Toby's Birth Story

December is Toby's birth-month and so, in his honor, I'm finally posting his Birth Story -- this post has been a year in the making; lots of rereading, editing, and remembering. I look back on that day/night with such fondness, such a bittersweet sense of familiarity and yet surprise. Continue below the jump to read the entire story....


I can hardly believe I'm writing my fourth birth story - or that this is my last birth story. But, here it is, the story of how our little Toby Fields made his grand entrance into this world...

Jaxon's Birth Story (01/09/2013)

This post is 1+ year in the making...I've literally been sitting on it that long! I meant to post this around his first birthday, but it just didn't happen (oops!) So here it finally is, the birth story of my firstborn son...and now I really need to get on Toby's birth story. 


It all started on a Tuesday evening. I was sitting on the couch, just taking it easy and gearing up for bedtime, when I started to feel contractions. Out of the blue, moderately strong, timeable contractions! After never going into labor on my own before, it was quite the shock :) Justin kept side-eyeing me, asking me what I thought was going to happen - I joked we'd either have a baby or the contractions would just go away...

The Crazy Side of My Brain

Can we talk for a minute? I've got some hair-brained thoughts bouncing around in my head right now, and while I know I'm being the most irrational thinker ever, I think it's worth discussing -- maybe you feel like this sometimes, too? Maybe you have experienced or are experiencing crazy brain (whether pregnancy related or not!) like me? 

Good, let's chat.

Let me start off by saying, my pregnant brain is one jealous bitch!!

My husband probably wouldn't want me talking about this, but only because it further perpetuates the idea that I'm psycho -- I'm sure he has enough of a time as it is explaining to others, "please just excuse my wife at the moment, she's kind of pregnant and kind of impossible" :)

With my first pregnancy, I was young and dumb enough as it were, but there was something about the chemical and hormonal imbalance that just drove me over the edge. Justin could be ten seconds late showing up somewhere, and I was instantly convinced he was CHEATING! LIAR! 

Hell hath no fury like a pregnant woman convinced her baby's daddy is an unfaithful liar! 

Of course, I feel pretty bad about the whole thing now -- I put Justin through a lot that first pregnancy and made things even harder than they had to be. I was a big pain in the ass, and I know it. And luckily, with the next two pregnancies that followed, I didn't really have any of those lingering insane thoughts. My levels must've been more on the balanced side, and I didn't spend a lot of time internally reminding myself that I'm married to a good man, a man that doesn't stray, a man that can be a few minutes late home from work and it doesn't have to equal him poking every pocket between here and there. 

With this pregnancy? The crazy lady has returned. Full force. 

I know he's not cheating. Well, I guess technically you never really know if a person is cheating or not -- but I honestly don't worry about my husband cheating. The perfectly rational side of me knows I have a good husband, a faithful man by my side who loves me and isn't going to step out on me (or his family). Believe me, I know this. 

It's my psycho hose-beast of a pregnant brain that doesn't quite grasp that concept. Case in point: I bumped into my husband at the gas station in town and my inner monologue started screaming, "WHAT THE EFF IS HE DOING HERE?!" 

"Umm...he's getting gas? It is a gas station, after all."

"NO! THERE ARE FEMALES IN THIS VACINITY! HE'S CHEATING!"

"I'm pretty sure he's just paying for his gas but okay...."

"LOOK AT THAT GIRL! SHE'S A TOTAL SLUT! YOU KNOW HE'S CHEATING ON YOU WITH HER! HER OF ALL PEOPLE!"

"Hey, I like her! She was so sweet back in school..."

Do you see what my brain does? This is but a mere glimpse into my daily life -- seriously, my brain is so fucking weird sometimes, I need to be evaluated professionally. Studied, I need to be studied. I'm a therapist's best/worst dream. 

Anyone else have this problem? Do you struggle with your brain (pregnant or not) over completely irrational things like this? Please tell me I'm not alone when it comes to knowing better than the lies our brains try to tell us -- the really dumb, irrational, jealous-fueled lies! 

And for the record, my dear sweet husband was actually just buying some mozzarella sticks on his way home. 

OR SO HE SAID. 

