Marry Me.

My husband,

True love is like leaving stones on a path, so you can find your way back home.
Our love... is a true love.
And we have many rocks along our path.

It is hard for me to see you as someone other than the very same person I knew way back in the beginning of our relationship. High school to be exact.
Not only are you the very same person, but I feel like I am the same person too.
Just extended.
I have extended myself into a mother, most importantly, to four beautiful souls.
It is my daily call to life.
But I am also a wife. Your wife. And this year, we celebrate nine years.

Nine years.
Married.
That doesn't seem quite as wild as saying we have been together for fourteen years this December though. Fourteen?!
 
We were lucky enough to have found each other when we were just teenagers. Our senior year, on two different paths, that happened to collide in an Ecomonics class.
Until then, we didn't know that either existed. It is so plain to see that God had a plan for our lives.

We dated casually for a good part of our senior year. Mostly doing things together with a group of friends. I was insecure about the fact that you liked me, and that you were shorter than I was. At that age, I was concerned what others would think about my relationship more than what I actually wanted to let myself feel for you.
But thankfully, you never gave up on me.

By the summer after graduation, I had really let myself fall for you.
I let all my insecurities fade into the background, and I let you love me. And in turn, I found that I really loved you.
I loved being with you. And doing cheesy things like playing miniature golf, or carving pumpkins together.
I loved holding your hand as we drove around in your Monte Carlo.
I loved writing little notes to you and leaving them on your car. And making you handmade Valentines, and Anniversary cards.
I loved kissing you. And I mean really kissing you. Spending hours cuddled on a couch just tangled in each others lips. Listening to the hum of the TV in the background.
I loved that we let ourselves become a mess of tears while watching a movie of a love lost because we automatically turned ourselves into the characters.

I loved our innocence. Young hearts on fire.
And that we reserved ourselves for marriage.
I loved that we were friends first above all else. To cherish who we were as people, and not just as an object of affection.
I loved that we were on this unbeaten path together.

We decided that we wanted to wed about four years into our relationship. Talking about where we wanted to live, the kinds of things we wanted to do together as we aged, how many kids we would have... you know, the usual pre marital musings that two people talk about before a man proposes.

I knew that you were going to ask me to marry you soon. We were looking at rings online, deciding what I liked and how much you felt like you could afford to shell out for a carat diamond antique style white gold ring. I had found one that I liked. It was to be imported from Italy. And sold online from New York. It was a one of a kind. And it looked perfect even from a computer screen.
I somehow came to know that you had in fact ordered said ring, and intervened the mail courier to actually open it before you had a chance to ask me. I actually showed my sister the ring before you even got to see it!!

And therefore, have since been named your "mail order bride". Which is also why we don't have a definite engaged date. I think it was in May because we had an engagement party shortly after at the lake, and it was still chilly outside, and the day after we were supposed to go to the Indy 500 for the Memorial Day race... but drank a bit too much from our party the night before. Oops!

We decided on October 2 because it was the only date left that month in the year 2004. I wasn't willing to wait another year just to be married in October. So we ran with it.
Okay, I ran with it. Booking this and buying that. I was a wedding planning fool for the next four months.

Like most brides, I wanted everything to be perfect.
And it was.
The actual day however, came and went so quickly.
I remember feeling so tired as we settled into our honeymoon suite in Anderson, IN that night to be close to the airport to zip off to the Keys the next day.
Smiling at each other as we just kept saying, "We're married. We're married!"
It was surreal. Our relationship had finally made that turn.
We were finally a Mr. and Mrs.

Again, adding more stones on the path.
From our first real house in Auburn, to return trips to Key West. Fall parties and celebrating milestone birthdays in block party style. Buying dogs and going on shopping sprees for wardrobe and home essentials.
We were having a ball. Living life without caution. Just taking every day as it came.
And before we knew it, eight years had gone by. We had moved three more times!

We had done so many things as a twosome.
Loving fiercely all along the way.
And we were ready to share that with another human being.
We tried to get pregnant in 2006. And sadly, lost our first baby at 11 weeks.
It wasn't until eight months later that we would feel that excitement and cautious hope again.

Our first born entered our lives almost four years after we had been married.
And, I fell in love with you all over again.
You were suddenly part of this new realm to life. A parental realm. A dad. And, my heart was so full for you.

We moved {yet again} and fell pregnant just eight and a half short months after our first arrived.
A beautiful baby girl this time.
We were so complete. In that moment.
The quintessential "perfect" family.
Life just zipped by.

We moved again, and have since added two more precious beings to our family.
Through it all, my heart has always been fond of what we have accomplished. Together.


You.
It's always been you.

You build me up. You make me whole. I feel pretty, because of you. You tell me. You make me feel it.
You compliment my ability to raise our children.
You are often the one to apologize when we have a rift of the minds, and we are sitting with arms crossed at each other.
You don't care if you have to riffle through a mountain of laundry in the morning to find that matching sock. Or that your pants have wrinkles from being left in the dryer for days and then restarted time and again.

You appreciate me.
And you let me know it.

So today, my love I want to return that feeling of gratitude to you.
I want you to know that I appreciate and adore you. For everything that you are, and everything that you do.
From your grumbles at times, to that deep belly laugh when you see something funny while watching TV.
From the very beginning, until our very last days.
I love you.
I love dreaming about our future together. And making plans as a family.

