Sweet Dreams

It's a miracle!

Last night my sweet baby slept from 9pm to 3am!!!

Hopefully this is progress and not just an anomaly!

Panic and Patience

Last Saturday Mr. Man left me. Not for good, mind you. Only for about 2 ½ hours. But the fact remains that for a short moment, after he left to take my Mom to the airport and left me alone with my four children for the very first time – I panicked. Granted all three boys were sleeping to begin with, but still, every possible, though unlikely, scenario floated through my overly-active mind and instead of lying down to sleep with them… I panicked. Gratefully they didn’t ALL wake up crying and needing to be held at the same time, nobody needed to be rushed to the emergency room in the small car I was left with while Mr. Man had the van, and really there was nothing eventful at all. I survived. We all did.

This week (my first week without any mother or mother-in-law to rescue me and allow me to nap whenever and wherever I please) there have been moments where that feeling of, “how could he leave me here alone with four children” has struck, but mostly we’ve done really well. Having to get out the door and get Big J to school before 9 every morning has been a blessing in disguise. I have showered at least every other day, and we’re all dressed (some better than others) and outside getting fresh air before the morning blues can even think of creeping in. It’s a good thing.

My sweet baby has decided he needs to be held all the time… and only by me. We are going to be checking out baby carriers and slings this week… but in the mean time I have relied on love and patience – both my own and that of my children. Now that my legs are up and working, it’s a bit ironic that my arms have been incapacitated! He’s also a gassy guru, and I’ve basically stopped eating and drinking anything that resembles food of any sort – it seems to be helping.

Yesterday Mr. Man and I watched the lunar eclipse – it was neat to see… but I have to admit I’m even more excited that my book “Eclipse” finally came through for me at the library. So amidst walking Big J to and from school, getting at least a few meals into my kids and nursing and nursing and nursing… I’ll be happily reading about vampires once again!

Here are a few of my favorite babysitters:

My Boys

This is how we're surviving a newborn at our house...

(yes, they're watching TV... and don't worry, Little E is at least wearing his underwear!)

Breast is Best?

(Check out those cheeks! My milk is 100% fat! We left the hospital on Monday with him weighing 7lbs8oz... on Thursday he weighed in at 8lbs4oz!)

Upon our arrival home from the hospital, Baby boy was immediately hungry. I went up to my bed to feed him, with my other two little boys following close behind. They were extremely curious about what I was doing. Mr. T with wide eyes, stared and asked, “What ARE you doing?” I told him I was feeding Baby boy. His immediate response was, “He’s eating YOU?” Thus ensued a short lesson on mammary glands and milk production.



A few days later, Little E was sitting next to me balking while I nursed. He didn’t say anything for a long time, but watched closely with great interest. He even put his ear up close at one point and I think he heard some swallowing. Eventually he spoke up, “Is that his water bottle?” I explained once again that the baby was drinking milk. He wanted to know WHY I had milk in my “boobies”. I told him that Heavenly Father knew that babies’ mommies need to feed them milk and so he helps their bodies to make the milk that they need. He thought about this for a moment and then explained his own theory: “You have big boobies and so you have milk. I don’t have big boobies, I have little boobies. I don’t have milk.” “No you don’t,” I replied, trying not to giggle. “Nope, I have lemonade in my boobies!”



This evening we were enjoying some outdoor time after being shut in for several days (Big J and Mr. T have had fevers and a flu bug). After a while Baby boy woke up and I was feeding him outside in a lawn chair. Big J came by right when I was burping him and inquired if I had actually fed him outside. I nodded in the affirmative and she gasped, “Well, that must have been embarrassing!”

Birth Story

WARNING: THIS IS VERY LONG (and I even shortened it from my journal version!)