The More, The Merrier, and the More Absent-Minded

I remember the day I found out I was carrying my first little girl inside me -- I don't remember the exact date, but I remember the day. Visions of pink and frills and bows and princesses and all the things that make life wonderfully girly danced in my head. Mom and I went straight to the store and started buying pink! and purple! and little tutus! and socks with lace! 

And it was wonderful. 

I dreamed of a perfectly perfect princess themed nursery, and so we made it happen. Bright yellow walls. Princess border. Complete nursery set with sheets and pillows and a hanging quilt and the bumper -- all of it pink and princess and exactly how I planned.

I would sit in that nursery for hours. I sat in my pink and white glider reading or folding freshly Dreft-washed clothes. I rearranged furniture and added knick-knacks. I hung out in that nursery anticipating my little lady's arrival for what seems like endless days at a time. There was nothing to do but wait. Imagine and wait and try to be patient from week twenty to week thirty-nine (when she finally arrived)...

And now, three pregnancies away from that one, I sit back and laugh at myself. There really is nothing like the anticipation of your first child! 

Because as cliche as it is, after the first one gets here, you really don't have the same time (or energy) to daydream about the second. Of course, you still do, to some small degree. But it really is different than the first pregnancy. 

And by the time you get to your third pregnancy, well you can just forget it. 

Fourth? I'm pregnant? Is that what this is? 

Jaxon sleeps in a hand-me-down crib complete with hand-me-down bedding and blankets left over from his sisters. His room is not decorated. At all. There's zero thought to it, because who the hell has time to think about decorating the third kid's nursery?

And little Jameson? She's also going to sleep in a hand-me-down crib (one that Rhealen slept in, but was used even before Rhealen for other children in our circle of friends) -- luckily for her, she'll get to use her biggest sister's hand-me-down princess bedding, which Mom and I just unearthed by chance the other day cleaning out Sidney's room at Mom's house (where her original dream nursery was). 

Poor Rhealen never had crib bedding. Hell, she didn't get a crib until she was almost eight months old! 

It's just funny, as I get further and further away from the halfway point of this pregnancy (I'm 25+ weeks roughly) I find myself so uninterested in baby things. I want to get Jameson a new carseat (the only thing I ever insist on buying new for each of the kids!), but other than that? I've got the desire to do nothing else. I don't want to talk nursery decor or outfits or anything even remotely baby-related. 

Because truthfully? You don't need 99% of that bullshit. It's all a commercial craze to make first-time moms spend money hand over first for things their baby doesn't want, need or care about. 

But it was nice once upon a time -- back when I was newly pregnant. That state of bliss was truly special, and I try to recognize it for the amazing time it was back then, back when there were no other kiddos with demands on my time, and all I had to do was sit around lazily and daydream of the baby growing in my belly.

Because nowadays, in the immortal words of Kimberly "Sweet Brown" Wilkins, ain't nobody got time for that. 

The Fine Line

Do you ever struggle with yourself internally over the fact that you feel happy when you should probably feel guilty? Or you feel guilty when you should feel grateful? More specifically, how do balance your emotions when you're fully aware and empathetic of infertility, yet you've never suffered one day from it?

I'm leading this post with a picture of this toilet -- a picture I've used a few times on the blog before, but my hope is that if you see the toilet, you'll be able to put two and two together that maybe this post will have a little TMI for you. Squeamish? Not into getting down and dirty regarding bodily functions? Afraid of pregnancy talk? Turn away now -- fair warning. I won't judge you, promise!

Ahh,YouTube. You know, you can find just about anything on the old tube of you. Music, books, dancing babies, makeup tutorials, previews - you name it, it's on there.

One of my favorite "themes" is the surprise! I'm pregnant! video, and I've rounded up some of my absolute favorites. Do you have any you love?

Jaxon

Unexpectedly and slightly suddenly, Jaxon Leon came into our lives Wednesday, Jan. 9th, at 8:52 PM weighing in at 5 lbs, 2.2 oz and measuring at 18 inches long. He's our little fella, and love his heart, he had a slightly bumpy start in this world. He finally came home yesterday, and we are working on getting into the routine of three kids and this new baby boy in the house!

