No More Mommy Wars Guest Post

Every once in a while I write some pretty controversial stuff on ye olde blog. Three of my all-time most read posts are about religion, politics, and natural birth. But nothing is as controversial as the guest post I wrote for Sarah today.

That's right. I wrote about babies and SLEEP!

Go read it and feel a little bit better about yourself.

Quick Takes

-1-

Can I get these written before anyone wakes up from their nap? I'm already an hour into Hannah's, so it's doubtful.

-2-

Paul.

(this is how far I got  before Hannah started bellowing from her crib )

is sick. A super high fever all day yesterday and he felt so, so awful. Sick babies are the saddest thing in the world. Thankfully, Ted was able to take off to help me. I don't know how I would have handled them both by myself all day. Is that possible? Surely people do it right? But how? How would that logistically work? I can't even wrap my head around it. Hannah will only watch Barney for so long before she needs to eat or try to ruin my attempt to get Paul to nap by reaching in the cradle and stealing his paci. 

He's feeling better today but not over it yet.

-3-

This.

This is called "survival". Notice the diaper going on hour number five. She was entertained for nearly three hours though! At first I tried to make her keep the water in the water table. I quickly gave up. Then I tried to get her to keep her shoes on because, I don't know, I hate dirty feet. I threatened her with, "If you don't keep your shoes on you'll have to come inside." But come on, if I made her come inside she would just be horrible and needy and I wouldn't have been able to care for sick Paul. A threat I had no intention of ever carrying out. Empty threats. Don't act like you don't deal them out too.

-4-

During our porch play she found a lizard that quickly ran away and said, "Mommy lizard! Oh no dont see lizard. Mommy find him! Lizard are you? Oh lizard roof!" Well actually she said "Mommy yiderd. Oh no don see yiderd. Mommy dine him. Yidered are wu. Oh yiderd woof!"

When she go from simple two word phrases to speaking in paragraphs?

-5-

I'm currently drinking one of these

and wishing it wasn't the only one in the house. Don't worry. I'm finishing these up while the kids are in bed. Although an after nap Abita really would have been a pick me up.

-6-

Can I quit after 5?

-7-

I'm going to bed.

How NFP Got Me Pregnant

In honor of Infertility Awareness Week, I wrote a guest post for my friend Haley at Carrots for Michaelmas  about how NFP and NaPro technology were crucial in our treatment of infertility.

Ok, that's a lie. I had no idea it was Infertility Awareness Week until I saw stuff popping up on facebook. And Haley asked me to write the post months ago. The fact that it went up today is a total coincidence. Or God-incidence? You decide.

It's long. And I promise I was doing my best to be brief! Brevity and me, we've never seen eye to eye.

Either way, check out my post and say an (extra!) prayer for all those struggling to conceive or waiting to adopt. Muchas gracias.

St. Gianna, pray for us!
St. Hannah, pray for us!

My View

An Outing

I, being the incredibly brave and adventurous person I am, took both kids to the zuseum today by myself. I know I'm still in that postpartum survival mode time, but I was really sick of sitting in the house and only venturing out for a teeny bit of work and the grocery store. So the zoo/museum or bust.

It only took me about two hours to get everything ready. I'm definitely getting faster.

I usually go with a friend and chat while the kids play, but it was really refreshing to just go by ourselves. Despite the fact that Paul refused to sleep in his carseat, even with the paci and the bumping of the stroller, we survived.

No, we thrived. We really did.

Hannah was unusually well behaved (to say it's been a trying week would be an extreme understatement) and enjoyed every second. And I so enjoy her when she is behaving and enjoying herself. The alligator, who is usually "sleeping" and nowhere to be seen, actually emerged from beneath the water, swam to the edge, and then proceeded to crawl into the woods. I had no idea how huge their legs were. Or that they lifted their bodies off the ground when they walked. And I'm fairly certain I'm going to have nightmares. Totally worth it to watch her excited face as her favorite animal put on a show.

