To the mama who “ended up” with an epidural

To the mama who “ended up” with an epidural,

You are not a failure. Let me repeat. You. Are. NOT. A. Failure. Stop rolling your eyes, grab a tissue for those tears welling up, and exhale. You are not a failure. Now, I know, I know… you read and read and studied and studied for your labor. You know more about the birthing process than you even knew existed 10 months ago. You and your husband planned and processed and decided. You worked for this, you prepped for this, you ate for this, you exercised for this, and you even took more vitamins, supplements and herbs than you can count for this. You lay awake at night thinking about it. You practiced relaxing and breathing, you took classes, and you knew just what to expect. And yet you still ended up with an epidural.

You’re still not a failure.

I get it. It happened to me too. And for years, literally years, Satan whispered my failures and shortcomings in my ear- and I listened.

I didn’t have what it took.

I wasn’t as strong as those other moms.

I didn’t fight hard enough.

I gave in.

I had disappointed everyone.

I was a wimp.

I couldn’t handle it.

‘She’ was better than me.

I needed to make up for it elsewhere.

I would never be ‘mom’ enough.

I was a failure.

With my first born, I read it all and took the class and had the greatest birth plan… my due date came and went and then, finally, at 2am on a Monday morning, my first contraction. And like I could sleep after that… I crept down to the couch and timed every single contraction… 10 minutes apart… then 9 minutes apart… then 8 minutes apart…. By morning I was walking the neighborhood, dreaming of meeting my little man in a matter of hours… but at 9pm that night, when I went to the hospital and found out I was on 2cm, I literally crumbled. 19 hours of labor to get to a 2??? So we went back home… more labor… more walking… hot showers and cold showers and snacks…. And contraction after contraction…. We went back to the hospital the next night, 43 hours into labor… I was a 4. I kid you not. But this time, I wouldn’t leave the hospital. I walked around, I went up and down the steps in the lobby, pausing every 2-3 minutes for a brutal contraction. I finally made it to a 5 and so the nurses filled up the pool so I could have a water birth. But let me tell you what I hate- laboring in water. So back out of the tub I came, after 50 hours of labor, with no end in sight, and I started sobbing… “I’m so sorry” I said to my husband and my midwife, “I can’t do it.” I cried like there was no tomorrow. I finally “caved” and “ended up” with an epidural. 5 short hours later, after a good nap, my little man came into the world. 55 hours from start to finish and I was exhausted, but my Max was in my arms.

With baby #2, my water broke at 35 weeks to the day, only God knows why, so not only did I “end up” with an epidural but also a big dose of pitocin… you know the drug I had vowed “never” to get… And my sweet Jack, all 5lbs of him, was in my arms before the day was over.

With baby #3, my water broke around 9:30pm, and my midwife was at my house by about 10:30pm for a homebirth. It was only a matter of an hour or two before those contraction were radiating through my body every few minutes. I walked and swayed, I was in and out of the shower, I worked and labored and threw up and whimpered, and then I met my 3^rd little man, Sam my sunshine… 16 hours later. So much for a “quick” labor your 3^rd time around. It was my ­first unmedicated birth. 3rd times the charm, I guess?!

All three of those babies made me a mama… one no more than another. All three of those babies took perseverance, wise choices, hard work, and lots of heart. Little did I know, labor was only the beginning of that process. 

So, you “ended up” with an epidural. You are not a failure… you’re a mama. You worked and labored for what you thought was best for your child, and in the end you had to go a different route… you are a mama. You fought until you couldn’t breathe, literally, you are a mama. You had to change the course, veer from the original plan even when you didn’t want to… you are a mama. It was grueling, arduous, sometimes crippling, full of love and devotion… you are a mama.

Motherhood is unknown and hard and ever-changing. It is never what you plan for, more unexpected than you care to recount, and a lot of work. It takes your breath away, knocks you to your knees, makes you weep, and does things to your insides that you didn’t know was possible. It’s the very best thing you’ve ever done… and you got a crash course during labor. You are a mama. As I sit here with baby #4 wiggling around in my belly, can I just say, “Welcome to the best club, ever!” You’ll never be the same, nor will you ever want to be. No, you are not a failure, YOU ARE A MAMA!

2 months already!

We need to freeze this baby right where he is! I've said this with all my babies, but Sam's first few months are flying even faster than the others! And I wanted them to slow down, so he needs to just freeze altogether for like a year. Seriously, I'd like him to be just like he is for another year or two. Anybody know anything about making that possible?