I have more pictures to share, his birth story to write, and a million other details to jot down so I can cement these first few days. For now, I'm just popping in to explain my radio silence and excuse myself for a few more days. I've got big sisters to snuggle and a sweet boy to cuddle (and sleep to catch up on!) - welcome home, Jaxon!

I Wanted to Call This Post "A Tale of Two Titties" But It's Really a Tale of Three Nipples, Which Doesn't Quite Have the Same Ring to It

This post embarassing. And definitely TMI, so feel free to skip this one. Or not, 'cause it is kind of funny. And I don't mind sacrificing myself in the name of comedy. Let's continue...

A few Fridays ago, I noticed something strange. A growth, if you will. On the underside of my boob, not too far from the current residing nipple. This growth even looked like a nipple in shape, size and color. I thought maybe my husband had been practicing his voodoo on me again, and this was the result of his desires to have a genetically enhanced woman sleeping in bed next to him. 

Nice try honey, but I think even you could do better than wishing for one measly extra nipple. 

Me being me, I texted my (registered nurse) dad, called my mom and then turned to WebMD (always the wrong choice). The collective conclusion? A boil. All warnings shouted, "pain! swelling! puss! nothing you can do about it except wait to die a horrible death!" Slight overreaction, yes, but the point is: I prepared myself to wait it out and expected to be in pain all while this mass grew and grew and then finally burst open into a million directions flowing puss from the sky and death from above. True story. 

But time marched on and the thing didn't grow and it didn't hurt and I was a little let down that this whole boil thing didn't boil over (tsk-ska, rim-shot!). I figured I could wait it out to see my regular baby doctor, and so I did yesterday. His wise, profound and all-knowing medical conclusion? Who the hell knows. 

He looked at it, flopped my boob around in his hands like play-doh (because let's be real, after three kids and my no-bra-wearing stance, these things are way past deflated at this point) said some possible diagnosis that sounded like "battlestar galactica" to me, and then decided I needed to see a general surgeon. 

Now, when someone uses the term "general surgeon" my mind tends to explode and go straight to doom, despair and agony - even though I've come to learn it's a pretty broad and sweeping title. Nevertheless, hours later and two floors above my regular doctor, I found myself waiting to see someone with the title "general surgeon". 

This is also the point in the story when I'll admit I've never had much of a breast exam before, other than the usual feel-up by my doctor during well-baby visits, and even then it's only been a handful (of boob) of times. Yesterday, for the first time ever, I got to wear one of the paper vests. 

The powder-pink, six sizes too small for this bust size, paper-thin vests. Glory glory, hallelujah - I've found my calling in life! I'm going to design some kind of vest for larger women with larger boobs that covers all the areas a woman wants covered THAT ISN'T MADE OUT OF PAPER. I've never felt so awkward in my life, I kid you not. 

This "general surgeon" looked at the third nipple and concluded something about a blocked duct and breastfeeding and yadadada, I wasn't listening because my brain kept screaming, "YOU'RE WEARING A PINK PAPER VEST!" He told me the third nipple would have to be lanced and drained, and I was all, "I can do that at home, no problem," but apparently that's the whole purpose of his "general surgeon" title. 

The nurse brought in the tray of doom, as I like to call it, covered in Bactine and needles of various sizes, a sterilized bed-pan looking tray, and of course, plenty of latex gloves. She then left me with said tray of doom for a good eternity to sweat out any worries I may have about someone slicing and dicing my nipple, much like in the popular game Fruit Ninja. I proceeded to text my poor mother and apologize for dying without being able to purchase her Asian Zing sauce from BWW; she proceeded to call me a wimp, but I digress. 

The third nipple extraction process was quick, and mostly pain-free, thanks to the wicked feeling of my entire boob being asleep! You haven't lived until you've had the sensation of your boob falling asleep, trust me. The numbing medicine wore off and then MOTHER OF GOD, the pain. If you keep hearing a nagging, incessant whine from this part of the world, don't worry, it's just me lamenting over my poor boob and the loss of my third nipple. 

Of course, it could also be my husband lamenting over the loss of the third nipple. But I digress. 