And I look forward to many more stones along our path.
Happy Anniversary!
Babe.

Love your hot wife,

BEET it!

We are up to something good.
In the form of juice.

That's right.
Juice.

We recently {yesterday} bought a juicer after we were at a friend's one weekend and saw all the things you can actually get juice from, and still make it taste good.
We had heard of putting things like raw beets, carrots, apples, strawberries, pears, grapes, broccoli, and kale into this microblade extractor and get all the goods in the form of a liquid.
But we didn't know it could be this good.

We tried it last night and started putting a mixture of this and that in.
And then got up this morning and made a great little recipe to send My Sweet off with for his lunch today.

If you are interested here is what I did:

1 handful organic red grapes {stems and all}
2 organic kiwis {peel and all}
10 organic strawberries {tops and all}
1 bunch of organic broccoli crowns {leaving an inch of the stem}
1 handful organic baby spinach

It is fabulous. And you can't even tell you are getting all those vitamins. And natural sugars.

We did a beet recipe last night that we liked too:

1 handful organic green grapes {stems and all}
1/4 raw beet {medium sized}
10 organic strawberries {tops and all}
1/2 medium sized organic apple {any kind will do}
1 handful organic red kale

Nev and Nolan slurped that down no problem. I barely got a drink out of it, honestly.
Really good. And good for you!

We found out that raspberries don't really juice and are best eaten as they are, and really the same is true to be said of blueberries. Peaches come out as a thick {smoothie-esque} liquid.

*Edited to add a couple more recipes we have liked.
Parsley is such a refreshing, clean addition to the drinks. I try to add a little with each one now.

1 organic green apple
1/2 medium organic yellow beet
1 handful curly parsley
1 cucumber
1 organic kiwi
1 large crown of broccoli
2 T milled organic flaxseed

-----------------------------------------
1/2 organic Bartlett pear
1 handful organic spinach
1 organic banana
1 organic kiwi
1 organic small yellow beet
1/2 handful parsley
1 organic gala apple
2 T milled organic flaxseed

------------------------------------------
1 small piece of pineapple
1 small organic yellow beet
1 handful parsley
1 large crown broccoli
1 handful organic green grapes {stems and all}
1 handful organic red kale
1/2 organic green apple
2 T milled organic flaxseed

Parsley is a good for cleaning your kidneys of salt build up. Beets are great for cleaning the blood and adding a boost to your sex drive. Kale is a great antioxidant. And flaxseed is a fabulous source of Omega 3's.

The skinny on two months:

Two months.

And, somehow it feels like he has been here the whole time.

It is weird how someone can just "appear" and have this presence like you have known them forever.

{I like to think it is because he was always supposed to be here}

Anyways.

He has joined our family, and just fit right in.

Since day one.

He is {almost} smiling on command these days.

I will sit him in my lap with my knees up, him resting on them, and ask him for big smiles.

And just like that, he gives them to me.

With a couple coos in the mix too.
It is something so sweet.

And he isn't selfish either, he shares his smiles with everyone.
{except the lady at The Fresh Market the other day, he actually did the opposite and started crying}
He can often be caught smiling when you aren't looking too. 
I have been holding him, walking around doing whatever it is that I do all day, and I will look down and he is all going Cheshire Cat on me. It is hilarious.

He likes to nibble on his hands now. Full on sucking sounds can be heard from the back seat while driving sometimes.
And is still exclusively breastfeeding. And going strong.
{still praising God for small miracles in that department}
Getting up once at night to eat.
Yeah.
That's right.
I am very blessed.

He is also very active. During the day.
Swinging his arms, kicking his legs, and even bopping himself in the face multiple a couple times with a closed fist because he can't control his muscles yet. Poor kid never cries, and I hate to laugh, but it is pretty funny.
He has tried rolling from his belly to back, out of pure frustration from doing tummy time.

Overall, just a happy little guy.

Last month's stats were:

Height: 22" {75th percentile}

Weight: 9lb11oz {50th percentile}

This month's stats:

Height: 23 3/8" {75th percentile}

Weight: 10lb8oz {25th percentile}

Officially getting into 6m clothes now.

That's our {second} boy.

Long and skinny.

 

Two month pics:

 

 At a Tincaps game.

 At the lake. See those smiles?

 

At home. Ready for bed. Just eating his hands.

 

FUNfetti! You DEVIL...

We have fallen off the organic wagon this week.

Fallen. Off. The. Wagon. People!

I bought our usual grocery list which is 90% organic.

Some things like sausage and bacon are not organic but it is Msg and Nitrate free.

Anyways.

I hit the ground hard when we ventured down the baking aisle.

For some ungodly reason I started looking through the chemical cake mixes.
{they were on sale}

And Nev, who was my shopping buddy while Nolan was in school this week, got big eyes as I slowly put it back on the shelf.

"Can we get it?!" she exclaimed.

"No." I returned. Starting to push the cart down the aisle.

"Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeease, momma?" she proceeded, now clutching the box.

I stopped.

Looked at her big {beautiful} brown eyes, and little grin.

"Okay." I replied, "What kind of chemicals frosting do you want?"

We settled on the box of vanilla funfetti mix with blue funfetti "happy birthday" frosting in the plastic can.

And, we went home. That very night we made them after dinner.

{which happened to be 100% organic chicken broccoli alfredo, everyone's favorite!}

They baked up perfectly. They were soft. And moist.