Sam is such an easy baby, filled with smiles and coos- he loves being held and cuddled but will sit just fine in his swing or bouncy seat when I need my hands. He's a great napper- even if the naps are on the go- and an even better night time sleeper-- we're talking at least 9-10 hours at night without eating, whaaaa??!! He sleeps swaddled tightly in his Momsoncall.com swaddle blanket and he also sleeps on his side most of the time, in a positioner. He really wanted to sleep on his tummy, but I'm too much of a rule follower/ worrier for that, so I opted for the "middle" which was side sleeping. I really do have a lot of fear around SIDS but I know it's not something I can control- I just have to do what I decide is best for my baby and trust the LORD. I know it it my head, it's just easier said than done! Anyway, he is starting to sleep on his back more, but before I know it, it will be time to break the swaddle and he'll probably find a way to end up on his tummy anyway, ha! He also sleeps with a sound machine, as all the boys still do, which is primarily so they will keep sleeping despite house noises and brother noises... which are at a high in these parts all the time! And he is my most hot-natured child to date and sleeps with his fan going and his room really chilly. It makes me happy too... wonder where he got that? :)

Sam's hair is always a conversation starter... mainly because he has so much of it and it's stark white AND it tends to stick straight up or out, depending on the day! If we let it get dirty enough, it will lay down, or if Jack gives him enough sloppy kisses then that seems to do the trick too. But I do love running my hand over his head and smelling him and just altogether nuzzling his head, so I can't say I blame Jack :) Jack is still the most affectionate with the baby, always wanting to see him and "hold it" and "Kiss" "one more" etc.... and this is multiple times a day and has not let up since birth! Max is great with the baby, very helpful and loves to be "put in charge" while I run to do something. He always tells me that he will take care of Sam and then he's quick to bring him his paci or find it in the swing if it's popped out. Gabe isn't all over the baby like the other two, but when no one's paying attention, he chats with the baby and is on paci brigade in the car. Really, Gabe has no tolerance for the baby crying so always wants to jump out of his seatbelt to fix the problem, but I won't let him unless we're stopped which is hard on him! But again, there is not an inhabitant in this house that doesn't ohh and ahhh over the baby- he's quite popular in these parts!

Sam's typical schedule starts around 7am when he eats, and then goes straight back to bed. Then he eats at 9am, noon, 3p, 6p, and 9p each day. About an hour after each feeding, he heads for a 2 hour nap, except for the 6p feeding, when I don't let him nap, although he'd like to! He may doze in our arms or in his swing, but no more than 20 minutes before I move his position just because I don't want it to get to a deep sleep. He gets a bath around 8:30 every night and then some cuddles and whispers from me or Chad until his last feeding. He is such a doll baby that just typing this makes me excited for bed time tonight- ah, love him! I am trying to move his bedtime up a little bit, without dropping any feedings because he still needs to eat 6 times a day, but I haven't figured out the best way to do that yet-- especially because we're all so used to these feed times, it makes it easy. It's hard to mess with something that's working so well!

Sam is slowly but surely outgrowing all his newborn clothes too! I really need to pack up a bin and get out the next, but I'm delaying as much as possible- I just need this baby to stop growing. On his 2 month day, we went to his pediatrician for his well check. He was perfect and they oogled him as expected :) Unfortunately, when you are well, that also means you get shots- boo. I have yet to do the vaccines the same way for any of the boys, but won't get into all that! Basically- I just do what I have decided is best at the time, for each of them. I am all in favor of vaccines, I just spread them out a little here and there and opt to wait until later on a few, etc... and we have a great doctor who talks through it all with me and helps me arrive at my decision. Here are Sam's stats from the visit:

Height: 22 3/4 (almost 75th percentile)
Weight: 11 lbs 3oz (50th percentile)
Head: 40cm (50th percentile and our smallest head to date in the family!)

Compared to Jack who was 10 lbs and 12oz and 21.7 inches at his 2 month appointment, and Max who was 11 lbs 15oz and 22.75 inches long. Jack is our little guy, but he was also 5 weeks early and had actually doubled his birth weight by 2 months!

Oh our dear Sam- we love you like crazy and the addition that you are to our family is perfection! You have melted me in way I didn't know was possible and I thought your brothers had already taking care of this completely. I love how my heart always has enough room to love a whole new person completely and crazily! I love talking with you and how my face makes you smile always- I wish I could clone you and pass you around to anyone having a bad day, you would cheer them up instantly! I'm so grateful that God gave me you- you are a gift! I love you more than you'll ever know, and that's true of your Daddy too! But what's even truer and bigger and perfect is God's love for you- I can't wait to tell you all about as you grow! Happy 2 months my baby Sam!

Celebration

So last night, I had bible study at my girlfriend's house and I hurried out afterwards to get the baby home, bathed, fed and in bed. His last feeding is typically at 9, but I adjust on Mondays to make it around 9:30 so that I can take him to bible study with me. Chad has never done bed time with this little booger and really just doesn't know much about his routine so I can't leave him yet- and just know that this is not a complaint-- Chad knew the other two inside and out and even kept Max at home one day a week starting at his 6 wk mark- it's just that this baby is so sweet that I just love every single feeding, and so appreciate being home with him and not going back to work that I don't want him to do bottle- so really it's selfish :) Also, Chad isn't up to speed on the Moms on Call methods that I've used with this little guy- honestly, he doesn't EVER read those kind of parenting books or put much thought into it- I just tell him what I've read and what I've decided and ask for input when needed and he's A-ok with that... I think this is called being a man :)

Anyway, so back to last night- we did the routine a little later than normal, and then as I was swaddling him around 10pm and whispering my normal "I love you, baby-- see you soon" I decided to add "actually, I'll see you in the morning, ok?" And I did a soft little laugh and laid him in his bed. He always snuggles in for about 3 minutes and this fusses until I come back and give him his paci again, and then he's out. He never has to be picked up again or rocked or any of that (see, easiest baby ever!) and that's exactly what happened last night. Afterwards, I finished some laundry, did my bedtime routine, and we crawled into our own bed around 11-- honestly, that's really late for me- I go to bed at 10p usually and Chad goes to bed at the same time about 3-4 nights a week... mainly if the Spurs aren't playing (Thank you Jesus that basketball is over!) or some other tv program doesn't have a hold on him.