The thing is now gone and my boob is slightly swollen and leaking, which really isn't any different than it was before. At this point in my pregnancy, my entire body is slightly swollen and leaking....from every available orifice. I'm hoping this was a one-time freak incident, and my boobs haven't decided to totally abandon ship and go all mental on me this late in the pregnancy game. I've still got expectations for them to perform to some degree in the coming weeks, and although three nipples would've lightened the load, the other two are just going to have to suck it up and deliver the goods as god and nature intended. 

And thus concludes the tale of the third nipple, may it ever rest (in Bactine covered pieces) in peace. 

Dads in the Delivery Room

Lately I've been hearing more chatter from dads who admit that being in the delivery room with their wives and witnessing the ordeal that is birth has a serious effect on their libidos. And while I think every situation is different, and some guys tend to over-exaggerate, I'll be the first to admit that it must be hard for a man to watch a woman give birth to their child. In my opinion, it has to be hard for anyone to watch the childbirth experience - family, friends, nurses, what have you - it's quite the feat of nature and should never be down-played as a minuscule experience...from either side of the bed. 

My husband is a very supportive partner during delivery, and I've come to rely on his presence as a soothing factor, a constant. He may not be able to express himself in words, but I've learned to hear the love in his refusal to leave my side. Before delivery, during and after - he refuses to be anywhere but there with me. I've come to understand it's how he shows his support. He's not one to hold my hand constantly and whisper encouragement or be completely hands-on involved during the delivery; but he's there, right beside me for however long it takes, no matter what. 

with Sidney, 2007

That being said, he's right beside me...at the top of the hospital bed. He's not too keen on keeping an eye on things downstairs, if you know what I mean. He's witnessed both of our children entering the world, and while he's acknowledged it's beautiful and miraculous to witness what a woman's body can do, he also admits it's a bit gory and horrific to watch. Personally, I wouldn't know. I haven't watched myself give birth before, and I don't really have a strong desire to do so this time either. I've seen my share of birth videos, mostly home-births, and while fascinating and humbling, they do make me squeamish if I'm being perfectly honest here.  It's just endlessly amazing how the female body works, and while I have the utmost respect for nature, the sheer logistics of it all, and the wonderment of the situation - when you get down to it, I feel like childbirth is just a little too real for me to appreciate watching, to want to watch and to walk away unaffected in some small or significant way. 

Maybe it truly does affect some men; maybe they can never get past that moment and find it incredibly hard to be intimate with their loved one again after witnessing birth. While I do my best to understand that from a man's perspective, I also will be the first to admit - that's the man's hang up and not the fault of his partner. If he can't move past the experience and regain control of his intimacy it shouldn't be considered the "fault" of his partner. Luckily for us, this hasn't been an issue in the past - and I'm hoping it never becomes an issue, for any reason. 

Still, I fully intend to keep the sheets pulled as low as possible, keep as much of my modesty in tact as I can, and do my best not to glance down towards my feet any during delivery...and I'm sure my husband will be doing the same thing. 

with Rhealen, 2011

Does that make us backwards? A little too politically incorrect for the times? Maybe. But it's what works for us - and I'm a firm believer that doing what's best for individuals, couples, individual couples is what makes the world go 'round. 

31.

31 weeks! 

I'm stuck in that lull between really pregnant and really not quite done being pregnant. The end is so near yet so freaking far away. I'm convinced January 31st is never coming, but I also can't believe we're days away from December 1st. Call it pregnancy crazy, but math is a total bitch when you're gestating. 

So, thirty-one weeks, and I feel fine. Really, I do! For the most part. My back aches and my bladder is never going to recover and I have hot-flashes like no one's business, but it's all a part of the joy of creating life. I'm going to miss these days sooner rather than later, because as much as I may whine about it from time to time, I really do enjoy being pregnant. 

Baby boy is doing good, as far as I can tell. He's a regular mover and shaker - not to the excess Rhealen was but not so docile as Sidney was. Somewhere in the middle, I'd say (let's hope he has the middle ground traits of their personalities, too!). He remains nameless, and I've come to terms with the fact that he'll probably remain nameless until sometime after he arrives. I think Justin is waiting to get a look at him before deciding on a moniker, which I know is a totally common practice among a lot of people, it's just not my personal style per se. I/we named the girls pretty much the moment we found out they were, indeed, girls. 