And Paul, who was awake an hour and half longer than usual, was still incredibly chill. His usual self. So lovely. And according to the tag, that adorable outfit he's wearing isn't supposed to fit for another four and a half months. Six weeks, six months. Same thing right?

Oh my huge boy. Six weeks old and already thirteen pounds. Not only have you outgrown newborn clothes and diapers, but you're heading right out of the three months and size ones as well.

My big boy and my oh-so-big girl. She ran the whole way...until she crashed and wanted to be held. And just when I was cussing myself for not buying a double-stroll at the consignment sale last week, she grabbed onto the handle and swung from it like a monkey while I pushed. Which totally worked. I'm gonna be super buff if she keeps this up.

My monkey.

Good behavior even afforded us the chance to hit up the playground.

Those new-to-us pumas definitely helped her swing higher. When did she get big enough for a regular swing? Wasn't she just in a bumbo seat?

Hannah and I talked about the buses and the tractors on the road the whole way home. But we had to shout over Paul's screams. Seriously kid, you better learn to love that seat. If you don't, I may have to buy some earplugs.

I tried to get him quickly into his cradle for a nap before grabbing Hannah from the car. And what I thought was a very sweaty back ended up dripping onto the floor and making a nice orange stain. Thanks for the cute outfit Aunt Jackie-it's covered in poop. Two hours! Two hours Ted and I spent last night trying to get the kid to poop. I knew he had to go and the poor boy couldn't sleep at all. But instead he decided to keep that suppository lodged in there for another 14 hours and go all. over. the. carseat. Not so lovely.

A bath and a clean diaper for the baby. Lunch and a clean diaper for the toddler. All by myself. And I didn't even have to yell!

Naptimes even overlapped long enough for me to write 98% of this blog post. The last 2% was written when Hannah found the remote and helped herself to daytime TV and a peanut butter and jelly on the couch. I could take the remote away like I'm supposed to. Or I could let her get bored with Judge Judy on mute after a few minutes and hide it when she's not looking. Picking my battles, yes I am.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have a carseat to clean.

Naming Paul

Unlike choosing the name for Hannah, I didn't have any say whatsoever in choosing Paul's name. Ted had it picked out before he even met me. I remember the first time I ever heard it. We were sitting on the edge of the fountain at Missouri State. Our freshman year. Not officially "dating" yet-but definitely in love. Even if we didn't know it yet.

He told me that he wanted to name his first son Paul Joseph. I was relieved that I liked the name because I remember hugging him that evening at the fountain and thinking, "This is the man I'm going to marry."

Paul. 

Ted's maternal grandfather whom he loved so much. Ted grew up right next door to him and Grandpa was like a second father. Smoking in the van while he drove Ted around and telling him not to tell Grandma. Watching baseball together on his tiny kitchen TV and offering Ted a Diet Pepsi every time. He was 6 foot, 6 inches tall and proudly wore the nick-name "Pic". As tall and skinny as a tooth pic.

Ted wanted to name his first son after the grandpa he loved so much. Sadly, Grandpa Paul died a few months before our wedding. Our Paul won't get to meet him until heaven, but I'm positive that he'll still learn to love the great man he's named after.

We started trying to conceive our sweet son just months after Pope Benedict declared it the Year of St. Paul (June 29th 2008-June 29th 2009). As the year drew to a close and we realized how much we would struggle with infertility, I prayed and prayed for my Paul to come before the year came to an end. It wasn't meant to be. And we were meant to welcome Hannah first. But Paul did come eventually. And I hope he will come to love St. Paul and his writings, even though he missed the jubilee by about five years.

Joseph. 

