had planned on standing for my belly shot - but I was exhausted...and I wasn't interested in standing.  Plus I sat down for a reason to begin with.  So a sit down shot it was.

A nurse came back.  "So you haven't felt the baby move since last night?"  I again told her no.  So she walked me back to a room.  I got into the classic hospital nightgown (to which she reminded me to leave my underwear off...that always cracks me up...do some women really forget?) and she hooked me up.

Thump thump thump thump thump thump thump...

It was music to my hears.  I immediately felt at ease and relaxed.  She hooked up the contraction monitor.  "Wow!  You are having a lot of contractions!  What would you rate your pain at this moment?"

Well...they had certainly gotten more intense.  I thought about it a moment and told her 3.  Then we discussed an epidural.  She asked me if I wanted to go ahead and get one.  I remembered Ruth's birth - how things went quickly when they started ramping up. I told her I'd like to go ahead and get one.  They usually take an hour, so I wanted to make sure there was time.

Order of details are a little fuzzy.  So I may have mixed some things up.  All these events happened - just perhaps not in this order.  But this is how I remember them through the fog.

My doctor came in and we spoke for a few minutes.  He said if I didn't think there was time for an epidural we could do something else.  I shrugged my shoulders - I really didn't know how much time we had.  He smiled and said "Ready to have this baby?"

Well ready or not...

Everyone had stepped out for a moment.  It was just William and I in the room.  "Should I call my parents?" he asked.

Believe it or not - I was still in a bit of denial.

"Well, let's see how things go."  I'm not sure I'm staying...I thought to myself.

A few moments passed (I don't really have a good grasp on time at this point to be honest) and then...my water broke.  It was the first time I've ever experienced my water breaking naturally.  With the other 3 it was broken by the doctor.  The sensation - well it was fascinating.  It was so powerful that not only did I feel it but I heard it.  The 'pop' and then 'woosh'.  This is as best as I can describe it.  I know I didn't literally hear it - but it was really that intense of a feeling.  Not painful in anyway shape or form.

The nurse walked back in and I smiled at her.  "I believe my water just broke!" I told her.

She hadn't checked me yet anyway so she took the time to do so.  "Uh...yeah your water broke.  And you are a 6!" she said.

Another nurse started getting my IV in.  "Oh I feel nauseous!" I said.  The nurse started to tell me it was normal to feel that way.  "No no!  I'm about to throw up!"  They gave me a tub just in time.  I'm glad - because I already felt gross from my water breaking.  I told William to go ahead and call his parents..."BUT NO CHIT CHAT! Make it quick!" I told him.


This folks is a record - he made the call and talked to them for a sum total of 2 minutes.

From this point, the contractions really started to kick into high gear.  It didn't take long for my pain level to shoot from that measly 3 straight to an 8.  I made mention of this to the nurse.  "Yes, since you water broke there is no cushion!"

The anesthesiologist came in.  I actually didn't realize that was who this person was for quite some time. By 'quite some time' I mean...that night in the quiet of my room as I thought about the events of the day.  To me it was just some medical person.  She began asking me a zillion questions.  I had to defer to William to answer them at this point because it was rather difficult to talk through those pain-level-8 contractions.  I did hear someone tell someone else I that I was 'contracting like crazy'.  I'd agree with this assessment.

She finally had me get on my side - no small task.  Then scoot to the edge of the bed - again, no small task.  Then of course she asked me to curl into a ball.

Yeah - that was impossible.

A nurse helped me curl up enough for the anesthesiologist...when all of a sudden I felt it.  I recognized the sensation from Ruth's birth. (I hadn't felt it with Peter or Rebekah for some reason.)  This was...transition.  "FORGET THE EPIDURAL!  THIS BABY IS COMING!" I shouted.  This sent everyone into a scurry.

I was actually focused on not pushing.  I wanted to wait for my doctor.  But quite frankly - there are simply some things that you cannot control.  This would be one of them.  So a push, an involuntary "AHHHH" (seriously...I couldn't help it?) and then I blurted out "I'm so sorry!"

I'm still on my side at this point.

I hear in the background "Get the doctor!  He's in the building!"  I hear them mention this several times.  "Yes please get him!" I'm thinking.

Whenever you are about to have a baby - it is absolutely amazing how the room fills up with all kinds of people that you don't know and have never seen.  I have no idea what half of them were for.  When Ruth was born - it happened pretty quick too. And the room was much emptier because no one had time to get in there.  So just the absolutely essential people were there.  My doctor, a nurse or two and really not many more.

This time...well...it went even faster.  The room consisted of 3 nurses and William.

"YOU NEED TO ROLL OVER!" someone told me.  Why yes - that made sense.  Whoever heard of delivering a baby on your side?  There was another involuntary push - and then the head was out.  I can't recall if I rolled over on my side before or after this.

But the relief...oh the sweet relief.  Once his little head was out the pain was all but gone.  "Just one more push and this baby will be born!" someone told me.  I actually did wonder why not wait another moment...the doctor still hadn't arrived.  But I pushed as instructed.

The sensation of having the baby without an epidural...well, indescribable.  There are simply no words.  But it is something I hope to never forget.

I worried for a moment if the baby was caught properly - but it was only a moment.

"It's a BOY!" someone said.

"I just gave birth without an epidural?" was all I could think...and say.  No really - I said that out loud.  There was some laughter in the room and a "Yes you did!  You did great!"

How faithful God is.

I was later told that I had been hooked up to the monitors at 8:15.  Paul Edward was born at 8:55 AM weighing in at 8 lb 1 oz and 20 inches tall.

Skin to skin!  This hospital was pretty big on that!
Part of my dismissal instructions even included doing
skin to skin an hour a day!

The doctor rushed in (William said he was a bit out of breath, so he had been running - I honestly didn't notice), checked me out, apologized for missing the birth (profusely) and gave me a couple stitches.

For the rest of the day every nurse that came in my room made comments about how I had a crazy morning. Things like "I heard you had quite the morning!"  It was mentioned so much all day long, I got the picture I must have been the water cooler gossip for the day.  I could only imagine what was said, but it didn't really matter to me.  The comments were all made with a smile and a glint in the eye.  I don't think it is every day a woman walks in, gives birth sans epidural and doctor.  :-P

Next up:  Kids meet the new baby!

