Hank's birth story

Well, I was unsuccessful at keeping him in for an entire two weeks, but I think two days shy of my goal wasn't too shabby. Henry James (Hank) made his grand entrance July 2, 2017, at 5:54 in the morning. Labor started around 10pm the night before, and once again my children are disobeying me before they even exit the womb. I specifically requested that he come on July 1 (because 7-1-17 is a cool birth date) and for labor to start in the morning and for him to be born by lunch so we could start this whole thing off with minimal sleep deprivation (and lunch!). But labor started at the END of the day and lasted all night and we started off with maximum sleep deprivation. Maybe we'll have more luck with the next one.

I KID, I KID.

I never could go to sleep, so Steve went to bed and I bounced around and said Hail Mary's and timed contractions and thought nothing was really happening.

Is it me, or are these charts supposed to do some sort of gradual increase or decrease? I've got the Smoky Mountains look goin on here.

Not helpful

My main goal for this delivery (and the entirety of my "birth plan") was to get an epidural as early as possible. So after about two and a half hours of this random contraction timing, I woke Steve up and told him it was time to go. Then I instantly felt stupid because what if we get there and they send me home? Oh well, we were gonna be safe and maybe sorry. We told my mom we were leaving and drove the two miles to the hospital. Once we were there, we approached the nurses station. "Can we help you?" Um, excuse me, yes, I, uh, I'm in labor?

Yes, killing them with confidence in my active labor phase for sure.

So they took me into a triage room to assess me and check for dilation. Asked me if this was my first. Crap. Surely that means I'm going home. But....

SEVEN!

Seven centimeters! Yeehaw! And also, PLZ GOD TELL ME THERE'S STILL TIME FOR AN EPIDURAL. The anesthesiologist is not a 24/7 kind of dude here at the hospital, so my main concern was him not being around, not answering his phone, not making it in time to administer those life-saving drugs to my spine... But luckily for me, someone else took that fall and I was #3 for deliveries that night, so he was already there and ready to rock and roll.

He finally gave me the juice and then the nurses were kinda like, well you need to get two bags of penicillin in, so peace out, we'll see you in a few hours. So it took me maybe 3 hours to go from nothing to 7cm and then another 5 hours to be "complete." Fine by me- we took a nap (sort of) and waited for everyone to deem me ready. (It's hard to sleep when you know you are actively warping your baby's head into a cone via entering the birth canal. Yes, call me vain but I was worried he'd have cone head from sitting in there for so long waiting on this penicillin to get in!)

Finally it was time to push. That awkward phase where literally everyone is staring into my hooha like a crystal ball and I'm trying not to poop myself. Hank emerged easily (thanks, epidural!) and with the cord wrapped around his neck twice! No worries, he was fine, the nurse even commented that we could jump rope with his umbilical cord (nice mental image, right?) and it wasn't tight at all. He was wide eyed and quiet, taking in every little thing around him. Almost scary quiet. He let out a few cries to signal that he can breathe and speak and whatnot and then just laid there and stared at me. SUCH a sweetie. I counted his fingers and toes quickly, then realized that I literally had about eight ultrasounds where they did that exact thing every time. No matter though, it was a relief to count them in person. He nursed like a champ and for about two and a half hours nonstop. He got his little bath and measurements done before coming back to nurse again.

Thanks to my lady bits' "veteran" status, I had no tears or issues, and once the epidural wore off, I honestly did not feel like I had just given birth. God bless modern medicine.

He looks SO much like baby Sam to me. And one nurse even commented that he has a csection head which I take is code for NOT CONE HEAD so that's a relief.

This was my first time delivering at a military hospital, and it was nice and easy. Definitely no frills. I can't see paying top dollar to go to a special birthing center, when you can be ignored and keep your baby in room with you for free at the Army hospital. Heh. I kid, but in all seriousness, the nurses were great, the doctors did their job, but there was no nursery. Aka no break. The nurses asked us if we'd like to accompany Hank while they did his discharge evaluation. To which we both responded no. This will be our last kid-free break for the forseeable future, we can stand to spend the next 20 minutes apart, thanks.

Back at home, the three amigos were (not so) patiently waiting for their fourth.

They were all so enamored with Hank.

I was honestly expecting Molly to be the one most obsessed with Hank, and while she certainly is wanting to hold him/feed him/mother him constantly, the other two are right on her heels.

reading Hank books

In fact, Will is almost aggressively obsessed with Hank. If he is lying on the floor, Will slaps a two foot radius around him and does whatever he can to make sure he is the only one maintaining eye contact with Hank. He wants eyes on him at all times. Kinda like a mama bear. He leans in for hugs and kisses when he cries and has learned very quickly how to gently pat his head. He enjoys plucking the pacifier from his mouth and tasting it (Will never used a pacifier, but I guess has a newfound interest in them), and observing every diaper change, all the while acting like I am torturing Hank if I let the crying go on longer than ten seconds. It is an unexpected sweet side of Will that I hadn't really seen before. He is going full throttle towards the terrible two's (it starts for my kids at 18 months *shudder*) so it's nice to see him have such a sweet and gentle attitude towards his baby brother.

Sam, of course, is once again rocking the biggest brother role. He holds Hank like an old pro and helps whenever I need him to. He also told me he loves my tiny belly (which LOL); he is obviously the reining favorite child at the moment dishing out compliments like that.