Next thing I know, I wake up and it's around 5:30am and there is no sounds from the baby. I search my brain trying to remember if I fed him and just forgot?? But "the girls" let me know that I have definitely not fed him in a very long time. (TMI?!?!) So I stare at the monitor and see this:

So I pray and ask God to please make him move or make a noise so I know he's ok AND He does! So I set the monitor down, and I praise God and go back to sleep for another hour... still nothing from the baby! At this point, "the girls" are ready to explode so I start making little noises so Sam will wake up and finally he does around 6:40. 6:40 people! He's 7 weeks old! This is a modern day miracle because I've NEVER had a baby sleep through the night before 9 months and that takes many nights of going in the room repetitively to shush without feeding to "teach" them that they can indeed go 8 hours without me-- I refer to this a Bowman Baby Bootcamp. Hate it. And apparently I'm not going to have to do it this go around. Oh what an angel baby!

So after I fed the baby, I went and made coffee and did my bible study alone. Alone! Did you read that? ALONE! Whhaaaa???? It seriously was a gift from God- I haven't slept through the night since I got pregnant with Sam and I feel like a new woman!

In other news, after all that, I went back to my room and Chad was still in bed sending texts and emails for the day. Jack came in batting a balloon around and saying the phrase Chad seriously hears 10000 times a day "Watch, Daddy, watch!" and of course we were watching and giggling at how cute he was and how hard he was working when all of a sudden Jack screams "gum!" and bends down and picks up something from the carpet and eats it. In our house, gum is mentos, and I was sure that there weren't any mentos in our room- I generally pass those out in the car to quiet chaos or keep people awake- and so I jumped up to see what Jack had put in his mouth. It was a bug. Jack ate a bug this morning. So it's not all sunshine and lollipops around here- I don't want you to get the wrong message. Our babies may sleep through the night but our toddlers also eat bugs.

And in case you forgot, today is my day :) Thank you baby Sam, and thank you Jesus!

Happy 1 Month Baby Sam

I can't believe our sweet baby Sam is already a month old! He's been a precious angel since day 1. I keep waiting for vampire baby, up all night baby, scream through dinner baby, but nope, just perfect baby! If he gets "fussy" it's this level of fussy that can barely even qualify and it's easily fixed with a few minutes in mommy's arms. He is rarely needed and he's a great sleeper. And when it's awake time, those baby blues are so precious that I just want to kiss his cheeks incessantly! His skin is oh so soft and we're working hard to fatten the lil man up! He was born at 7lbs 1oz, and dropped to 6 lbs 15oz. At his 2 week check up, he was 8lbs 8oz and that's when they just want you back to your birth weight! And then at 3 weeks, when we were at the ENT for the tongue/ lip tie clipping, he was already 9lbs 2 oz!! And one week later, I can't even imagine, because he looks so much fuller... just like mama ordered :)

Sam eats aroudn 7am, 9am, 12p, 3p, 6p, and 9p, and then we usually don't hear from him until around 3am- perfection. After his 7am feeding, he wants to go straight back to sleep, but after the others, he'll stay up and look around and smile at us and I just eat him up. Jack and Max are especially smitten with him, and comes around for all the awake times, supplying lots of kisses and pointing out things about him. And although Gabe isn't usually drooling all over him during the day, he loves showing him off when we're out and about and is quick to spout off all his stats-- he knows his exact age, how big he is, and anything anyone wants to ask. This baby is ADORED... and that's putting it lightly!

After the other boys go to bed, Sam usually gets about 30 minutes on the floor with Daddy- they discuss their day and solve the world's problems while I run around and pick up and hop in the shower. His hair is still a hit to all those we meet- and after every bath, it stands straight out like a new fluffy puppy. He doesn't mind his baths, he'll do a nice stint in the swing, usually around dinner prep, he's a great car rider, loves his momsoncall.com swaddle and schedule, and prefers to be on his tummy... which is hard for his rule follower of a mom!

And in his first month of life, Sam has already been to the pool a couple times... he slept right through it! He's taken several trips to the park... he slept right through that too. And he even had his first overnight across town with mommy. We had the hotel room to ourselves, and a weekend with the girls to hear Beth Moore and "get a word"-- it was awesome- and he slept right through that too!

This is how much stuff it takes for me and Sam to go across town for one night....

Isn't he cute sleeping in a hotel... and not waking up extra because he's in a weird place... good baby!

Plus, I got a whole weekend with just holding him and cuddling him- I enjoyed having one baby for 24 hours although we missed the others by the time we got back home! And then, Sam also went to his first Braves game this weekend, when they squeaked out another win in the 10th inning- he's a fan!

Check out the play by play...