And speaking of doing things differently than with the girls, we are such total typical "third time" parents. We have nothing ready for this poor kid - no crib set up, no clothes ready, no bottles or anything. We have a carseat waiting to be picked up, washed and installed. We have some blankets and bibs and a few outfits for him when he's bigger (thanks to anyone who has or plans to gift us 'hand-me-downs'!), but that's it. My grand-parents sent us a sweet little outfit a few months ago, and I think we'll use it as his "going home" outfit. But other than that, I feel so unprepared. And yet, totally calm about it. We'll stop by the store on the way home from the hospital if need be.

Really, you don't need that much for a newborn. They don't care if they come home to a fully decorated nursery or not. They don't care if your swing and carseat and bouncy-chair all match. They don't care what brand bottles you use; they care about bottles even less if you're popping a boob in their mouth! And they especially don't care what they wear as long as it's warm and cozy.

And I've gotten totally side-tracked here! Point made: I'm 31 weeks today, and all is well! 

Five Little Things

Just an incomplete, rambling little list of things I'd like to enjoy before the big baby day gets here late January: 

1. A haircut - I've let my hair just grow this entire pregnancy with no trims, no changes, nothing. I don't necessarily want to cut any length off (because I have a wedding to partake in come June!), but I feel like I need/deserve a little vavavoom in the hair department sometime soon. 

2. New bras - I'm the kind of gal who wears her bras 'til they're hanging on by strings and not much else. The straps can shred, the underwire can pop out - I'm still wearing 'em. I realize this is probably the least flattering thing I can do style-wise, and it's probably not very beneficial to my back to haul around these girls with such minimal support, but hey! what's a girl to do? (Hint: go buy some new bras, dammit!) 

3. Mani/pedi - Let me go ahead and admit, I've never had a pedicure. My poor, pitiful, abused little feet. They've never been treated with the same regard as my hands; which isn't saying a whole lot, because my hands are just about as abused as my feet. Still, I'd like to have one or both of these pamperings before the boy gets here. 

4. Movie date - I'll go with my husband, my Mom, my best friends, anyone! I haven't been to the theaters since March, I believe, and I probably won't go for awhile next year either. It'd be nice to sit down and enjoy a pound of popcorn and a gallon of soda in front of the big screen! One last movie theater hurrah! 

5. Weekend getaway - I realize this one is far-fetched, and I really don't see it happening for me and Justin at this point; still, this is my highly fantasized list of wants and desires, so I'm going to go all-out. I'd love it if Justin and I could escape for a weekend, just the two of us. Somewhere close, somewhere without the kids, somewhere for two days away from home. Between his work schedule, the girls and my restricted traveling (plus that thing called a "family budget") I can't foresee this happening, but a pregnant girl can dream! 

And there you have it, five little things I'd like to have happen before baby boy makes his arrival in just two short months! I'm not asking for a lot here (at least I don't think so), and hint hint most of these items can totally be gift-cards -> Christmas gifts for me, if anyone in my family/friends circle would be so inclined! 

Soul, Baby

I wasn't kidding when I said before that this baby digs the R&B, old-school Motown, oldies and goodies. I keep this music on constantly, and he seems to dig it. And I seem to dig it even more than before. Little brother has got soul already...

Some of my (our) favorites:



When my soul was in the lost-and-found
You came along to claim it
I didn't know just what was wrong with me
Till your kiss helped me name it
Now I'm no longer doubtful of what I'm living for
'Cause if I make you happy I don't need no more



I'm a poorman's son, from across the railroad tracks,
The only shirt I own is hangin' on my back,
But I'm the envy of ev'ry single guy
Since I'm the apple of my girl's eye.

24.

Today marks week 24!