Ted's paternal grandfather was Edmund Joseph. His dad is John Joseph. And Ted is Ted Joseph. Ted was adamant about his son having the middle name Joseph to carry on the tradition. There were a few times I tried to convince Ted to have the first name be Joseph-but it was an argument I knew I could never win. And now I'm glad he stood strong-because I learned after we chose Paul's middle name that it was also the middle name of both my maternal and paternal grandfathers! Thomas Joseph and James Joseph. It was just meant to be.

Paul's Brother.

We haven't forgotten about the sweet twin who we lost so early in pregnancy. We waited to name that soul until after Paul was born-choosing to name him the same gender (although we really have no idea.) I knew I wanted Michael from the very beginning. St. Michael the Archangel is one of my favorites. I love that he is my constant defender and protector. I guess I kind of associated his protection with the prayers we are surely receiving from our sweet baby in heaven. So Michael just seems appropriate for his first name. And for his middle name-well I was really hoping the new pope wouldn't pick something weird so we could name our son after him. The name our Holy Father chose is perfect for our son.

Michael Francis.

We love you both so much.

St. Paul, pray for us.
St. Joseph, pray for us.
St. Michael-the Archangel, pray for us.
St. Francis of Assisi, pray for us.

A friend of mine made this rosary for Paul's Baptism. Deep red beads in honor of Divine Mercy Sunday and a St. Joseph medal attached. It's such a treasure. She is so talented!

Check our her shop-Trendy Traditions.

What He Wore Sunday

My outfit was of little importance today, but Paul's was more than noteworthy. In his beautiful baptismal gown, he was baptized into the faith of Christ and joined his Christian family! It was hard not being able to celebrate with any family or his godparents, who are all in Missouri, but we still managed a wonderful celebration with great friends here in Florida.

I had a momentary freak-out Saturday when I realized we didn't get him a gift for the occasion. I did, however, quickly realize that we were giving him the best gift we could possibly give him. Life in Christ. A home in His Church. A Christian family. And Baptism in the Trinity.



My dress was a favorite of mine,  but since you can't even see it I'll save it for another day.

What the men wore:

Gown: the same one that Hannah was baptized in. Made by Ted's mom and cherished so very much. I just love it.

Bonnet: a gift from a friend. It came with a little poem that said it could be his future wife's handkerchief on their wedding day. (Or his mama's hanky when he gets ordained....)

Dad's tie: it belonged to Ted's grandpa, Paul, for whom our Paul is named after.

It's an honor to be your parents, Paul Joseph. We love you so much and are looking forward to sharing the Faith with you.

Welcome to the family!

Welcoming Paul (Parts Two-Four)

Read Part 1: The Awesome Part here.

Part 2: The Sucky Part

We got into our labor and delivery room around 4:00 am. Our doula put all of our things away, taped our birth plan to the door, and turned down the lighting. The nurse filled up the labor tub and I labored on my knees on the bed while I waited.

When the tub was ready I happily climbed in. It was.....just ok. I wasn't expecting it to take away every ounce of pain, obviously. But because I wasn't able to sit down, I couldn't really get comfortable. I squatted against the side of the tub, but that kept half of my belly out of the water which kind of defeated the purpose. And although it did help me to relax, I wasn't loving it. I drank lots of juice and water to keep from getting overheated. Ted, Amy, and I talked to pass the time because at this point contractions had spaced out to every five minutes or so.

I had no idea I was this tired! I thought I was bright eyed and grinning for this picture!

After about an hour I started feeling the urge to push. It was intense and painful and felt weird. I started grunting and straining and didn't know what to do. It didn't exactly feel right to push but it hurt too bad not to. Amy could tell I was heading into transition and got a bag in case I got sick to my stomach. I told them to call the nurse and that I wanted out of the tub. I thought this baby was on his way!

When the nurse checked me I was a seven. Not what I was thinking I would be, but it was still progress. I was more confused than discouraged. My nurse could sense my confusion and told me, "You're definitely in transition Kaitlin. Don't get discouraged." I repeated to myself, "This is transition. This is short. You can do this. It won't last long." in between contractions to sike myself up for what would be taking place. We had been in labor for only five hours at this point but the end was in sight! That was around 5:00 am.