Birth story for Paul: The beginning

Fair warning - there will be details not for the squimish. :-)

I was planning on the birth of this baby happening later.  I figured I had at least until 39 wks.  And so that is pretty much where I was at.  Saturday I spent sorting clothes trying to find all the baby clothes.  I planned on washing them and then putting them away - girl clothes in one drawer, boy in another.  I didn't get to the washing part.  This activity pretty much exhausted me.  I had planned on getting laundry done on Sunday...

Plans plans plans.  So Sunday William was going to lead worship (the regular leader was sick).  I was going to teach Sunday school.  I had planned on lunch with a friend.  William was going to go golfing.  I was most worried about the lunch with the friend.  She's great...but I've been so tired that taking all 3 kids out by myself (even though my friend is SO VERY helpful!) seemed like a huge task.  All I could think about was how I'd need a nap afterwards! :-)

Those were the plans just for Sunday.  I had plans on Monday with the kids (Rebekah was out of school).  I had plans at work of a few things I really wanted to get done before my leave.

The doctor appointment that Wednesday the doctor joked we ought to schedule the next appointment, because he didn't want to 'jinx anything'.  So I half jokingly told my coworkers "ANY DAY NOW!".  Really, I thought I still had another week or so.  *sigh*  That is what I get for thinking!

So...I had plans. 

Sunday morning at 2 AM Ruth got up.  This isn't unusual for her.  I swap between making William get out of bed and simply doing it myself.  (Sometimes it takes more effort to make William...but there is a certain principle there too! :-) )  He has been battling a cold, so I chose to do it myself and let him sleep.  I simply marched her back to bed and took the opportunity to pee - hoping I'd sleep soundly the rest of the night.  As I snuggled back in bed, I realized I was uncomfortable.  I laid there awhile trying to figure out why I was uncomfortable.  I realized I had some braxton's going on.  I waited for them to settle down and they didn't.  So I got up and drank a cup of water and walked around a bit.  I tried laying down again.  I simply couldn't fall asleep.

Dear Lord, please make these go away! I prayed.  I have a big day tomorrow and the last thing I want is to be tired!

He replied.  God and I had the following conversation...

G: Yeah, you do have a big day.  You are having this baby.
Me: What?  God do you realize I have a lot going on at work?
G:  Yep.  But it will work out. Work always does.
Me:  I have stuff to take care of in prep for the baby!
G:  Yeah - and what isn't done that can't wait?
Me: [thinking a moment]  I never got that hospital paperwork mailed in.
G:  I'm pretty sure they will take you anyway.
Me:  What about Rebekah's concert?
G:  Who are you kidding?  You know you'll be ready to go by then.  That is a week away.  Hey - it was just earlier you were blogging about Proverbs 3:6.  Remember that?
Me: [silence]  ....  SO?
G:  It will work out.  I worked out all that other stuff.  Why wouldn't I work this out?  And look - Rebekah is off school Mon and Tues.  That will give her some time to hang out with the new addition!
Me:  [silence] ...
G:  Don't you need to pack that bag? You should probably get on that...

I laid there for a few more minutes..hoping the contractions would simply stop.  But I knew they wouldn't.  So I got up and out of bed.  I turned on a lamp in our room (which William didn't wake up for), pulled out the suit case (making a huge thump sound...which William didn't wake for) and started packing.

BTW - if I had to do it over again...I'd pack some electronic entertainment for me.  That was one thing I wished I had.

Anyway.  I then went and filled out the hospital pre-registration because it was simply something I could control. I wondered if there was something else I should take care of...but I couldn't really think of anything. I had thought about throwing in some laundry, but to be honest walking hurt and was incredibly uncomfortable.  So I went and laid back down.

It was about here (3 AM) that William happened to wake up.  Oh - lights were left on this entire time. HA!  "Hey, what's up?" he said as he realized lights were on and...there was a suit case at the end of the bed.

"Oh, I've had a few contractions here and there.  I'm having a little trouble sleeping...no big deal." I said nonchalantly.

"Oh really?" he said - eyeing the suit case at the end of the bed.

"Yeah - since you are up...I was thinking we might want time time them to see if they are regular at all.  We could perhaps use my phone..."

So William got up and grabbed my phone...and then we downloaded a stopwatch app that actually ended up being pretty cool.  It was easy to see that I was having contractions every 1-2 min and they were lasting 30-60 seconds or so.

And this kept up for an hour.

"How long has this been going on?"

"Oh - since about 2 AM."

"I see."

"I think they are braxton hicks though."

"Uh huh.  Perhaps you should drink some water?"

"I did that."

"I see."

We hung out for about an hour, when I decided since I couldn't sleep, perhaps I'd watch some TV.  So William and I went and finished a show we didn't finish the night before. We started to watch another one - but I fell asleep.  When I woke up I thought "THERE!  They went awa..."  Yeah...no they didn't.

A kid got up so William went and laid back down with Peter who wandered upstairs.  I sat on the love seat a few minutes.  I thought perhaps I could take a shower before the inevitable.  Having an orderly start to my day just seemed...nice.

Yes, thoughts and plans are nice.

I hopped in the shower and hoped I'd be able to make it through.  Sitting, I was fine. Standing was another story.  It wasn't long before I got light headed and felt like I needed to sit down.  I squatted in the shower to regain my composure.  I looked down and saw some blood.

Yep. Time.

So I called for William and told him he needed to call our dear friends to come on over and to bring me my phone so I can call my doctor.  I put the initial call in, brushed my teeth and started to get dressed.  My doctor called me back and I explained I had been having contractions since 2 that were simply not going away. I said I had some (what appeared to me) as heavy bleeding.

"Uh huh ok.  And when did you feel the baby move last?"

Hmmm...it had been awhile.  I quoted 11 - because that was when I went to bed.  I wasn't entirely sure other than I recalled sitting on the love seat pointing to my belly and showing William how it was moving around.  "Should I be worried? With all the blood and everything?"

"Well, let's get to the hospital and see.  How long will it take you to get there?"

I wasn't worried at first, but the longer it took us to get out the door the more scenarios ran through my head.  I was anxious to get to the hospital and hear the heart beat of this little baby.

We waited for our friend to arrive...I waited in the car. :-P  I wanted to be ready to go.

At this point, I wouldn't say I was in a ton of pain.  Walking was very much uncomfortable and obviously I couldn't stand for long.  Bending over wasn't really happening either - I had to have William tie my shoes.  I was disappointed I didn't get a full shower in, but I did feel better that I at least got to rinse off a bit.  (I didn't make it to using soap...lol.)

Part 2:  The hospital arrival and birth  :)

The pressure of pg on weight loss

Probably the thing I have struggled with the most is my weight this time around.  I have gained more than I have ever gained for any of the other pregnancies.  My doctor seems to think it is normal...from my perspective though, it is pretty shocking.