For those of you who don't keep up with pregnancy week-by-week, that is officially month six! I realize I am absolutely horrible at documenting pregnancy, and honestly, I have no intention of keeping up with it week to week, or month to month. I finally installed a little "ticker" over on the right-hand side just to remind myself where I am with this pregnancy. It's totally cliche, but I really don't have the time to dwell on being pregnant. I just am, and thankfully, I am easily at this point; so there is no sitting around, lazily day-dreaming about baby for hours on end.

Some quick notes about this pregnancy at week 24, (because I know someday I will appreciate the fact that I made myself jot down a quick something, anything about being pregnant with number three):

-kicks and hiccups are how we start our day...baby boy is most active before I go to sleep and when I wake up, which makes me think he's really active all night long and ohmygod, I already dread sleepless nights with him!

-my hair has never looked better, so thanks for that kid! I know there's an old wives tale about how girls steal your beauty and boys amplify it, or something, so I find it kind of funny how this pregnancy is the only one I've been able to enjoy the perks of shiny, voluminous hair that grows non-stop.

-heartburn has been fairly minimal (especially compared to the last two pregnancies) and my body overall feels really good; it's impossible to sleep on my right side, which I've learned recently is my favorite side, so that's a bit of a bummer. Left side (with a good pillow between the knees) is the only way to go!

-my boobs are acting as I expected them to (leaky and full and a total pain in the ass already), but there's a new addition of painful sensations whenever I step outside into the lovely, brisk weather. This is a new one for me, as the girls never really acted this way when I was pregnant with the other girls, so if you're responsible for this, kid, I don't thank you.

-weight gain at this point is nil, which I'm thankful for. Being a plus-size momma to begin with, I really have to watch my weight throughout pregnancy, and so far so good. I passed my glucose test with flying colors (first time and everything!), so that's a huge relief. My appetite is so weird at this point, I guess I can attribute the no weight gain thing to the baby. I keep waiting to get those voracious cravings and big bellied appetites, but no. No such luck. If I have the "want to" to want to eat two meals a day, then I'm flying high here.

-we still don't have a name for this kid, which is still killing me. Every night I lay down and ask Justin, "so what are we naming this baby?" and every night I fall asleep before we can settle on something. Oy vey.

I guess soon enough I'll turn sideways and take a picture of this bump, but honestly, I'm so unmotivated to document everything at this point. I'm just ready to be done being pregnant (which is a total conundrum  because I'm also trying to savor every second of it since it's definitely THE LAST TIME, Mom) and for baby to be here! That's when the real fun begins :)

Boy in Blue

1. Carter's romper 2. Liberty Silver Baby Boy Teaspoons 3. Adidas Superstar 2 Shoes 4. Build-a-Bear Sweet Cuddles Teddy Blue

Okay, so I'm not the first to admit - shopping for a boy is not nearly as much fun as shopping for girls! Boys are limited, and as silly as it sounds, I'm so limited in what defines "boy". I have a much easier time dressing my girls up in unisex items, but when I look at the same things for a boy to wear, I feel that tug in me that is completely backwards saying, "a boy can't wear that", when in fact, YES,  a boy can wear anything he wants to!

I need to get over myself and get out of my head. It's time to re-think my values and perceptions and focus on a happy, well-rounded and fulfilled son. Not a son covered head-to-toe in blue.

(Although blue is definitely growing on me! But I think that's just the general excitement over having a boy this time!)

Baby Brother!

So...baby is a boy!

A boy, and now my mind is totally blank - I know squat about little boys. I was completely prepared to raise another little lady, but a little lad has me thrown for a loop! What will we do with a baby boy running around here?

We're all very excited (even Sidney, although she was a little anti-boy at first) and now we're counting down the days to January with even more excitement than we know what to do with.

There are already two little outfits hanging out at home for baby brother (thanks to Aunt Fanny!) and lots more of blue, trucks, and all the other stereotypical boy fashions that are sure to trickle into our lives in the coming months -we welcome it all!

We're so excited to meet you, baby boy - you are sure to complete our family and make our lives that much more special. You've already got two big sisters ready to show you the ropes and love you to pieces!

A Wee Update on the Wee One

I haven't really talked much about this latest babe, only because there really isn't much to talk about at this point. I'll be 18 weeks tomorrow, so we should be finding out the little one's gender in the next couple weeks. Justin and I are both putting our money down for a girl, but everyone else seems to think boy. I've gotten so used to having girls, I can't imagine not having another one, but of course, we'll be tickled pink/blue either way!