Sam's Birthday:

1 Week Old:

2 Weeks Old:

3 Weeks Old:

4 Weeks Old:

1 Month Old:

Baby Sam, you're the perfect addition to our family! We love you more than words allow and are so thankful that God saw it fit to bless our family with you-- couldn't ask for anything more!

Baby Sam's Birth Story... Part 2

On May 2nd, at 10:15pm, all the boys were tucked in for the night, I'd had a nice warm shower and was sitting in the rocking chair in my room with the heating pad on my back catching up on Grey's Anatomy. Chad was in the living room just getting started on an estimate when I felt like I peed on myself... this 3rd pregnancy had done some crazy things to me, but peeing on myself wasn't one of them. So I stood up and hurried to the bathroom and realized my water had broken. I yelled for Chad and he came in excited... it was go time! I was a little over 39 weeks, and earlier that day, my midwife had left after my weekly check up with the departing words "I'll be hearing from you very soon." I didn't believe her, because I thought the baby was coming in mid-April, and by this point, I was convinced I would be the first woman in the history of ever to remain pregnant forever. And I wasn't taking it well.

But despite my sour attitude, Margaret was right... I called her with the news, and then we had to call the grandparents. Chad's parents had their motorhome parked on Lake Allatoona just a bit up the road, and they came to get Gabe, and my parents came to get Max and Jack. All the boys were a little surprised to be awakened after being put to bed, but nobody cried and freaked... except me! I was so emotional to send all the boys off, knowing that the next time I saw them, I would be holding their new sibling. I was a hot mess- but in a good, excited way.

I had also decided to have 2 special friends at my birth-- Anna, my friend from college who has no sisters had asked way before I was pregnant to be in on my next birth... people with no sisters have to stick together so I said sure... neither of us knowing what I'd be getting us into with a home birth! And then I asked my friend Lisa who has had both of her babies naturally, and is known for her encouraging spirit to be a part of it as well. She knows all about relaxation and breathing during labor- and she should seriously become a doula someday once her own babies are a little bigger. Also, Anna and Lisa are such prayer warriors in my life- when something is going on, they pray. So they're just who I wanted there supporting me. So I texted them to let them know that my water had broken and that we'd be in touch once it was getting close to the actual birth. Honestly, I thought this would be early morning-ish- but no one really knew how things would progress.

While we waited for grandparents to come claim the boys, Chad and I ran around taking care of all sorts of last minute things-- I had asked Chad to mop the kitchen floor when I went into labor (not sure why this was a big deal, but it was, ha!) We stripped our bed and got the sheets in the wash so we'd have fresh, clean linens after the birth, and I cleaned bathrooms and picked up and straightened everything. After all the hustle and bustle, and sending the boys off, I was having full fledged contractions. They were 10 minutes apart, but they had a bite and I had to stop and breathe through them. About this time, my midwife also arrived. We of course knew that it would be a while before the baby arrived, but she preferred to come on and check the heartbeat, make sure the baby was tolerating contractions well and set up camp. Once all this preliminary stuff was done, she encouraged us to try to rest. We did tried... Chad succeeded for about 2 hours but I was so anxious, plus, hello, the contractions. I ended up getting in the shower for a while, hoping that it would even make me sleepy, but it didn't really work. Around 2am, Margaret checked me, and I was only 3cm and 65% effaced- which was basically what I was before I went into labor. The only good news was how low and engaged the head was. To say I was annoyed is putting it lightly- it reminded me too much of my labor with Max, long and hard with little to no progress... I wasn't impressed. Margaret instructed me to walk around, sit backwards on chairs, climb up and down the stairs, squat during contractions, etc... all to put pressure on my cervix. She explained that if I could just get to 100% effaced that the rest would go quickly. So I did just that. I moved about for a while, but with each contraction, the intensity got a little greater and I began to swell. Apparently this is normal- it's fluid retention and actual muscle swellage due to contacting. I seriously began and ended labor at 2 completely different sizes.

Around 4am, I managed to fall asleep for about 20 minutes and Chad went back to bed for a while. Margaret was insistent that he rest well, because he would be my "nurse" after the birth. And honestly, especially at this stage of the game, there wasn't really anything anyone could do-- that contractions were constant and hard- about 4-5 minutes apart, but they were still manageable with breathing and relaxing, all on my own. By early to mid-morning, I was sitting at the table having oatmeal and just chatting with Margaret. I was asking her all sorts of questions about her life and her relationship with the Lord because even not in labor, I love hearing that stuff, but in this situation, it kept my mind off the ebbs and flows of contractions that kept coming at me every few minutes. During this conversation, they began to get an extra "bite" as Margaret put it. Apparently she could just tell by watching and how I worked through them. Around 8am, I went for another shower- I loved the shower because it relaxed my muscles and the change of scenery often game me a quick break. But towards the end of that shower, something changed and this big wave of contractions came upon me one after another-- I felt myself lose control- like I was no longer managing the contractions and working through them. I came out crying and told Chad I needed Lisa here, stat. At 8:36am he sent her a text that said "head over please". Once I got dried off and dressed, Margaret checked me again and I was 5cm and 100% effaced- we all knew that this meant game on- especially in light of my other labors, during which hitting 5 seemed to make my body go into top speed and spit out a baby quickly.