From my blogging you know that I went in to the hospital last Wednesday morning under the assumption that I would be induced and leave the next day or so with my little one in my arms. Not so. After careful consideration given the fact that my doctor would no longer induce since I’d had a previous c-section, we decided to take option number two and head home to hopefully wait it out. Option 1 was to have a c-section that day. We left knowing that most likely I would be returning the following week to have a c-section, but still slightly hopeful that I would be able to go into labor on my own beforehand. I honestly don’t think my mental state would have handled that rash change in plans and a c-section very well, and I’m grateful to Mr. Man for being so helpful and hopeful and encouraging me to leave – amidst really wanting to not be pregnant anymore! I cried, and it was a hard day for me. I felt like I was faced with a big choice, and I didn’t know how to be sure to make the right one. By no means did I want to put my baby (or my own life for that matter) at risk because I was refusing the thought of a horrible recovery after a surgery. So I was torn and praying to feel peace about what to do.

Joy took me out for Mexican, and everyone and their mother called to see how the birth had gone and then to offer advice on how to either naturally induce labor or else to assure me a c-section really isn’t that bad. Mine was. Anyways…

I do have to mention the blessing that Mr. Man gave me Tuesday night before we went in. I don’t remember everything, but there was one part that stuck out to me because it was a little strange. He blessed me to be able to be in tune with my body and to be able to communicate to the doctors and nurses how my body was feeling so that they could use their medical expertise to see me through. My immediate thought was, “I wonder what a uterine rupture feels like, and if I’d know.” When my doctor sent me home, scaring me with thoughts of a uterine rupture, I kind of figured that that part of the blessing (well in fact the entire blessing – since I hadn’t given birth) was null and void, and that perhaps I had been saved from some medical disaster by not being induced.

Thursday and Friday we kept pretty busy getting odds and ends done. We were also kind of preparing for a c-section, and Mr. Man asked his Mom if she could come and help. The plan was for her to arrive Sunday and stay the week – with me most likely having a c-section on Tuesday or Wednesday. Friday morning I went in to the doctor’s for a non-stress test and sonogram to insure that the baby and placenta were healthy and thriving in my choice to “wait it out”. Everything was great. My placenta showed a couple of small areas of calcification, which was fine, but also meant I was definitely right about my dates and over 41 weeks. The baby looked wonderful and healthy. I talked to my doctor about breaking my water but my cervix was still too high up. He said he would strip my membranes on Tuesday if I wished and then bid me goodbye and good luck. I came home, happy that I wasn’t yet being forced into a c-section, but also frustrated to STILL BE PREGNANT!!! That afternoon I was exhausted and took a long nap. I awoke feeling an overwhelming sense of calmness. I felt peaceful and even expressed to Mr. Man that I felt totally fine about however things happened – even fine with a c-section.

When Mr. Man left for his nightly bike ride after the kids were in bed, I was having some cramping (as I had the night before). He told me I should probably rest and take it easy. I told him I was first going to sweep the floor and vacuum and my parting words to him as he left were, “Tonight’s the night!” I honestly didn’t think it was THE night, but I was trying to think positively. When he came back I informed him that my “cramping” was coming on every five minutes. He showered and mocked my choice of movie, begging for a different one. I compromised and we settled on one we both like and haven’t seen in ages, “Fiddler on the Roof”. And so from 10 to 12, with the exception of an attempt to walk around our cul-de-sac, I labored to “If I were a rich man” and multiple “on the other hands”. By midnight I was exhausted and attempting to sleep between contractions. We decided to head to bed. Mr. Man slept mostly, but while my contractions slowed down, they grew much more intense. Around 2am I couldn’t take it anymore and woke him up so we could go to the hospital and GET MY EPIDURAL!!! (I do have to mention what a wonderful coach Mr. Man was during all this laboring. He rubbed my back, let me squeeze him and lean against him and counted so slowly and calmly that I only cried a couple of times – he made me feel like I could do it!)