Out of the tub my contractions started to become much more painful. And then the back pain started. Oh the back pain! It felt like my lower back was just going to fall off. Just disconnect from my body like a hubcap would fall off an old car. Amy and the nurse suspected this meant that the baby was sunny-side-up and started talking about different positions that would help to turn him. I labored in the bed on my right side with my left leg propped up high against a peanut shaped birth ball. It hurt. I hated trying to relax through contractions in this position, but I knew we needed to turn the baby. Only a few contractions in, I felt something that felt like turning. It actually felt like the head inside my birth canal just rotated in a circle. I have no idea if this is what actually happened, but I know it hurt.

After another hour of this, around 6:00, I got checked again and was an eight and baby had moved down to a +2 station. Things were moving pretty quickly! Contractions were intense and painful but I was still doing a great job going limp, relaxing, and low moaning through each one.

At 7:00 our nurse was finished with her shift. She told me that our new nurse, Karen, used to be a doula and loved natural birth. Perfect. She also told me that Karen had another nurse with her who was training for the labor and delivery floor. She also had a student nurse shadowing her and asked if would be ok if she came in. I said something like, "Sure, as long as she stays in the corner and shuts up." Our first nurse left and our new team of three nurses came in. It was around that time that my doctor also showed up.

I was still having intense back pain, despite using the birth ball for so long, so he brought in an ultrasound machine and checked the baby's position. Even though I was starting to get pretty groggy at this point, I had the clarity of mind to say, "Don't let us see the gender!" On the screen popped a beautiful little spine-baby was in the "perfect" position.

At this point I had been in transition for nearly three hours. And although I was progressing, it was slow. I hadn't had any sleep since the night before and was getting very, very tired. Our doctor suggested trying to increase the intensity of contractions through either nipple stimulation or pitocin. He pushed for the nipple stimulation first, since it was the natural choice. I was very discouraged. I had gotten out of the tub thinking we were about to meet our baby over two hours before! And now I was being told that I needed to do something to try and make the baby come sooner! I figured if I we had a while to go I may as well get back in the tub. I reluctantly got back in and turned it up as hot as I could handle it. I sat under the faucet and did the nipple stimulation constantly, even through my contractions, which was quite painful.

I was wearing down. I started to fall asleep in the tub between contractions, even though I was trying to do the stimulation. I didn't want to talk or think. I just wanted to sit under the faucet and go to sleep. I started talking about getting an epidural-something I had never done with Hannah's birth. I didn't want it for the pain. The pain I could handle. I just wanted to sleep. I told our nurse I wanted an epidural and she encouraged me to keep going. She talked me into giving her "just one more hour" before talking about it again. I argued for a bit, but consented.

Ted and Amy got me out of the tub around 8:00 and dried me off. We asked to get checked and got wonderful news! Nine centimeters-with just a little bit of a cervical lip! I had the exact situation with Hannah and the nurse just pushed it over her head during the next contraction. I immediately started pushing and out she came.

When I heard that "nine with a lip" I yelled, "Push it over the head!" The doctor told me to push on the next contraction and tried to move the last bit of cervix over the baby's head. Oh it hurt. Oh my did it hurt! Pushing felt strange and weird and painful-nothing like when I pushed with Hannah. Our doctor said he couldn't move the lip and said we needed to just keep laboring. I was pretty distraught. Karen, our nurse, suggested we try squatting to get the baby to move down and get the lip around his head. She broke down the bed and set up the birth bar.

"What do you expect me to do with that?" I asked. She said, "Hang from it like this and squat as low as you can."

