I woke up early on April Fool’s Day feeling some tightening here and there. I had felt these “contractions” before, but usually only once a day, late in the day.
This day was a little different. They started nice and early. And by “they”, I mean more than one.
They weren’t 3-5 minutes apart and I could hold a conversation through them. BUT, they were there. And that was new.
My 39th week appointment was set for 9:30a.m. I was expecting a 2 cm dilation or something that impressive. I mean, come on, I was 1 cm dilated 9 days before, so there should be progress, right?
Not so much. I was still a measly 1 and my cervix was long. Basically, not impressive enough to convince my adored doctor I’d be coming in over the weekend to deliver while he was on-call. About a 50/50 shot. (Way to go out on a limb with that prediction Doc. So committal of you. Not.)
I made it my mission to prove him wrong. (You know, to have some control over this whole ball of wax.)
My reasons? 1) Because I wanted to have him as my doctor, for once. 2) It would work out with our neighbor to get over to our house easier if it were a weekend night. 3) My in-laws would be able to come get the kids early in the morning if it happened now, not sometime next week. 4) And lastly, Rt’s birthday is on Wednesday and I didn’t want to come close to messing with that.
Plus, I knew my body. Well, I knew it well enough to know that if you do any sort of “helping” down below, I have a track record of going into labor. And by track record, I mean the two other times I have delivered. See, I AM A PRO.
So, with my non-impressive 1 cm, he stripped my membranes and off I went. I had told him of my sporadic contractions, but even I knew that if they weren’t consistent and rather painful, there was no need to show up anywhere near Labor & Delivery. The day went on like any other day the past few weeks. The kids were attended to, the house was tidied once again, (in case anyone else would be showing up last-minute to stay) and the thoughts of wondering when all of this would take place clouded my head.
We did decide to go on a walk, hoping to help out my contracting process. We weren’t in the mood to hook up, we’d tried that before with the last kid and it didn’t work, so playing another round of Twister was not on our dockit. It’s just awkward. And awkward and “really pregnant” are just not a sexy combination.
Anyway, we walked. I had issues with my groin, but I forged on. We made our way to the local grocery store. We bought steak, baked potatoes and asparagus. If this was to be our “last supper,” then we were going to go all out. (I even had a small glass of wine. And it was good.)
I decided to go to bed at 10 p.m. hoping to get some sort of sleep through all of the aches and stiffness of the day. The lights were out, except for the illumination of my IPhone. I was using a Contraction App to keep track of my stats. (Can you believe they have stuff like this? Craaazy.)
Somehow I must have dosed off because at 11:35p.m., I woke up to what I thought was my water breaking. I then held back, thinking I might have just peed a little, but more came out. I then knew it wasn’t me.
I made my way to the bathroom down the hall, so I could investigate. If it was still a false-alarm, (ya, right) I didn’t want to wake up hubs. He needed all the sleep he could get. What I did see when I turned on the light was ultimately frightening.
What was trickling down my leg was brown. A green-brown. It wasn’t supposed to look like this, I knew. And I was scared.
Sam had clearly been stressed recently, maybe due to the continual contractions of the day and pooped in his amniotic sac. Once it broke, it was coming out, in droves. I panicked. My mind raced to c-section, to aspirating on the tar-like first poop, to thinking this is not supposed to happen like this.
I found a towel, waddled in to the bedroom and said, “Babe….BABE. My water broke.” I explained the rest of my discovery in detail and told him we had to go, NOW.
Within minutes, our neighbor was in our house and I was trying to find a way to clean myself up, slip on some clean underwear and pull my jeans on with one hand while not leaking anymore fluid. It wasn’t working. So, with a little help from hubs, I shoved a towel in the crotch of my pants added plenty of towels on the seat in hubs’ car and off we went. As we drove up our street, I said, “GO FASTER.”
I called the doctors’ office en route and got ahold of my doctor, (basically waking him up, of course.) He acted like poop wasn’t the biggest deal in the world and said the hospital would contact him with what he needed to do. Everything would be ok. OK! OK? Poop is considered OK here? I knew I needed to trust him, but I was still skeptical until we heard his heartbeat.
We did get to skip triage this time. I guess when you’ve got green fluid coming down your leg, you’re considered the “REAL DEAL.” We were assigned to room #22 (my favorite number) and thus, the night began (and the heartbeat was found. phew.)
At 12:30am, I was officially checked. A good TWO. (Dammit!) I had already put in my order for an epidural, but the nurse, (sweet Jennifer) said she would contact my doc to see what his thoughts were for ordering an epidural before the 3cm cutoff. (NOTE: THIS PART IS VERY IMPORTANT.)
By, 1am, I was told the epidural was, indeed, on its way. He had, in fact, approved me at a TWO. (THANK YOU SWEET JESUS.) My adoring back labor was started to really dig its ugly head into my lower back. I knew relief was on its way soon, so I think handled the pain “better” than in times past, but I fully knew I couldn’t bear through it forever.
By 1:30am, the god of all gods showed up with his big needle and sparkling smile. Within 10-15 minutes, I was well on my way to Happyville and loving every tingle along the way.