Steve has, once again, been the best. He has handled everything. Literally everything. He takes dirty dishes out of my hands and tells me to go put my feet up. He wakes up for every night feeding so I can pump. He takes Sam fishing, he takes Molly on errands with him (counterproductive for him, always), and he chases Will around the circle. He also has taken it upon himself to do all the laundry and continues bathing all these children every night (THE MOST thankless job in this house). He has come up with dinners on nights when I haven't given it a second thought. He still goes to the gym daily (how, and with what energy, I do not know). And he even tells me I'm pretty when I'm hooked up to a pump at 2am with my saggy empty belly and stretch marks and boobs going like a dairy cow. He's exactly everything a good husband should be, and then some. And I have no clue how I was so lucky to not only snag him, but now four of his beautiful babies.

Steve thinks this is the last birth story this old blog will see. Sam seems to think otherwise. I guess only time will tell. I'm just thankful for another easy birth, healthy baby, and happy family.

Will's birth story

Tap the brakes, 2016! I needed to squeeze in a post before 2015 ended, but that turned into one giant whirlwind and never happened. I will try to backtrack eventually, but Will tends to require at least one hand at almost all times (I have not mastered hands-free nursing yet- give me time), and while I have drafted 8 zillion blog posts in my head since his birth, I haven't had the time or second hand to put them in the computer.

I do want to get his birth story down though before I forget everything about it. Spoiler alert- it's not terribly exciting. I mean, except the end, where I get a perfectly squishy baby. But you already knew that part.

On the 25th of December, I woke up relieved that I survived another night pregnant. I really REALLY wanted to make it through Christmas morning and have a "normal" holiday with the kids before their little worlds were, once again, turned upside down. And that happened! Wahoo! We opened presents, made a birthday waffle stack, sang happy birthday to Jesus, and visited with some of Steve's family.

Happy birthday, Jesus!

after mass on Christmas Day

becoming increasingly more jolly with each passing minute

The rest of the day was pretty lazy. Steve's aunt dropped by, the kids played, we watched a Christmas movie, and then.... what was that? A contraction? Ok, that was definitely a contraction. But how can I be sure? It's been a minute since I've had one. And by a minute, I do mean almost four years. But then five minutes later (actual five minutes later), I felt it again. I started to panic a bit, because I never listened to my Hypnobabies CDs this time! I couldn't get my itunes to sync from my computer to my phone and honestly, I am one of THEE most technologically illiterate people of my generation, so I did what any other lazy pregnant person would do and just figured I'd wing it whenever the time came. Well. The time came and I was freaking slightly. Started reminding myself of all the Hypnobabies buzzwords to try and trick my brain into thinking I'd listened to them and therefore, granting me an easy, pain-free labor.

We got a text from Steve's mom that we were kinda late for Christmas dinner and I embarrassingly texted back that I was timing contractions and they were kinda irregular, but definitely happening, so we would be skipping, sorry.... After dinner, my in-laws came and picked up Sam and Molly (and Odie) to spend the night at their house in case this ended up being for real. Steve and I watched Christmas Vacation while I timed a few more random contractions. Then.... nothing. Womp womp.

We went to bed and I prayed to the labor and delivery gods that they would grant me one more night of uninterrupted sleep before D-Day... I promise to appreciate it 100% more knowing it's my last... Please please please?

I got up at 3am to go pee and apparently that signaled to my body that I was up and very well-rested, ready to go... After not being able to get very comfortable in bed, I went downstairs to time contractions and sit on the bouncy ball Steve blew up for me the night before. Labor is so boring. Especially at 3am. I cut up some fudge, cleaned the kitchen, folded a bit of laundry, and bounced around. I checked FB and messaged anyone who even appeared to be awake. Talk to me! Tell me it's for real this time! Because I will be so embarrassed if it's not and I'm down here timing contractions like a fool!

Steve eventually came down, told me his stomach hurt (I'll admit I was not the most sympathetic), and fell asleep on the couch. After a few contractions started to space themselves out from 1 minute to 8 (yes, EIGHT) minutes, I got really bored and angry and laid down on the couch too and fell asleep. I felt a few contractions but was able to sleep through them mostly. At that point, they were just pissing me off. I know contractions 8 minutes apart mean that you're nowhere near the finish line. And I was counting on a super short labor this time. We were already creeping up on the 8 hour mark. Molly's birth was completely finished by hour eight! This was supposed to be faster! Argh.....

Finally, after waking up and still feeling random contractions (too pissed to even time them- stupid, pointless contractions!), I called the doctor. It wasn't a doctor from the practice I go to- they were on a holiday schedule and another clinic was covering for my doctors. So I talk to this OB and said that I'd been having these random contractions since 3am and I'm starting to wonder if maybe baby isn't head down and that's why nothing consistent is happening? I also haven't felt a ton of movement and I'd like to come in and get checked just to be sure everything is ok. She sounded a little annoyed and said I didn't even sound like I was in labor, so there was no need to come in yet. "Come in when you feel like you're closer."

Me: "Well, I just would really like to be checked because these are definitely contractions, but I just think there has to be a reason they aren't feeling too productive."
OB: "Is this your first baby?"
Me, annoyed now: "No. This is my third." (which is only going to make this entire scenario more embarrassing for me when I get sent back home for not being in actual labor)
OB: "You just don't sound like you're in active labor. You can come if you want to though...." (said in a tone like, I'm just gonna send your stubborn ass home, so don't even waste your time....)
Me: "Ok, we'll see you soon!"