And everyone got to eat one before bed.

We made mini's too, so we gave the kids the littles, while I indulged in a full size.

I cannot lie.

I just can't.

I absolutely hate that I love funfetti crapcakes.

I have gone so far as to sneak mini cupcakes when no one is looking this week.

And have even dipped pretzels in the disgustingly delicious blue frosting out of that plastic can.

By the handful.

I am ashamed.

A positive to this horror, is that I have fulfilled a craving and will not be purchasing said frosting and cake mix again any time soon.

Okay.
I think that is it for my Friday confessional.

By the way, we ended up tossing the frosting yesterday and gave the cakes to our dog, Samson.
His "birthday" was yesterday anyway.
He is 13.
13.

I have been with My Sweet for 14 years this December.
We literally got that dog at the beginning of our relationship.
Time flies when you are having fun.
Fun.

Funfetti.

{oh here we go again}

 

Organic Chicken Fried Rice Recipe

I love Pinterest.
For a variety of reasons.
But mostly because I have this digital recipe box that I can save files to as necessary. And then reference them when I need to recreate things {or meals in this case, just like the one I made last night}.

{Organic- by my choice} Chicken Fried Rice.
It was easy, and really good.
Which puts it at the top of my list of faves.
And thankfully, my kids list too. Minus the peas, please.

Anyways, here is what I did different than the recipe I pinned. Since I didn't have the time for slow cooker teriyaki chicken, and I didn't have sesame oil on hand.

Ingredients:
For the rice:
2 cups Organic brown rice
5 cups water
2 Tablespoons Olive Oil
Salt, optional
1 Tablespoon Organic Chicken Broth

Boil the water and salt. Add the rice and olive oil. Simmer for 25-30 minutes, or until the liquid is absorbed.
Put in a bowl. Drizzle the chicken broth over the rice. Set aside.

1/2 cup Organic peas, frozen
1/2 cup Organic carrots, frozen
1 medium Organic onion, diced
1 large Organic garlic clove, minced
2 Organic boneless chicken breasts, cubed
1 Organic brown egg
3T Organic butter
1/4 Cup Organic Chicken Broth
1 Tablespoon Organic Soy Sauce
1/4 Cup Organic Soy Sauce
Salt to taste
Black Pepper to taste

On medium heat, saute' the peas, carrots, onion, garlic and chicken with the butter and salt and pepper. Before the chicken is fully cooked, add the chicken broth and 1 Tablespoon of soy sauce. Let the mixture simmer in the broth for 8-10 minutes and then drain any remaining liquid from the pan. Saute' the mixture on medium to high heat, letting the chicken and veggies brown a little. Scraping the goodness from the bottom of the pan with a metal spatula. Next, crack the egg over the pan seared mix and stir it in to cook it. Remove from heat. Add the rice from earlier and stir it all together. Pour the remaining 1/4 cup of soy sauce over top and give a final stir. Serves 4-6 people.



And, if you are like my house, there will probably be leftovers, which are great the next day... cold. YUM!

If you make it my way, let me know what you think! Or you can link up to the original recipe from Pinterest here

Four.

Four kids.

Four weeks.

How is it possible that I have given birth four weeks ago already?!

The phrase, "time flies.." is an understatement.

 

 

Obviously our days seem to run together in the summer especially, because we are doing so much.

 

Nash has already visited the zoo three times, gone to two movies at the outdoor theater, been to the pool and the lake, taken a road trip to Indy, gone to the grocery, and the mall.

Most of which he has completely slept through.

 

I am exclusively breastfeeding.

And so far, highly succeeding at it.

{praise Jesus}

 

He is a good nurser.

But has major reflux. 

Even throwing up what seems like his entire feeding some times. Projectile style.

He is getting up once at night to eat usually between 2 and 3am, after I feed him at 10:30 or 11pm. Then, he gets up again between 6:30-7:30am. He squeaks and grunts to wake me. Which is nice in comparison to the way his sister, Nadie used to wake up... in full fire alarm mode.

Speaking of Nadie... who has become my first real toddler.

I guess everyone has to have one, right?

 

She has been known to scale our coffee table, or the side end tables next to the couch just to go soaring through the air and crash land on the cushions, throw herself on the ground in protest, remove items from the pantry like whole loaves of bread or boxes of macaroni and leave them all around the living room.

She likes to unroll the toilet paper. All of it.

And lift the lid of the potty and say, "peeeeeeee" if someone forgets to shut the door to the bathroom.

She will scream to high heaven if a plastic shape on her shape sorting mailbox won't fit in the right place.

She likes to brush her "tea" and use everyone's toothbrush to do it.

She used to eat anything. And now, she is picky.

Refusing many things and only consuming her "dee" {drink} most days.

And then later when it's time for bed, asking to "EAT!!!" and then going into a full on meltdown until her daddy {who usually caves} gives her something.

She is rowdy.

And loud.

And into everything, that isn't hers.

Has bumps.

And bruises. 

From doubling as a bumper car with such things as doors, walls, the coffee table...

She likes to unload the hair drawer with all the brushes and hair ties. And her clothes dresser upstairs. Throwing her shirts over the balcony in the loft to the living room below.

And the shoe closet. Often trying on pairs and leaving them in places for us to find later.

She has become a bit of a handful. 

Keeping me on my toes.

And, as I just told a friend recently, also keeps me on my knees... praying for my sanity.