I'm trying really hard to not stress or obsess about it.  My eating habits haven't changed drastically really.  (If we compare pregnancy to pregnancy - I've probably eaten more than normal.  But I haven't eaten more than I normally do for my non-pregnant self.)  And God has been teaching me exactly how instrumental He has been in my weightloss so far.

When you put all the hard work into exercising and eating right, it is pretty easy to say "I'm working pretty hard!  Look at what I have done!"  But the fact is that for some reason, time time around God has not protected me from various temptations.  And truth be told, normally I'm pretty good at passing them up.  Cake?  Actually, that is usually an easy one for me to pass up.  Chocolate?  Well...yeah.  Ice cream?  Now there is a stretch...I have a soft spot (and always have) for ice cream. 

I was just telling someone at church yesterday that the only 'weird' craving I've had is cake.  For me, it is weird.  Sitting around going "Man, I wish I had a piece of cake" is simply not normal. 

The thing I'm learning is that God changed my eating habits.  I didn't.  God changed my exercising habits.  I didn't.  I just provided a willing heart.  He helped me get the things done I needed to in order to lose weight.  And He has repeatedly told me that once this baby is born He will again help me lose this baby weight - along with the rest of the weight I had to lose before I considered myself done.  I must leave these things in His hands.

I've questioned why I'm even having to go down this road, and besides being taught the "I am nothing" lesson (which is important), I am also being shown that I truly am healed from Gestational Diabetes.  With Ruth, I had to eat right.  And I mean right!  But my blood sugar will stay in check!  With this baby, I can have a piece of cake.  It's ok.  I can't have 4 pieces of cake...that isn't OK...but 1 will not hurt me one bit.  (But honestly - no one should be eating 4 pieces of cake!) 

The last lesson I'm learning I believe is for my future - and that is about moderation.  I can be pretty extreme.  My perspective in life is very black and white.  I don't see too many shades of grey.  So learning how to eat one piece of cake and be ok is actually something I should learn so I can teach my kids.  It is part of eating healthy.  Understanding your overall calorie intake, understanding what is ok in the moment comparatively with what you have eaten all day...these are things I need to understand.  Understanding how to eat just 1 piece of cake is an important skill as well. 

In the meantime, I must close my eyes, take a deep breath and believe God has His best for me.  I need to focus on this new baby that is about to join our family and not obsess over the future of my exercise plans (will I still like running? how hard is it going to be to return?), how difficult it will be to lose weight, or even how much extra weight I will end up having to lose (on top of what was already necessary).  God helped me once.  He is faithful.  We will do it together again.

27 weeks - all is quiet

I haven't blogged too much about this pregnancy mostly because it has been rather uneventful.  I am careful about how I 'cheat' and my blood sugars remain good.  (For example:  Eating 3 slices of pie at Thanksgiving left me high...but are we REALLY surprised?  Don't forget the stuffing!)  I tried to be good...I really did.

Last night I had roasted chicken, cole slaw, a wee bit of baked beans, and a couple slices of really yummy bread.  Blood sugars was all good.

I'm actually starting to look pregnant.  I'm using all my shirts from last time and one pair of pants (that I bought towards the end of my pregnancy).  The rest were all too large and I happily donated them.  At least - it was happy until I realized I may have to buy MORE pants.  I'm going to try to just deal with what I have!  Two ought to cover me for awhile.

Baby is kicking like crazy.  And last night I had this discussion with William.

Me:  I can't imagine adding one more to our family.  It seems like a dream.
W:  You always say that.
Me: [shocked] WHAT?
W:  You say that every single time.  You said that when you were pregnant with Rebekah.  You said that when you were pregnant with Peter.  You said that when you were pregnant with Ruth.  And then after you have each kid, you exclaim "I CAN'T IMAGINE LIFE WITHOUT THIS BABY!".
Me:  I do?
W:  Yep.
Me:  Huh.  Well, I guess you know what I'm going to say after this baby is born then!

I will say - I have not enjoyed being pregnant this time around.  The overall pregnancy is just fine - it is just that I know what life after baby is going to be like for awhile.  It takes me quite awhile before I get things back together again.  You know - socially, me time, organization...etc etc.  Pumping is super time consuming and I'm not all that eager to jump back into that again (but believe strongly enough in it to do it).

I am again looking forward to 3 mo off hanging out at home.  I believe it will mostly be fun. :)

I simply do not have a lot to say this time around.  I don't have names picked out (and if I did, I actually wouldn't tell!) and I never know what to say to folks when they ask how I'm feeling.  How am I supposed to feel?  You know - besides "What the heck have I gotten myself into?" kind of feelings.

And at the same time I feel so blessed that the Lord has given us 4 beautiful kids.  (Ok - I'm guesstimating on the 4th based on the other three...haha)  I don't know that I wanted a larger family when we started out, but rather grew into that.  And I'm grateful.  While other kids have cousins, mine don't.  And now they will grow up to and have one another to depend on.  I appreciate that more than words can describe.

I miss running

The last time I ran was Jun 30th, and I remember the run so clearly.  It was my 4th run, mid summer and I was able to get out there at 5:30 and it be daylight.  I ran 4 miles with ease.  Knowing I was taking a break the next week due to all the traveling that would be happening, I had squeezed in 4 runs during the weekday.  I thought perhaps I could even continue the trend.

I went to Denver, then on a short lake trip followed by a trip to OK to visit the ILs.  But I was already looking forward to picking up the following week.

That travel week I was pretty darn tired.  But I wasn't surprised.  It was a jam packed week full of (mostly) fun.  So the exhaustion was really not surprising. And the following week didn't prove to be slower - we had VBS.  VBS is always a fun time - but certainly rest and relaxation isn't really part of the experience.

I didn't pick up running that VBS week as I intended. I felt like I was catching up on sleep anyway and so going out and spending more of it to run just didn't seem wise.

The following week I was sick.  Sick sick sick.  And the sickness remained until early August - but didn't really fully go away until the beginning of September.

During July I did attempt to at least keep up with the exercise classes I was taking at work.  After nearly puking during one session though, I decided to take a bit of time off until my illness went away.  Things got so bad that I would get motion sick while I was walking.  Getting to work in the mornings (I frequently carpooled - and infrequently drove) was also quite the trip.  I'd spend the first hour or so after I arrived trying to gather myself so I wouldn't feel so bad.