After arriving at the hospital (drive was uneventful, although I'm sure Steve would like me to credit him with some sort of expert driving- thanks for driving, Steve!), I met my nurse, MJ who immediately won me over. She was very no-nonsense and totally advocated for me instead of treating me like just another patient who needed to be told what to do. This skinny male resident came in to ask me all the same questions that MJ asked me and then informed me that my BP was elevated (135/87 - not outrageous, in my opinion? Let's remember that I'm allegedly in labor.) so they were going to be closely monitoring me for a condition I might have heard of before? It's called pre-eclampsia and it can be dangerous for both me and baby yadda yadda.. I must have been giving off some serious idiot vibes that day. Maybe it was the sweatpants. Anyways, after dealing with his questions and biology lecture, he finally checked me. Five centimeters! I get to stay! Take THAT, Doubting Doctor on the phone!

At least one of us was comfortable.

Immediately I inquire as to what the epidural options are. I'm told I have to get this bag of fluid pumped into my arm first. Ugh. I take a pic and text it to my nurse friend from Korea. I said something like, "The doc said this bag only takes 20 minutes to get in me and then I'll be feeling fine with an epidural in my spine!" She texted back, "Well. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but according to the settings on that machine, it looks like you've got about an hour's worth of fluids to get in...." Sonuva nutcracker! MJ came back in to check things out and rearranged my arms to help speed up the fluid drip process. I told her things were starting to get slightly uncomfortable. "Can't wait for that juice!" She looked me up and down and said, "I'm gonna go ahead and call anesthesia. You are probably already a 9 or 10." Don't you talk like that to me, MJ. It's only been an hour. It took me 8 hours to get to 5cm. We've got some time. I just didn't listen to my Hypnobabies CDs and so I am feeling much more weak sauce this go-round. But sure, go ahead and call the guy because the sooner we get this numbing sensation going and I can sit down, the better.

Rail-thin Resident comes back in with MJ and asks if I'd like for him to break my water. MJ, standing next to him, looks at me and says, "Yeah, I don't advise doing that. It's gonna hurt like crazy and I think you're doing pretty good on your own." Yeah! You tell him, MJ! Do not touch my water. At this point, I clearly find skinny men who have never experienced childbirth to be highly annoying.

Anesthesiologist comes in and does his magic. I don't even remember an ounce of pain, despite them wanting me to. "You're going to feel a sharp pinch and then a LOT of pressure. Just lean on MJ." Don't tell me what I'm going to feel! Now I'm waiting to feel it! Luckily I didn't feel any of that. Dude was a magician. I laid down in the bed. Time to rest for a minute. Ahhh tingly toes. That feels nice.

MJ leaves the room and Steve and I are just marveling at how I can go from being completely upright and dancing through contractions, to horizontal and feeling not much at all. Just as I started to soak in that feeling, I started feeling another feeling.

"Uh. Steve? You wanna go get MJ? I can't tell if my water is fixin to break, or if a head is gonna pop outta my hooha here in a sec, but I can feel that something is about to fall out. I think it's just my water. Just tell her it's probably my water."

Steve hustles out and MJ comes back in and checks me. She is all business now. Uh oh. "You're complete. That is baby's head. It appears your water already broke. (Me: When? Where? 3am? Is that what was going on?) You're lucky you got that epidural in when you did!" No. No no no. Can we wait a little while longer? You see, I kinda wanted to get a bit of a break in before we do this whole baby thing. Maybe take a nap. Sneak a drink. Eat the pediatric nurse's fudge. Enjoy the view. Watch some tv.

But before there is any time to make my case, the Doubting Doctor and the Rail-thin Resident came in and started breaking down the bed and counting gauze and throwing my legs up into stirrups. "Ok! When you feel the next contraction, you can push!"

Me: I can't feel much of anything, remember? That's why I'm lying here so calmly with a human head wedged in my birth canal. You just tell me when to push and I'll do as instructed.

Them: Uh, ok. Push?

A few pushes later and after Doubting Doctor put on her best soccer mom fake cheer, Will was born! Apparently he pooped himself on the way out. Probably started second-guessing whether or not there was any fudge on the outside. Steve cut the cord and then they laid him on my chest and I loved him- poop and all. Let's face it, I was gushing all sorts of strange bodily fluids by that point anyway, so who am I to judge?

I arrived at the hospital at 11:30, got the epidural at 1:15, and Will burst onto the scene at 1:59. So apparently those last 5cm go pretty fast. And for the record (the record I want to shove down Doubting Doctor's throat), I never "sounded" like I was in active labor. Maybe some people just aren't screamers? Next time (if there is a next time), I will try to be a little more dramatic/theatrical on the phone to plead my case. Whatever it takes to be taken seriously in the medical community.

Will did great though. His 84th percentile head was not warped on the way out and even my "high" BP didn't affect him... He latched on almost immediately and nursed (or ... something?) for an hour. None of my children have ever latched or successfully breastfed, so this was a new and very strange feeling. Epidural wore off, I was moved to a recovery room (with not as much of a view), and Will was brought in after having his assessments done in the nursery. The next latch was not so pain free and easy. I was inquiring as to whether they make epidurals for nipples because I needed one STAT.