Um, not gonna happen. At this point I was so weak that I couldn't even hold my own cup of juice. There was no way my arms could support the weight of my body. Thankfully, Ted knew just what to do. He stood as a post and held me up under my arms and then lowered me into a squat for each contraction. I squatted as low as I could and it was low. My butt was just an inch or so from the floor and once again I was thankful I had done my pregnancy exercises. I can't remember how long we did this-but I was hopeful that it would work after just a few contractions. Our nurse checked us after just a bit and found that stubborn lip still in place.

She tried to push it back, just as our doctor had done. When she couldn't I begged her to just "shove it over the head!" She told me that it would cause permanent damage and that we just had to keep going. I asked for the epidural again.

Once again everyone was encouraging me to keep going. They reassured me that we didn't have long to go. They asked what position I wanted to be in and I couldn't even answer. I had no idea. I couldn't think straight. They got me up on the bed and our doctor suggested we try the nipple stimulation again. They raised the back of the bed and I knelt against it with my arms dangling over the top. Ted did the stimulation because I was too weak at this point. The back pain, which had never gone away, suddenly became intense. I needed someone to apply counter pressure through every contraction. The young nursing student was the lucky one who got to stand behind me, just inches from my bare butt, and push on my back as hard as she could. For over an hour.

I remember being in this position for a really long time. I could barely speak. All I could say was, "Hot. Cold. Nauseous. Back." If I said "hot" they put a wet rag on my neck. "Cold" and they threw a blanket over me. "Nauseous" and they waved peppermint oil under my nose. "Back" and they pushed harder. Amy and Ted were on each side of me. Ted stayed up by my head encouraging me and rubbing my arms. Amy rubbed my legs and tried to get the tension out of my feet. The nurse in training constantly refilled my juice cup and the student nurse pushed on my back. It was quite the team effort.

At some point they moved me onto my side and propped my leg back up on the peanut birth ball. I didn't have the energy to hold my leg up so they had to hold it for me. I slept between contractions, as they were now seven minutes apart. I couldn't voice what I was thinking, but I remember being worried that we were headed for a c-section. I couldn't lift my legs or hold a cup. How was I going to push out a baby? I was still doing great relaxing through each contraction-but I was completely out of energy. Ted was thinking the same thing too, although he didn't want to mention it and make me scared.

Laboring? Or dying?

Our doctor came in around 11:30 and suggested we try pitocin to get the contractions closer together and finally get me fully dilated. He said that we had given the nipple stimulation a chance and that it hadn't worked. He promised it would be on the lowest dose necessary and he guessed that it would work quickly. He was so nice and apologized that we were deviating from our birth plan but assured us that he thought it was for the best.

I was terrified of how painful the contractions were going to get with pitocin. They were already so overwhelming. I asked for an epidural again but everyone reassured me that I could do it. We were so close. After they hooked up my IV, I immediately started whining and moaning and crying. Our nurse asked what was wrong and I said, "It hurts!" She gave me a smile and said, "Kaitlin-it hasn't even gotten into you yet." It was all in my head, but it definitely freaked me out.

Part 3: Sweet Relief

After just 20 minutes on piticon (even though it still wasn't affecting me) I shouted, "I am DONE! I am NOT a martyr! I have NOTHING to prove!"

At least that's what I thought I did. Ted told me later that it more like the faintest whisper. "I'm done. I'm not a martyr. I have nothing to prove."

He knew I had nothing left in me. In Ted's mind, I needed to get the epidural so that I would have enough energy to push. He was worried that I would end up with a c-section if I didn't some relief.

They sent for the anesthesiologist.

At this point I became like the classic laboring women from the tv shows. "Where is he? Tell him to hurry up!" I had completely checked out and just wanted this to go away. I just wanted to go to sleep and wake up and meet my baby.

