The fourth child syndrome

While I don't have a baby book for Eliza (for either of my last two kids, actually) I do have these.  I imagine its probably a better option than me forgetting to write in her baby book anyway. 

 

A year

Its amazing how quickly a year can go by.  (It always seems so much faster when the kids are really little.  Maybe because they change so much in a year?)

 

 

From this:

 

 

To this:

 

Inside, night time pictures are never good.  I'm glad I got a few earlier in the day.

Guys, this girl.  She melts me heart.

slight birthday depression

I'm normally nostalgic around birthdays.  Especially first birthdays.  But, y'all, Eliza's birthday is coming up in 2 days and I'm almost bordering on depressed.  I mean, I am glad she's alive, thriving, and turning one (obviously) but I've just been so sad.

I'm sure its a mixture of lots of things.

Isaac stopped sucking his fingers after his accident.  It seems so grown up.  Its sad.  He's growing up.  Which means Eliza WILL grow up.  She's likely our last baby.  When I think on that, I think about all of our babies that we'll never get to celebrate birthdays with. 

Its a downward spiral into an emotional pit.

So, for once in several months, I'd like for my baby's birthday just to hurry up and get here already.  So I can get over this funk.

See you Thursday.

Tracy

He has me in stiches

Zeke's ankle bracelet



Saturday evening, we had to make our second, ever, E.R. visit. (Unfortunately, it was for the same child. He had a concussion before.)

We were heading to Grandma's house for dinner. Isaac asked to wear his Cars jammies. I mean, it was almost dinner time, we were just going to grandma's house, and he'd be changing into his jammies there soon anyway. Why not let him wear p.j.s?

Well, it turns out that we did make another stop. As we were getting everything/one loaded into the van, Isaac climbed up into his seat, as usual. He leaned over the edge to look at something (we think here. Not really sure.) and he fell out of his seat, out of the van, onto the garage floor. He bit all the way through his lip.

Now, as it happens, E and I weren't standing right there. I was getting food, diapers, etc. for Eliza in the house. E was loading up the back of the van. All of a sudden, I hear E yell my name. He yelled it in such a way that I knew some body had to go to the hospital. He brought in a screaming Zeke, completely covered in blood. (Y'all, it was so much blood. All over my sweet babies face, shirt and hands.)

I quickly grabbed a wet towel to put pressure on it. After I held it there for a second, I lifted up the now very bloody rag (which, of course, was a stark white burp cloth of Eliza's. oh well. She took one for the team.) and saw how bad it really was.

Thankfully, the other three kids were already buckled in their seats, waiting to go to grandma's. We rushed to the brand new E.R. right around the corner (which, in hindsight, we should've gone to the ped's E.R. Its a longer drive, but usually a shorter wait. Plus, much better for kiddos.) They sort of freaked when they saw blood all over him. We hadn't taken the time to clean him up. I just put pressure on it, drove with me sitting next to him keeping pressure on it. I hadn't even thought of the blood elsewhere.

We then proceeded to wait for 3.5 hours. Through out the course of the 3.5 hours, Isaac kept a diaper (cloth) pressed up against his lip. (He said the pressure made it feel better.) He was mostly calm, snugly, unless he had to take the pressure off for a nurse/orderly/doctor to check his lip. Then, it would start bleeding again, and he'd start crying again.  

 



 

At one point, he even got up and played with the sand table.  It didn't last long, however, because he couldn't do much with one hand.  When he let go to try to slide the critters over, he started screaming again.

 

Thankfully, my IL's came and got O and A right away.  They ate dinner at their house.  Eliza hung with us for a while.  E was chasing after her while I snuggled Zeke.  After hour 3, we had them stop by the hospital to pick up Eliza (after I nursed her) and take them all to our house to go to bed.  

 



 



 

 

One of the hardest times in my parenting career previously was watching a very tiny, and very dehydrated, O get an I.V. They couldn't find a vein and it was very rough.  Watching Zeke get his stitches was right up there with that, guys.  I was secretly balling inside.  They swaddled him in a blanket, then removed his diaper (which he kept screaming "I need my rag!!") then they held him down while the dr. injected the litocain into his wide-open lip.  It was terrible.  There was blood every where (since it started bleeding like crazy again when they took off the diaper.) he was swallowing it, and they just kept sticking him with the needle. 

 

The actual stitches went much better, but they covered his eyes.  He kept calling out for E and I, and we kept reassuring him that we were there, touching his knee/foot/leg, etc.  