I had a million excuses between then and now - the biggest one being I felt a tiny pull at my heart that I ought to just relax.

My blood sugars are doing awesome.  I did have a bit of trouble over Thanksgiving - but I'm certain the 3 slices of pie I ate that day and poor eating habits that followed on the next two days were of course to blame.  Now that I'm back on my normal diet, my blood sugar has returned to normal.  If I were exercising, it would be easy to say "Sure God healed me - but I'm exercising.  Of course that is a factor."  While I do believe God heals through many means (medicine, healthy living, miraculous unexplainable means) - sometimes he chooses the miraculous.

Several months ago a man in our church who was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer and given 6 months to live - 1.5 years ago - stood up and talked about how he felt he had 'lost' his healing.  Some family members prayed and realized it wasn't possible.  The healing was a gift.

This resonated with me.  I felt like I it was possible for me to lose mine as well.  But God has also healed me.  It is finished.  While I can't (and shouldn't) go crazy - I can say that eating a piece of pumpkin pie after a healthy dinner is completely OK for me.  God has healed me and that is all there is too it.  It is unarguable.

I'm looking forward to picking up running again - after this baby is born. :)

Back to your regularly blogging program

Oh my - I realized today that I haven't posted any blogs related to the new baby.  I know my blogging has been rather sad lately.  It is simply a reflection of the turmoil (for the lack of a better word) my life has been in.  Things I still need to blog about include finishing up the Denver trip, a trip to South Carolina with good friends, Rebekah's birthday and of course Ruth's birthday.

....oh...and our new dog named Max. 

Adventures I tell you! 

Rebekah's birthday included 5 little girls in a sleep over - if that isn't adventurous I don't know what is!

But the focus of today's post is the new little baby bean I've got.  At 20 weeks, I'm still wearing my regular clothes (although they are feeling a bit snug these days - and honestly I just look fat in them).  I of course feel flutters.

But the thing I really wanted to talk about was a doctor's report I received last week.

If you recall, last time I was pregnant I ended up at the diabetic specialist right off the bat.  I didn't particularly want to go again.  I felt like God was reminding me that I've been healed.  And therefore I would pass the glucose test.

So last week was the 'BIG ULTRASOUND'...the one where they check the baby for defects and if you so choose, find out the baby's sex.  We of course again chose not to find out.  Afterwards I met with the doctor.  He told me I wouldn't be taking the glucose test.  He saw no point, since I was checking my blood sugar regularly.

This point scared me a little bit.  I mean - that seems to be a lot of personal responsibility.  But then I realized I haven't really taken it since I was pregnant with Rebekah.

Then he told me he also was not going to diagnose me with gestational diabetes (which he has for the past two pregnancies).  He said as long as my sugars are doing well, there is no reason to assume it.

This was surprising to me and is a complete God thing.  This is not in this doctor's characteristic.  The fact I've been 'diagnosed' each time and only took the glucose test once is proof of that. I could certainly explain it away but I'm not going too.   As far as I'm concerned, this is an answer to the prayer I had been praying - which was to pass the glucose test and NOT have a GD diagnosis on my record this time around. 

So how have my blood sugars been doing?  Well - the other day I ate two pieces of cheesecake (moment of weakness).  I checked my blood sugar 2 hrs later and it was 104 which is perfectly acceptable.  (Supposed to be under 120.)  However - I've had a few times where that wasn't the case, so I do have to watch what I eat and balance it out.  I'm finding that if I'm 'really good' at dinner, being naughty a little later is no problem.  I'm also finding if I abuse this too many times in a row - it can be a problem.  So once in awhile treat really must be once in awhile. 

Hey - at least I can have a treat. :-P

I find this comforting simply because with the holidays coming up, I was rather sad at all the goodness I'd be missing.  Sure - it would be just one holiday season.  And sure, there are things I can skip without a second thought.  But there are things (Pumpkin Spice Latte anyone?) that comes around once a year and I look forward too. 

I won't be making candy this year, I'm not sure what I'm going to do about Thanksgiving meal (we'll be out of town - so I don't have a lot of control over the menu) and I'm still considering what will be on the Christmas menu.  Yes - I'm already thinking about Christmas!

One year ago today...

...I peed on a stick.  It was a cheapo, which I know the "experts" tell you that you get what you pay for.  In my case, that was true.  Only one line showed up.  But as I examined it, I realized that it was the "positive" line and that the line that always shows up didn't.  (I forget what it was called.) 

I knew in my heart that I was pregnant, so therefore I didn't bother with purchasing another test.  I made William a home-made valentines card.  The front of it said "With love like ours..." and drew a couple of stick people with a heart.  Then on the inside I wrote "Babies just happen!".  I taped the test and wished him a happy valentines day.  I set the card on his nightstand and hopped in the shower.

I was scrubbing away, in my own world.  I do a lot of thinking in the shower.  William popped is head in there, scarring the bejeebees out of me.  I think I may have even said "AH!" in surprise! ;-)  He had a huge grin on his face and he said "REALLY!?!?"  I said "Yep!"

We waited to tell anyone for several more weeks.  I think I was around 8 weeks.  We didn't intend to tell, but we had told Rebekah and she told everyone she came across.  (I did not anticipate she'd be so excited.)  Her school was the first to find out.  And then she told my mom at a family dinner.  And from there the news was just plain out.

Baby Ruth is now 4 months old.  I got to spend today with her, because her sitter is sick.  It turned out - so was I.  So the day isn't what I'd call enjoyable by any means.  I'm on the mend and hope to be better tomorrow.  This has been a crazy winter.  My family has been sick more than normal.  We tend to be very healthy.  In all honesty, by comparison, we still are.  I think I may have food poisoning versus an actual illness.  The sitter is still sick, so I get to stay home and hang out with Ruth tomorrow too.

All this staying home stuff is starting to spoil me.  I guess God knows what He is doing - because I've enjoyed all the unexpected stay home days. :-)

Baby Ruth's BIRTHday - Part 3: The Meeting

As a reminder, you can find Part 1 here and Part 2 here.

I should be napping...but seeing how Ruth is almost a month old, seems like I should wrap this up. :-)

The kids went to school that day.  It was a difficult choice to make, because I think William's parents wanted to keep them home.  There were a lot of factors involved and I won't get into them all.  Ultimately, we made the choice to send them.  After Ruth was born, we gave William's parents a call to let them to know to go get the kids and come on up.

We actually didn't tell them on the phone any further details.  We just know William's parents.  They get super excited and eager...and (selfish or not) we wanted to be the ones to give the kids the news.  When the kids walked in, William still hadn't told them anything, other than Baby Bean had been born.