Within a few minutes, Lisa was there working through each contraction with me, and then Anna arrived, armed with scriptures and prayers, and then Margaret called Jenny, who is another midwife who does home births. They work together and assist each other-- on Margaret's births, Jenny acts almost like a "nurse" assisting and taking care of everything. They are both wonderful and work so well together- it's like a well-oiled machine. It was amazing to me how quickly 11pm to 11am had flown by- I literally had no concept of time and couldn't believe we were already so far into a new day and couldn't understand how I already needed more food (according to Margaret- I was by no means hungry). But that feeling was about to change drastically.

By 11am, my contractions were a minute apart and literally took over my whole body. They would start in my back and come around, squeezing and burning like fire. But I had the added bonus of contractions that started in my hips and went down to my knees, literally causing my quads to swell and clench. Let's just say, I'd prefer to squat 100lbs all day long to that torture. Just a few days before going into labor, my friend Danielle asked if I'd ever had contractions in my legs and I literally looked at her like she was crazy. I take it back, D, I take it back! Those leg contractions are flat out horrifying. At this point, I would work through a couple contractions well and then lose it and require Chad, Lisa, and/ or Anna to talk me back to sanity and control. This kept going for what seemed like 100000 years. I kept asking "didn't I just have a contraction" and "isn't this part over yet?" During this stage, I got nauseous several times and would dry heave several times between contractions. Chad and my ladies would put cold clothes on my neck and face that felt heavenly, but as soon as the next contraction came, I would through them away like a child throwing a temper tantrum, because anything "extra" on me felt like the weight of the world. Chad and Lisa both tried to put pressure on my back and squeeze my hips, like labor books teach you, and I would yank away-- during my first labor, I loved that pressure, but not this time. I literally didn't like anything touching me. I also changed positions frequently-- I'd have a few contractions standing up and swaying and then have some leaning over onto the bed or bathroom counter. Then I switch to the birthing stool, then on my hands and knees, and then the toilet. There was no rhyme or reason- I just kept changing, hoping for relieve I guess. I did ask Margaret where the pause button was and she informed me that they had yet to find it... bummer.

Everyone knew at this point that we were close- and we all knew that I was transitioning, which is hell on earth. What we didn't know was how long it would last. "Most" people transition within a couple minutes to an hour-- especially on 3rd babies. I am NOT most people. I hung out in hell for what seemed like an eternity. And this is when I lost it. I would say "I'm done I'm done" and "I can't do it" and "God, please get this baby out"-- this caused Chad to panic-- especially when I told him I was going to die... something about raising all these little kids alone wasn't working for him! But by "I'm done" I didn't mean that I wanted to head to the hospital or anything like that- that thought seriously never entered my mind-- instead I mean someone get me out of this body-- I wanted to run away from myself! When I think back to where I was in these moments, there honestly wasn't much space in my  brain to process much, but the main thing I felt and needed was to be done-- I needed and pleaded for it be over. For some reason, during birth, I'm 3 for 3 in NOT experiencing that anger you hear about-- shouting at people, blaming my husband, screaming horrid things-- I just don't have that emotion in labor, but this time, I did experience feeling like I couldn't do it- like I didn't have it in me to finish what I had started. Somehow I must've communicated that fear, because I remember Chad whispering "well there's not really anything you can do about that." All my people were so encouraging- I remember Lisa saying over and over "but you ARE doing it, you are!" Everyone knew the baby was almost here- everyone but me.

Finally, a little before 1pm, Margaret talked me onto the bed to check me again- she informed me that baby was all the way down and that I was 9.5 cm-- I just needed that last lip to dilate. I stayed on the bed, kind of on my back and kind of sitting up- this was pure torture- I hated this position throughout the entire labor, it just never worked well for my contractions- but at this point, they were just one after another and I literally couldn't move to another position. Margaret tried to push the lip over the baby's head and that so did NOT work. Holy horrible pain batman! And then all of a sudden the lip was gone and I got more than 2 seconds before the next contraction... that could only mean one thing... time to push!

My first few attempts to push were lame- I knew I wasn't making progress and I just wasn't doing it right-  I kept saying so and they kept encouraging me, but I just knew it wasn't working. But of course in the midst of contractions and pushing a baby out, there wasn't really time for me to delve into what I was trying to say. But someone got it, because all of a sudden Margaret put a warm washcloth against me and said to push towards that-- and within 2-3 pushes the baby's head was coming out.... a baby's head and it's hand because apparently this little baby was a thumb sucker and decided to enter the world with it's hand in it's mouth. This brought new meaning to the "ring of fire." If that phrase is foreign to you, then only look it up if you dare. It may scar you. Because you body has to stretch at this point, my midwife was holding the baby in, while my body was literally thrusting me up to a sitting position trying to get the baby out. At this point, I thought my eyes would bug out of my head and that my body was literally ripping in half. I happy to report that it did not, and at this moment, Jenny, the other midwife, made eye contact with me and did these teeny hyper-ventilating breaths that she had me copy that would basically allow me to live through those next 30 seconds. And then a push and the head was all the way out and another and.... IT'S A BOY!!!!