At 2am, I was checked again. A WHOPPING THREE.
Wow, this was going to be a long night. The lights were then turned off and we all settled in to quietly labor the rest of the night. Maybe get a little shut-eye while we were at it.
Twenty minutes later, yes, TWENTY MINUTES LATER, the nurse came back in and I told her I felt some pressure in the bum. (She decided to check me to since pressure in the bum wasn’t exactly what one feels at 3 cm.)
20 minutes later and I was fully dilated.
JUST TWENTY MINUTES LATER.
The doctor was immediately called and I was told to NOT DO A THING.
The rustle and bustle began to happen. The nursery people began to show. The birth cart was wheeled in, the NICU team showed up letting me know they were going to assess him after delivery based on the Meconium in my fluid.
Hubs and I were looking at each other dumbfounded that we were about to have a baby, within MINUTES. How did we get here? Weren’t we just eating steak for dinner? It was all happening so fast. We knew we were in good hands, but it was scary. Exciting, but scary all at the same time.
My doctor got there by 2:35am. He had enough time to put on his delivery scrubs, here me tell him, “Look what you did to me” and take his position. Two short pushes later, and out he came, crying and peeing every step of the way. He was covered in a white paste with green slime all over. It was an endearing Swamp thing that came out of my hoo haw. It truly didn’t matter what he looked like, because he was ok. He was going to be alright. And that’s all that mattered.
Not much more than 3 hours since I was awakened in the night, did Sam Riley make his debut.
And we’re so thrilled.
Our family is now complete.
What a ride.
Sam Riley was born at 2:45am, Saturday, April 2nd.
He weighs 7 lbs, 11 oz and 19 1/2 inches long.
Now that we’ve got a good idea on when you think this baby will come (which most of you think will happen TOMORROW) how about weight?
Rt: Born on his due date: 7 lb 5 oz, 19 3/4 inches
Hola: Born 3 days late: 8 lbs 1 oz, 20 inches
Well, what do you know. I’ve got another belly shot. PARTAY. I could have sworn last week was going to be the final one, but I just had some time on my hands and thought I would see if there was much change in this last week. Not so much, it seems…
This is what you get when you finish taking some photos of yourself right when the kids go down for nap time and then decide to check on said kids to see if they are asleep/resting quietly.
As you can see behind door #2, there is no resting to be had. We are singing songs and talking to a camera about who knows what. What I can tell you, it scared the shit out of me when I turned the monitor on. WOAH. FREAAAAKER.
Hubs drove a couple of hours this morning to buy my new car. I can’t wait!!! It was bittersweet seeing my adorable 4Runner in the driveway one last time. She was good to me. To us. May she not be sold for parts and sold to some 16 year old who needs a little extra love on the road.
Tomorrow, I hope to have a fine pic of my new wheels to share. Such a great start to SUCH A BIG WEEK.
So, I had my 38thish week appt this morning.
And along with my stats from Hola this week, I lost weight. 1/2 a lb, but I’ll take it!
Also, I am ONE cm. Never been this “far along” at this stage. Was only 1/2 cm with Hola. Of course, this basically means absolutely nothing, but hey, I only have 2 more cms to go before I can get an epidural.
So, I thought I would put up a poll on when you think this babe might show. If you have any further questions prior to your vote, then ask away. I doubt there are any, but go ahead, if needed.
So, as of now, I go back next Friday morning. We plan on stripping my membranes in hopes it will send me into labor like it did with Hola. (That night!) That way, my doctor will be on call all weekend and be able to deliver at least ONE of my babies.
So, here we are. 38 weeks and counting. This could be the last picture I take of myself pregnant. EVER. Agh, the finality of writing that is so bizarre.
I wasn’t really sure if we would have more than 2 kids when I was close to delivering Hola. I didn’t really know, but deep down I guess I thought it wasn’t the last. I know I didn’t feel this way.
It’s almost over.
Of course there are things I will NOT miss while being pregnant. Oh, let me count the ways!
1) I will not be scrapped on the cervix with a fingernail ever again. (That one just happened earlier today.)
2) I will not have to pee 8374 times during the day AND in the night.
3) I will be able to use the bathroom in less than 2 minutes. The full deal. It takes me a good 5-10 these days. I can only imagine where my colon has been pushed to at this stage of the game.
4) I will get my regular sized boobs back. Don’t get me wrong, it’s “fun” to have bigger boobs, but I like my bras to fit, not feel so “cup runneth over.” Blech.
5) Being able to workout without feeling like something is tugging on my groin ligaments JUST BECAUSE. Ya, that one is SPECIAL.
I am sure there are more things, but I guess I’d rather focus on the things that will never happen again that I will actually MISS.
There are plenty of those too…..sigh.
Pictures of the finished nursery up at Style Lush today! Tell me what you think of my homemade stars on the wall.
So, it’s almost over.
My time spent making babies.
And I’m sad.