After all of that was finished, all he could concentrate on was the strings in his lip.  He kept begging us to take them out.  That was when the nurse took him to pick out a Popsicle. (hurrah!) 

When we got home, he had some apple sauce and crashed. (by then, it was 9:30.) 

 

 

 

The day after:

 

He doesn't seem to mind the stitches much now.  The hardest part has been his inability to suck his fingers for comfort.  He's having a really hard time falling, and staying, asleep.  So, he's extra tired, and he can't even comfort himself when he's grumpy/angry/sad/frustrated either. *sigh* 

 

So, that was our Saturday evening.  While it was an adventure, I think I'd rather hang out at home in our jammies next time. 

I hate co-sleeping

There.  I said it.  Go ahead and get your stones ready.  I know they'll be zooming my way after that title.

Here's the thing, though.  I've always been one that says "whatever works" when it comes to babies and sleep.  I'm not passionate about co-sleeping.  I'm not gung-ho about crib sleeping.  I'm just pretty in love with sleep itself.  Where ever and however that takes place.

When my babies were all itty bitty, they all slept with me (or on me, actually).  All four of them wanted to be in very close contact those first few weeks.  It was fine, and it worked for us because we GOT SLEEP!

Then we moved them to the bassinets/cradle/rock and play right next to our bed, where they stayed for various amounts of time (6 mths, 6 mths, 4 mths, and 8 mths).  I slept better with them near me, but not in our bed (I'd have nightmares about the baby being under the covers, or smothered by E.  I never slept peacefully.) We slept well that way.

We moved them into their cribs when they were too big for their bedside sleeper (or in Isaac's case, when I had to give it back to the person I was borrowing it from).  This is where my kids' sleeping split in half.  O and Isaac handled the transition well.  They were both pretty good sleepers on their own, (Isaac had his fingers to suck for self soothing) and continued to do fairly well in the crib.  A and Eliza were/are different.  We desperately searched for ways to get them to sleep longer/more, with no avail.  Co-sleeping was one of the first things we tried, since it made the most sense. 

Guess what.  I hate it.  Its our only option at this point (long story.  Plus, I don't want to have more rocks thrown at me than I have to.)  I hate that its our only option.  Because its not really "working" either.  Sure, she's getting a little more sleep.  But, not me.

Co-sleeping at 9 months is NOT like co-sleeping those first early weeks and months.  Then- all snuggles, nursings, and sleeping.  Now- hair pulling, face grabbing, standing, crawling, and NOT sleeping.  Its one of THE most aggravating things- to lay down with your baby, craving sleep, only to be baby finger-nailed in the eye.

 3am party time for babykins and mommy?  oh, sure.  If you were MY FIRST CHILD!  What?  I can't move an inch, because if I do, it'll wake the beast baby?  Fine.  I'll lay perfectly still.  All.night.long.  King sized bed?  no problem.  Baby will fill that bad boy up so that I have to hug the side, teetering perilously on the edge.  Also, how about a nice, urine filled diaper in your face at 2am?

So, tell me this- how is it that my co-sleeping mommas seem so rested?  Because, I'm getting very little rest.

New tricks and teeth!

I'm sort of using this post as a test.  I was/am trying to re-do my blog template.  First off, I want to shoot my computer for not doing what it needs to do.  Secondly, I'd like to scream at photo shop for not allowing me to bring my background of the banner to the fracken front with out completely blocking out my picture.  Thirdly, I am this [  ] close to just calling it quits because I know it SHOULD work, I just don't know how to fix it. Lastly, I'd like to show blogger my wagging finger since it won't let me take the easy road and just insert a super cute, ready to go template.

Ahem.

Eliza has some new tricks.

Crawling like this.  Its pretty funny.

Two new, very sharp, teeth!

She learned how to scrunch her nose and sniff. (Of course, I cannot get a clear picture of this, since she moves constantly when she does it!)

My favorite of the bunch is this new trick:  making kissy noises and faces. 

I die of the cute.

These kids

This kid.  He's something else, guys.  He's a ham.  He, over night it seemed, starting talking in full sentences pretty much all of the time.  (Which is something, since his older siblings have regressed into talking in one word sentences and grunting when they want things at the table.)  He learned a new word from A, "boobie".  Which is, um, interesting.  (Of course, I couldn't punish A, because he then proceeded to ask me what a "boobie" was. After which O pointed to her chest and said "these little pointy things."  So much for always calling body parts by their real names.  Breasts, people.  BREASTS!)