And I just gushed with pride and joy. It was all over, my body was at complete peace, and I had felt every ounce of my son's birth. There was nothing like it. There are no words to explain what it felt like to have that baby placed on my chest. It was love- so much love- and just like that every single bit of it was absolutely worth it. Upon arrival, my sweet baby Sam was perfect. He arrived at 1:31pm, weighing in at 7lbs 1oz and 21inches long. And he had hair, so much bright blonde hair. And all of a sudden, my only care in the world was soaking him in.

My birth story didn't go exactly how I thought it would-- it was much longer. And I didn't expect it to be that intense for that long- although don't hear me say that I thought it was going to be a breeze or anything. But there is not one bit of it I would change. God set up that labor and those midwives and my friends and my husband for such a time as that-- I felt so loved and encouraged-- I felt so supported and I had done it. I came full circle that labor- starting our with joy and excitement, entering into empowered and all "I am woman, hear me roar" which slid right into broken and overcome, only to experience a birth- my baby's birth- as I had never done before and I found myself right back at the beginning-- basking in more joy and excitement than I had ever felt. And I'm still not over it.

The Ugly Cry

Oh my did I ever just cry the ugly cry! The little boys are in bed napping, Gabe is working on some school stuff and I'm sitting on my bed with my feet up for a few minutes as my midwife, among other people, have ordered. I usually read my bible study notes or blogs or Facebook until my eyes get really heavy and then I take a deep snooze. It only lasts about 20 minutes before some thought in my brains springs my whole body back to life, but it's the kind of snooze that is so deep and so needed, as a big ole pregnant lady, that I drool and often wake with heart burn, even though I'm not even in a real napping position.

But today is different. Mainly because I stumbled upon this blog post- http://www.stevewiens.com/2013/03/06/these-are-the-lines-of-a-story/
Read it. Cry with me. Because we all know it's true and we all want to feel that truth, if even only for a second.

In my current state- 35+ weeks pregnant with my 3rd baby in as many years, I can assure you I'm at one of the lowest points when it comes to my body-- I hate this part of pregnancy where everything seems to swell over night-- like all of a sudden my face is more round this morning and the extra pounds around my middle are starting to cause my legs to squish like elephant legs... it's not pretty. And I know there are some people that think the pregnant body is absolutely beautiful- I'm just not one of them... mainly since I became the pregnant one.

I used to dream about being pregnant and seriously stare and study pregnant women... this was a good 10 years ago when everything on my body was where it was supposed to be, and probably really tanned as well. You know, important stuff. Not. But at that age, when I saw pregnant women, fully clothes obviously, a quiet peace came over me- for they were charged with growing a human- inside of them. I couldn't think of anything better. Their round belly made me crave it for myself- and I never once saw a chubby face, swollen feet, or stretch marks. I just saw the beautiful woman with child. But now that it's me and it's been me, I see it all much differently. Growing children- beautiful, wonderful children I might add- is really hard on the self-esteem.

I wish I could just see them as my prize- my boys and my bun in the oven- and sometimes I do- but sometimes a backwards glance in the mirror as I climb into the shower or some extra time spent gazing at Easter pictures of myself from yesterday, and I just crumble. Oh the bumps and lumps and bigness. Please tell me the mirror and the camera is lying. But I know it's not.

But reading that article, all I could think about, in light of my own boys, is what good it would do for my heart and for them and their future to give them the power to see it as a good thing. Isn't that when your heart usually follows? What if Max knew from his toddler years that growing a baby was very hard for the mommy and really changed her body BUT that he had to power with his words to encourage and love her. Wouldn't his future wife just love that? What if Jack thought all the changes brought about by pregnancy was beautiful- like so much more beautiful than a taunt body, because it's the aftermath of growing people-- God's people! Don't you think he'd look at women differently if he got this and believed it? Gabe is older, but I think that means I can be more blunt in my teaching with him-- and his heart is so soft, I think he won't forget it this side of heaven. And then, how might it change me if I start speaking this truth to them? Will I be more likely to appreciate this gift of child bearing? Will I see my marks as trophies? I hope so. For I know this gift of motherhood is by far one of the greatest gifts on this earth. I wouldn't change it for anything.

Tips From A (very) Pregnant Mom

You've all heard that the pregnant lady doesn't really appreciate being touched by strangers. It's true- she doesn't. It's weird and awkward, mainly because the belly is still attached to the body- something you wouldn't normally touch. 

But let's be honest, I don't know if it's because of word of mouth or if it's because people started thinking, but this doesn't really happen that often. It's usually someone you know and they usually ask first, and if you're a mom already, you're used to little hands all over you, so what's a little ohh and ahhh and pat on the belly from someone you know? 

Not a big deal.

But what is a big deal are the questions I get asked regularly this go around... at first I laughed, because who would really say these things in public to strangers? And now it's happened so many times, it's all I can do to keep my hormonal, smart mouthed self from saying things that would scar us all for a long time. So here's a list of things you should NOT say to a pregnant lady...