I do love her.

That split tooth smile.

Her wild giggle when I tickle her neck.

And the way she follows me around.

Running everywhere she goes.

Needless to say, we are still adjusting over here.

The children love their new baby.

Everyone likes to take turns holding him.

They sing to him.

Give him hugs. And kisses. On the lips.

And will come to the rescue with his pacifier, if he spits it out and is crying for its return.

Even Nadie knows what to do! 

 

My day to day duties are slowly getting back on track.

Laundry is at an all time high.

Dishes get put in the sink after dinner and will sit for days before I muster the energy to load the dishwasher.

I go back to sleep after his early morning feed, and thankfully the kids are sleeping in every day from pure exhaustion from the day before, but I am missing my Sweet in the morning. Sending him off with just a morning kiss instead of breakfast, or a packed lunch to take with him.

I shower mid day. Or at night. When my Sweet is home and can man the ship.

I am succeeding though.

{I think}

Four weeks in.

I will say, that having four... means more.

More demands.

Less time.

 

 

But, I wouldn't have it any other way.

We are blessed. As always.

 

Newly born picture:

 

One day old in the hospital:

 

Four weeks:

Do you see those BLUE eyes already?!

Already changing... {wipe a tear from my eye}

 

 

Besides the seventy five degree weather we are having in August... I am looking forward to a nice weekend.

Nash is getting baptized Saturday night, and my Sweet and I are getting some much needed time together at a Tincaps game Sunday afternoon.

 

 

 

 

Nash Ryan~ A Birth Story

*Lengthy. Detailed. Birth documentary-esque post ahead.
That is sure to entertain.
Just sayin'...

I left off last week after my appointment.

I was five days overdue at that point, and had just came home from an ultrasound that revealed little amniotic fluid left, and possible meconium or vernix inside the sac {per my OB you can't tell what it is on an ultrasound. But regardless, it doesn't matter if you expose the baby to it for three seconds or six days, if it is meconium, you will have to have a good suction upon delivery}

So.

The next morning, Friday, I went to my last OB appointment.

Just me and the three babes.

Early.

And we made it. No problem. On time even.

{My Sweet had a really full schedule planned that day, with an appointment that happened to be at the exact same time.}

I finally got to be seen at almost 9:20am.

{my appointment was scheduled for 8:45am}

Upon examination my OB asked me what I wanted to do. And immediately, I said I wanted to be induced. That same day if possible.

I explained how yesterday revealed meconium/vernix, that my non stress test showed I had contractions, but they were not productive, and that I was still only 2cm. I clearly needed a little push.

And what better time than now?

Like right now.

She obliged. And called the on call physician to verify induction would be fine for today.

GREEN LIGHT! GO!

And that was it.

I had picked my delivery date.

Again.

I hurried home.

{after a Dunkin Donuts run for pre promised donuts and an iced tea}

Gathered the mostly packed labor bag, video camera, photo camera, baby bag with the baby book and newborn outfits, my overnight bag with a change of clothes for My Sweet and some PJ's.

While clammering to nail down childcare for my kids, and talking to my mom, my sister, and my Sweet I then packed the kids some things in an overnight bag.

Soon after, my sister in law came and loaded us all up to drive me to the hospital, where I would meet my Sweet at the entrance.

I was giddy.

Full of excitement.

And ready to do this!!

I got wheeled up to L&D and was admitted to room 2203 at 11:30am.

A stocky little nurse came in and said to put on the oversized gown that was laying on the end of the freshly covered bed. 

Bottoms off. {Duh.}

I smiled at my Sweet. 

This was really happening. We were going to have another baby!

I nestled into the bed, pulling the blanket up over my mint colored toes.

12:00pm~ A nurse came in and started my IV.

I did pretty good considering I hate IV's. Especially when they are in the hand, or in this case the forearm. Yuck!

12:10pm~ My Nurse Christa introduces herself, and administers Cervadil to help ripen my cervix. I am 4cm.

{4cm?!}

I just went to the doctor yesterday and she said I was 2cm! 

Did I just start induction for no reason?! 

Was my body on it's way to going into labor on it's own?

Not that it matters now, but I probably should have asked my OB to check at my appointment that morning.

Although, I was already set {mentally} on induction, I may have waited to see if something would have happened over the weekend, had I known I was 4cm.

1:05pm~ Oxytocin is started via the IV. 

And while I was having some contractions on my own, they were not uncomfortable, barely noticeable, and basically unproductive.

My Sweet leaves to go get some lunch, and some shoes. Yes. I said shoes.

Whilst packing the bags earlier I forgot to also bring my Sweet some shoes to change into. Which wouldn't have been a problem, but he didn't feel comfortable walking around the hospital in the Snoozie fleece slippers I did pack him, or the wingtip dress shoes he was wearing from being at work earlier... with shorts.

So I surf the Web while he is gone, and even update my Facebook account a little.

The Pit {Oxytocin} is making me start to really feel the forced contractions, so I tell my nurse that I would like to have the Epidural before things get too out of control.

My Sweet returns. And even brought me a Turtle candy for after delivery.

2:40pm~ Epidural is administered. My cervix is 5cm.

I have gotten an epidural every labor. Holding out the longest with my first born.

Every time I get one, I am slumped over a bedside table with pillows and come up in a mess of tears.

This time though, I didn't get a bedside table.