There are a few things that cracked me up.  First, the kids didn't ask whether Baby Bean was a boy or girl.  In their minds, they already knew she was a she.  (Rebekah had been saying so for the last couple months and Peter followed suit.)  So their comments went straight to "Oh she's so cute!"  Secondly, they had been in the room for about 15 minutes already when we realized they never asked what her name was.  Again, in their minds the baby's name was Baby Bean...or Sally.  That was a name Rebekah had chosen and was pretty staunchly in favor of. 

Rebekah was giddy with excitement to hold little Baby Bean...errr, I mean Ruth.  I love the look on Peter's face.  He's all "Just hand  her over."  

They ooooo and awwwed over her for quite some time and have been smitten with Ruth ever since.  They still ask to hold her daily.  When Peter wakes up the first thing he does is run in and give her a good morning kiss.  When he gets home from school, he runs over to wherever she is at and give her a hug and a kiss (skipping me altogether).  Rebekah loves sitting by herself and holding Ruth (which we do allow...she is calm enough for that).  She has been irritated we won't let her pick up Ruth by herself!  :-P  AND if I ask her to entertain Ruth or keep an eye on  her, she does so diligently.

One time William took Peter to the store with him.  I hadn't anticipated Rebekah wanting to go, but she decided she wanted too.  William wasn't keen on the idea, as it would make the trip that much slower.  So I told Rebekah I had an important job for her...she needed to watch Ruth while I took a shower.  My showers take about 20 min. :-)  Rebekah sat the entire time by the swing and never took her eyes off of her.  I hadn't expected that.  It was so sweet!

Anyway...back to the big birthday.  So the kids have been in love with her from the beginning.  They could not get enough of their new baby sister.  We finally had to pry her out of their hands so that Ruth could have her first bath and we could get moved to the next room.  (Nurse Teresa suggested we do this before the rest of the family came, mostly so that she didn't have the difficult task of prying the baby away from more eager family members.  LOL)

And at some point in here somewhere, William did run out and tell his folks the details so they weren't left wondering.  We didn't want to be cruel. :-)

Here you can see Nurse Teresa, Ruth, Rebekah, William and Peter.

 

Nurse Teresa was so patient with the kids.  I was again glad I had a nurse who had 5 of them herself.  (Really, anyone who has 5 has to generally be a patient person...right?)  Ruth of course was crying and the kids wanted to know why.  Nurse Teresa told them Ruth was talking to them.  So then there were about 500 questions of "What is she saying NOW?"  I bet she regretted saying that, at least a little bit?  But she came up with all kinds of things.  "She is saying she doesn't want a bath."  "She is saying she is so happy to meet you guys!"  "She is saying she loves you!"  "She is saying HI!"  "She is saying..." it went on and on.  

Rebekah kept comment on all of Ruth's tiny body parts.  "Look at her ears!  They are so small and adorable!"  or "Look at her nose!  It is so small and cute!"  And at one point, Rebekah said "Why does Ruth have a BOY hair cut?"  

Peter talked a bunch too, but mostly repeated what Rebekah said.

After everyone cleaned up (including myself), we moved to the new room.  Even after the move, the kids did NOT want to put Ruth down or leave her alone.  I think the grandparents all had a bit of green eyed envy because the kids got so much time with Ruth.  But it was important to William and I to foster this relationship so early and get it off to a good start.  Family is important, but siblings will be there for each other much longer than the grandparents or even William and I.  It has always been a dream of mine to have kids who were more than just related...and actually enjoy one another's company and genuinely love each other.

We had a few picture snafu's in the hospital.  Below is the only picture I have of me and Ruth...as well as me, Ruth, Rebekah and Peter.  We also do not have any pictures of all 5 of us.  Whoops.  Normally I think of these things, but this time around I simply was enjoying the moment SO MUCH I didn't have a thought towards pictures.  (This is highly unusual for me.)  That is Uncle Thomas (William's brother) in the background there.

 And some more random pictures of Rebekah and Peter.

This was later after everyone left...William claimed he was tired.  I'm sure he was, but it seems that the person who just gave birth might have a bit more of a claim on "most tired".  Just sayin'.  (I love to tease him.  His response would simply be "When am I NOT tired?" lol)

 

The grandparents and uncle finally got to hold Ruth, of course.  And of course she has won the hearts of everyone who gazes upon her sweet little face.  How could it NOT?  

When we got home from the hospital (again, no pics...I was seriously deficient! LOL) we did a gift exchange.  Ruth bought some gifts for Rebekah and Peter.  Rebekah and Peter actually also bought a gift each for Ruth.  Rebekah chose to get Ruth some "PJs" (a sleeper).  Peter chose a stuffed animal.  So we had actually gone to build-a-bear and let them make Ruth (or Baby Bean...as was so named at the time haha) something.  They chose a black bear with a pink baby outfit.  Good thing Ruth was a girl...haha.  

Ruth got Peter a watch and a piggie bank.  She got Rebekah a watch and a book of puzzles.  Rebekah was pretty excited that Ruth had picked those things out for her.  She asked me if Ruth did it all by herself...I told her yes.  She said she was so proud Ruth used her hands. LOL 

When I talk about the relationship between my kids, the automatic response I nearly always get is "You just wait!  Wait until [insert time frame here], they'll be fighting like cats and dogs!"  This amuses me.

As I said earlier, my one wish for my kids has always been that they have a great relationship among one another.  I was petrified when Peter was born that the two would hate each other.  When I was pg with Peter, I really wanted a girl.  In my mind, if I had a girl they had a better chance of getting along.  One day on my drive home from work, God began talking about this to me.  He said He was the perfect family builder.  I really couldn't argue with that, because everything God does is perfect.  I won't get into why some families are rather dysfunctional, other than we all have choices.  God also gave us free will after all.  And in this moment, He was really asking me to trust Him on building my family. 

When Peter was born and Rebekah adored him...it was a confirmation.  Romans 8:5 says "Those who live according to the flesh have their minds set on what the flesh desires; but those who live in accordance with the Spirit have their minds set on what the Spirit desires."  And I think we can all agree that God does care about families.  He did design them after all!

So this time around I really didn't give it another thought about whether the kids would get along.  I wondered if Peter might get jealous, as he is still very much a mamma's boy.  BUT - I knew it would work out.  And it has.  I think Ruth has Peter wrapped around her tiny little pinky finger.  He would do anything for her now.  And I love it.  Watching Peter move into this new role of Big Brother has been such a sweet experience.  He has done it with typical Peter gusto (meaning full throttle, no holding back and with absolute dedication).  Shoot, he gets mad when we don't let him help change her diapers.  He'd do it himself we would let him.

