The Birth of neC

The longest pregnancy in the history of ever finally came to an end!!

Ok, so it actually wasn't the longest ever.  In fact, it was a normal length of time.  It just felt like an eternity.  Seriously, of all my pregnancies, this has felt like the longest, and that just seems unfair.  Perhaps because this is my last, it was made to feel this way so I could really savor it?  Or be happy I won't have to do it again?  (JK.  I love that I get to grow babies.  I just don't always love the stuff that goes with it)

So--on to the birth!

I decided my due date would be the 28th or 29th.  I wasn't sure which.  I just used all the information from the ultrasounds and other dates and that's what I decided would be most accurate.  On our chalkboard wall in the kitchen, when I wrote down the dates for May, I wrote the 29th.  My midwife, Karla, had me down for the 30th.  When people asked me my due date, it seemed to be really offensive that I didn't give them an exact date.  mwaahahahaa!

Now if anyone remembers or cares, my last birth, with bC was...hard.  Honestly, it traumatized me a bit.  After having 2 great births with luC and cC, bC's birth really threw me for a loop.  I did not want to give birth again.  I prayed, a lot, that I could get over it.  And it worked for a bit.  For a while there, his birth wasn't even on my radar and it was a nice little break from the realization that I was going to have to give birth again.  However, once I was at the end, it came back like a ton of bricks.

Since about 37 weeks on, I'd randomly have contractions in the evening sometimes.  Not little braxton hicks type contractions, but legit ones.  They would usually happen in the evening and then dwindle away when I went to bed.  So on the night of May 28th when I was having them yet again, I wasn't convinced that it meant anything.  I went to bed that night knowing that there was a real possibility that when I woke up at some point in the night to go to the bathroom that nothing would be happening.

However, when I woke up at about 3:00 a.m. to use the facilities, I had a couple contractions.  My contractions are never, ever, ever regular.  Seriously, in all of my 5 labors I can't say "contractions were 7 minutes apart, then down to 5, then down to 3..." etc.  With all 5 they are just all over the place.  Even knowing that, I still decided to see what was going on with the contractions.  The first few were 10 minutes apart.  Over the next hour and a half they ranged anywhere from that to 5, 6, or 7 minutes apart.

At around 4 a.m. that I texted my midwife, Karla, and let her know that I'd been having contractions since the night before.  I figured I'd at least give her a heads up in just case, so she'd be ready.  And then I decided to take a shower and have some string cheese.  Not at the same time.  I kept thinking that at some point juC would realize that I was using my tablet to track contractions and that I was up and about and took a shower.  But...he just snoozed away.

At about 5:30 I decided maybe I was tired enough to be able to sleep through these contractions.  The contractions were quite strong from the get-go, but I was tired.  If I was going to birth a baby, I was hoping I'd be able to get more than just the 3 hours of sleep I'd gotten so far.  I was able to sleep decently from 5:30 to 7.  I woke up several times to the contractions but was able to fall right back to sleep.  I even had a dream that I decided natural birth was for the birds, so I hopped in my car and went to the nearest hospital and kindly asked for an epidural.

A little after 7 a.m. I texted my midwife to let her know that I'd like her to bring the birthing tub soon.  The contractions were still erratic, but were now 3, 4, 5, or 6 minutes apart.  Knowing that with other births, getting up and moving around made the contractions stronger and things progress more, I did not dare move from that bed.  I was not getting up until the midwife was here and the tub was filled because I didn't want contractions to get stronger with out being able to be in the water.  But there was another part of me that worried that it would be like bC, and that I'd get up and move around and all contractions would just stop.  Since bC was born on a Sunday, and had a similar start to labor, I was having a bit of deja vu.

I'm not sure what time my midwife got here...maybe 8?  But her and juC worked together to get the tub situation worked out in the living room.  At some point she also checked my blood pressure and baby's heart rate.  In the mean time, juC had contacted his mom for her to come and get the kids.  And...I continued to stay in my spot in the bed for fear of things stopping or going too fast.  I also texted my mom and sisters to let them know that today may be the day.  And to please pray for me because I still didn't want to birth this baby.

The kids left at some point, I don't even remember when.  Then Karla let me know that the tub was filled and I was good to go.  So I finally got up and got ready before going out there.  I took my time, because, you know...fear and what not.  When I finally went out there Karla, her assistant, and the photographer were there.  I let Karla know that I was a little worried about getting in the tub because I didn't want it to slow things down.  I was so worried I was going to have another full day of stop and go labor like I did with bC.  I'm not one to get checked for dilation during pregnancy and birth because I feel like it messes with my mind too much.  But she suggested I be checked because she didn't want me to get in if I was less than 4 cm and have it slow things down either.  I hesitantly agreed and told her not to tell me what I was if it was 4 or less.