Sadly, I was only given a stool softener and an extra strength ibuprofen. Womp womp.

Despite the intense boob pain, I am happy to report that it seems that I can semi-safely say that breastfeeding is going well. I mean, I'm measuring success in terms of wet and dirty diapers and the milk entering Will's body. As for it being a comfortable, natural, bonding experience, my boobs will have to plead the fifth. I won't lie- I've looked longingly at my pump more than once. In a moment of weakness, I even asked Steve to sterilize all the parts so I could pump. My milk came in and Will would not. wake. up. I was dying. Upon opening up my pump (which, if you remember, accompanied us to Korea and sat unused in a non-climate-controlled room for 2+ years), Steve found that all the pump parts were participating in some sort of fungi growth contest and even boiling water was not going to help them. Tears. Eventually Will woke up and saved me from what could only be described as an imminent milksplosion. (Steve went out and bought a manual pump for me the next day for emergencies. Sadly, there is already a small freezer stash. Old dairy cow habits die hard.) Will has proven that he can't follow basic Dairy Queen rules, like "kitchen is closed" and loudly demands to be fed every 40 minutes from the hours of 1am until the big kids wake up, at which point, I just give up and start chugging coffee. Takes a lot of restraint not to pinch his little sleeping cheeks when he immediately passes out at 8am.

So there you have it. All that I can remember at this point about Will's birth and his eating situation.

Final stats:
William Slade (named after Steve's grandfather and mine, both of whom passed away while we were in Korea)
8lbs 11oz
21.5 inches
born December 26, at 1:59pm

first family photo! looks about right.

first black tar diaper change

sweet big sis!

survived the first week!

the biggest reward for all the boob pain

he cannot even

Happy birthing day

Even though I am not celebrating this birthday due to Steve's absence (if I don't celebrate, it doesn't count, right?), I cannot pretend that my birth did not happen, and therefore must thank the woman who made my life possible. Ever since giving birth to Sam two years ago, I have been raging on calmly encouraging others that we should celebrate MOTHERS on birthdays. Kids didn't do jack-diddly, other than cause a few ill-placed stitches and scream for the first eleventy billion hours of their lives. So without further ado, will the lady who endured labor, childbirth (drug-free! way to be!), infancy, sleepless nights (we all know I slept like an angel, she just probably couldn't stop staring at my cute mug), long days, more poop than she ever thought she'd see in her lifetime, moody teenage years, horrible piano recitals, and two grandchildren please stand up?

Thanks, Mama. My appreciation for you LITERALLY grows daily. My admiration grows even faster than that and I'm in shock and awe every time I remember that you did this exact thing that I'm doing now, but with THREE ADDITIONAL CHILDREN. You are my hero.

Happy birthing day to you! I hope you eat an over-sized piece of birthday cake with tons and tons of icing (get that corner piece!) and remember that you deserve every stinkin' bite. I love you and only hope that I can be at least half the mother to my children that you are to me.

The birth story

Both kids are napping! This! is! awesome! Will probably never happen again, so I'm going to type fast.

To update on Molly, she is doing so well. She went to her follow-up appointment with the pediatrician who saw her in the hospital and she is already back up to her birth weight! Day-um! So needless to say, baby girl has a nice appetite. Good thing I'm a cow and make enough milk to keep up with her. She has not yet turned into a monster newborn that wakes up every. single. hour. like another newborn that I barely survived, but sleeps AT LEAST 2.5 hours at a time, and sometimes longer. Hopefully typing that will not cause those lovely habits to cease because then I will be DEVASTATED.

Ok. That about sums up what's happening in Molly's world. I'm now fixin' to get into the birth story, so if you're a male that is related to me, or if you don't want to read any potentially gross details about birth in general, this is where we part ways. See ya next time!

Alright you troopers. Here we go.

After resigning myself to the fact that I would be pregnant for all eternity, I made another batch of fudge. Just. in. case. That evening (Monday), I started having pretty regular contractions. Sam was getting SUPER fussy and in between timing contractions and occupying him, I was kind of over it. Steve kept texting me from work giving me later and later arrival times and I might have gone a little diva on him and told him that I cannot handle contractions, a fussy toddler, and no help anymore. Knowing what's good for his health, he made it home soon after. Steve took care of Sam for the rest of the evening and I bounced around on my ball, timing contractions and hoping this was "it." According to the timer on my phone, my contractions were consistently lasting about 38-56 seconds long, and coming every 5ish minutes. Steve was running around like a crazy person, packing things and running errands and tidying up the house. That is so cute to watch.