  Zeke constantly hits his head, though.  Constantly.  He currently has 7 bruises and a carpet burn.  On his head.  Also, the GI doctor thinks his constant pooing is toddler diarrhea.  Which can last until age 5. Fun.stuff. At least its nothing serious.

He's also become very self-efficient.  A few days ago, I didn't come down stairs right away (ahem.  I fell back asleep after E woke me up and left for work.  Note to self- DO NOT CLOSE YOUR EYES after E wakes you up to get up with the kids.)  He had pushed a chair over to the pantry, got out a tortilla and peanut butter, and was spreading pb over the tortilla.  meanwhile, the big kids were sitting at the table, waiting for me. He was hungry.  He wasn't waiting around.

These big kids have been busy playing outside, enjoying the weather.  O was diagnosed as FTT again, like I mentioned previously in this post.  After 2 weeks trying to increase her calories and protein per the dietitian, the child LOST a pound.  I kid not.  How does that happen?!?  So, now we're trying some protein/meal replacement drinks.  Except, she hates them.  And she cries about how full she is and she doesn't want to drink them anymore.  After 3 nights of that, I went out and bought some Bolthouse Farms chocolate protein drinks.  She doesn't have to drink as much (4oz versus 8 oz) and they don't taste like glucose drinks.

Then there's this kid.  She is so fun.  But, not at night.  When she's not fun.  Rather, she's anti-fun and, apparently, anti-sleeping-alone.  She takes stellar naps, alone, in her sleeper.  But, the past week has been terrible for night time sleep. Boo. 

We had our appointment with the GI yesterday.  He told us, (wait for this information, its totally NEW information,) she's allergic to dairy.  (See!  I told you.  Totally NEW information and not information we've suspected since December.)  The appointment wasn't a total bust.  I did sneak in two questions about O and I, which he happily answered.  Score! 

However, for miss Eliza, there's not a whole lot more I can do for her besides avoid dairy protein.  We'll probably get around to starting food here before too long.  We were waiting to make sure she wasn't allergic to soy or something funky.  The GI just said to make sure to only introduce one food at a time, with sufficient wait time in between foods, since she has more of a risk of other allergies because of her dairy allergy, and to wait until she's 6 months old.  Check there, good buddy.  Frankly, I'm thinking about waiting until 8 months.  I'm pretty sure I don't want her to be eating real people food on our trip to PA next month.  I don't want to hassle with that.  Because I don't want to.  Because I'm not sure she's ready.

To end, I am going to shamelessly ask you to vote for miss Eliza.  Because you love me, and/or you think she's cute. :)  http://photos.parents.com/parents-cover-contest-2012/17/2012/4239

Little E's birth story- an outside perspective

I asked my friend, D, who was at Eliza's birth, to write a birth story for me.  One, because it's sometimes tricky to really remember things correctly in your own birthing mind.  Pain tends to blur the boundaries of time.  3 minutes seem like 30.  It's neat, and special, to have another view of Eliza's birth to post here, and to put in her scrapbook to read when she's older.

I may interject with my own personal thoughts through out her narrative.  Maybe throw in some pictures, too. :)  I hope you don't mind, D.


There's something really special about watching a new person join the world. I was lucky enough to have T at my birth with C and part of my labor with Miss L and she was kind enough to let me join her and E for her labor & delivery with Miss E.

I can't say that I wasn't nervous, because although T is my closest friend, I've never actually seen a birth before. Also, I have absolutely no experience helping people (besides myself) through having a baby!! I was hoping I would end up being some help, or at least a distraction. (in a good way!) I knew that at the very least, I could take some pictures!

Poor T had contractions for days (not even exaggerating!) and when she texted me that night that she was going to the hospital to be checked, I had a feeling that she would be staying. I got dressed (yes, I was in my pajamas) and waited to hear from her. When she texted again she said she was about a 7-8 and was staying. I think that was about 8:30 PM and I was ready to go! I got to the hospital around 9, maybe a little later... I really can't remember. (you have a good memory, D!  I just checked my texts and you asked for my room number at 9:10)

T had had her water broken by the time I got there and the contractions were painful. We chatted a bit, and she was doing great breathing through the contractions. We talked about names, I think, but I still didn't know what they were going to choose. In my head, I thought they would pick the name Amelia so it was a lovely surprise when I heard her real name!