Thankfully...oh so thankfully, I was 7 cm.  So out I went and got in the birthing tub at about 9:40.

Now, I'm not going to lie.  It was a little weird having everyone right there on the couch while I was in the tub.  With my previous 2 water births, juC and I were up in my room while the team was downstairs and they didn't come until they heard me getting loud.  Not having a big enough room this time for the tub changed that.  It was nice to have some conversations in between contractions to take my mind off of things.  I was feeling a little more confident in giving birth, I'm sure because of the prayers being said on my behalf.  But there was still that part of me that was hesitant about how it would go and if I could handle it.

The contractions were strong, but I was able to just breath through them, as my midwife would sometimes speak in a calming voice.  At some point during this time, the other midwife showed up.  I just continued to do my thing and move around trying to find good positions.  juC sat quietly on a chair across from all the women and I couldn't help but laugh to myself that they probably thought he was the worst husband ever because he wasn't doing anything.  (Well, when I say wasn't doing anything, I just mean that he was on his phone or going and getting me things)  BUT...juC knows how I am.  When I'm in labor, I just do my thing.  It's how I've always been and he knows that, so in actuality, he's the perfect support person!

At some point the photographer mentioned that this was the most peaceful birth she'd ever been to.  juC and I assured her that when it got to the end, it wouldn't be so peaceful.  (I am woman, hear me roar!)  The contractions got to the point that I was being a little more vocal and having to work harder to manage it.  When I would breath through it, I alternated saying to myself "pain out, strength in" or "I am strong, I am open."  No clue where those came from, but, there they were.

I'd heard from others how great counter pressure on the hips is during contractions, so when the midwives offered, I was willing to try.  However, when they did it, somehow it made the pain even more intense, so that didn't work.  But as the contractions continued to get stronger, I couldn't help but think about last time and wonder how long I was going to have to endure this phase.

I knew from experience with my last births that I needed to kind of be upright for everything to be in the right position for the baby to move down.  I was trying to find a good position, and finally seemed to find it.  The contractions became so strong that I couldn't help but be vocal.  I knew she was still high, but, that's how my babies roll.  However, I finally felt like I was in a position for her to be able to move down.  For a couple contractions my body pushed a little bit, but then one contraction came and it meant business!!  I was loud and my body started pushing and my water broke, then I could feel her head moving down, then could feel hear head coming out.  Karla tried to get me to slow down but my body and that baby were like "Nope, it's happening people."  I don't know if it was one really long contraction or 2 just on top of each other, but all of a sudden, she was out and in my arms and somehow my thought process was "How in the heck was she completely born in one contraction?!"

About 2 hours after getting in the birth tub, she was born!  It was completely surreal how it all happened.  It was so nice to just have her in my arms and to know it was all over, and that I did it.  I conquered my fears.

And of course neC is the sweetest thing and the kids are so excited she's finally here.  I know she was meant for our family!

(Photo by Safe Haven Birth Services)

A plea to the mothers

There's something that's been bugging me for a while.  6 years to be exact.

"Enjoy every minute of it because it goes by so fast."
"Enjoy it now because they won't always be this little.  And you're going to miss it."
"Enjoy them while they're little."
"It's so much easier when they are little.  When they are older is when it's really hard!  So enjoy it now"
etc, etc, etc.

They are well meaning comments.  I know that.  I really do.  But the fact of the matter is, they aren't really helpful.  In fact, for me, nothing is harder to hear when I'm having a hard time then "Enjoy it now."

Why is it hard to hear?  Because it makes me feel guilty!  I don't enjoy it when my kids scream their heads off at each other.  I don't enjoy it when they fight over every.single.toy. in the house that no one was interested in playing with until one kid happened to pick it up.  I don't enjoy taking my kids to the store and having them have a complete meltdown because I said "no" to something they wanted.  I don't enjoy having an audience for EVERYTHING I do.  (I've always wanted to be an actor and having an audience enjoy my work, but this isn't exactly what I was shooting for).  I don't enjoy fighting to get my 1st grader to do homework that he doesn't want to do because he's already been gone for 8 hours and he just wants to play.  I don't enjoy it when my kids repeatedly reject dinner because "they don't like" something they've never even tasted.