Slumped forward, breathing through contractions, I took that long needle in my back, like a CHAMPION.

I even surprised myself.

2:50pm~ Catheter is inserted. And she breaks my bulging bag of water with her fingers.

It is clear!!

Must have been vernix afterall.

{Another moment, I slightly regretted my decision to be induced.}

Cervix is 7cm.

Whoa!!!

That was FAST!

{We are going to have this baby before dinner!!}

I literally went form 5 to 7cm in a matter of ten minutes!

And, Nash... wasn't happy about it.

3:20pm~ Nash is having major decelerations in his heart rate. He managed to get down to 42 beats per minute at one point! And as a previous Nursing student who went through OB {and loved it}, I knew that was not good. At. All.

{Another moment I was regretting being induced.}

3:25pm~ I am administered Brethane via a Subcutaneous injection in my arm after my nurse decided that my uterus just wasn't letting up after I switched from laying on my left side to my right side. The Oxytocin is stopped. My nurse, and another nurse are now in my room. I am given an Oxygen mask to put over my face. I am starting to feel extremely tired. 

Like it is hard to keep my eyes open, kind of tired.

3:45pm~ My contractions have slowed. But now my Blood Pressure won't stay in a normal range and is dipping into the 66/33 range for the second time in a one minute reading sequence. My Nurse touches my shoulder and asks if I am okay as I lay on my right side with eyes now closed.

I tell her I am really tired.

Duh.

I am about to shut the lights out, of course I am tired.

She tells me my blood pressure is getting low, so they are going to give me some Epinepherine to bring it up.

I am trying to stay calm. Breathing in and out with the oxygen mask on, slow and deep breaths. Concentrating on getting things under control in my mind.

I know that 66/33 is dangerously low.

Like low enough, with the earlier decelerations in Nash's heart rates to have nearly been wheeled into the OR for an emergency C section, low.

3:50pm~ Epinepherine is administered. My blood pressure levels are better. And then, they drop again.

3:55pm~ My Anesthesiologist is back in my room, and is checking the Epidural medicine levels. Decides to slow them.

I am given another bolus of Epinepherine.

I start to recoop from the drop in blood pressure, but still feel very tired.

I am told that when my water was broke it augmented the epidural medicine and that is why I had the sudden drop in blood pressure. They said they usually see complications from an Epidural within ten or twenty minutes of receiving the Epidural, not usually an hour later... 

but all seems to be better. For me, and Nash.

I am left to just relax for a bit.

My Sweet and I are caught up in chatting and laughing about some silly MTV dating disaster show where they set up people on fake dates with obnoxious partners and see how long they can hold out, to win money.

Which is hilarious to me {not the show} because I remember watching the same show when I was laboring with Nadie.

4:45pm~ Oxytocin is restarted.

My Sweet and I are still watching TV, and feel like lazy bums. He is antsy, and feels like he isn't doing anything, and I have been sitting in the same bed for hours now. It is driving me crazy that we are almost at dinnertime {respectively} and still no baby.

5:50pm~ I am starting to feel my contractions again. And remember that they had turned down my Epidural medicine. I am a 3 or 4 {out of 10} on the pain scale at this point.

My day nurse leaves for the day at 6pm, because she had a dinner party that night.

6:00pm~ In comes my new Nurse, Bethanny. She is shorter. Stocky. Has moussed shoulder length curly hair. And a tattoo on her left wrist.

Already I don't like her.

Her smile reminds me of a smirk. Like someone just said something funny outside in the hallway that she wasn't supposed to tell, kind of smirk.

And my Sweet feels the same way.

We just kind of looked at each other.

My intuition tells me I should ask for a new nurse right then. But, I am tired. Ready to just get on with the show. And instead, I bite my tongue.

6:30pm~ My contractions are becoming strong. I can feel them in my belly and my back. Like I am wearing some sort of contraction belt. I power through each one at a 7 or 8 level of pain. I hold on to the bed rails and push my arms straight to lift myself off the bed with each one. My Nurse is alerted to give something for pain.

6:45pm~ A bolus is given through my IV. I am still powering through each contraction by breathing and holding the rails of the bed. My Sweet is at my side telling me to just breathe. My nurse watches at the foot of the bed, as I work through yet anotherv painful cramp.

7:00pm~ My nurse comes in again to see if the bolus has helped.

It hasn't.

I am still at the same pain level. And they are coming every minute and lasting 20-30 seconds at full magnitude before tapering off. Another bolus is given via my IV. I move into a Semi- Fowlers sitting position {the head of the bed is at a 45 degree angle} as opposed to the way I was sitting before {bed broken with feet lowered, sitting up}.

7:25pm~ My Anesthesiologist is back in my room and gives me yet another bolus via my Epidural line. My pain is still the same.

7:45pm~ Finally feeling relief from my contractions. My nurse checks my cervix. I am 9cm!!

All those Pit contractions were worth it!!

I am going to be pushing soon!

Or so I thought.

My nurse informs me I also have a thick anterior lip that still needs to thin out, but asks if I would prefer to have the female or male  on call physician deliver.

I opt for the female, and she goes out of the room.

7:55pm~ I am resting on my back. Feel so tired, but my contractions are not really a problem anymore, so I am relaxed.

8:10pm~ I talk to my Sweet about being uncomfortable. My ribs hurt. Like the muscles between them are strained. I ask him to help me turn on my left side, since my lower half is heavy again with numbness.