And I need to get some video of him talking to her.  It is so adorable watching this almost-3-yo talk in a high pitched voice (for him) to his baby sister.  ;-)  Yesterday I heard him singing to her in the swing when she was starting to get a little fussy.  And the few times he has hurt her (and made her cry), it has absolutely heart broken him.  He kicked her with his beloved boots accidentally and then refused to wear them for quite some time (at least a week, but I don't recall exactly how long).

Rebekah has been herself.  She is very motherly towards Ruth, informing me of Ruth's needs.  "Hey mom, I think she is mad b/c she is hungry.  Feed her."  She watches over Ruth in a similar fashion as she watches over Peter.  She also enjoys showing off her baby sister to everyone she possibly can.  And she loves to simply sit and hold Ruth and stare at her.

I look forward to watching their relationships blossom over the years.  Rebekah and Peter do not always get along, but they DO love each other deeply.  Everyone squabbles (hello - married people squabble!).  But I'm so grateful God has put the perfect people in my family to create the perfect family. :-)  Ruth fits in just perfectly.

Baby Ruth's BIRTHday - Part 2: The Labor

One thing I forgot to mention in Part 1 about nurse Teresa is that she had 5 kids.  :-)  I didn't ask their ages, but I did ask her which transition was the hardest.  She said the first one was hard, simply because of the lifestyle change.  She said going from 1 to 2 was probably the absolute hardest, because of the emotional baggage that goes with it.  She said going from 2 to 3 wasn't very difficult and after that they are just another mouth to feed at the table.  HA HA!  It also was nice that she had so many kids, because that just gives her more experience in my eyes (and thus I have more confidence in her). 

I also identified with the difficulty with going from 1 to 2.  So I hoped my experience with going from 2 to 3 would be similar.  So far - it has.  It really has been a cake walk this time around.

As a reminder, I am wordy. ;-)  And detailed.  And THIS post is probably the one post that will have the most details that may make you squeamish.  





So...where I left off they had just broken my water and we were hurry up and waiting.  I think I looked at the clock about 20 times in the first 20 minutes.  Dr. A. came in to check me again (I honestly don't know at what point this was...but it was before I was having painful contractions).  She did her check and gave her numbers.  "Minus 2 and 80 percent."  Nurse Teresa diligently noted them down.  As Dr. A. took her gloves off, she said "Or maybe 90.  80 or 90."  Nurse Teresa looked up and said "Well, I noted 80%, because that is what you said first."  Dr. A. waived her hand in ambivalence and walked out of the room.

Really, who wants an ambivalent doctor?  I surely hopes through the rest of her residence she learns some manners.  I realize that this was a tiny thing (really who cares 80 or 90?), but it was simply her overall attitude.  In case you couldn't tell, I really didn't like her.  Thankfully, this was the last time I saw her.

Everyone kept asking me about my pain levels.  0.  0.  0.  0.  0.  Ok...maybe a 1.  I began to worry I wasn't going to be as fast as I thought after all.  I began to worry I'd be in labor in the middle of the night (due to the late start), which would end up in another night stay.  They don't usually release you in the middle of the night.

Then I looked at the clock.  It was only 12:30.  Silly me.  I've never been good at simply waiting.

The most interesting thing about it this time was the sensation of my broken water.  With Rebekah, I had an epidural before they broke my water.  With Peter, I was simply in too much pain...and then it was epidural time.  So at first it freaked me out and I thought I was peeing myself.  HAHA!  I had actually wondered what was wrong with me, that I couldn't simply hold my pee.  And then after a few contractions I realized the gush came with the contraction...which led me to the realization it was simply my water.  I had heard this is what it felt like, but it is something else to experience it yourself.  And it is yet another thing to experience it on your third kid.  I pondered this quite some time.  (Well, when you are waiting, what the heck else do you have to do?)

Nurse Teresa told me it takes about an hour to get the epidural, and to keep that in mind as my pain kicks up.  About 1:00 things started to pick up.  They asked me what my pain level was, and I said a 3 or 4.  I saw William's eyebrows go up.  I sat there thinking about the higher pain and the fact that it takes an hour to get an epidural.  About 1:15 I told nurse Teresa I was ready for that epidural.  She flipped on the bag of fluids you have to take first and got the ball rolling.

Just before the anesthesiologists came in, I got up to use the restroom.  Oh BOY that was a process with all the connectors thingies and such.  Nurse Teresa helped me in there, and then once I was done I wasn't sure if I should stay in there, or come out.  I peeked out and she came and got me.  Whew.  I hate those situations.  I would have been fine just coming out by myself...until I ended up knocking the IV pole over and breaking some machinery, all in the name of independence. 

By this time those 3 and 4 contractions were turning into 5's.  I gritted my teeth and didn't say too much, I knew relief was on its way!  Getting the actual epidural was grueling.

For the first time ever, they made me lay on my side.  Both times previous, I sat up for it.  The anesthesiologists said it was easier/better.  Easier for who?  I'm not sure.  Not me, that much I do know.  During this time, the contractions kicked up another notch.  The thing about epidurals is that you have to stay absolutely still.  You can't move at all...and just in case you don't respect that, they remind you they are working around your spine.  So intense contractions, holding still, AND I had to roll into a tight ball around my GIGANTIC HUMONGOUS belly.  I again ask...WHO was this particular position the best for?  Luckily sweet William was there to help with the ball part.  I curled as best as I could and he held my legs.  The docs did their thing and TA DA!  After what seemed like eternity I finally had my epidural.

When I got my epidural with Peter, it was immediate relief.  As soon as the medicine went in, I felt the coolness from it spread and I felt so much better.  This time around it was much slower moving.  And crooked.  It was perfect on one side, but I could still feel some of the pain of the contractions on the other.  I decided it was fine, and not to say anything about it.

Rather suddenly, a wave of exhaustion rolled over me.  My eyelids became 100 lbs and I simply couldn't keep them open.  I thought it was at last nap time.  I had tried multiple times to fall asleep during the day and it just wasn't happening.  I laid there in the bed, listening to everything going on around me with my eyes closed.  William was watching TV.  Nurse Teresa was sitting there monitoring things, chatting with the anesthesiologist who was staying to monitor me.  The big topic was all the wacky problems they were having along with the mysterious power outage.  The computer system had also gone out again, but this time when it came back all the notes also came back.  Nurse Teresa was frustrated as she had spent so much time writing them out.