Then, transition hit. How do I know? Because T said she couldn't breathe and was going to die. I know that feeling and you really think that you will die.  (T here again. Seriously.  There's no way to explain it to someone else.  You just have to experience it to know that you really think you might die.)  I have to say that T's husband E did an excellent job of coaching her. There were a couple of times during the night that E turned very pale, but he sipped some soda and seemed to recover just fine. He tried to make sure that getting an epidural was what she really wanted, and I tried to mostly stay out of the way. I know from my own experience that when I felt like dying I really didn't care about a drug free birth, or my husband, who else was in the room or anything but making the pain stop or getting the baby out. NOW.

At this point I felt like I was mostly just getting in the way. (You weren't!) I couldn't think of one good thing to say or do that would actually be helpful so I erred on the side of trying not to annoy anyone. Now I know how my husband must have felt when I was in transition!

I'm sure it felt like an eternity, but from the time the nurse (who was very good, by the way) went to get the anesthesiologist and the time he got there, it could not have been more than 10 minutes. He was very friendly, and thankfully for T, very fast. I tried not to watch the epidural all that much, because I saw the needle and it looked... really big.

My curiosity got the best of me and I did watch a little. It was interesting, being on the other side of it and just getting to watch. It was at this point that I was pretty glad I wouldn't be having any more babies!

I simply cannot recall what time it was when T got the epidural, but it was definitely at some point after 10 PM. Maybe 10:30? I'm sure T remembers better because that was probably when she realized she wasn't going to die after all. I could tell instantly when the medicine hit her. She could breathe again and open her eyes and the contractions were bearable, although still obviously painful.

It wasn't that much later that T said Miss E was coming. At this point I was really trying to stay out of the nurses and doctor's way (There are a lot of people in there during a delivery. A fact I never noticed nor cared about when I was on the delivering end.) and have my camera ready. Some of my favorite pictures are those that T took for me during C's birth, and I wanted to get some for her.
I remember at some point the doctor said "Don't push!" and T assured them she wasn't. (I wasn't!) It was clear Miss E had taken her sweet time getting to the labor stage, but now she was ready to come out and she wasn't waiting! It seemed like there was basically no pushing and there she was! A sweet, screaming, dark haired little beauty! At this point I changed my mind and I was quite sad that I wouldn't be having any more babies.

It was still before 11PM - 10:53 I think? - when she was born. E cut the cord and they whisked her away to be weighed and measured and cleaned up a bit. (Did I tell you that this is the FIRST child he's ever cut the cord with?  He thought since she was probably our last he should do it once.)She screamed a lot for a newborn; I think she just wanted her mommy. It's amazing to think about meeting a little person that just 9 months ago, didn't even exist. A brand new little miracle!

I think it was while you were taking these pictures, D, that you kept telling me she had hair, but I didn't believe you.

 Birth is a lot of things; painful, messy, uncontrollable, amazing, & miraculous! I feel pretty blessed to have been able to experience it in a new way. Thank you, T & E, for sharing it with me!


Thanks, D, for being such an amazing friend and writing a birth story for me!  I can't imagine anyone better to share the birth of our daughter with! Muah!

A birth story

Where do I begin the story of Eliza's birth?  The Thursday before, when I went to the hospital with contractions then got sent home later when they stopped?  Probably not, but E tells me I can "count" all of those painful hours when I tell Eliza about her birth when she's older.

Monday morning, the 17th of October, I had a dr. appointment.  At my appointment, I was 4 cm dilated and 70% effaced.  (which was improvement from Friday morning when I was only 2.5cm.)  Dr. C. thought she'd see me later that evening.

I had contractions all day Monday, and all night Monday night.  When I say all night, I mean ALL. NIGHT. LONG.  They were about every 10 to 15 minutes apart and painful when I was laying down. 

Tuesday rolled around and I was still contracting every 10ish minutes.  More often when I was standing or walking around, and a little less often when I was sitting. 

I actually decided to go to bible study, since I couldn't really do anything at home but sit there and pray little girl came out soon.  Half way through, though, I got very tired and decided to head home early. 

I laid down for a nap when Isaac did, but continued to have contractions.  Still the same strength and no closer together. 

E happened to forget that Tuesday is dance for O, so I took all 3 kids to dance class.  During the class, I took the boys to Walmart to 1. get out of the dance studio, and 2. get some groceries.  While we were there, my contractions started to hurt a little more and a little more.  However, they weren't any closer together.