So when someone comes along and tells me to enjoy every minute, and I know I don't and won't enjoy every minute, I feel guilty.  It makes me feel like I'm doing it all wrong.  And someone is always around to tell me that something I'm doing is wrong, so it just gets put on the list of  "All the Things I'm Doing Wrong as a Mom."  It's a long list.  I already feel guilty for a lot of other things.  I don't need to feel guilty for not enjoying all of it, too.

But it goes beyond the guilt I feel when someone says it.  When someone tells you that "this is nothing" and to "just wait until they're older" because that's when it's really hard, it invalidates your feelings.  It's hard to basically be told that your feelings are invalid.  Because your feelings ARE valid.  No one can know exactly how you feel but you, and when someone is basically telling you that what you are feeling is wrong, it hurts.

I will always remember when I told someone that I am always told to enjoy it now because it gets so much harder when they're older she basically said "That's not fair.  They're both hard.  They're just hard in different ways. But it's still hard."  I can still hear her saying that to me when other people tell me differently, and I'll forever be grateful for it!

So my plea to you...all of you that have passed this particular phase in your life where you have young kids, is to please remember.  Please remember how it felt to you then.  Please remember how it felt to always have someone on you.  Please remember how it felt to constantly be asked for juice, or a snack, or a show.  Please remember how it felt when your kids fought all day long.  Please remember how it felt to be up several times during the night with a baby, and to then have to get up and face the day with all of your young children.  Please remember how it felt to try to talk and reason with little humans who don't even know how to fully express themselves or their wants.  And remember how it felt to just feel so overwhelmed with it all and to feel like it would never end (even though you knew it would).

And when you remember that, and then you hear a mom of young kids struggling, don't automatically tell them to enjoy it or tell them how much harder it is later.  Instead, it would be so meaningful for that mom to hear "I know!  It is hard!" and to just get some sympathy and understanding from someone who's been there and done that.  Because we know that it goes fast and that we'll miss it (well, as much as you can know when it hasn't actually happened but do know it does happen).  And we do know that there will be lots of huge trials when they are older (I'm already stressing about those days)(plus, I was a teenager/young adult once, and I remember what I was like.  yeesh! Not looking forward to being the one to deal with that!).  But what we need to know is that we shouldn't feel guilty and our feelings our valid, and we aren't the only ones who haven't enjoyed every moment of it, and that everything will be ok.  We will continue to enjoy the good, but we want to not feel bad about not enjoying the hard stuff, too.

Introducing bC

Wanna know how this little fella got here?

Before cC was born, I kept saying that the perfect scenario would be for me to be in labor during the day, but still go about doing what needed to be done.  Then after getting the kids in bed, birth a baby.  Well, my perfect scenario totally went down.

I figured if I could will it to happen that time, why not this time?  I decided this time it would be perfect to get a good nights sleep, wake up at about 5 a.m. to some contractions, have the baby by 10 a.m.  

I'd been having light contractions off and on for a couple weeks.  Before I went to bed on Saturday August 9, I was having light contractions.  I didn't get my hopes up too much, since that's what was going on the previous Saturday when I went to bed, and I woke up to nothing.

However, when I woke up just before 5 a.m. on Sunday to go to the bathroom, I was having contractions, and they were pretty strong.  I laid in bed for the next several hours, trying to sleep, but trying to pay attention to how far apart they were, and listening to the soothing sounds of juC snoring.  Since things progressed so quickly with cC once my contractions were strong, I didn't want to wait too long to let my midwives know and risk them not making it in time.  The contractions I were having were pretty intense from the get go, so I thought I had actually willed my perfect scenario into reality again.  

So at about 6:30 I texted my midwives to let them know I was having pretty strong contractions.  I figured I still had some time, so if they didn't get the text right away that was ok, and I'd call later if I felt the urgency.

A little after 7 a.m. I gave them a call.  The contractions were quite strong and since they live about 40 minutes away, I wanted to be on the safe side.

A little before 8:30 the first midwife arrived.  I was still in bed just trying to relax while I could.  She quickly listened to the babies heart beat, checked my blood pressure, etc, then said she'd get out of my hair and let me relax.  The other midwife arrived as she was finishing up, and they went down stairs to hang out and let me do my thing.

But that was the problem.  No "thing" was happening anymore.  I was able to sleep for a little bit, but in 2 hours time, I had maybe 2 faint little contractions.  What the heck?!  Soooooo...I guess no 10 a.m. baby after all?