So far this pregnancy is pretty easy. I have random bouts of sickness, but fortunately they are far and few in between. Weeks ago, I had an episode of hanging out the side of my car puking in the rain while Rhealen screamed from the back-seat. Not a fun moment, but again, I'm grateful they're few and far between. I haven't had the aching back I had the entire time I carried RJ and SidMo, but I'm sure it's just a matter of time. I can already feel the relaxin working in my body loosening everything up downstairs; sometimes I feel like my hips are completely separating altogether, but I know I'll be grateful for the stretch come D-day.

One new pregnancy symptom I'm loving that I never really had with the girls is a luscious head of hair! My hair has always grown at snail-speed, but it seems to grow overnight like a Chia pet and is full and shiny and glorious. It's too bad I don't do much with my hair, but honestly, I don't have to much. Wash it and go, and I feel like whipping what little hair I have back and forth all day.

Overall, it's been a pretty breezy pregnancy so far. My decreased appetite is slowly but surely coming back (as is the norm when you approach 20 weeks), and of course, other decreased appetites are making their way back, which is welcomed by both people in this marriage of mine. I'm feeling little flutters and kicks more and more every day, and I dream nightly of this baby one way or another(in my dreams, I admit it's a boy but my heart tells me it's a girl! PS Remind me to tell you of the INSANE dream I had regarding RJ a few nights ago!)

I can't wait to share our mid-way ultrasound with you - just a couple more weeks! 

RJ's Birth Story

The birth story of our little Rhealen Jo, if you'd like to read...

It all started with a normal weekly visit to my doctor on Friday (the 3rd), first an ultrasound and then my exam. My mom and mother-in-law came along, as did Sidney - she was so excited about seeing Rhealen on the "big TV". During my ultrasound, the technician said it looked like I had low levels of amniotic fluid, which didn't really suprise me. I had been feeling like I was leaking for close to two weeks prior! Dr. Earl (my super wonderful doctor, whom I love...a lot) was concerned about the fluid levels so he set up my induction for Monday morning (we had to report to the hospital Sunday evening to get things started).

The weekend before RJ got here was peaceful and easy and laid back, lots of cuddle time with Sidney and naps on the couch. Justin's mom came down Friday night and helped us clean the house and get things organized. Even though I was only two weeks away from my due date, there were still a lot of last minute things we hadn't gotten around to doing.  My father-in-law and his girlfriend cooked us dinner and we shared a huge watermelon Sunday afternoon - my Mom came down for a little while and helped us get things packed and organized. It was great, feeling completely supported and surrounded by people who were as excited as we were!

Sunday evening, we drove to the hospital as a family of three - the last time we ever rode in my car that way.  Justin insisted on stopping to wash off the car (because the baby couldn't come home in a dirty car) and Sidney fell asleep on the way to the hospital (you could tell she was excited, ha!). It was simple and sweet and the perfect little moment. Cut to boring hospital paperwork (there always seems to be a ton of it, even when you pre-register!) and a funny "us" kind of moment when Sidney got hand-sanitizer in her eyes. I always feel like a rolling hillbilly caravan whenever we go somewhere as a family! My mother-in-law came to Sidney's rescue, even though she was a little apprehensive about leaving Justin and me behind at the hospital.  I tried to talk Justin into going with them so he'd get one more decent night's sleep, but he would hear none of it. Justin and I spent the evening listening to the baby's heartbeat and timing my contractions (which where about six minutes apart at that time and pretty steady in strength). The nurse came in to check me and give me my Cervidil injection - she was a little suprised to see I was already at 2cm, which made me a little suprised! I guess we were closer to having RJ than we realized!

The night was long and aggravating mostly, Rhealen wouldn't hold still for the heart monitors and the nurse kept having to come in every hour or so to move me and move her and move the monitor. I don't think either one of us got much sleep! The morning was quiet and started off perfectly. I got up and took a long, steaming hot shower. Justin kicked back on the couch and I piled up in the recliner for my last few minutes of freedom before I was stuck in the bed.