When we all got home, I was close to tears. (okay, I was IN tears.)  I was so tired from not sleeping and contracting all day.  I decided to call my doula to see if she had any suggestions for stopping the contractions.  (unfortunately, she was at the beach...)  She suggested I take a bath and see if it slowed the contractions down or sped them up.  I took a hot bath and nothing happened.  Contractions were still the same.  My doula then suggested I go get checked at the hospital.  Just in case.

But, I didn't want to go to the hospital.  Again. And get sent home.  Again. 

At this point, I did what every grown woman would do.  I called my mommy, sobbing.  I was just so dang tired.  She prayed with me and for me to have wisdom to know what to do (wait it out or go get checked.)

After a few more contractions, I decided we should probably go in to get checked.  We called my IL's again, and headed to the hospital. 

When we got there, it was crowded and we had to wait a little bit long time. While we were waiting, I noticed my contractions seemed to have slowed down.  A lot.  Like I only had one or two while we were waiting.  I looked at E and told him "I think we're definitely going home."

My name was finally called.  We went back with the nurse and the first thing I told her was that she was probably going to have to send me home since my contractions had stopped.  I told her if I was the same as the day prior, I wanted to go home- and maybe with some Ambien to help me sleep if needed.

The nurse started checking me at 8:20.  She got a very puzzled look on her face, like something was wrong.  She picked up her phone and called the night shift's head nurse.  She says "It feels like my patient is almost complete.  can you come check?"  What??  While she was continuing to check I had a contraction.  Then she says to us "oh, I guess when you contract you're a loose 7 to 8. You're not going home."

I couldn't believe it.

I called my friend Devan to come to the hospital.  (I had originally waited to call her until we knew what was going on, if they were going to keep me or send me home.  Especially after thursday's events.) 

The dr. on call came in to chat with us around 8:45.  I asked how long my body could contract only every 15 minutes.  How long would it take to deliver.  She said it could go on a very long time.  She couldn't be sure.  I decided to go ahead and have my water broken.

I completely forgot how bad it hurts with contractions after your water is broken in comparison to before.  If you don't know or remember-it's bad.

My body quickly went from barely contracting to having contractions every minute, then having them right on top of each other with a 5 second break.  It's somewhere around here that I decided I was dying.  (I now know it was transition, but it really was almost unbearable.)  I went ahead and screamed at told the nurse I wanted my epidural.  (I was dilated to a 9 at this point.)

(a side note: E was trying to talk me out of the epidural, since he knew I wanted to have a natural birth.  Devan was telling me she knew what it felt like to almost die.   I just wanted it to stop.  I believe one of my comments during this time was "Who's bright idea was it to do this naturally anyway?")

Those few minutes from the time I asked until the time it came were the longest of my life. (I was recounting it later and told E it seemed like 30 minutes.  He said, in reality, it was about 5.) After the epidural was all in, I was still having a lot of pain with my contractions.  The dr., who was still there, said that was because I got the epidural at 9cm versus 5cm, etc. 

Somewhere around 10:45, I was having some pressure with my contractions, but not constant pressure.  I thought we should let the nurse know.  The dr. came back in and checked me.  I told her that it was hurting.  The dr. said "that's because she's ready to come out."  While the nurse put my legs in the right places and the dr. was getting dressed, it started to hurt really bad.  The dr. glanced over and said "ha!  that's because she's half out!  don't push!"

Now, there's a phrase I've heard in prior birth experiences.  And, it's a big.fat.joke.  I wasn't pushing.  I was contracting.  The baby was just coming out.

Luckily, the dr. was in the room, so she came over to talk to me and told me to go ahead and push whenever I felt like pushing.  I gave a push, and the pain was so intense. (I asked later about the pain, and my OB said, again, it was the time issue.  the epidural just didn't have a lot of time to get into my system.) I was certain that if I continued to push, I'd tear like I did with Isaac (super bad, people.  I won't go into detail, but 30+ stitches.) I asked if she could give me a small episiotomy (my regular OB and I had talked about this prior to my pushing.  that was our original plan to avoid the damage I had with Zeke.) She gave me a tiny little cut, and the baby came sliding out.

Now, when I look back on those last few minutes, it seems like it took forever.  In reality, E said it was 3 minutes from my first push to birth.  3 minutes. Total time from getting into my room to birth: 2 hours and 33 minutes.

so, yeah.  Maybe it was a good thing I went in and got "checked".