The epidural man came in at 12:30 and said something stupid like "I wanted to do this at 7:30!" I quickly responded, "Don't make me feel stupid for the decisions I've made." I don't think he heard me and made a similar comment a bit later. I gave my same response but couldn't see his face for his reaction. He went over everything with me. "Do you consent?" I couldn't say yes fast enough. I was still laying on my side and he asked me to sit up. I needed two people to help me. Then he went around to the side of the bed and told me to scoot back. I looked at our nurse with a confused expression. They both said it again. "Scoot back." And I had to ask them what they meant. I could not fathom what they were asking me to do. Our nurse said, "Kaitlin-put your feet on the floor and push your bottom back." I said, "I can't do that." and told the epidural man to "Pull me back!" Apparently that is not part of his job description because he refused and Ted and Amy grabbed both of my sides and scooted me back on the bed. Ted came around to my front and held my hands while I got the epidural. I started praying a Hail Mary and Ted joined me. I whispered Jesus' name over and over again. The only word I said out loud was "Jesus" but in my head I was praying "Jesus-please let this work. Jesus-please don't let me have serious complications. Jesus-please don't let me regret this. Jesus-please don't let this lead to other interventions." I was scared, but managed to stay still through each contraction until it was over.

One more heinous contraction and then.......nothing. Zip. Nada. They told me I could probably still move my legs-which I could. I wiggled my toes and flailed my legs around in bed. As weird as it was, I could actually move them better now than I could before the epidural when they were so tired and tense. Every few contractions I felt some pressure, but it was nothing. The nurses told me to rest, but instead I started texting.

As I texted our nurse looked back over the monitoring strip and informed me that my contractions had been seven minutes apart and three minutes long for the past several hours. Three minutes. As in-two to three times longer than contractions are supposed to be! My immediate reaction was, "I am a rock star." And I felt sort of justified for "giving in" to the epidural.

They turned up the pitocin just a bit to try to get that last half a centimeter to finally go away. Ted left to get something to eat and I called Summer to see how Hannah was doing. She told me that when Hannah woke up that morning and saw Summer instead of me she said, "Mommy home?" Summer told her no and she immediately said, "Hospital. Baby!" My girl knew exactly what was going on and wasn't upset in the least. I cried. I missed her. I had been away from her for so long and when I saw her again she would be a big sister. It was the first time in hours I was able to think clearly and process my emotions.

Part 4: Time to Push

The room was bright. The windows were open. I was finally comfortable and clear headed and just sat and took it all in. After only a half hour, they checked me and said we were ready to push! I was shocked-I guess I still thought we had hours ahead of us. But that's all it took-a half hour of pitocin and I was finally fully dilated! Amy had just left to get something to eat so I asked if we could wait for her to get back. I felt no urge to push and honestly, I wasn't even in a hurry. I was just so relieved to be out of that horrible transition that I didn't mind just chillin' in bed sipping juice. Amy was taking a while to eat so we decided to start pushing without her. She walked in right when we were getting started.

I had had so many fears about pushing with an epidural. All the natural birth books and classes tell you that you won't have the urge to push and won't be able to push effectively. It was partly true. I had no urge to push and couldn't tell you if I was in the middle of a contraction or not. But push effectively? That was easy. I just, well, pushed! I happily let them hold up my feet for me, held my thighs back, and pushed when the nurses told me to push. I had talked to my doctor before about trying to prevent tearing and he was really trying hard to keep me all in one piece. He had me take a break every few contractions so that the baby wouldn't come too quickly. He would tell me to not push on the next contraction and I thought, "No problem. I don't even know when it is!"

I watched in the mirror as that little patch of hair got bigger and bigger. The student nurse was by my side and couldn't contain her excitement. "Oh wow. Oh my gosh. That's amazing." I later learned that it was the first birth she ever witnessed! I was so happy that she was there. She just brought such a sense of awe to a room full of people who see this all the time.

One big push and we had a head! And an arm! Right after his head popped out his little arm came with it. The doctor and both nurses immediately sighed and said, "That explains the lip!" He had his hand up by his face the entire time, preventing me from fully dilating when the contractions were so far apart. Our doctor did some fancy maneuver to turn the baby and avoid any problems. Then he gave him a mohawk while we waited for the next contraction. One more push and his body came right out. I couldn't see his face.... but I could see his penis!