It wasn't very long at all when all of a sudden I felt a substantial amount of pressure down low.  My eyes shot open.  I had never felt anything like it before.  It sorta felt like I needed to poop big time.  I knew that things had changed.  The anesthesiologist sat up and said "What?  What's wrong?"  Nurse Teresa looked up and waited for my answer.  I struggled to find the right word to describe what I was feeling.  "Are you in pain?  Where does it hurt?"  My thoughts went to the uneven epidural and I sort of pointed to my one side, but I knew that that wasn't what they wanted to know about.  The anesthesiologist got up trying to determine where I was pointing when I finally managed to get the proper word out..."Pressure!  Lots of pressure!"  Relief washed over the two (Teresa and the anesthesiologist).  Nurse Teresa called Dr. Z in to check me.  Everyone began busying themselves with preparations for birth.  A few extra people came in the room and they began doing what it is they do.  (I haven't ever really seen very clearly what it is they do exactly...I just know everyone looks very busy!)

Dr. Z walked in and he checked me.  Nurse Teresa said "What is she?  A plus 2?"  Dr. Z replied..."Nope.  More like a plus 4!"  Someone else peeked and said "Oh...OH."  Everyone began moving at a faster pace to get their preparations done.  Dr. Z then looked at me and said "You sneeze and this baby is coming out!"

I waited patiently as they sped around the room putting on gowns and slapping on gloves.  "Someone tell Dr. A if she doesn't get in here NOW...she's going to miss this birth!" Dr. Z said.  I am saddened to say she never made it.  *cough cough*  Well...sad is probably not the right word, but we will leave it.  ;-)  I prepared to push.  William grabbed up one leg and nurse Teresa grabbed up the other. Dr. Z got ready to catch.  "Alright, SNEEZE!" he said.  I pushed.  I no sooner than I had thought about pushing when I looked down and saw the head...the little purple blood covered head.  And I'm not sure why I could see, my bed must have been set higher or something.  Overwhelming joy flooded me and I pushed again.  I don't know how I pushed her out from there, because I was so fascinated with the fact I could see her.  This was another first for me.  Dr. Z looked at William and said "Well, what do we have???"  I strained to see, but couldn't see the vital parts.  William said "It's a girl!"  He then cut the cord.

Ruth began crying immediately.  Someone, and I'm not sure who, asked if I wanted to hold her.  "YES!" My eyes welled up and the beauty of my little screamer was not lost on me.  It was the first time I had been emotional at the birth of one of my kids.  I'm simply not a crier.  They took her to get her cleaned up.

The anesthesiologist as well as nurse Teresa both commented on my calm demeanor during the labor.  I said "What am I supposed to do?  Scream my head off and flip out?"  They laughed and said that they have met lots of women who did just that.  Apparently one young mother up the hallway believed she was in fact dying and mommy dearest didn't do anything but fan that flame.  "Some believe the baby comes out magically..." the anesthesiologist laughed. 

I have a pretty high tolerance for pain.  Not everyone does.

I commented that the room didn't appear to be very full, like I recalled with my other two.  They laughed again and said that was because no one had time to show up.  Well, just another bonus then.  I don't care that so many people come to witness a birth, but it isn't going to break my heart if they don't get to come either. 

Dr. Z said there was no tearing, but I did have a "road rash".  LOL  He said it would be more painful to put stitches in, so he was just going to leave it.  Fine with me.

And after all that blood (William tells me it looks like a war zone! ha!), I didn't get a drop of anything on my socks.  Absolutely amazing.  I left them on to keep my feet warm.  I didn't expect them to go unscathed!  Almost got some on them when the placenta was delivered.  I guess when they were removing it, there was an extra gush.  Dr. Z teased the resident (? - honestly, I'm not sure who the fella was lol) that we went so far without getting blood on my socks...he shouldn't ruin it now.

They weighed baby Ruth and measured her.  The nurses kept commenting on how huge her head was and they couldn't believe I delivered such a huge head so calmly.  I asked nurse Teresa what was normal, she said 13-some inches is normal.  Ruth was 14.5.  So really, not TOO huge. 

Ruth cried during this entire time...from the moment she was born all the way through her measuring.  I actually forget when she STOPPED crying.  Dr. Z joked that he was fairly certain she passed that part of the Apgar test.  And actually, for as much as she cried then she has really turned out to not be a huge crier.  She is rather patient (except when it comes to diaper changes).  I wondered lightly if we had another Peter on our hands.  I think she was just giving her lungs a good stretch.

She finally did calm down and eventually they brought her to me for nursing.  The first nursing session went pretty well.  Ruth latched on like a champ.  It took a few tries, but she got it.  The most frustrating part was my lack of planning.  I had forgotten to purchase any nursing bras.  I finally ordered a couple the Friday before but of course I didn't have them yet.  Sure you can hike your bra, but a nursing bra is just so much simpler.  We made do.

I starred at my little personal miracle.  This baby that the Lord blessed us with so quickly, blessed us with miraculous health...this baby that did things her own way and in her own timing (except when the subject was forced...eviction case in point!).  It was a long wondrous journey for me this time.  And with this journey I now have a little souvenir that is so absolutely precious. 

I love ALL of my children.  This birth experience for me was simply so different.  I don't know why it was so different, why I have felt so emotional over it all.  I simply have.  I still can't help but look at her little chubby cheeks and her chicken legs and well up with joy all over again.  Maybe the extra emotion is the fulfillment of God's promises to me over these past few months.  I feel so very blessed.

My entire labor from pitocin start to birth was 3 hrs and 37 minutes.  Pitocin was started at 11:15.  My water was broken at 11:20.  I asked for my epidural at 1:15.  I received my epidural somewhere between 2:15 and 2:30.  Ruth was born at 2:52 PM.  And, interestingly this was the same time of day I was born...exactly.  (I find that to be pretty cool!)

Next up the kids meet Baby Ruth.  That will be the last and final part of this very lengthy story. :-)

Baby Ruth's BIRTHday - Part 1: The wait

After a long uneventful weekend, Ruth Irene was finally born on 10/11/10 at 2:52 PM.  She weighed in at 8 lbs 15 oz, 20 inches long and had a 14.5 inch head.  I know the head isn't normally mentioned, but the nurse kept commenting on how HUGE her head was.