Welcome to the world, Eliza Claire!

Her cry was so loud!  Several nurses commented on her "set of lungs"

She was still mad.  We found out a few minutes later it was because she had pooped and peed.

Cleaned up and ready to eat.

All settled in our room, and just had a snack.

In 4 weeks, when I'm holding her, none of this will matter

Right now.  Well, right now I'm feeling a lot of emotions.  (Actually, in addition to emotions, I'm having a painful contraction...)  Anger, sadness, jealousy, impatience.  You know, all good emotions. ;)

Thursday morning, I had an OB appointment.  My OB stretched me, (I was still the same as the previous week, though, with NO change.  boo.) but didn't expect to see me until Monday, during my next appointment.

Thursday afternoon, I woke up from my nap with contractions, around 2:30.  They got stronger and closer together.  Before I actually decided to "go in" they were about every 2 minutes apart.  It took a while for us to gather every thing up and for my in-laws to head over. 

By the time we got to the hospital, it was 7pm and I had been contracting every 2 minutes for 2 hours.  The nurse (who was very new) checked me and I was...wait for it... STILL THE SAME!  Gaah!

So, my doula met us there, got all of our stuff set up, and we went to town with our birth plan: intermittent monitoring, just an IV port, and lots of walking and bouncing on the ball.  I had a lot of contractions, mostly still every 2-3 minutes apart until about 12:30 am.  At this point, they had to keep me on the monitors a little longer because they wanted to watch baby girl's heart rate a little closer.  My contractions started to space out to every 5 minutes.  Then to every 10.  By 2:00, they were only every 15 minutes or so. 

At 2:30, they checked me again and I was the same dilation as in previous checks, but I did make progress in effacement.  Up to 80%.  Trust me, better than nothing, but still frustrating.

By 3:00, my contractions had stopped completely.  I sent my doula home, and we tried to get some sleep.  I was up, for good, at 4:30.  My OB came in at 6 and sent us home.

I have no words for the emotions I felt in that moment.  Or, rather, not enough words.  I had to pack up our stuff, walk down the hall, and out of the hospital with no baby.  Not to mention I had to answer all of the posts on facebook.

So, since Thursday, I've felt like hiding in a hole.  I don't want to see anyone who knows me who might know what happened.  have ANYONE say "oh, you're still pregnant?"  or"You didn't have that baby, yet?" or better yet, my favorite (strickly because I *know* this.  I *know* it.) "She'll come when she's ready."

I don't even want to venture into church tomorrow.  I already told E, as we were leaving in the hospital, that he was going to have to go with out me.

I know I'm being childish.  Especially with the people at church.  They love me and care about me.  But, maybe that is what makes it worse?  Maybe because they know that this pregnancy is my longest yet, and that we've been waiting for baby G's arrival for WEEKS now?

Or because I'm embarrassed.  Okay.  that's probably it.

I'm starting to remember that there is nothing more frustrating in the world than realizing I AM NOT IN CONTROL!  Even though I try to control, I cannot.  Whether it be the birth of my baby girl, the many miscarriages we had, my daughter's anxiety, or my son's speech.  I cannot control everything.  In fact, I have very little control. 

That, my friends, is humbling.  And sort of infuriating.  Now I know remember why my toddler throws things when he doesn't get his way.  It's from the lack of control. 

Now, what can I throw?

Dear baby George

Dear Baby George,  (Don't worry.  We won't call you that once you're born.  Well, at least I won't.  One of your big brothers might.)

Let me start by saying that I appreciate your apparent love for me, your momma, and my uterus.  However, we'd love it if you came out soon.  Your growing body and growing home is starting continuing to make mommy miserable. 

Tomorrow would be an excellent choice for a birthday.  For one, mommy's doctor is on call.  All day.  For two, and more importantly, it's the anniversary of your Aunt Becky's death.  I know it might seem weird to share a birthday with that occasion, but your Grandma, Grandpa, and Daddy would enjoy having something positive/fun to think about on October 13 every year, in addition to remembering Aunt Becky's life. 

So, feel free to come out tomorrow and meet the world.  We can't wait to love on you!

Love,
Mommy

p.s. Tomorrow technically starts at midnight.  Just so you know. ;)

Bubbles and bellies

Our big kids had fall break this past Thursday, Friday, and Today.  Since E had to work all of those days, we decided to take the kids to do something fun on Saturday.  We headed to Birmingham bright and early, stopping at a doughnut shop in Culman first (um, yum!  Haven't had one in ages and the one I did have was still warm.  heaven.)