Mr. Man called our friend, Kara, who answered the phone like it was 2pm and happily came over to sleep here with our kids. We drove to the hospital and Mr. Man enjoyed going through at least 3 red lights! The nurse (a nice nurse this time!) checked me and I was still only a three. However my cervix was completely thinned out and nice and low. She called Dr. C to come. I was asking about my epidural, but apparently Dr. C wanted to arrive and check me and make sure I’d be staying before that took place. She talked me through his arrival… “he’s putting his shoes on now…” I felt like the man lived a million miles away. He arrived a little before 3am, and at that point I was an 8. Both Dr. C and the nurse ganged up on me and informed me that I would probably have this baby out in a half hour, and we most likely didn’t have time for an epidural, and did I really want one anyways, because I didn’t look THAT uncomfortable. I was apalled, and scared and asked how much worse it was going to get. At 3:30 I was devastated that I was still having to suffer and I hadn’t progressed at all. My nurse had me roll onto my side and that’s when the screaming started. Apparently it was me screaming, I don’t recall… I was in too much pain. Mr. Man laughs about that time now as I was telling him to hold my hand, and then not to touch me. When he’d calmly say, “it’s okay”, I’d retort with a “NO IT’S NOT!” I guess he told me at one point that he “understands” – and I set him straight on that one. We’re both big believers in epidurals – it’s really not good for your marriage to go “natural!” Anyways, being on my side was a killer, but it did the job. In about 15 minutes I was ready to push and push I did! I hollered and Dr. C, bless his tender voice and sweetness told me to try to hold it in so I could use that energy to push. Three pushes later, Jacob Gideon was born at 3:58am. It was a very tender moment. Mr. Man was crying and just kept smiling at me and saying he was so proud of me, and that “I did it!” We both can’t believe I did it without an epidural. Apparently during my hard labor I was also heard to say numerous times, “Pray for me” and “I don’t want to be a hero”. Well Mr. Man did pray for me, and ultimately I was a hero!

Holding my new baby in my arms was such a special treat after waiting so long. He hardly fussed and just seemed so utterly pure and perfect. My heart ached as it grew with the love for my newborn child. There are no words to describe the moments after bringing life into the world. No picture can truly capture the memory. It is awe-inspiring and truly a heavenly experience. One I am so grateful to have been blessed to experience.

My recovery after giving birth was immediate. I couldn’t believe how easy it was to get up and go to the bathroom. Baby has his first “bath” and we were soon moved to the postpartum ward and out of labor and delivery. Since I had gone to the bathroom twice, they were just about ready to take out my IV. I felt great, and it was only 6am. Still too early to call all our family and let them know the news, and so Mr. Man and I reveled in the time we had alone with our new baby. We were both extremely tired, however, and I ached for him as he pulled out the “couch bed” to attempt to sleep on. I told him to go home to bed, his response was “and sleep with Kara?” He did have a point. It would be nice to rest without ALL the kids around… and I will forever be grateful that he stayed.

Around 7am my recovery spiraled downwards quite quickly. I was resting and all of a sudden felt an immense amount of blood gush out of me. I waited a moment and then decided I was a little worried about how big the gush had felt, I decided (and was most likely prompted) to call the nurse. I calmly buzzed and told her that I thought I was bleeding a little more than I should be and could she come and check me.

Now first a little background on this poor young nurse. She was very young and we found out later had just completed her 6 week orientation and this was her very first shift. She had started at 6am. I’m sure she was given me since I had had such an “easy” short uncomplicated delivery, hadn’t needed any stitches, it was my fourth child and I probably wouldn’t be needing much. False pretenses. She came in to check on my and when she saw all the blood she started crying and got a little frantic and said, on her way out the door “No, that’s not normal at all – I’m going to get the head nurse”. I was still pretty calm, but turned to Mr. Man to wake him up and tell him that “she said this isn’t normal”. He sleepily rolled over and responded – “she’s getting the head nurse, you’ll be fine.”