"A boy!" I didn't need to announce it. It was easily apparent to everyone in the room!

He didn't cry at first. The doctor held him upside down for a bit while the nurses suctioned him. He had a lot of mucus because he came so quickly. My shock at finding out he was a boy quickly changed to concern. "Why isn't he crying? Why isn't he crying?" It was probably only a few seconds, but it felt like a lifetime. And because I couldn't see his face, I didn't know that he was fine. The nurses weren't concerned at all, I was the only one afraid. And then...a scream. Followed by a wale. Followed  by another scream. "Gimme my baby!"

They put him on my bare chest and all I could think was, "He goes completely across the width of my body!" He was huge! And loud! I cried and held him and kissed Ted and tried to get him to nurse.

But he was too interested in screaming.

For the next 55 minutes.

The baby I thought wouldn't cry now didn't know how to stop.

Our doctor, who is also a family practice doctor, got up and checked his shoulder. He was concerned that maybe he had pulled a muscle, or worse, because of his arm coming out early. Thankfully, everything was fine.

But he still wouldn't stop screaming. The nurses speculated that he may have had a headache from his awkward position.

When the doctor was finished with me, he stood up and said, "My guess is 9 pounds." My jaw hit the floor. Surely he was wrong. But when the nurses came in later to check the weight: 9..... and a HALF!

I just birthed a 9 pound, 9 ounce baby! He was 21 3/4 inches long and had a 14 1/2 head circumference. That's a huge head. And, thanks to the epidural that allowed me to push slowly, I didn't even tear.

My parents, who started driving down from Missouri when I went into labor, arrived about a half an hour after he was born. The timing was perfect. When they walked in I said, "He won't stop screaming!" "He?? A boy?" After three girls and one granddaughter, my dad finally had a boy.

I tried everything to calm him down and get him to nurse to no avail. Finally, after almost an hour I gave him to Ted. Ted swaddled him and shushed him and he immediately fell asleep. I guess he just wanted his daddy. Ted looked at me with tears in his eyes. "A fishing buddy." And then it was my turn to cry.

After Ted had some snuggle time he gave him back to me and he nursed like a champ. I was finally able to enjoy my son. He was beautiful.

Fourteen hours of labor. Seven and a half hours of an absolutely hellacious transition. One hour of an epidural. Twenty-one minutes of pushing. One hour of screaming. And I finally had my sweet baby in my arms.

Paul Joseph-you were worth the wait.

Welcoming Paul (Part One)

Part One: The Awesome Part

Even though I try not to put too much stock in due dates, I was fairly confident that this baby would be born before his due date. When February 24th came and went, I wasn't too discouraged. But when March rolled around I was getting very impatient. I was doing everything imaginable at this point to try to put myself into labor. Eating an entire pineapple, crawling around on my hands and knees, and lots of "the act that got the baby in there in the first place"). By Sunday, March 3, one week past our due date, it felt like this baby would never get here. My mind played mean tricks on me all day and I was really trying hard to keep it together.

When I finally I crawled in bed around 11:00 that night, I got the slightest feeling that something might happen soon. I didn't want to hope for much, but something told me that it was time. At 11:30 I felt my first contraction while laying in bed trying to sleep. I breathed through it, trying not to wake Ted. A few more came pretty close together and were starting to really hurt. I got out of bed around midnight and killed time online while standing and doing pelvic rocks. The contractions immediately faded, just like I thought they would. I got back in bed at 12:30 and had a strong contraction within seconds. I decided to count its length to see if it lasted a whole minute. When I got to eight.....

pop. gush.