We spent most of our morning/early afternoon at the McWayne Science Center.  We had free passes for the kids, so we made out pretty cheaply (well, $24 for all of us.)

Most of the museum was pretty dark, so I couldn't really get any pictures.  The bubble exhibit, however, was right in front of some windows, so I got a few. 

My favorite picture of the day: 

 All three kids trying to make a bubble.

It was a fun day.  2 of the 3 kids fell asleep on the way home and slept most of the time.  The other kid, A, listened to a book on CD.  E and I actually had some conversation time.  Which was nice. :)

I had an OB appointment today.  38 weeks.  Unfortunately, nothing has changed since last week's appointment.  Not a gosh.dang.thang.   Not that I'm having a hard time or anything. ;) 

Patience is not a virtue of mine.  Well, I'd like it to be, but I tend to get anxious and worry.  About stupid stuff, too.  *sigh*  Anyway, here's a picture from before my appointment.



I have lots on my mind today, all mostly baby related.  However, A has a birthday party to attend, and I need to get the littlest down for a nap.  Since nothing is going on baby wise, I'm sure I'll have time to blog more tomorrow. ;)

hearing the little voice in your head and 37 weeks

Another funny story from my little man, A.

E got into the shower the other night, and noticed that there was a cup full of body wash in the corner.  A is the only one who takes showers unsupervised in our shower (well, minus the adults, of course) so E knew it was his doing.  When he got out of the shower, E disciplined A.  Following the discipline, he sat A on his knee and started talking a little bit about his conscience.

E: "You know that little voice in your head that tells you when you shouldn't do something?  That's God telling you that you aren't obeying or doing what Mommy and Daddy want you to do.  You need to listen to that little voice."

A: "I couldn't hear the little voice.  The shower was too loud."

E and I both almost burst out with laughing.  I  mean, seriously, you guys.  Where does a 5 year old get these things? 

Back and Forth

Yesterday I had my 36 week appointment with my OBGYN.  Overall, it went well.  Everything looked good. Lost 1.5 pounds, and my uterus still measured 36 weeks (I measured the same 2 weeks ago.)

My OB, of course, is leaving on Sunday, the 2nd, and won't be back until the 10th.  To sort of make a long story short-(ish) I'll just say that we both REALLY want her to be at my birth for several reasons.

My dr. was really hoping that I'd be dilated some yesterday, so that I can come back in on Thursday or Friday and maybe do a little stretching and get things going and started, possibly having baby girl come this weekend.  It wasn't really unrealistic, since I was dilated with O and I at 36 weeks.  (I can't remember with A.  How bad is that?!?!?)

When my dr. walked into my room she says "I want you to either be closed, or like an eight or something."  She was kidding.  Sort of.  She then says "but I doubt you will be.  I'm guessing a 3." That was my guess, too. 

Turns out, I was closer to a closed than we thought I would be.  I was a finger tip to 1.  She couldn't tell super well because my cervix was very posterior and hard to reach.  Since my OB is going out of town, I didn't really want to "make her" reach or even try to stretch me.  There's no point, really. 

Here's where I go back and forth.  Part of me feels like I totally read my body wrong, and I feel stupid for thinking I was dilated more. (Stupid, I know, but true.)  That same part of me feels slightly disappointed that we likely won't have a baby this weekend.  That same part that is happy with my weight gain RIGHT.THIS.MINUTE. and doesn't really want to gain any more.

The other part?  The other part is glad.  The other part knows this is the last time I'll likely ever be pregnant.  The last time I'll ever feel a little person move inside of me.  That other part is glad, too, since our family is just getting over a tummy bug (everyone but me got sick.  amazing!) and we have a few home improvement projects we'd like to accomplish this weekend.

Then there's this middle part.  Or maybe it's back to the first part of me, I'm not sure.  But, I just have this feeling that this little girl is going to come when my OB is gone.  It may not be in the beginning of her trip, but it may be on the last day (or two.)  That's kind of a negative part, huh?  I know it's pessimistic.  I know.  But, I keep trying to figure out what I have to do in order to have the birth I want and have the level of medical intervention I need with out having those two things get confused by the on call dr.  The good thing is that my doula should be able to help me with some of that.