8:15pm~ My nurse comes in. Asks if I need anything.

{Nope! Just a baby!!}

I ask her about the anterior lip. 

She said it was thick, and that she wasn't going to check me again yet.

8:20pm~ I am resting on my left. My Sweet is watching some ridiculous videos show on MTV now, and laughing. Asking me randomly if I saw that?

{No. I am not watching. I did not just see that. Mine eyes... are closed. But, I'm not sleeping.}

8:45pm~ I hear my nurse come in. She tears the strip of paper from the machine. 

Asks my Sweet if he needs anything, and then leaves the room.

I open my eyes right after she closes the door, and my Sweet and I joke about her asking him if he needs anything. 

What??

8:50pm~ I move from my left side. I am uncomfortable.

I lay back on my back and can feel Nash high up in my abdomen.

I push down on my belly, so as to push him out of my ribs.

I immediately feel nauseous. 

Throwing up during labor is very normal for me. 

I have done it with all of them.

It is the subconcious way my body deals with extreme pain, epidural or not.

8:54pm~ I ask my Sweet for a vomit pan.

He is by my side rubbing shoulders, as I start spitting.

My mouth is watering like crazy.

I know it's coming.

8:55pm~ And then, it does.

Just come.

I am sitting up slightly, crouched forward.

And, ralphing.

I hate when my Sweet sees me like that. Vulnerable. Helpless. And ralphing... ew.

8:55pm~ I feel a 'pop' down under. And then, another.

8:56pm~ My Sweet pulls the blanket on the bed back, and we see Nash laying on the bed!

Say what {?!!!!} just happened?!

My Sweet runs into the hallway and tells the nurses sitting at the nurse's station, :"The baby is HERE!!!"

Indeed. He was.

8:57pm~ Four nurses come running in my room and grab Nash sans gloves. One clamps the cord, while the other cuts it. My nurse finally arrives and is rubbing Nash dry under the warmer.

All I can do is look at My Sweet who is now a very light color in the face.

The doctor enters and takes over. Drawing blood from the cord so they can send it to lab to have it typed.

I start crying.

Crying because Nash is just fine.

He is a healthy 8 pounds and 6 ounces.

22 inches long.

With Apgars of 9 and 9.

Perfect.

Crying because of what just happened.

{What did just happen?!}

Aside from the obvious, I was in shock.

From the event of how it happened, not from what had just happened.

Crying because... it's finally over.

The long forty week and six days pregnancy was over.

And we now had this beautiful baby boy to snuggle and love.

I am dressed. Made to be comfortable at best, and we are left to drink in our new baby.

We are skin to skin. And he cries softly for just a few more minutes before he is just silent looking through his ointment glazed eyes into mine.

His daddy holds him a while, before getting on the phone to announce his arrival and stats.

9:35pm~ My other littles came up to the hospital to meet their new brother.

It was a lovely little hour that we all shared. 

Meeting and greeting.

Hugging.

Giving kisses.

And then they left to spend the night with their beloved cousins.

My Sweet and I finally got settled into our postpartum room at almost 1am.

I fed my little monkey and tapered off to sleep.

Feeling blessed beyond any sort of measure for yet another healthy delivery.

Oh, poop!

Today's appointment was not exactly what I was hoping for.

Luckily, my Sweet met me there after an early morning appointment, which made having Nadie shriek through my Non Stress Test a little less... stressful.

Anyways.

The ultrasound revealed that my amniotic fluid levels are pretty low.

And there were these black masses or pockets that filled up any empty space that was left.

What's that you say, ultrasound tech?

Oh... poop!

That's right.

My dear boy has already passed meconium.

In the bag.

And was practicing his breathing already. Diaphragm moving in and out.

Our first son, Nolan also passed meconium in the bag, and we had to have the Respiratory team in the delivery room to suction him pretty good. He was grunting and having retractions for a good two hours after delivery.

But thankfully, he did not develop a respiratory infection or pneumonia.

So.

I went to the exam room after all that and waited to see what the Nurse Practitioner thought while they hooked me up to a Non Stress Test machine {which he passed without any decelerations in his heart rate as I had mild contractions}, and because they couldn't get a hold of my OB, they asked the on call doctor to evaluate the ultrasound findings.

I was prepared to call my mom and tell her we would be dropping the littles off in the next couple hours, because we were going to be induced today.

But the on call doctor said, there was little worry in letting me wait until next week.

{whew! I felt slightly better.}

I say next week because my OB only induces on Tuesdays.

I would likely come in Monday night to have some meds administered to soften my cervix, since it was also revealed today that I am still 2cm, and he is still sitting high.

She did not say he was ballotable.

So maybe he is a -2 station or something.

But still pretty firm, and not really dilated.

Regardless.

I am scheduled to see my OB in the morning.

Early.

{I'll let you know how that goes with all three littles! I see donut bribery already in the future.}

 I am looking for a vote of confidence that it is a-okay to wait. 

And if I don't feel it... this momma will be headed to a delivery room tomorrow. 

Eager to finally post the outcome, with a schedule of approximate delivery.

Pray for us.

Especially Nash, given the findings.

I will update as soon as possible.

Hanging on... by a thread

I called this morning to ask about the convenience or probability of scheduling an induction for the same day after my appointment on Friday {since it is early morning}, and I got bumped to an appointment tomorrow instead.