Not only did my very upset and crying nurse arrive back with the “head nurse” but with 3 others as well. Five nurses started trying to calm me down (at this point I didn’t need to be calmed down) and clean me up. They were also working on massaging my uterus, which had become as soft (as one nurse put it)as mashed potatoes. At this point it should have been very hard. In an attempt to train my new young nurse, they put her in charge of the massaging. Probably a bad choice. I occupied my time watching her face and wondering if this was serious or if she was just a queasy nurse in the wrong profession. As she massaged I began to feel queasy and cold and the blood started to flow out of me faster than the nurses could keep up with. I was in pain and bleeding and bleeding. Tears flowed down my cheek and I clung to Mr. Man’s hand for dear life. There was one nurse there who just kept talking to me the whole time, and I focused on her words and her face – “I always get the bleeders! Wouldn’t you know I take on this extra shift, and here I get you! I know just how to take care of you, it’s not going to be a problem at all…” Apparently I was hemorrhaging. Soon I had lost more than 2 liters of blood – almost half of all of my blood and was being rushed into surgery. I was signing all sorts of forms giving permission for whatever may have to be done – hysterectomy, dilatation and curettage, you name it – a nurse held my hand to the paper and I scribbled something while she encouraged me that they were going to take good care of me. That’s about when the severe pain started on the right side of my abdomen. I told them I had major cramping, then it was burning and then the pain was about to make me scream when Brandy, a nurse who escorted me into surgery, brought me a drink (morphine) told me it would taste terrible and to drink it really fast. I did, and the pain stopped immediately. There seemed to be a lot of chaos all of a sudden and everyone was wearing a mask. I heard somebody say, “Kiss your wife goodbye” and then Mr. Man leaned in for what a part of me believed may have been our last kiss. I had tears streaming down my face and I told Brandy that this was exactly how my Dad’s Mother had died after his birth. She put an oxygen mask over my mouth wiped my tears and told me it was all going to be fine; and then I went to sleep.

When I awoke I was startled that I was really alright. Amidst feeling completely and utterly weak and freezing cold, I remember asking if my baby was okay – I was sure he had to be hungry again! I was brought back to the room with the Anne of Green Gables picture on the wall where I had given birth, and soon had about 8 or 10 warm blankets on me, tons of fluids and drugs being pumped into me and a catheter that had to be emptied as often as the fluids pumping into me changed! After months of being soooooo hot it was such an extreme change to feel so freezing cold. Word was that I would be needing a blood transfusion, and Mr. Man was hoping he could be the donor. I floated in and out of consciousness the rest of the day while Mr. Man made the phone calls to inform our family of our new arrival.

Later Dr. C visited. Amazingly my hemoglobin count was high enough that I wouldn’t need a blood transfusion. It would be tested again the next morning to be sure, but if all went well with my recovery, I would be just fine – weak, but fine. Dr. C explained that I had had a clot that had gotten in the way and prevented my uterus from contracting, and that had led to the hemorrhaging. My incision had had nothing to do with it, and ultimately there was no medical explanation for what had happened – it simply had happened. Bad luck, really. The hospital generally has two “bleeders” a year – and I got to be one of them! He had done a DandC and truly believed everything would be okay from that point on. Two days later when I was being discharged, Dr. C admitted that he had been rather scared for me. I chided him that I never would have guessed since he and everyone reacted so calmly and quickly. He responded that it never seems to go over well when the doctor starts screaming along with the patient! He also told me that even though I was young and healthy and ultimately a good candidate for choosing a home birth, had I not been in the hospital I would have bled to death on the way. I am so grateful that I was able to be in tune with my body and know to tell my nurse that something just didn’t feel right.

The “talk-a-lot” nurse came to visit me during my recovery also. She brought me a big bowl full of all sorts of candy bars (not quite appropriate for a nursing mother – but fun for my kids and husband!) She couldn’t believe how well I was doing and admitted that she hadn’t been sure if I was going to make it, with how much blood there was. (Again, great acting ability if you ask me – she seemed so in control of the entire situation!) She told me she went home after her shift and just prayed and prayed for me. She said she thought it was a miracle that I wasn’t in critical care, and even more astonishing that I wasn’t even going to need a transfusion. Again, my gratitude for being alive and well overwhelmed me. Somehow, for some reason, both my brother and I have, within the past month, been saved from death.

Truly giving birth is like walking through the valley of the shadow of death. My pale face and purple eyes reflect the reality of the situation. Every day I get stronger, and yet I am enjoying the slowness that is being truly insisted upon me. With bedrest I was forced to take things slowly, to leave things undone, and yet I was constantly annoyed and even angry with my situation. Now I am grateful and enjoying the many moments I have to hold my little one close, to do puzzles with my boys and read princess story after princess story to my little girl.