Did you follow me on all of that?  I wouldn't blame you if you didn't.  Heck, I can barely follow my own thoughts.

I have no energy nor desire

I want to relay some information for those of you who care.  However, I'm not feeling so hot right now.  I've got a sore throat and a headache.  So, instead of a well-put together post, you get bullets.  Or asterisks.

*My good friend Devan (I'd link up to her blog if I wasn't so lazy) threw me an ah-mazing baby shower yesterday.  It was just unbelievable.  Cute decorations, awesome food, fun friends, and amazing gifts.  On top of all of that, she made me a diaper cake AND got me a massage gift certificate.  I think I love her. (Well, I already knew I did, but it just reinforced it.)

*I had a panic moment in my bathroom yesterday, getting ready for the shower.  I kept thinking "no one will show up".  I asked E when I'd stop caring if people like me.  He replied "I don't think YOU ever will."  Fine.  I see your point.

*Thankfully, almost everyone showed up.  Which was just wonderful, since I haven't seen a few of those girls in ages.  It was so wonderful and I left feeling so loved and blessed to have such amazing women in my life.

*Today was doctor appointment day.  I had an OB appointment at 9, and Zeke had a sick visit at 11:30.  We left the house at 8, and didn't get back until 12:30.

*I rested for a few minutes after I got Isaac into bed for a nap.  When he woke up, my throat was SO sore, and I had/have a bad headache.  Of course, this happened AFTER we went to the dr.  Sheesh.

*Good news, over all, from the OB.  Baby girl is head down, and her head is low.  Yippee!  I was a little afraid, for a while, that she might be transverse.  The last few days, I have felt her hiccups down low, so I was feeling a tad better.  But, it's good to know that she is, in fact, head down.

*Baby girl must have had a growth spurt.  Last appointment I gained zero pounds in two weeks.  This appointment, I gained 4 lbs AND measured 2.5 weeks ahead.  (Last week, I was about .5 weeks "behind" .  which, really isn't "behind".  I know, its confusing.)  I refuse to think that the weight gain was from my eating of baby shower cake yesterday.  nope.  can't be. ;)

*Unfortunately, it seems as if my upper back pain is likely to be a kidney stone.  Fun.  I mean, it's not completely a surprise.  I had 2 with O's pregnancy, a few after that, and one during Isaac's pregnancy.  But, it just isn't my favorite past time.  I did get a script for Percacet if I need it.  If I don't have any issues before the baby is born, we'll just use it after delivery.

*I hired my doula.  Did I tell you guys that?  She's awesome.  I met with her a few weeks ago with Isaac in tow so we didn't finish everything.  I can't wait to meet with her again (sans Isaac) and get some more things "planned".

*The weather seems to be cooling down a little bit.  At least our morning walks to school are cooler.  I actually wore a T-shirt today, instead of my usual tank top. I know, I know.  It's down-right chilly. :)

*There are some things going on with O that we could use some prayers for.  It's nothing scary, but definitely things that need to be worked out now, while she's 6.  I'll share in more detail another time. It's the kind of topic that needs an entire blog post.

*My friend Devan and I are going away for a girl's night this Friday.  I cannot wait. 

*we still do not have a name for miss baby.  Ack!

The Big Reveal

I FINALLY have the nursery cleaned up enough that I felt I could share pictures. It seems the nursery (a.k.a. the bonus room) seems to be home to random things that need to get put back into the attic.  (It makes sense, since we have attic space on either side.)

But, today!  Today, it's cleaned up and ready for it's time in the spotlight.

Want to take a tour?

Here's the view when you first walk in.  See my little helper?

 Closer view of the wall/window

 The changing table

 Um...This is why he's in a big boy bed now. ;) 

 This is actually where the rocking chair will go once the baby is actually sleeping in here. This cradle, while beautiful and antique (was E's grandpa's), is a pain in the hiney to put together.  I'm doubting she'll even sleep in it. *sigh* 

View from the bed. 

( I'm pretty sure Isaac exceeds the weight limit of that cradle.  Seeing as one of the supports popped out.)

 The crib.  Minus my helper.

 The Ultrasound wall. :)

Bonus picture: not really part of the nursery, but still stinkin' cute.  Newborn diapers.

There are still a few things I need to do.  In fact, I bought a growth chart, just today, that needs to be hung up.  Oh, and the simple little quilt I need to finish start to go on the bed. (ha! simple!  help!) 

I hope you enjoyed the tour.