They began my Pitocin around 7AM, and already I was at 4cm. The contractions kept coming hard and steady, the people began to pour in (hi, Mom and Mamaw, Shirley and Sidney, Fanny...) and it made the reality of it all even more real. I love the buzz before a baby makes his/her debut into the world - it's the most exciting, anticipated moment a person can ever experience, from either side of the hospital bed!

My labor progression was blessedly quick and easy. I got the epidural early on and it definitely helped me relax. I am definitely not one of these people who's equipped to handle pain of any kind, so I've always opted for medical intervention at the first opporunity! It doesn't take away from my birth experience, in my opinion, in fact I feel it made it all the more enjoyable! And both of my girls came out healthy and happy, so epidurals! FTW!

My progression went something like this: 4cm when we started the Pitocin, stalled at 6cm for an hour or so, 7.5cm at one moment and then straight to 10cm in less than 15 minutes! Quick and easy and pretty much pain-free (again, thank you epidural!)!

 But this is the part I barely believe myself, and I'm sure other people will disbelieve - I pushed once. Just one big push and there she was! No grunting, no groaning, no strain, no pooping (THANK YOU LORD) - just one push and "welcome to the world, Rhealen"!

Justin barely had time to get off the couch, Dr. Earl barely had time to put his scrubs on, and no one had bothered to turn off Deadliest Warrior on the TV.

And there she was, perfect and pink and screaming her little head off. She peed all over the doctor, gripped the side of the warming tray for dear life, and managed to roll from back to belly and then again to her back within the first few moments of her life.

She was born quick into a moment of chaos and was sweet and darling from the second she got here. That's been her way from day one, in the midst of all of our running and busy lives, she exists happily and perfectly. It's been less than three weeks since she arrived, but it feels like she's been here forever. She fits, perfectly and wonderfully and is loved more than life itself.

Rhealen Jo

6 lb. 14 oz.

19.5 inches

born at 11:22 AM

6/6/11

happy full term Memorial's day

Today is Memorial's Day, first and foremost, so thank you to all those who have served, are serving and will serve in the future. I'm one happy, fat and free pregnant chick because of you.

Today also marks the 37 week mark, so it's all down hill from here! There's nothing so lovely as reaching that "full term" mark, and I'm feeling extra good today, just being alive and pregnant and happy. Very, very lucky is how I feel. (And also a little freaked that she'll be here before we ever get to being "ready"!!!)

This has been one of the best Mondays I've had in awhile, maybe ever.

push presents, baby

I am not the kind of woman that demands or expects the whole idea of a "push present", although I think it is a sweet sentiment in an odd little way. I don't feel like I need to get lavish gifts (or any gifts, for that matter) for having this sweet baby. She is the gift, the best thing about this entire journey - I can't imagine trying to eclipse her with some monetary thing.

Still, if her dear old Dad (or anyone else who loves me) wanted to splurge on some push presents, I wouldn't totally object. The spoiled, selfish side of me has no trouble saying "heck yes I deserve something!", though honestly I think it's probably more along the lines of a medal than a pair of cute shoes. But I digress. Here are some items I wouldn't scoff at if they turned up somewhere post-pushing.

1 - 2 - 3 - 4

 1 - I love Toms, and I really want my own pair. I found a pair of similar-looking Old Navy crochet shoes at a second hand store last summer, and I've worn them out! Momma needs a new pair...

2 - I love hand-stamped jewelry (specifically Lisa Leonard designs), but I'd be happy with any cute piece showcasing my sweet babes.

3 - Rhealen is totally screwing up my summer lake plans, but I still intend to find some time to park my behind on a boat on the lake (maybe even swim?!?!). I definitely need a new swimsuit - I've been wearing the same one now for close to five years. Wow, I feel embarassed to even admit that.

4 - I'm still pining over this Proenza Schouler wallet, same as I have been for over a year now. It's just so damned pretty!

If you love me, you can send me any (or all) of the goodies above. I promise to love you back - and maybe even name the next baby after you!

(Just kidding, honey, I know we're not having any more babies! Or are we?)