Very sadly, I went downstairs and let my midwives know that it must have been a false alarm because nothing was going on.  They decided they'd pack up their stuff and be on their way.  They'd be around for a bit so if things changed I could let them know and they wouldn't be far.  I was still having some contractions but they weren't very strong, and were all over the place.  We got the kids ready, and a friend came and picked them up to have lunch at their house and to take the kids to church.  juC and I had lunch and there was just nothing going on.  I was so disappointed.  I went back upstairs to lie down.  

I'd also had this...fear... during this pregnancy.  Both luC and cC were pretty "easy" deliveries.  What if this one wasn't, and what if I couldn't handle it?  The contractions I'd been having in the morning were pretty strong and then just stopped.  Was this an indication of what was to come?  Were my fears about this coming true?

After lying down after lunch I rested a bit, and then started having some intense contractions again.  They weren't horrible, but they were just strong.  It was weird because with luC and cC, lying down would make contractions stop, and walking was what got them going strong.  But this time being up stopped them, and lying down got them going.  I texted one of my midwives to ask her what that meant, and she just said that my contractions were more effective when my body is relaxed.  I continued to have these contractions for a bit.  Then decided to take a bath to see if that would help, too.  

A little before 6 p.m. one of the midwives called to say she was headed back home, and we decided she'd come check in on me.  By the time she got here, my contractions were strong, and although not regular (my contractions never are!) they were close together at sometimes.  She checked my blood pressure and all that stuff again.  Then we talked about some of my fears.  This labor was already so different from my others, and I was just so thrown off.  We couldn't decide if she should stay or go since my contractions were all over the place.  I didn't want her to stay and nothing happen, but I also didn't want her to go and things happen quickly and she not be back in time.  She decided to go give the other midwife a call to talk it over with her.

While she was gone I talked to juC and asked him to pray about things and see if we should just go to the hosiptal.  I told him that I felt uneasy, and I couldn't tell if it was my own fears, or if I was being prompted.  He went and said a prayer, and said nothing about it, and seemed at ease.  Even though we didn't get a chance to talk about it, his demeanor was a comfort to me and I felt like even though it may be difficult, everything would be ok.

My midwife decided to check me for dilation to decide if she should stay or not..  She couldn't really tell where I was at, and decided that since my contractions were still far apart at times, and that I was still not having super strong contractions that she'd go.

About that time, the kids got home and it was time to get them ready for bed.  I decided that I'd take another bath since the contractions had picked up again before the midwife came and hopefully the bath would help move things along again.  I got up and was walking around doing different things, but was having to stop every 2 to 3 minutes because a contraction would come, and since getting up, they were getting even stronger.  They continued to be close together so at 8 p.m. I called my midwife back and said "ummm...I think you need to come back."  

Dang it!  It had better be real now, since she was on her way home to get dinner since she hadn't had anything yet.  I did wait until my midwife got here, though, before getting in the tub.  With cC, I got in the tub and he was born about 15-20 minutes later.  

I believe she got here at about 8:20.  I got in the tub, and contractions started getting stronger.  Like ridiculously stronger.  After having intense contractions all day, I really thought this had to go quickly.  After a little bit, the other midwife got here.  They were hanging out downstairs and would occasionally come in to check the babies heart rate.  

I obviously wasn't staring at a clock during all of this, but g'zz Louise, it seemed to be going so slowly.  I was having a really hard time getting comfortable, and the contractions were getting so strong, but nothing seemed to be happening.  The only progress that seemed to be happening in that room was juC progressing in his facebook stalking of all of his friends.  Otherwise, it seemed as though nothing was being accomplished.

I thought for sure that with as strong as the contractions were, this baby would be coming soon.  But the urge to push still wasn't there even though the contractions were so strong.  I still couldn't find a comfortable position and my legs were tired from all of the semi-comfortable positions I'd been in.  Slowly, but surely, the urge to push came.  Now, mind you, my previous 2 births went ridiculously fast once pushing began.  That's what I was used to, and mentally prepared for, but was worried wouldn't happen.  My babies are always "high" and with cC it was about one push to get him "low", about one push to get his head out, and about one push to get his body out.

bC, however, not so much....

It seemed as though my body was pushing and pushing, and no progress was being made.  I still couldn't feel him coming down.  I honestly was feeling defeated, and mentally couldn't wrap my mind around why nothing was "happening".

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, I could feel him moving down and could tell he was close.  Still it took several pushes and his head started coming out, but slowly.  After his head was out, surely the rest would be quick right?  Yeah...not so much.  Contractions one after another and several pushes later, he wasn't budging.  It became clear to my midwives that his shoulder was stuck.  After efforts to free his shoulder where I was in the tub weren't working, I had to quickly get out so that they could free him.