Obviously, I have 3 boys in tow with me 90% of the time. They're blond and really cute and they're all boys, I know.  And then at least once a week, if not more, I add another Spiva boy or two to my crew. I like it that way. I doesn't stress me out and the "chaos" that you see doesn't even make a blip on my radar. I prefer to keep them buckled in and wrangled in some way or another at all times, but I do totally understand that the noise alone can cause outsiders to peek... and then stare and gawk as they count 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 boys... and she's pregnant. But regardless of how many children a pregnant lady appears to have the following is not acceptable:

1) "You do know how that happens, right?"

.... umm yes, I do, as does my husband. All of these boys have been planned down to the exact month they were conceived and we're overwhelmed by the blessing of being their parents.

2) "You hope that one is a girl, right?" (while pointing to my belly)

... not as much as you do! Being a boy mom is super fun, and if we were insistent on a girl, we would've gotten a puppy, which you can pick... but instead we've left it up to the Creator of the Universe. Ruffles and bows will be super fun, but so will raising 4 boys.

3) Upon being told that we're not finding out the gender "but don't you need to prepare yourself if it's another boy?"

... actually no, we're all stocked up on the boy stuff, it's the girl that will really throw us off!

4) "What will you do if it's a boy?"

... be thrilled to death, just like we will if it's a girl

Now you're probably having a hard time believing that strangers are saying these things to me, but they are-- I've heard them ALL more than once!!  And I know that some people think they're funny- but really it's not funny. It's my real life and I really love it. 

Feel free to add to the list if you've got more... maybe this list can help protect unsuspecting strangers from getting pummeled by a nice sweet pregnant lady!

A Little Pre-term Scare

This happened way back at the beginning of the year on January 22nd,  but I most certainly do want to remember these details so that someday I can tell our little nugget what I went through on his/ her account.... isn't that what mother's are supposed to do?

It was late January, and it was finally my turn to take dinner to our friends Brian and Wendy after they brought home sweet baby Joni. I had been looking forward to the excuse to see the baby again and Max was dying to see her-- he loves babies, for real, I'm not just saying that, and when we get a new announcement in the mail, he'll carry it around with him and ask me endless questions about the baby. We had planned all day to head their direction after naps, and Max would get to go in a peek at the baby. I got the car loaded with boys and food and ran in the potty once more before the 20 minute trek down the road... hey, I'm pregnant, remember?

We get about half way there and all of a sudden I HAVE to go again-- like not sure I can make it to their house. I even contemplate pulling into a gas station, but decide against unloading the boys, and letting them run their hands along only-God-knows what germs. With a little self talk, I make it to Wendy's, run to the door with the food and run into the bathroom. And I barely went. Like barely. AND right then I knew it-- I had a UTI. This wasn't my first UTI rodeo... somehow the stress and bad eating around finals time always caused me to them in college, and I got another when we first got married. Now granted, that had been almost 5 years ago, but this is something you don't forget.

I briefly talked with Wendy and then ran back out to my car where my boys were still buckled in-- and I proceed to crush Max's dreams of seeing the baby. I said something about the baby sleeping and next time, and left him in a heap of tears, but I knew that time was ticking to get to a clinic and get some meds before it would be a night of hell. I looked up the nearest minute clinic on my phone, learning that it was just minutes away and that we still had an hour and a half before closing and I sighed with relief. I pointed the minivan (megafun) in the direction of the clinic and called Chad who was on his way home to let him know what was happening. He was coming from the opposite direction of me and he had Gabe with him, so I talked them through putting the rest of dinner together and said we'd be home shortly.

Lie.

When I got to CVS, they were all out of appointments for the day. I moaned aloud in agony, not sure what to do next. Over the course of the 12 mile drive back to my house, I literally had to stop at 5 public restrooms, unload my boys and carry them in, sit on the pot and NOT pee, while  have weird bladder contractions, and yet still managing to feel better, at least for the next 4 minutes- which allowed me to get the boys back in the car, get 2 miles further down the road, and do it all again. And there was nothing anyone could do to help me. I called my friend Anna, asking for advice. And then I called my midwife who mentioned that this could get hairy pretty quick when pregnant and that it was necessary to get to an urgent care or ER right away. Really? Who wants to do all that when you dying in pain and just need an antibiotic. I could feel myself losing my cool more and more by every second... the pain was too much, the lugging of boys and the public restrooms, the constant stopping, and the hour is took me to go 12 miles was quite possibly pushing me into the looney bin. It was all I could do to stay calm and kind to my kids and the people I was talking to on the phone. By the time I got home, I literally ran in the house, leaving the boys in the car for Chad to come rescue.

I just went and sat on the potty and cried and moaned for a bit. Then I gathered what was left of my sanity and proceeded to get in touch with the Obstetrician at my office, hoping that she could just call in an antibiotic to get me through the night. But no... because they have to know what strain it is to know what antibiotic is necessary to treat it and if they start an antibiotic that isn't the right one, it still has the ability to mask the infection and therefore let it get worse and cause major damage before you know that it's even happening. Joy.

Did I mention that we were just days from moving at this point? And so Chad had to make a run to pick up a dresser I had bought and due to a couple unforeseen conflicts, it had been rescheduled several times, so I was insistent that he go. But of course he was already gone by the time I got word that I had to drive 40 minutes to the only urgent care clinic that was open in our area... that would be closing in an hour. So Anna had to rush over to sit with our boys, so that I could leave immediately and hopefully get there in time. I backed out of the driveway as she pulled in. That's what friends are for!