I sprang up and yelled, "My water just broke!" Ted turned over and said, "Are you sure?" Oh I was sure. Absolutely sure. I felt like the baby just reared back and kicked a whole in my uterus. Although I was excited to finally be in labor (and have such a clear sign that this was really it) I was nervous about what this meant for labor. At this point we weren't sure if the baby was sunny side up or in the right position. And I knew that a posterior baby and no watery cushion in my womb could make for a very difficult labor.

I put on the depends and started talking about what we needed to do. I called our doula, Amy, and she said she was going to take a nap and then come over. I labored in the bedroom for a little while, then decided to bake some cookie dough I had frozen. I wanted to stay busy so I wouldn't focus on the contractions too soon. Before the cookies even finished baking though, I told Ted to start packing the car. Contractions were three minutes apart and I was needing his support to get through them. I felt a lot of pressure down low and was uncomfortable sitting. I found myself on my knees or squatting during contractions. I told our doula to come on over and we called our friends, Chris and Summer, to come spend the night with Hannah. I packed the last minute things in the suitcase and tried to stay calm and not get too excited or anxious. Ted thought I was jumping the gun-since we had labored at home for 15 hours before heading to the hospital last time.  But something just told me that this one was going to be different and that we needed to hurry.

Ted was having trouble getting the car packed because he had to keep stopping to help me through contractions. He was amazing. It was like no time had passed since Hannah's birth and he knew exactly how to coach me through labor. He knew just what to say and how to help me relax. I found myself going completely limp with each contraction and was gaining confidence that I would be able to handle this again for the second time around. When Amy arrived around 2:00 am she could see that things were progressing quickly and that Ted needed a chance to finish getting everything together. She suggested I take a shower to slow things down a bit. I obliged and hopped in the shower while she stayed with me. Ted finally had a chance to finish everything up and I did a great job laboring in the shower. After several minutes Summer popped her head in the bathroom to tell me they were there. A few minutes later Ted came in to tell us that we were ready to leave. Amy later told me that I asked Ted, "Is Summer here yet?" even though I had just spoken to her. I was already starting to get a little confused and out of sorts.

I desperately wanted to go in and see Hannah before we left, but I didn't want to risk waking her. I held back tears thinking about how long I was going to be separated from her. I was glad she was asleep, but it was hard to not get to say goodbye. After snapping a picture and giving Summer some last minute instructions for Hannah, we got in the car and headed to the hospital.

Ted was excited to have an excuse to speed. I had several strong contractions in the car and was forced to get off my bottom in the seat. It just hurt too much. Just like last time,we prayed on the way to the hospital since it was the first time we were able to just sit and be alone together. We made the trip,which usually takes 20 minutes, in only twelve. We parked the car and headed up the elevator around 3:00 am. Check in took forever and I stood at the counter and swayed through my contractions. From there, we went to triage which took even longer.

We were the only couple in the giant triage room, yet we had to wait at least ten minutes before being seen by the tech. She told me to get up on the bed. Which I did. Kneeling. She looked at me like I was crazy but I told her I wasn't going to sit down unless I absolutely had to. She acted like I was crazy and tried to figure out how to put the oxygen sensor on my finger when I wasn't in the usual position. Finally a nurse came and it was the moment of truth.

6 centimeters!

So much relief. So much happiness. We had only been in labor for three and a half hours and I was already a  6! Our nurse asked about our plan for pain management and I told her we were prepared for a natural birth. To which she responded, "I love natural birth couples!" When we gave her our birth plan she said, "I love birth plan couples!" I asked if she would be our nurse in the delivery room and she said no, but later she came back and said she switched duties so she could stay with us. We headed back to the labor and delivery room to have a baby! I told her to call ahead and get that labor tub ready. I was really excited to have the opportunity to labor in the tub this time around.

Ted and I may have high-fived on the way to the room. So excited to be so far along this quickly and easily. Our nurse told us she was off work at 7:00-three hours away. But I knew we'd have a baby by then.

And that was the end of Awesome.

Read the rest here.