{yeah! I will take it!}

I will be having a complete biophysical profile done via ultrasound to determine most importantly, the amniotic fluid levels, the heart rate during movement, and the blood vessels in the cord.

 

Then, I will be having a post ultrasound check up with yet another Nurse Practitioner since my doctor isn't in on Thursday's.

But, given the results... including whether or not I have dilated past 2cm at this point, we are going to decide a game plan for Friday.

Yes. This Friday.

 {induction? YES.}

I am frustrated.

You can tell I am frustrated.

 

 

I keep trying to get into a mental state where I can imagine myself going into labor, since a lot of times, your mind is the only thing holding you back.

I imagine that I am having contractions, and I have been having contractions actually... since Sunday.

Not so much today though.

They are sporadic. And very much like Braxton Hicks.

They don't last but 30-35 seconds and are spaced a good ten minutes apart or more when they are present.

 

 

 

I have tried doing acupressure points on my hands and feet, as indicated in the {many} you-tube videos I have watched to make sure I am doing it right.

I have been walking up and down the stairs.

Moving furniture. Okay just a sofa table and Nash's dresser. But still.

I have swept the house.

I have been sitting on the floor in an Indian style formation, feet touching... knees out.

We actually had a dance party in the basement yesterday while Nadie napped, because I had seen a post about "dancing the baby out" to start labor.

I have used my husband.

We rode around on a bouncing, bumping boat.

I have eaten spicy food.

I know there are a lot of women out there that would just tell you to wait it out.

Believe me, I have heard them.

 

But let me try and put into words how it feels to be where I am.

A deadline for something such as a birth, is something very exciting to look forward to. 

Kind of like a huge vacation that you have had planned for a year.

You look forward to it.

And as the days get closer, you anticipate how things will go, what you will do, what you will see, ect.

 Then, the day comes when you are supposed to leave for said vacation.

And instead of leaving, your plane is no where to be found. And worse yet, they aren't sure there is going to be a plane to get you there any time soon.

And that you are just going to have to wait.

Meanwhile, all your hopes for this well planned "vacation"... are crumbling.

{realize that I am not actually comparing a birth to a vacation here}

 

But, this is where I am.

Crumbling.

Crumbling into a state of surrender.

Surrender to the fact that I am just one of those women that need that nudge from medical advances {in the form of a liquid medication to induce contractions} to get my labor going.

 

I am less confident every day that passes, that going into labor is something I will experience on my own.

Especially since my contractions won't even happen on more of a pattern yet for a longer period of time.

 

Anyways.

Just wanted to update again.

And will of course put forth the "agenda" after my appointment tomorrow.

 

Until then...

 

 

 

Cold FORTY!

So.

As mentioned, we {the kids and my Sweet!} went to the doctor this afternoon.

I had excitement written all over my face as I paid the last bill upon check in.

We made it!

We were finally at the end.

{Or, so I thought}

Of course there is a BIG bill still to come, but I was more talking about the end of this pregnancy.

 

I was very much looking forward to finally giving my Sweet that call. Even though he was present at the appt today...

The one where I scare him into racing home from work calmly let him know that my contractions are five minutes apart.

 That the bags we have had packed for going on two weeks now, can finally go in the car.

That the kids are finally going to get to see what their brother looks like.

And, if he has dark hair like they did, or red this time like me.

That we can finally bring home our newest bundle and start to transition into a family of six.

That I can wear something other than knit.

 You know... thee end.

But after weigh in, and a check up by my favorite nurse practitioner today... I am feeling no closer to the end, than I did two weeks ago. {sigh}

She was much more personal with me than my OB.

And I really liked that part.

I did not like that she shot my idea of birthing my little horse anytime soon.

She let me in on the fact that I was still 2cm.

And that he was ballotable.

{WHAT?!}

You mean this kid still has room to bounce around?!!!!

{meanwhile, my knit pants and shirts are becoming less forgiving}

Disappointment set in.

The idea of yet another induction hit me like a ton of bricks.

My hopes were sunk.

I no longer had that smile I came into the office with.

Don't get me wrong, there are perks to induction.

1. You can schedule it.

2. You can prepare mentally for it.

3. You have control of PICKING your kids birthday.

4. You can make arrangements for caregivers of the other children.

5. You can start the pit and get an epidural at the same time if you want to.

But, this time around I had my mind set on something different.

Besides going into labor on my own, I wanted Nash to pick his birthday.

{I know. I am weird.}

Lots of things surround the decision to induce this time. Including the aforementioned, my Sweet's birthday is this next Monday.

We could induce on that day.

We have talked about how it would be neat to share the same birthday {as father and son}.

There are a lot of shared birthdays already in our families.

I actually share mine with my brother. Fourteen years apart.

And while none of our other children share theirs with anyone on either side, and my husband has had the entire month to himself until now... I am just not sure if choosing to have the same birthday for them is the right thing to do.

But thankfully, we probably have the whole week to decide.

Anyways.

Here are the latest STATS:

Weeks: 40!!!

 Gender: BOY!!
Position: Head down and NOT engaged.
Dilated: 2cm.
Aversions: Same as they have been...
Cravings: Ice.

 Complaints: Did you read above?
Heartburn: Of course. I even bought MORE Tums the other day when I realized we were going to be overdue.

Weight: 170. Some of the good news I got today was that I at least maintained my weight from last week.