I can’t believe how different each one of my births have been. I am startled and amazed that I actually did this one without an epidural. I am no hero and I never wanted that to happen. (In fact, I still mostly wish it hadn’t!) But like my births, each of my babies have been so different. Each is such a unique spirit. We joke around the house now that Big J and Little E were our “loud” babies and Mr. T and Baby boy are the “quiet” ones! We are being blessed with such a good wonderful baby, and after all that it has taken to get to this point – that’s more than enough!

Jacob Gideon

Born Saturday, August 11th 3:58am

7lbs 15oz, 20 1/2 " long

For those of you begging for pics... birth details forthcoming!

What I've Been Reading...

A friend suggested I read "Twilight" by Stephanie Meyer as a way to pass the time. It worked... for a day! Next I put the sequel "New Moon" on hold and waited patiently to read that one. It took me two days, and wasn't quite as captivating as the first, but still a great read. Truly I cannot comprehend what I like about these books. It must be the writing, because the storyline is just so silly and immature I'm embarassed to say that I am so into books about a highschooler and her vampire boyfriend! The third, "Eclipse" came out on my birthday, and I am the 36th person with it on hold at the library. I'm thinking of using some birthday money to go and purchase it tomorrow. This weekend there will be a "new moon" and so I'm considering getting my palm read or doing something superstitious to see if my baby will be born! Anyways, just thought I would share some fun summer reads...

Non-Birth Story

I’m embarrassed to be sitting at home typing on my computer. But I have some explaining to do… apparently! This morning we awoke earlier than our summer usual and got the kids fed and dressed and shipped off to my friend’s house for the day. Then Mr. Man and I headed to the hospital for the next four hours.

After filling out all the paperwork and answering a kajillion questions (I don’t know why I did that whole “pre-registration packet” – can you imagine if I’d truly been in labor?)… I finally was hooked up to my IV. The nasty nurse used her teeth to pull off the cap and her spit sprayed on my upper arm. I don’t know if it was that or the fact that she dug that thing around in my arm searching aimlessly for a vein, but I suddenly got quite nauseous and felt like I was going to pass out. I informed the nasty nurse of my state and she told me to roll onto my side, assuming I was reacting to watching the needle. I have no problems with needles… but I felt terrible, and she kept talking about how the IV may or may not work and I should watch my arm carefully for a big bubble to swell up and any redness or pain in which case she would have to re-do it. Then she started telling some story about taking her cat to the vet and how his IV or needle made him swell up “this big” and yada yada yada. I think I was mostly hungry and her digging around made me react a bit wimpily!

I waited another hour after the IV questioning why I wasn’t yet hooked up to pitocin. I was told they had to wait for my doctor to come since I’d previously had a c-section and it was required for him to be in the hospital or his office (which is close enough) so I could be closely monitored. I told them I didn’t think he was aware of this since he had told me they would start me on pitocin right away and he would come by to check on me and perhaps break my waters at noon. They called him, and I waited.

Trust me the wait was longer than my telling of it…

Soon a lab technician came to take my blood. Or at least try. I must be having vein issues all over my body or something. She tried in my arm once, my hand twice and then my doctor showed up as she was calling her supervisor and thankfully he decided to help her out. Of course he got it on the first try, and commented that if he ever decides to stop delivering babies he may start drawing blood!

After she left, he checked me and then sat down with a serious expression saying that there had been a change in plans.