I won't lie to you folks,  I have never experienced so much pain.  I will spare you the details, but freeing a shoulder of a birthing baby isn't rainbows and roses.   It was about 5 minutes from the time I felt his head emerging to the time he was born, but it felt like a lifetime.  He needed oxygen, but soon after they laid him on me he began crying...and crying and crying (another thing my other babies didn't do).

There is something truly amazing about the things you are feeling during birth, and then the instant relief that is felt as soon as the baby is born.

Now, if you are still with me... It was an intense birth.  Thankfully (although I wasn't feeling thankful at the time) I'd read a book by Ina May Gaskins that had a lot of home birth stories in it.  As I read the stories, which I read thinking I'd find inspiration, I was feeling all sorts of scared about my upcoming birth.  Sure, I'd done this before, but these stories I was reading were freaking me out, man.  So many stories were about women who had previous births go quickly and smoothly, and then had super difficult labors with a 3rd or 4th baby.  Several were about a baby whose shoulder got stuck during delivery.  It all just freaked me out.

But I am so glad I read those stories.  In those intense moments when we were all panicking a bit, I could remember those stories, and remember what needed to be done, and was able to focus and do what was best.  I think leading up to his birth that I could sense something was off and that's where my anxieties were coming from, but also knew that it would be ok.  I could sense that things were going to be much more difficult than before, but could sense that we would get through it.

Every time I experience a new life coming into our family, I can't help but feel overwhelmed at how amazing it is.  I don't know how anyone can experience it and not know that we have a loving Heavenly Father.  I am so thankful for these fresh from heaven little ones that remind me how amazing life is!  I am so thankful that I have been able to experience fresh from heaven little ones 4 times!  There's nothing like it!

(side note--Finding someone to take pictures during the birth...best decision ever!  I love the moments and images that were captured!  Thank you Caroline Hefner Photography!)

Not sure where jC's story is.
luC's story--http://itsmeanic.blogspot.com/2011/01/shes-here.html
cC's story--http://itsmeanic.blogspot.com/2012/11/all-about-birth.html

Boy Oh Boy....Oh Boy

I'm going to let you in on a little secret.  I never, ever, ever pictured myself as a mom of 3 boys.  Just saying it makes my heart race.  For some reason, I thought 2 boys would be the max.  I'd had a feeling all along that it was another boy, which would be the first time ever that my feeling was right.  And I can't deny the fact that I was hoping for just one more girl.  But of course, all that matters to me is that we have a sweet little baby to hold in the end.  No matter what is hidden under it's diaper.

I've been thinking of the benefits of having another boy.  For starters, we have a billion boxes of boy clothes.  We are getting some really good use out of these clothes!  A large portion of the smaller sizes of clothes came from my sister.  And a good chunk of the clothes that came from my sister first came from my brother.  Which means that a lot of them had already been worn by 3 boys before they got to me.  Then my 2 boys have worn them.  Which means by the time this baby wears them, he'll be the 6th one to wear them.  So, I'd say that the money spent on the clothes was very, very well spent and put to good use!

Along with that is that we are already getting a good stock pile of Halloween costumes for the fellas!  It won't be long before we have all we need and I won't even have to buy anymore.

One of the problems of our home is that leftover food usually sits in the fridge and then gets thrown away.  It's such a waste.  With 3 boys we will no doubt not have that problem because either 1.  There won't be any leftovers from dinner or 2.  The leftovers will get eaten soon after.

Let's be honest...girls are emotional.  And I'm not trying to say that boys aren't, but we all know it's different.  I'd be lying if I said I hadn't thought about the fact that as of right now, I'm glad that we only have 1 girl to deal with when it comes to a certain part of a girls life.  I imagine that the boys in the family will later agree that 2 of us is plenty.

One day I'm really going to enjoy sending all of the boys outside to mow the grass, trim the bushes, build things with wood and bricks, and use chainsaws...while luC and I stay inside baking cookies and brownies and eating chocolate while watching romantic comedies and follow it up by
going to the mall.

With 3 boys that will probably each be taller than me by the time they are 12 (poor luC, she's so tiny I'm not sure she has that same chance), surely I will look like a little lady with a crew of bodyguards around me.  That's always a plus!

I've always wanted to know every single detail of how Boy Scouts works.  Here's my chance!  And boys haircuts are way easier/cheaper than girls!  Buzz cuts for everyone!