 Gain: 40 pounds.
Name: Nash Ryan

 

Belly pic:

 

 

I am scheduled to see my doctor on Friday of this week.

Induction will be discussed.

And probably scheduled.

It is my mindset in the last days of pregnancy to lean towards what is going to be easiest.

I have been induced three times.

Please pray for me.

Mostly for patience.

But also, that I would do what is good and right.

For our family.

For Nash.

For myself.

Until then...

39 weeks {tick tick tick}

Well, as scheduled, we ventured to our 39th week appointment today.

I was five minutes late checking in.

Hey. It's gonna happen sometimes with three babes in tow, no? 

Even if it has nothing to do with them being the cause of tardiness, I will use it as an excuse every time. 

Today though, this momma {yes me} took her sweet time getting ready to leave the house before I realized I only had ten minutes to get there, and it is easily a fifteen minute drive even if I race all the way there.

Flying over the hills of our country road is not nearly as fun as an almost full term prego.

But.

We made it.

Checked in.

Five minutes after our scheduled arrival.

Then, waited to be seen.

Nadie did pretty good in the office. Not nearly as much crying as usual.

Which helped the twenty or so minutes we sat in the room before my doctor came in.

I explained all that had occurred within the past couple days.

Most important, that I thought he was breech. 

But also that I had intense pelvic pain the other night in bed.

And that I have had a lot of Braxton Hicks contractions.

So without wasting any time, she checked to verify position.

And my cervix.

She smiled at me, snapping her gloves off and throwing them in the trash.

"No question, he is head down."

{Elation!!!}

I can breath a sigh of relief knowing that at least.

And, apparently Braxton Hicks are not indicative of a very near delivery for this momma because I am only dilated to 1.5 {maybe 2} cm per my OB. I was 1cm last Friday...

Which is totally fine.

We wanted a July baby.

Before I left we discussed induction, and how far I wanted to go before they interceded.

I have said from the beginning that I really want to go into labor on my own this time.

 And, I am prepared to go as long as this baby is not too big that I end up in a c section.

My Sweet has a birthday on July 15th, and I joked with him, that Nash was getting close to crashing his party. Which I don't really think is a possibility. As I think I will finally get to experience labor before that.

So for now, I am just letting the tide roll, so to speak. Let things be. As they should.

I am looking forward to this next week, and being at the lake for fireworks, family and fun next weekend...

as a 40 week preggie.

The Stats:

Weeks: 39

 Gender: BOY!!
Position: Head down! With reassurance from my OB that he is "wedged" in there and not expected to flip.
Dilated: 2cm.
Aversions: Same as they have been...
Cravings: Ice. I even told My Sweet the other day, one thing I am looking forward to about labor and being at the hospital, aside from the obvious, is that I can have all the crunchy ice I want! 

It's the little things...
Complaints: Braxton hicks contractions. Just like last week, just more.
Heartburn: Of course.

Weight: 170

 Gain: 40 pounds! Hit my mark. Met my match. Bottomed out. With a week to go.
Name: Nash Ryan. Nolan actually asked if we could change his middle name to Billy today at the doctor. Say what?!

These kids crack me up.

And, no. His middle name will not be Billy.

Belly pic:

Next appointment on Monday, July 8th. Due to holiday scheduling...

Will officially be overdue at that point.

What the flip?!

This is serious.
And by serious, I mean a problem.
And by a problem, I mean a full blown emergency.

I don"t go to the doctor until Friday.
I am just shy of 39 weeks.
{38 weeks 4 days to be exact}

And, I am almost certain that last night while I was up roaming the house at my normal 3am ice check, I felt what was this baby's head in my ribs!!!!

Let me just start out by taking you through my moment of panic as I probed my belly for a size estimate as I laid back down on our bed.
Yep. 
Feels round. 
About the size of my palm. 
It is hard. Not soft like a tushie should feel.


Okay.
Breathe.
 {breathing is becoming rapid now, and I am suddenly very warm}
I go back to smushing my belly here. And pressing there.
Which he does not like.
And is starting to move around a lot.
 

My Sweet sits up in bed and asks if I am okay.
No.
No I am not.
If this baby is now breech, after being head down for months, I am going to flip.


Monday and yesterday both I have had braxton hicks contractions, with some frequency. Not necessarily intense though.

He had been moving like crazy all day Monday.

And moving around a bunch yesterday, but nothing like Monday, when I felt like he was pushing on my sides all day. 

Never even thought to exercise the idea of him turning.

Why would I?

Most babies are readying for delivery at this stage.

You know, planning their exit.

Not doing flips.

And causing extreme anxiety in their momma, over a possible c section in the very near future.

 

So, anyways My Sweet suggests calling the doctor in the morning. 

 

Yes.
Call the doctor.
I got up and called right then actually {which was now almost 3:40am} to see what the hours of operation were for non emergency related questions.
Even though clearly, this was an emergency. Of epic proportion.

I feel sick to my {big} stomach.
Thinking this could even be a possibility.
I mean.
What the flip{?!} is this kid thinking? 

And, although I didn't get up and head to the doctor's office first thing this morning, because I felt like maybe I was being paranoid and because I didn't feel the hard round mass when I was up on my feet...
I really pray that I am wrong.

 

 

But who doesn't know their own body, right?

 

 

Anyways.

Babies can still turn. 

If he had enough room to do it now, he has enough to go back.

 
 I will keep you posted!