The Kiddos

We had an awesome opportunity to get pictures of the kids. They turned out great!

Miss E. Six. Kindergarten. Beautiful. Lover of all things theater.

Mr. W. Three. Playschool. Smartypants. Lover of all things digital, mechanical, or electrical.

Big O. Three. Playschool. Comedian. Lover of all things sports.

 Miss H. Two weeks. Heavenly. Lover of all things comforting.

Thank you Amy!

Adjusting With The New Baby

Adjusting...slowly adjusting.

Now that I think about it, when you're raising kids, you're constantly adjusting. No matter what stage of life you or your kids are in, everyone is constantly changing and growing. There are several life events that are stressful for people. Bringing home a new baby may not be in the top five, but it sure is a big stress in my book. Not only am I caring for a newborn, but my body is healing, we're learning to breastfeed, the kids have another sibling to share mommy and daddy's time, and we all seem to be running on less sleep. We're adjusting to new routines, more laundry, way more doctor appointments, more conflicts, more messes, less privacy, and less time to get things done. It's a juggling act, and as of right now, I'm not a good juggler. But, of course, you hear the cliche comment that everyone says, Oh, enjoy every moment. This time goes by so fast!  ( Have you read this funny article? ) I would love to snuggle with my immobile baby longer than a few months, but I'd also love to fast forward the age of three. Anyway...I'm rambling. 

Adjusting... that is what we are doing. 

She is all smiles.

She is quite the conversationalist.

Everyone wants to be near Baby H.

 We all love to hear her laugh, hiccup, or sneeze. She's the new entertainment around here.

Even Daddy can't resist holding her, despite his work load.

Glow Worm's Week

Once we left the hospital, Baby H's bilirubin level spiked to a dangerous level. Not only was her little body yellow, but the whites of her eyes seemed to be getting darker with each passing hour. She was .8 away from being hospitalized. We had to act fast. 

We rented a photolight therapy blanket to wrap around her 24 hours a day. She was our little glow worm for 5 days.

After a few days, we saw an improvement.

Each day for a week, we had to return to the hospital to get Baby H's heel pricked in order to collect a vial of blood. It was awful. Don't you wish people were really good at their profession? We had both ends of the spectrum. Nurses who seemed to not know what they were doing as they squeezed blood out of my screaming newborn baby was not my favorite. In fact, I was on the verge of expressing my unfriendly thoughts towards them and their less than mediocre performance. On the other hand, we also had nurses who seemed to really care for my baby and successfully collected blood as she peacefully slept. This was as close as I could get the time they were unable to get enough blood from her heel. They decided to tie her arm off and collect blood from a vein, which in the end, didn't work either. That was not a good visit.

The photolight therapy blanket worked and her bilirubin level came back down to safety. No more visits to the hospital. No more vials of blood. No more appointments with the doctor.

The kids absolutely love her and all her tiny features.

E is so excited to have a baby sister. She has expressed several times that she can't wait to have her in her room. I'll get up in the middle of the night to help her. I can change her, well, except for the poopy ones. You can do those. She can help me teach the boys what to do.

Red socks on hands?- I have no idea.

Here She Comes

After my water broke, I was quickly wheeled to my delivery room. I was checked again and surprisingly, I was a 7-8. Epidural? Yes! I want it now!

Hold still he says as he prepares to stab me in the back with his massive sword like needle. How is that possible when I have contractions back to back, I'm about to throw up again, and I'm shaking all over? Ouch! It's not possible, but he stuck me anyway.

The nurse said I would probably deliver within the hour, however, it soon became obvious that I wouldn't. Great. It was fabulous to have an epidural, but it slowed my contractions WAY down. 

We were there for the night. My little womb kicker was sure taking her time.

The next morning I was exhausted. It was my 3rd day without sleep and I hadn't had my baby yet! The doctor came to check on me and discovered my baby was face up instead of down. So, they positioned my body a specific way, hoping the baby will turn on her own. It was amazing to feel her twisting and turning, preparing to make her debut.

Here she comes!

Dr. L was anxious to meet her.

Once he sat down, I gave a few pushes. He then lifted his hands in the air and laughed. Look at this! This is amazing. Dad, look at this as he pointed down. Mom, sit up and look at this. Now I didn't plan on watching any of this unfold, but I didn't think, and quickly sat up to see what he was talking about. I don't have to do a thing the doctor said with a smile. We all sat and watched my baby's head slowly make it's way out on its own. It was quite amazing.

She gave a hearty cry as she kicked the doctor.

She had a head full of dark hair.

She was 7 lbs 10 ounces and 21 inches long.
Dark blue eyes, lazy baby toes, fuzzy ears, and a sweet dimple in her left cheek.

Baby H was finally here and she's perfect.

Very calm, quite alert, oh so soft, and just heavenly.

We have been so blessed to have this little miracle come into our lives.

So...There I Was...

...Up practically all night timing contractions. I tried to get sleep, but it was nearly impossible. The contractions were pretty steady at 6 or 7 minutes apart, but then I'd have a random 10 minute one that would frustrated me. I finally dozed off around 4:30am, only to be awakened at 6am by a strong contraction. Before I could react, I had another. I shot out of bed and started gathering. A, who was very calm, began to wake the kids and load them, along with their suitcases, into the van. While I was preparing to leave, the contractions were steadily coming at 3-4 minutes apart. 

We had a drive ahead of us. Our plan was to drop E off at one cousin's house and the boys at another. However, as we traveled we decided to drop all of them off at one house and head to the hospital. My brother and sister-n-law were very gracious to help us out. In fact, a simple drop off became an all day event. Just as we sent E off to play with her cousins and we began to chat about our events thus far, my contractions went from 3 minutes apart to 5-6 minutes apart. WHAT?!
So...we ended up spending most of the day there. I danced, lunged, squatted, and climbed stairs all while my labor music played. Yes, labor music. Hubby made me a sweet mix. An awesome mix.

The kids rode bikes.

A blew the leaves with brother G, took a nap, and watched football.

I also walked the neighborhood.

 When the contractions got back down to 4-5 minutes apart, we decided to check in at the hospital. I was queezy at this point and knew it wouldn't be long. Or would it? I continued to walk while checking in and had my barf bag on hand.

Concentrate...focus...count...count...

 Once they got me into an exam room, contractions were at 2-3 minutes apart and lasting for a minute or more. I was vomiting now and the shaking started. I was really getting close, or so I thought. The nurse told me I was dilated to a 1. WHAT?! We went walking through the halls, stopping every couple minutes to grip the rails or barf. Near the end, I told A, I just can't do this anymore. I was in a great deal of pain. Some of the contractions were back to back with not much time in between. What was the result? Still a ONE. We were flabbergasted, including the nurse who thought for sure I was close to delivery. YOU"VE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!! I yelled...for everyone to hear. She called the doctor and he told me to go home. I live too far away to go home. Plus, how in the world are we supposed to know when to come back if my body is acting like its in transition?

Let's face it. I was mad. Frustrated. Tired. In pain. I did not want to leave. As I lifted my legs to get out of bed, my water broke and we all screamed for joy. My nurse was the loudest as she jumped for joy, clapping her hands. She admitted she really didn't want me to go home. This is a picture of us when I was officially admitted. Now...let's get going.