Ok, so seriously, before you start judging me and thinking I'm a girl hater...I really was hoping to have one more girl.  Of course if we have another, there's still a chance.  But I have to look on the bright side now and start psyching myself out now.  Because who knows, we may have another one...and it may be another boy.  (And that's ok, too!!)

Conversations with Littles

little luC has been saying that the baby is a girl.  little jC has been saying he wants it to be a girl.  He even said one night "Can we name her?"  And when I said that it might not be a her, but a him, he seemed open to the idea, but insisted that it should be a girl.  When I was pregnant with cC, he was the same way.  He really wanted a girl baby!

And it looks like my kids won't ever get want they want.  (A lesson we should all learn in life.)
After finding out at the ultrasound that it was, sadly for them, not a girl, I went home and first shared the news with luC.  (as jC was still in school.)

"Guess what the baby is.  A girl or a boy?"
To which she replied "A girl!"
"Nope, it's a boy!"  Yaaay!
Devastation swept across her face.  "Why!?"
"Because that's what it is.  It's a boy!"
Further devastation.  "But I wanted a giiirrl baby!"

Then jC got off the school bus.  I'd considered doing something more exciting to share the news with him to soften the blow.  Like balloons.  Or maybe a cake.  But I opted for a nap over baking.  But I decided I'd just wait until he remembered that we were finding out before I told him.

That took about 45 seconds.  As we walked back home from the bus stop he asked his daily question, "What did you do today."
Stall tactic..."Ummmm.  I slept all day!"
He couldn't be fooled.  "No you didn't!"
Then he remembered!  "What is the baby going to be?"
Ok, super duper excited voice in effect!  "It's a boy!"
His unexpected (for the moment) response, "YAAAAY!"
"Isn't that exciting?  You get to have another brother."
Phew, it worked!
Then I guess because I was the bearer of bad news with a happy voice, he thought he'd return the favor.  In an excited voice he said "And then you are going to have two babies.  And you will get to change two babies diapers."
Well played jC.  Well played.

Then it sunk it.  The disappointment set in.  "But I wanted to have a girl baby."

I'm certain that if cC could talk, he'd comfort me and tell me he knew it was a boy all along and that they are going to be the best of friends.

A True Story of Courage

If you know me, you will understand why this story is one of true courage.  If you don't know me, perhaps you should.  Or you should just know that the fear I have of the intruder mentioned in this story is a fear like no other I've known before.

Last week was a week just like any other.  No, that's not true.  Last week, for the first time in my life as a mother, I had to have us up and ready every day of the week to get jC off to his day camp that we'd signed him up for.  (You'd think it wouldn't be that much more difficult than getting us all up and ready for preschool when he was going 3 days a week.  You'd be wrong.)  (Have I mentioned how much I am NOT looking forward to jC starting kindergarten in September and having to do it every day for months on end?)

We were up.  We were ready.  We were running a few minutes late.  No big deal.

We were just moments away from being able to walk out of the door.  I placed cC in the car seat that was sitting atop the kitchen island.  I began to put the straps on him.  And that's when things got scary.

As I was about to put the second strap on cC's shoulder, I saw it.  There it was...RIGHT THERE.  It was walking right along the handle of the car seat that was pushed back flush with the seat itself.  It was right by my poor, defenseless babies head (and right by my poor defenseless arm, might I add.)

A quiet squeal escaped my mouth, alarming my other children to the immanent danger.  jC, being the scarediest of us all could not hide his fear.  I put on a brave face and assured him that I would protect my sweet little children from this unwanted evil intruder that had come into our home.

In the face of danger, I pulled myself together and acted quickly.  In a matter of seconds, I had poor helpless cC out of the car seat and safely on the floor.  jC was impressed by my fast acting, life saving maneuver.  I was, too.  But there was no time for celebrating cC's new found safety.  There was still an evil being to rid our home of.

So I did what any other person in my situation would do.

I grabbed a sturdy, easily held box that was on the kitchen island, and threw it at the car seat.  My aim was bad given my mental state.  I picked the box up again.  I pulled myself together and gave myself a brief pep talk.  Then I aimed the box at the demon and threw again.  My aim was better and it knocked it down onto the floor.  (Don't worry, my children were safely away from the battle ground.)

I was in the zone.  I had my 3 dear children to protect and this was the moment of truth.

I grabbed the box for one more go at it.  With precision like no other, I dropped the box on this spawn of Satan, and heroically put my foot on the box, squishing the contents underneath to smithereens.