After sitting around and watching the contractions until 11pm, we decided to just go to bed. I have read about women who have contractions like this for days with no progression and I was afraid that that would be my story too. So we went to bed and I listened to Hypnobabies. The contractions continued, but I was able to sleep through them. Until.... 3:45am. My Hypnobabies had finished and I was really starting to feel something. So instead of squirming around in bed anymore, I decided I'd go downstairs and time them. And blog. Steve came downstairs around 5. I told him that this was definitely it. Despite the contractions being a little more spaced out in the beginning, they quickly picked up and the intervals between them were rapidly decreasing. At one point it went from 5 minute intervals to 2.5. I was hoping to hold out until around 7, when Sam would normally get up, but after a few more close contractions, I knew we wouldn't be able to hang out here that long. Steve went and got Sam up, Sam was very VERY unhappy about being awakened at such an ungodly hour, and Steve dropped him off at my friend's house. Steve then came home to pick me up. He loaded the rest of the things into the car and locked the front door. As soon as he locked it, he turned around and said, "Oh, did you want me to bring that water with me?" Yes. So he unlocked the door and goes back inside. He comes back out and locks the door again. I asked if he remembered to get the fudge. "Nope." He goes back inside again and gets the fudge (I'll be DAMNED if we don't take that friggin' fudge to the hospital!!!). We finally leave. The roads were kinda crazy because everyone was going to PT. It was bizarre seeing that much traffic so early in the morning, but then again, I am usually tucked in bed at that hour, so clearly I live a charmed life.

We make it to the hospital and park. It's really empty and there is one man at the registration desk. When I pre-registered, the girl told me that women in labor get first priority and get sent straight up to L&D after checking in. So we stood there behind this man (who was taking his sweet sweet time filling out some paperwork), and the woman behind the counter paid us NO attention. I am CLEARLY pregnant and it is CLEARLY 6 in the morning and what in the Sam hill would I be doing at the hospital at that time if not to have a baby??? I finally had enough and just blurted out, "So do we just head on up to L&D ourselves or do we need to sign in?!" She said, "Oh, you need to sign in." And then went straight back to whatever she was doing before. I think the slow man doing the paperwork could feel the fire coming out of my ears, so he stepped aside. The lady behind the desk sent us to one of the rooms where I had previously pre-registered. I have no idea what pre-registering was for, because I basically did it all over again in that little room. Only this time, I was in labor. So obviously that was a barrel of monkeys. The lady doing our registration asked, "So are you here for an induction or a c-section?" I replied, "I'm here for a regular delivery. I'M IN LABOR." She clearly didn't believe me, and although that should be taken by me as a compliment that Hypnobabies was really working, it only served to piss me off. She continued to take her time with everything and then said that once I went upstairs, they were probably going to observe me for about 2 hours. Because, ya know, I'm not really in labor.

We FINALLY get cleared to go upstairs and get settled in a room. The nurse didn't believe I was in labor either and did not even bother checking me when I got the gown on and in bed. She said that they would observe me for another two hours and then see where I was at. I started telling her that I had been timing my contractions for a few hours and they were definitely in the "active labor" category at this point, but that didn't seem to phase her. She finally finished asking me all of her questions and taking my blood pressure and making small talk and THEN she decided that she'd check me. Just for fun, you know. It felt like she was in up to her elbow, and right then I got worried that maybe I had shrunk back down to 1cm. But she looked at me all wild-eyed and said, "Oh. Um. You're 8cm." Ha! Ya think? I explained that I was doing Hypnobabies and it's all about relaxation and blah blah blah and that's probably why you had no idea I was so far along. (aka: TOLD YA SO.)

Now here, I will confess, that despite my immaculate birth plan and Hypnobabies training and prep, I was contemplating an epidural. I even told Steve about it. I didn't want to "fail" at a natural birth (especially since I already knew I could do it!), but thinking about the pushing phase during Sam's birth was literally giving me the shakes. And I mean that I couldn't sit still on the bed because I was so anxious just thinking about pushing. I pushed with Sam for 2.5 hours. And it was miserable. I kept telling the doctor that "this hole is not big enough!" and despite being calm and not screaming or asking for meds, I still did not enjoy it. And apparently those feelings were trapped deeeeeeeeep in my subconscious because it was consuming me at that point. So. Back to the story.

I asked the nurse about an epidural. She laughed it off and said, "Oh honey, you've come this far on your own, I don't think you'll need one!" And while the contractions could still not be classified as painful (thank you Hypnobabies), I could not get my pushing fears out of my brain. So I kept on asking. And she kept on saying that she wasn't sure, they had to do some bloodwork first, yadda yadda. After asking a few more times (aren't they usually PUSHING these things on people?), they finally started the bloodwork needed to be sure I could receive an epidural. But first they had to start an IV. Poor IV lady blew out my first vein. So she stuck me again (in the HAND yamma mamma) and that one took. Then the bloodwork lady came in and got so caught up talking to me about something that she pulled out the needle and slapped a bandage on me before she realized that she forgot to draw blood for the most important test. (OF COURSE) So she started feeling around on my other hand for a vein to poke when I asked, "Can't you just go back through that hole you just made? Or is it necessary to stick me in the hand?" She said, "Oh sure, I figured going back through your arm might be more painful." More painful than the hand? Really? I don't see how. (And it wasn't painful at all.)