Apparently he called another OB/GYN this morning to discuss my case and found that another hospital (one for high-risk pregnancies) had just started a new regulation where they no longer perform VBAC inductions under any circumstance, and he was going to be following that regulation also. The risk for uterine rupture is too great and my guess is that there has been a recent incident and the lawyer fees and insurance went up significantly. My Doctor said he felt terrible not having this information yesterday, and actually admitted that he had forgotten that I’d had a c-section for my first birth. (I was actually induced with my second too!) We talked for a while and he told me I had two options. 1) I could have a c-section within the hour, or 2) I could go home and hope to go into labor on my own before I hit 42 weeks and HAVE to have a c-section. Mr. Man and I talked for a while alone and decided we would go home. Mostly because I hadn’t come in expecting to have a c-section, and knowing how my postpartum depression was after Big J and THAT unexpected c-section, we decided that even if that’s the route we end up having to take, I needed to get into that mindset… and we’d need some family support to help with the kids too! My doctor was a bit surprised by our decision – I mean I had the IV in and everything and was expecting to HAVE a baby! I guess I’m getting so used to my timeline being messed up, that it wasn’t as traumatic as expected. Disappointing to no end, and a bit alarming that I may have another c-section (which I HATED!), but survivable. I need to go in every two days for a sonogram and non-stress test to make sure my placenta and baby are with me in my attempt to wait this out, and I only hope that I can have a safe delivery and healthy baby at the end of next week. I mean, you can’t be pregnant forever can you?!

So trick or treat, I’m not sure which… but we spent the 100 degree afternoon weather at the pool , I devoured most of the rest of the chocolaty mud pie from my birthday and my sweet friend took me out for Mexican tonight… not a bad ending to a sort of miserable morning! I’m keeping on my bracelet so that the blood that was drawn (and is still good for the next 72 hours) may not have to be sucked out of me again if I happen to go in soon. My arms and hand are all bruised up from incompetent nurses, and I’m still 35 pounds overweight… but life goes on and I got 11 comments from yesterday’s post; so it must also be good!

The Countdown...

I had my checkup today. My Dr. said he's been sitting by his phone at night waiting for me to call. I told him it was hard to do when I have a doctor who refuses to induce me... he admitted that he hates crazy doctors like that too! I told him it was my birthday and that I hoped he would have some good news for me... and he did! My body is much more ready than it was a week ago and at almost a 3, he's more than encouraging me to get in and have this baby already! So tomorrow morning we will hurry to the hospital, get hooked up on drugs and push this little guy into our lives!

I am sooooooooo ready for this!

In re-reading my journal entries about my last three births, this final thought after Little E was born made me chuckle:
"It is such a feeling of power to give birth. I did so well with my breathing and contractions… I feel really good about this experience (at least until I was sick with the infection). I would much rather give birth than be pregnant for nine months. I hate being pregnant. Remember that."

So wish me luck and soon I'll have a new birth story to add to my collection!

Introducing our Newest Addition!

(a girl can tease, can't she?!)

Mr. Man purchased this almost two weeks ago, and the honeymoon period seems like it will never be over! While I tried to convince him that he wouldn't ALWAYS be the only one doing the dishes and that bed rest would one day end and he would once again have a WIFE... he couldn't handle it! Inwardly, I'm glad! This will definately make having a new baby soooooo much easier! Our kitchen just always seems clean, and I can't believe how long I have lived without a dishwasher! (This is also my first time to have a washer and dryer with a newborn... so really life is going to seem simple this time around .... as soon as I can give birth that is... this is also my first time to be OVERDUE!!!)

When Mr. Man brought in the dishwasher, the kids were beyond curious. Mr. T seemed quite puzzled at how a machine was going to wash our dishes. I think he expected it to stand at the sink and wash them! The first morning with our new dishwasher we awoke to find it filled with all the kids' clean dishes they could stuff into it! After a bit of "training" the kids now do all the dish duty... from clearing and rinsing and loading to unloading and putting away! Very nice!!! Mr. T is still a bit puzzled when he puts his favorite cup in at breakfast and it's not clean by lunch - the concept of the machine having to "run" is a bit too confusing for him! But I have to say, the hum of the dishwasher as we head to bed is so comforting and reassuring and a little more enjoyable than the a, hum, of my husband, ah, expressing his opinion of dirty dishes! (Though he has been the best dishwasher a girl could ever want!!!)

Just to Make Me Smile!

Obviously I need a "project" to keep me occupied. Mr. Man decided I should go through the files of digital pictures on our computer and select those for printing... since I haven't printed, albumed or journaled anything in over a year (however I have been blogging!) This is a great project as it will keep me busy and bring back some fun memories - I highly recommend it! These two pictures made my smile extend beyond the realm of my face - Mr. Man and Little E (as a two year old) exactly one year ago!