That monstrous spider messed with me on the wrong day!  When evil tries to come between a mom and her 3 dear children (no matter how scared the mom may be of the evil), evil will fail!!

sentimental feelings (emphasis on mental)

So here's the truth: I don't want my kids to grow up.

I planned on keeping jT in his crib until he was 8, but then one night I checked on him, and realized that he practically had to fold himself in half, or hang out of the crib to really fit. So at the beginning of the year, we moved him into a bed.

I hadn't planned on potty training him...ever. (He has a certain poop problem that I won't go into details about, but let's just say--He holds it in, all week.) I was convinced there was no way I'd ever get him in underwear. It didn't stop me from talking about it to him and pointing out other kids that used the "big potty". And then last weekend, after seeing one of his friends wearing underwear and using the potty, he decided it was high time for him to, as well. (Well, he still holds his poop in, but at least he does his other business in there now.)

I remember thinking he'd never talk in sentences. And I swear one day months and months ago, he woke up and spoke to me, and could have conversations with me--with individual thoughts and all.

I remember so clearly when he was a newborn, and holding him in the glider in his room during all hours of the night. He was the tiniest little thing who fit perfectly snugly into my folded arms. And I would just sit there, gliding, content, holding that sweet little baby. Then a couple months ago when he was sick, and I held him in that same rocker, his body completely enveloped mine. I wanted to cry. Ok, I did shed some tears. Because my first baby no longer resembles a baby in any way.

As much as I love the boy he is, I absolutely miss the baby he was. I didn't want this to happen. I didn't want him to grow up, and in spite of my best efforts he did it anyway.

My heart absolutely breaks.

It's a big day, people!

You may be wondering what is so special about this day. The 5th day of April. Well, let me fill you in.

It was on this very day, exactly one year ago today that I found out this news:

It was one year ago today that I took a test, found out the big news, quickly made this onesie, and announced the big news to juC. I can't hardly believe that it's been a year!! Such a big day!

But I kept feeling like today was a big day for another reason, but I couldn't quite put my finger on.

I asked luC if she knew.

She just hung her head in shame and said "I can't believe you don't know."

So then I turned to jC

and he was all "Get with the program woman! It's your mum's birthday!!"

And then I was all "Ohhh yeaaaah!"

I had the most hardest time trying to figure out what to get my mum for her birthday. I wracked my brain and wracked my brain more. And then finally I figured out the perfect gift. (Hint: the perfect gift for anyone is always something that you would enjoy yourself) (The perfect gift is also edible and comes in any form of chocolate.)

Unfortunately, shipping is working slowly, so she won't get to enjoy her edible form of chocolate on this, her day of birth approximately 325 years ago, but hopefully she will forgive us and enjoy it when it comes anyways.

Happy birthday, Mum!! I hope you will forgive me for relying on my wee ones to remind me of what a special day this is!

Guessing game

Guess who is sleeping through the night.

And guess who decided to be a big boy and not throw tantrums anymore.Then guess who said he would take me on a super romantic getaway with out the kids.

And the biggest of all, guess who is expecting baby number 3.

I don't know the answer to any of these questions, but I do know it is April 1.

jC thinks three's a crowd

I've decided that either I'm the only one who has struggled with having a second baby, OR everyone struggles but no one talks about it. If the latter is the case, then I will be the odd one out and actually talk about it.

It feels very similar to when I was pregnant with jC and people would say "Being a parent is hard." and I'd say "I know." I knew it would be hard, but the reality of dealing with it was a lot different than just knowing it would be hard.

I knew having 2 would be hard, but the reality now of living it is much more difficult than I expected. The funny thing is when jC was a baby, I cried a lot with the struggles I had with him. Now luC is here, and I'm crying a lot...because of the struggles with jC. He, unfortunately, is not too fond of playing on his own. He also, unfortunately, is not too fond of not having all the attention.

Other things he's not fond of: luC crying, having to eat a meal with out me sitting with him, turning the TV off, getting a snack that he doesn't want, making him pick up the snacks he doesn't want after he throws it on the floor...and the list goes on and on....which equals a whoooole lot of frustration, screaming, and crying all around.

On the plus side, luC is a lovely baby. She will actually nap, which means I do get to spend some one on one time with Judson and I'm able to see his happy side, too.

I absolutely love my children (Woah...saying I have CHILDREN is weird!!) They are great, and I just can't wait for everyone to be adjusted to our new family so we can really enjoy it.

She's here!!

Our little luC has arrived.



And call me crazy...