Once we FINALLY got all of the excessive needle-poking out of the way, the nurses (Melanie and Melanie- that did my pregnancy brain some good) told me that Bernie would be coming in to do the epidural. They went on and on about Bernie. "Bernie is soooo funny! Bernie is soooo nice! You'll just loooooove Bernie!" Well, Bernie took his sweet time getting in there, and that automatically took points off of his overall score. And then, I kept expecting this super-personable guy to waltz in and make jokes to take my mind off of having a giant needle poking into my spine. But he was much more Lurch-like. He had ZERO personality and instead of being comforting at all during the whole process, he kept telling me what to expect. While that might SOUND helpful, I think it's TERRIBLE. If you tell me that I'm fixin' to experience "a sting and some intense burning" you'd better believe that I'm waiting on just that. Whereas, if you'd just told me I'd feel a slight pinch, I would probably be more inclined to perceive the pain in that way only. Anyways, after Bernie "cleaned" my back (and by "cleaned" I do mean "exfoliated the ever-lovin' skin right off of me"), he did the needle thing and I didn't think it hurt at all. But it wasn't the traditional epidural. It ended up being some sort of titrated drip. Which was fine by me. I had done basically zero research on epidurals at that point and was ok with whatever they suggested. But y'all. The feeling I got from that epidural was WEIRD. Slowly losing the sensation in my lower half was bizarre. The Melanies kept asking me to move in different ways and I just looked at them like they were aliens. I had to pick my legs up to move them anywhere. And forget about my butt. That thing was staying right where it was planted.

After receiving the epidural, I was told that my contractions were seriously slowing down, did I want a bag of Pitocin? UGH. And THIS is why I should not have gotten the epidural. I just knew it was going to lead to intervention after intervention and then it would all affect the baby's heart rate and they would end up suggesting a c-section and my nightmare would come true! Gah! So I declined the pitocin and asked for a re-check in 30 minutes. During this time, the Melanies displayed some super-human strength and adjusted me on the bed so that I was seated very upright. Hoping that gravity would do it's thing, I sat up straight for the next 30 minutes. While this was going on, Steve and I laughed and talked and were really in disbelief that I was in labor. What a different experience from last time! I felt her head move down and then my water broke. (Let's all say a quick prayer of thanks that this did not occur in my living room or the car.) Steve alerted the Melanies and they confirmed that it was clear, baby was fine. Then there was talk of a catheter, and that kinda freaked me out, until I realized that I would not feel (or see! thank God!) anything. The older Melanie stuck the younger Melanie with the catheter job, and I really felt bad for her. But she did a really great job of it and that was probably one of the weirdest feelings ever. Especially since Steve just stood at the end of the bed and WATCHED like she was showing him ESPN or something down there.

After commenting on some pressure down there, Melanie checked me and calmly said, "Ok, well, you're complete. I'll let the doctor know and then you can start pushing." Waaaaahhhh!! It's happening!! I relayed my pushing fears and said that I hoped this would not be another 2.5 hour adventure. The Melanies assured me that this would be super fast. I did not believe them. They go about setting up the room and placing my dead-legs in the stirrups. After I'm all splayed out for God and the world to see, the doctor (did I mention the doc is a dude?) comes strolling in. He sits down and tells me that on my next contraction, try pushing. Well. Melanie waits a minute, checks the monitor, then says, "Um... it appears that your contractions just... stopped." Yep. They would, wouldn't they. So they said, No big deal, we'll just wait for the next one. In the meantime, the doc is still seated down there and continues to just STARE. At this point, I contemplated asking for a mirror, because there is clearly a ball game or stock market numbers or SOMETHING going on down there for these men to be so enthralled. But finally, I said that I think I feel something (not sure whether I actually did, or if I just wanted them to focus on something besides my hooha) and one of the Melanies said that she thought she saw something on the monitor too, so it was cool to start. Y'all. I pushed three times and she was out. I think when they showed her to me, I was really shocked because there was NO WAY that it was that simple. No way. And then to hear that she was a GIRL?! It was more than a little crazy.

Steve followed the nurses and Molly over to the warmer and Steve kept asking them if they thought she was over 8lbs. They said that she didn't look like it, probably not even 8, etc. They took her over to the scale and she clocked in a 8.12.3!!!! Girl was enjoying some fudge, that's for sure.

Doc informed me that I did not tear at all (had a second degree tear with Sam) and that "everything looked good." Well I should hope so with the amount of staring that was taking place. It was (and still kind of is) unreal to me at how fast and easy the whole process was. When we got to the hospital, I was hoping to just be at something greater than 3cm. To hear that I'd gotten to an eight with such minimal discomfort felt like a victory. Getting the epidural, while not originally in my birth plan, proved to be A Very Good Thing. I was truly able to ENJOY the entire birthing experience and had a very short (and non-traumatic) pushing phase.

One of the Melanies asked me afterwards which birth was better. And to be honest? I really can't say. Sam's birth was great. I ENJOYED doing it naturally with Hypnobabies and there was a great personal satisfaction in knowing that my body was capable of doing such things on its own. But Molly's birth was calm and relaxed in a different kind of way and I enjoyed that too. So I can't rate one better or worse than the other. They were both AMAZING experiences and I'm glad to have had them. When/if we have another child, I'm not exactly sure how I'll do things. I'll obviously be employing Hypnobabies once again (because that stuff WORKS), but will just go with the flow for the rest of it.

So, to recap, I started timing the "real" contractions at 3:45am, we got to the hospital around 6:15am. Molly was born at 10:30am. Labor and delivery lasted all of 6 hours and 45 minutes. FAST compared to Sam's 24 hour L&D.

My little chunky monkey is eating like no other and sleeping like I always dreamed a newborn would sleep (meaning: more than an hour at a time). Sam is still working on adjusting to this new situation, but is happy in the meantime to soak up all of his daddy's attention. (I am sort of being ignored at this point. Presumably because I appear to be the sole reason that this new person is here.)

Well, it is time for yet another feeding. Duty calls. And the Dairy Queen must answer.

It's that time again...