The drive to urgent care was ridiculous... I had my mom on the phone with me the whole way to keep me calm and talk me off the cliff.. and also to distract me... and probably to make sure I got their safely too. I stopped multiple times for bathrooms along the way, of course, but this time with no boys, making the trips quicker thank goodness! I was literally racing the clock to try and get their before they locked their doors. At one point, the gas station attendant, a lady, asked me to watch the store so she could go to the bathroom herself. I just felt like my patience and stamina were being tried in a way they never had before.

I finally made it to urgent care, got everything filled out, and got called back pretty quick-- what a blessing. But that's when things took a turn for the worst-- I had to leave a urine sample which tested positive for some pretty serious things, and by then there was bleeding and contractions as well. I was only 25 weeks pregnant at the time and literally, felt myself losing it as all this unfolded. The urgent care doc wanted me to get checked there, my midwife was saying no way, Chad was at home with the boys telling me to listen to my midwife and I was sitting in this little clinic room all alone crying. And then within 4 minutes, I was being sent to triage in Labor and Delivery. Without my husband. Or any support for that matter. I managed to walk myself to my car before losing it. I told Chad what was happening, and then I called my midwife and told her I was being sent to the hospital and she was elated. Apparently she was hoping that would happen because she thought it appeared to be more serious than I knew at the time. So I'm driving and crying and she just starts praying over me and the situation. (More to follow on my midwife, but dang, she's awesome). Then I called my mom to see if she could come meet me since Chad couldn't leave the boys. And then I texted a couple girlfriends asking for prayers.

After a potty stop, a quick pick up of an RX en route, and a brief stop to gain control over the tears, I managed to arrive at the hospital about 7 minutes before my mom got there. I got all checked in and was being taken to my room when she walked off the elevator. When I first got their, the nurses didn't seem too worried and just went about protocol, but something happened at some point, no one really ever told me what they found that escalated things, but all of a sudden, I was multiple bands around my belly, and IV in my arm, fluids in another bag, and this huge cup that I was told to drain every 10 minutes. Which let's pause for a second to point out the obvious-- I was already making crazy repetitive bathroom stops and then they start pumping all this into my system and I could barely sit in the bed for 2 minutes before having to unhook everything and go AGAIN. But my contractions were kicking across the screen, which at 25 weeks is the exact opposite of what should be happening, and I was told it would either be completely better in 30 minutes, or it would be bad and they would have to begin to stop labor.

Awesome.

Did I mention Chad was at home? And that my phone was dead? Yep. So my Mom kept him and my bro updated, and helped me in and out of the bed 47 million times, and then before we knew it, all was calm in my belly and I was no longer in pain. Now that's what I'm talking about-- that's why we love antibiotics!!! And just like they predicted, within 30 minutes I was in the clear- thank you Jesus! I had to finish both IV bags, and drink a certain amount of fluids, and the midwife had to come by and check my cervix before I could be officially discharged. And then I was sent with another full prescription of antibiotics. And just to think that all this started at dinner time and I managed to get myself in my own bed by 1:00am. Usually Chad has the ability to sleep in any stressful situation, regardless of what or who is in the midst of it-- but not this time-- he was waiting in bed with the tv on and not even close to sleep. As I got myself, my meds, and my fluids situated, he looked at me and said "It has to be a girl, because she's already a pain in our butt!" :)

We shall see if the 2 uneventful pregnancies compared with this whacko one really does produce a high maintenance little lady that already has her Daddy wrapped around her finger, or if it's just another boy trying really hard to make a name for himself so he doesn't just blend into our blonde brood... regardless of the outcome, I would like to say that 1 evening of high drama is quite enough, and I'm so grateful that it ended there, with no long term ramifications or bed rest or a NICU baby.... oh my Jesus, thank you! And I'm also incredibly grateful for my jump in the car at a moment's notice mother, and friend Anna, and for my praying friends too. My support system is such a blessing.

Dear Baby

You make me really sick first thing in the morning and right before I fall asleep but let me be during the day-- for that I thank you!!

But you've totally ruined my hair- its so dry and nasty I can't even run my hands through it, when normally I have very soft, healthy hair with very little effort. I'm not so thankful for that....

You've increased my joy and excitement surrounding all babies- who knew that was possible! And oh I'm in love with you!

But you've really given me quite the sniffer but unfortunately I live with stinky boys. It's THE worst! Not loving that.... Or the zitty chin of a 13 year old.

On the other hand, I'm sleeping pretty well as long as I'm eating well (well except for the potty break) and then usually a power nap during the day-- thank you!!

And lastly, you have made me a hot mess. I cry daily. Over nothing. For no reason. So far, I've cried because I'm fat, because Jack got his haircut, because of a commercial, looking at babies, reading Facebook, looking at Max's baby picture, because I wanted to talked to your Dad but he didn't answer, and because the day ended with a "y". I'm so emotional, I just hope your Daddy, our family, and my friends still love me after your birth!

You are sure making me wonky, little bean-- changing every normal I've know-- but I'm loving the adventure and I'm proud to have you in my womb... For better and for worse :)

Love,
Mommy Dearest