And I'm going to skip to the end momentarily and mention on more thing.  This is another God thing.  One of the side effects of gestational diabetes is that babies can be born hypoglycemic.  It is temporary (usually), but increases the risk of that child developing diabetes later in life.  We know God healed me, so I wasn't particularly worried.  The nurse took Ruth's blood sugar.  In infants, the blood sugar just needs to be above 40.  Ruth's was 60.  The nurse exclaimed "WOW!  That is a really good blood sugar for an infant this age!"  (You know - maybe 30 min old! LOL)  It was just a blessing to me that not only did God bring Ruth into this world healthy, but ABOVE healthy.

Now...this is your warning.  I'm going to start from the beginning and tell the entire story.  But, mostly for my sake, I'm putting all the nitty gritty details in.  So if you have a weak stomach (or no interest in details of a birth haha), take a look at the cute picture of Ruth and stop reading. ;-)  I've had to divide this post into several parts (there will probably be 3).  This particular post is not really so bad - but I thought I'd warn just the same.

Ok...you have been warned! :-)


At my doctors appointment on Wed, my membranes were stripped.  This can often cause women to go into labor.  It worked like a charm with Peter.  This time around, I did have contractions...and lots of them.  Nothing regular or painful, but there was lots of action.  I really didn't believe I would still be pregnant when I woke up on 10/11.

10/09 rolled around, and I actually went and hung out with some friends for dinner.  I actually didn't anticipate going, but was glad I got to go.  A friend who moved out of state was there, and it was great fun catching up with her.  (Sorry no pictures...but I promise there were barrels of laughs!)

I was rather disappointed that I woke up 10/10 and still pregnant.  I was SO disappointed, I couldn't fathom facing my church friends. So we went shopping instead.  (It was actually William's idea...shopping equals LOTS of walking!)  We shopped until we dropped.  I didn't buy much as I enjoy window shopping.

10/10 came to a close with absolutely nothing.  No baby.  I was pretty sad.  William's family showed up Sunday evening.  The plan was for William's mom to go with me to the hospital and William was going to drop the kids off at school.  We felt they should go, as there are a lot of changes going and this was our attempt at helping to keep their life a little bit normal.

I woke up bright and early at 4:30 AM.  It was only an hour early from my normal wake up time, but still.  Early is early.  I left the house a wee bit late, but still made time to stop and get a diet pepsi from QT! :-P  Not exactly "proper", but I knew they would be starving me so I felt like I could fudge with a little DP!

Around 7:30 AM I was plugged in and ready to go - when the nurse came in and said the doc wanted things to be taken slowly because he had double booked himself.  He had a surgery that morning, and was worried about missing the birth.  I was actually fine with this, because I was worried that William might miss something, with dropping off the kids and all.  I just didn't realize HOW slowly things were going to be.  William showed up around 8:30 (much to my relief).

I met a few people during this time (before William showed up).  The first is my nurse...nurse Teresa.  She was so completely AWESOME and the first absolutely positive nursing experience I have had!  It gave me faith in the nurses at that particular hospital.  I was prepared to combat the nurses, but Teresa was so wonderful I simply didn't have to.  It made the entire day absolutely pleasant!  Something else I was not planning on.  (I particularly hate hospitals.  So add in bad nurse experiences, and of course my outlook wasn't positive!)

The next person I met we will call Dr. A.  I honestly cannot recall her full name, and couldn't even begin to pronounce her name.  When she said it, I had honestly thought she should have said something like "But you can just call me Dr. A!"  How she expected a patient to pronounce...or remember...that name I really didn't know!  She was the resident on duty.  Besides her name, she had absolutely terrible bed side manners.  She may have been having a bad day...but dealing with a pg lady who is about to have happy event really dictates that you simply put on your happy face whether you feel happy or not.

I had some downtime myself that morning, so I took a picture of myself still pregnant.  William thinks this picture is hilarious - he says I look surprised.  SURPRISE!  You're having a baby!

After my visit with nurse Teresa and Dr. A, the computers went down.  It started beeping and I had to call in lovely Teresa to make it stop.  I thought that was kinda weird.

My doctor then stopped in and apologized for the delay.  Apparently he had double booked himself.  He was very worried that once the pitocin started, I would go fast and he would miss the delivery.  He said once he was far enough into the surgery, he would give 'em a call to start me up.

So we hung out...William and I.

Recently (as in just a few days before all of this) he discovered a show called "Pawn Stars".  He LOVED it, and had been watching it like crazy.  He stayed up until something like 3 AM that first night watching episodes of it.  And it turns out, they were running a marathon of this show on The History Channel (or whatever channel it normally airs on).  So lucky me spent the morning watching episode after episode.  I didn't mind the show - but there is such a thing as too much of a good thing you know? But this provided me with some great material to tease William with!  So that is always a bonus.

Pitocin was finally started at 11:15.  Yep - you read that right.  I woke up at 4:30 AM just to be delayed until almost lunch time.  I had no idea the "take things slowly" meant THAT slow.  My doctor came in with the resident to break my water.  This was done at 11:20.

At this point, I'm not sure exactly what happened, but Dr. A did a no-no.  My doc (Dr. Z) was very stern with her.  Here is a case in point of her attitude.  Instead of accepting the first teaching moment gracefully and learning from it (he was not stern at first, just straight forward), she tried to dismiss whatever it was she did.  So HE had to make his point stronger.  I thought it rather arrogant of her...he has been delivering babies for a very long time...since she was in diapers I'm sure.  I didn't catch much of the conversation, other than whatever she did could have allowed the baby's head to flip around.  His point was he prevented it, and he was trying to show her whatever it was she missed.  BTW - I love my doctor.  I've seen him be stern when he needs to before, always with my best interest at heart.  He does NOT accept less than excellence, which I sincerely appreciate!  (I recall him getting onto some nurses when I was in with Rebekah as well.)

Me waiting - that is my 'lunch' on the bed!  ICE CHIPS!

And so we were hurrying up and waiting some more.  The computers went off again.  When they came back on, nurse Teresa had lost all her notes and was instructed to rewrite them all out by hand.  So she sat in my room monitoring things and writing her re-writing her notes.  Over lunch, the power (apparently throughout the entire hospital) blinked.  It was off for a few seconds (2 or 3?).  I'm very happy I wasn't on a ventilator or something. ;-)  The power outage caused more beeping.

Really - I'm not sure what was going on with the electronics, but I found it all ironic and funny.  After all...10/11/10 is a binary day. :-)

And that concludes Part 1.  Hopefully I'll get to part 2 very soon! :-)