Time to start back up with Hypnobabies! Maybe you've heard me talk about HB before, but in case you haven't, HB is hypnosis during childbirth. It can assist you in delivering naturally, with drugs, or via a c-section. I delivered Sam naturally, and it was, essentially, pain-free. No funky breathing, screaming, sweating, puking, cursing, begging for pain meds, or threats towards my husband's privates at all during the process. I'm not advertising that every birth using HB is like that, but that was my experience. I am also not saying that pushing a watermelon through a straw was just another day at the beach, because it wasn't. That was some serious work, y'all. But totally worth it.

Anyways, I've got to start studying up on HB again so that I can be fully prepared for Second Baby's birth. I have a feeling that this kid's birth is going to creep up on me pretty quick. Kinda like Sam has been doing lately when you turn around to flush the toilet, and then turn back around to pull up your pants and BAM! There he is fixin' to head-butt you in the crotch. Stealthy little guy.

To summarize HB in my own words (and take it all with a grain of salt since I am no HB spokesperson), it is self-hypnosis used for relaxation purposes during labor and delivery. But it is so much more than that. The materials you study prior to giving birth give you such a complete education on the childbirth process, what rights you have as a patient, and procedures that you have a say in during and after birth.

For instance, HB taught me about the physical process of during labor and delivery. It taught me how the muscles in our bodies work together to achieve this desired result of getting that baby the hell out of your body. The more you resist, the more pain you will experience. Learning to relax and "go with the flow" will allow your body to accomplish what it was made to do. HB taught me about the different drugs offered during labor and how they work in your body. Some speed things up, some speed things up too much so you need something to slow things down, some slow things down too much, and then you might be faced with a c-section. Overall, I didn't feel like HB was judgey towards epidurals or anyone who wanted something for pain management. They just lay out the facts and let you figure out what will work best for your situation. Since it is an overall relaxation technique you are learning, it can be applied in any birthing situation, even if you end up with a c-section. I would say that going into a c-section would be a good time to employ some relaxation techniques, would it not?

I got into this freaky way of birthing a little bass-ackwards. A pharmacist I worked for in college had mentioned that she was going to use hypnosis to birth her baby, and she was going to do it naturally. I laughed and laughed and told her how crazy she was (lucky for me, I've always had great bosses that don't seem to mind my sassy mouth), but she ended up birthing an almost-ten-pound baby boy pain-free. I didn't believe her. I figured that those endorphins she experienced once that baby shot out were so great that her memory of pain was instantly erased. Pain-free birth. Psh. Get outta here.

So when I got pregnant, she gave me her book on Hypnobirthing. She said that I should read it, and even if I decided not to use it, I would at least get a good laugh out of it. So I took it and promptly lost it. I ended up finding it and reading it on a roadtrip one day. That is when it all clicked for me. It made so much SENSE. It was natural. It embraced the fact that God MADE my body to do this. Women have been doing this naturally for thousands of years! I can do it too! But Hypnobirthing just seemed a little incomplete to me. I searched the internet until I finally found Hypnobabies. This was what I had been looking for. It was a complete educational program that gave me quite a few "tools" to utilize during my birthing time dependent upon the situation. I enjoyed learning about all of my rights as a patient and had never before looked at the healthcare system as a group of people that were working for ME.

I told my doctor what I expected from her as far as interventions and coaching and she let me know the boundaries of what she could allow to stay within her hospital privileges. I lucked out and found a truly amazing doctor that had given birth naturally herself, so she was completely on board with my plans for a natural birth. Thank the sweet Lord in heaven that she was on-call the night I gave birth, because I can't imagine doing it any other way. She was so PATIENT and followed my birth plan to a "T" and even some of the other doctors who didn't think that this HB thing would pan out for me came in to "observe." Originally (pre-birth of course), I was all, "Ew, there will be NO ONE in that room staring at my hoo-ha except my doctor and a nurse. Steve will stay up by my head with the PG13 view." But as things progressed, there were more and more people in the room just WATCHING (not many babies born that night in Richmond apparently) and I was totally fine with it. I was in my own little zone and didn't even notice them there. Plus I think I knew that I would never see a single one of them ever again, so whatever. Stare to your little hearts' content!

I found out later that my doctor (who happened to be pregnant at the time), went to her office next door while I was in labor and ordered HB online for herself. Hearing that made me wanna get up and do one of those cheerleading splits in the air. But I wasn't sure how strong those hospital mesh panties were, and I didn't want to test their limits, so I refrained. I heard from my doctor recently (sadly, she did not move with us to KY) and she told me that she had a wonderful birth experience with HB and was so glad to be a part of Sam's birth. I told her that I will definitely try to plan a pregnancy/birth around Steve's Captains Career Course so that I can be her patient again.

I won't get into Sam's whole birth story or anything, but I am officially 32 weeks along now (YIKES) and this is the time I am supposed to start re-learning all of the HB stuff again, so I thought I'd share. The link to the HB website is here, but you can also email me directly if you want to ask me ANYTHING about my experience with it. I am probably way too willing to share the all of the gross details (just ask Rebekah!), so be ye not afraid!

Happy Birthing Day

Dear Mama,
Twenty-five years ago today you were in the very uncomfortable situation of giving birth to me. Thank you.

Thank you for choosing a natural birth with only my safety (obviously not your comfort!) in mind.