But I love reading about peoples birth experiences. So I thought I'd share my own. Of course if you have no interest in hearing about it, I won't be offended if you just skip down to the end and look at the pictures.


So luC's due date was Dec. 16. However, at the beginning of my pregnancy(when ultrasound dating is most accurate), every time I got an ultrasound they said it was 4 or 5 days later. But they don't change the due date unless it's more than a weeks difference. Dec. 16 came and went, and even though I always said she'd be late, it was SOOOO hard to see the due date pass with out a baby to show for it. But according to those calculations in the beginning, she came just on time...


On Dec. 21 I had an appointment with the midwives in the morning. The midwife talked of stripping membranes, but basically said if the baby is ready, it would speed things up and if the baby wasn't ready it would make no difference. So I opted to not go that route. They did an ultrasound to make sure there was enough fluid, they set up an appointment for the 23rd for a nonstress test, and set up an appointment for me to be induced on the 27th. I really thought all of those appointments would occur.


After I got home from the midwives, juC had to go back to work and little jC was so upset. I ended up taking him for a drive to calm him down. I thought I would take the opportunity to go by a friends house and drop something off for her and hang out a bit. The whole time I was there she joked about my water breaking on her carpet, and it better not because it was new carpet. I assured her we were safe.



At about 11:30am little Judson and I were about to leave. He asked me to hold him, so I was standing there in her kitchen holding him in front of me when all of a sudden I felt something. I thought that with the way I was holding jC and the position of the baby I must have had a little accident....oops! That had never happened before! But I didn't want to ask to use her bathroom because I knew Judson would freak out. So with out saying anything, jC and I left her house and I got home as quickly as possible. My water breaking before labor started had never crossed my mind because I always assumed it would happen exactly the way it did with jC. After I got home I realized that there was a good chance that my water did break.

I called the nurse at the midwives office and told her what happened. She told me what to do to "test" it out and see if my water broke. When I called her back to tell her the results of the "test", she said "REALLY!?" Apparently she didn't expect it to have actually happened. But, my water broke for sure!

I immediately called juC. No answer. I called the babysitter who was supposed to come. No answer. I called juC again. No answer. I called the other babysitter. No answer. I called juC again. No answer.

Seriously...NOW?!?! Now is the time no one picks up?? I called the cell phone of the other babysitter. She finally answered and said she'd come as soon as she could. Called juC's work phone. No answer. Called his cell phone again. No answer. FINALLY got him and told him my water broke.

I quickly finished getting things together that I needed to. juC got home and a few minutes later the babysitter came. We headed to the midwives office because they said they had to do a test to be 100% sure my water broke and it was easier to do it at their office. Of course as soon as the midwife checked, she said we could go ahead to the hospital. When she told me that Margie was the midwife on call, I was excited because that was who delivered Judson and I liked her and it was familiar.

We got to the hospital around 1pm and I fully expected to be there for a looong time before luC was born. I was about 3 cm dilated and luC was still high. They hooked me up to the antibiotics I needed and did a round. After it was done and I could get up, I did. Up to that point my contractions weren't very painful and weren't regular. After I got up they started getting really painful.

The whole pregnancy I had planned to have a natural birth, but the whole time I was never convinced I could do it. As the contractions got more painful, I really started to doubt myself. I asked if I could sit in the tub, so the nurse and midwife got it ready for me. Before I got in, she checked to see how far along I was, but said she wouldn't tell me. It is most definitely a good thing she didn't. I was only 5 cm, and I'm pretty sure if she had told me that I would have asked for an epidural.

I was in the tub for about 20 minutes when things really started getting painful and uncomfortable. And I started feeling a lot of pressure and like I needed to push. juC went and got the midwife. Back in the room she checked me again. As she was checking I went from 8 to 9 cm. Soon after I was at 10 cm and it was time.

I'm not going to lie people. I was in PAIN. I was screaming. (I always said I wouldn't be one of those people screaming, but...) My body took over and I honestly felt like I had no control over what was happening. I pushed through 3 contractions and at 5:24pm....way earlier than I expected, luC arrived.

She was 7 lbs and 20 1/4 inches, and she, of course, was perfect. It's hard to believe it was two weeks ago tomorrow. She's a sweet baby and we are so happy to have her!!

Two much

I've been so busy posting on my private blog lately, I've been neglecting this one. Mostly because there are so many things I want to write about, that they are piling up and I feel too overwhelmed to do it. But, in the mean time, while I get my overwhelmingness under control, get a load of this overwhelmingness...

Baby #2 is due around Dec 16.