Thank you for choosing to breastfeed me, and I'm eternally sorry if I ever bit you. I can now understand what a huge commitment breastfeeding is, and just how painful it can be!

Thank you for giving me such amazing siblings. While I know that having four children under the age of four had to be ROUGH (in a way that I can't begin to fathom), I truly LOVED having such perfect playmates.

Thank you for raising me in a faith-filled home. Even to this day, when I say nighttime prayers out loud to Sam, I still say, "Bless Mama, Daddy, Daniel, Jennifer, Travis, Matthew, Elizabeth, and all our friends and relatives. Amen." And then I have to back up and include Steve and Sam because, er, they're my family now too!

Thank you for taking us OUT. I know that it had to be zillion times easier for you to just stay put at home. Why would you want to take five kids to the grocery store? Or to a playground? Or anywhere that wasn't our fenced-in backyard? I know now that getting out was not only good for us, but good for you as well, and I'm glad you made such a huge effort to get us all out and doing things.

Thank you for being a stay-at-home-mom. I know that things were tight with only one income, but I never felt like we lacked ANYTHING. My childhood was the best.

Thank you for showing me what a healthy marriage looks like.

I'm sorry for ever making fun of your sweatpants. I totally get it now. I swear.

Thank you for taking us on the long trips to visit our grandparents. While traveling with that many small people (and usually on a Friday during Lent, no less) had to be a stress-inducing event, I appreciate having the chance to form a relationship with the people who raised you and Dad.

Thank you for all of the little notes you left in the lunchboxes during school, the letters and newspaper articles in the mail during college, and the continued notes and articles you still send today. Receiving mail is still really exciting.

Thank you for the gift of college, by-the-way! To not have student loans and outstanding debt lingering over me is such a blessing and I am so grateful for it. Again, I know that had to be TOUGH, what with all the other siblings cycling in and out of college, but I greatly appreciate it.

I'm sorry for not appreciating all of these great things you've done for me sooner. It took me having my own child to fully realize the sacrifices you made and how hard you had to work to make such a great life for me.

Thank you for everything, Mama, and Happy Birthing Day.

Don't forget

Mothers' Day is Sunday!! As in, THIS SUNDAY HURRY UP AND GET YOUR MAMA SOMETHING!! I'm not sure why I'm screaming in all-caps because Steve doesn't even read our blog. Not to worry though, I've been dropping some MAD hints starting three weeks ago about Mothers' Day and how I'm a mother and all and no, I may not be YOUR mother personally, but I am Mother to YOUR CHILD, a child who can't burp very well on his own much less drive to the store and buy me flowers and a sweet card with nice sentiments written inside.

Cute though, isn't he?

We'll see if he remembers or if he wakes up early Sunday morning, realizes his fatal mistake, and makes the Early Morning Trip To Walmart to do the Walk Of Shame to the greeting card aisle with all of the other men who forgot what day it is.

I never gave a TON of thought to Mothers' Day before now, even though I was and am very thankful for my mother and all she's done for me throughout my life. I guess I could never imagine just how MUCH she had done for me until I had a little nugget of my own to care for. And now I know. Mothers' Day now holds a TON of significance as I have a whole new way of looking at my mother. I'm looking at her through Mama Eyes. My own Mama Eyes. And now I have the full-on right to say things like, "I've just got that Mama Feelin'," or, "If you don't stop that right now, I'm gonna snatch you bald-headed!" or, "Let me tell you about your birth... You see, it all started with 23 hours of labor..."

I also don't think so highly of my own birthday anymore. Before I was all, "Oh cake and presents for meeeee!!" but now I'm wondering why on earth Sam would get presents and cake for just surviving another year of life. (Although with us as first-time parents, it is definitely something to be celebrated with wonderment and awe.) I'm feeling that when Sam's birthday rolls around, someone should bake a cake for ME.
"Good job Jenn! A year ago today you worked and worked and worked some more to bring that giant watermelon of a baby into the world! You also shared your body and bodily resources with this (not-so) tiny person for nine months, rendering you the only designated driver for miles around. And since then you've endured months of sleepless nights (and days!), turning your own body into a virtual Dairy Queen, cleaning carrot-poo diapers that stretch from butt to neck, being drenched in stinky baby vomit, and crying over the silliest things, like teeth and diaper rash and the thought of sending the little person to kindergarten. Happy birthday to YOU."
Now that's more like it. I appreciate (times a THOUSAND) what my mother put up with and did for me when I was a helpless, needy, floppy (and possibly very annoying) infant. And not only that, but she did it all with another small person to care for! And then she had twins! Four children under four years old! (Insanity or courage?) Regardless, my hero. I can only dream of having the organizational skills and extreme PATIENCE (my GOD, the patience in that woman) that she possesses.

So... all of that to say, be thankful for your mother. She's done SO MUCH to make you who you are.

And now, a few funny quotes about mothers.

“A mother is a person who, seeing there are only four pieces of pie for five people, promptly announces she never did care for pie.”
-Tenneva Jordan

"There never was a child so lovely, but his mother was glad to get him asleep."
-Ralph Waldo Emerson

"It's not easy being a mother. If it were easy, fathers would do it."
-The Golden Girls

                                                                                   
"My second favorite household chore is ironing. My first being hitting my head on the top bunk bed until I faint.                                                                                               
-Erma Bombeck