Don’t get me wrong, I feel like I’ve been pregnant forever. And for the past 7 years, I’ve been at this game for a good portion of it. Twice, I’ve starting trying for a baby in December, lost it in May, got another chance in July and due the following April. Add those to a regular 9 month initial pregnancy and you’ve got yourself a lot of time in the baby-making department. This girl is tired.
It’s not like I was that little girl who dreamed big girl dreams of being a mother. I knew it was in front of me, someday. I don’t think I ever dreamed of what my married life would be either. But now, being so close to the end, it’s just a hard thought to swallow. Someday I’ll be that mom who has three boys who are somewhat grown and look fondly at that new mom who’s struggling all over the place wishing I was back there (here) all over again.
I am looking forward to these two weeks being here ASAP, but at the same time I am really enjoying my little family of four. We’re a tight-knit team. We’re solid. We’re happy. I’m on top of my game. It’s a lot of hard work, but all the things I am juggling in my head, are doable. My life is manageable. Not that adding another child won’t continue to make this happen, but there will be a lot of “being ok with just getting by” that is so far from my personality. (SO FAR.) And when I don’t get enough sleep, I’m horribly cranky. I’m in no mood to be horribly cranky. What choice do I have, really? (I don’t.)
But, being that this is my last time doing any of this, birthing a child, having my children meet their new sibling for the first time, coming home from the hospital, all of it, has to make this scary ride that much more worth it. I just hope that I can remember that in times of desperation. It’ll go by so fast and once again I’ll be managing my ship with more ease. (PLEASE tell me I’m right, PLEASE??)
Here’s to my last lap. May I remember every last bit of it.
You guys. YOU GUYS. We STILL do not have a name for this baby.
After all the discussions, the inquiry on Facebook and plenty of time to harbor over this, we are still no further along on our journey.
Ok, yes. We have some names, but there isn’t that ONE that pulls on our heartstrings simultaneously like you would hope the name of your future child should bring.
I’m hoping a name we already have swimming around will develop some deeper meaning over the next TWENTY DAYS or a new, random name will come to the fore-front.
I am so glad naming our other two children wasn’t this difficult.
So, Project Toddler Paci Takeaway is in full swing! We started yesterday before nap time with a secret doorbell ring. What was there when we opened the door was a note and an empty jar.
She asked if all of the pacis could be put into the jar and hung from our tree so all the little babies of the world could have pacis that Hola didn’t need anymore. If Hola complied, then he would receive a BIG PRESENT when he got up from his nap.
While all of this has gone rather well, adding this layer of adjustment to a Daylight Saving time-change really makes for an exhausted mommy. I have gotten up off the couch countless times in the last 24 hours getting that kid back in bed. Fortunately, he eventually goes to sleep and no tears have been shed at this point. A definite win. Not that I don’t have remind the kid where his pacis ran off to, but overall, I am pleased with all of the adjustments we have thrown his way in the past two months. SUCH a trooper!
Let’s see, I’m 37 weeks as of yesterday and only gained a half pound at my last visit. I decided to round up and call it an even 30 lbs gained. Not bad. I know my body will still plan to add on the lbs even in these next 3 weeks based on the previous two kids, but I know how to handle it like I’ve done before.
So, we do, in fact, need a new car. Maybe. The inability of the infant car seat base to rest completely against the back of the seat (it’s in there tight in between our two Sunshine Kids boosters, but it’s not perfect.) makes me uneasy. I think I may take out one of the boosters, then put the base in, and try it again.
If not, we’re going car shopping this weekend to buy a car we are not ready to buy.
So, I hit 36 weeks yesterday. That’s a week away from being FULL-TERM. My prego application today told me I was carrying something in the form of a 6.5 lb watermelon. A WATERMELON. My hoo haw is aching as I type this. Oy vay.
I registered Hola for preschool this morning, (CARAAAAAZY) so I was late getting to my mom’s meeting. As I was getting myself settled in my seat, did I realize the entire table was decorated in baby blue with diaper pins, jelly beans and all things baby shower. WHAT A SURPRISE. Along with a sweet card, the gals at my table gave me a gift card at Pottery Barn Kids. (Guess who gets to finish the nursery now??) Such a sweet gesture for a group that didn’t have to do anything for me, really. I SO appreciate them thinking of me. A lot of people I know don’t get recognized for any child after #1, so I feel very blessed all around.
The hilarious part to the “shower” was a sweet gal at my table told me I looked “ready” (to have a baby) since my face, especially the eyes looked puffed up/out/whathaveyou. While I almost died a little inside, I smiled and stuffed a brownie in my face before I started crying crocodile tears. I did tell her that I had my first in almost my ENTIRE pregnancy meltdown over the weekend where I did bawl my eyes out. Maybe I am still recovering from my hormonal drama, but I am afraid the lovely perks of late-pregnancy are coming to fruition. I am starting to fill out everywhere, I guess. 29 lbs has to go somewhere, doesn’t it?
I have my group B swab test on Wednesday. While he’s down there, I might as well ask him where we stand regarding dilation. My guess? A Big ‘Ol ZERO. (Which is truly fine with me. I still have some shopping to do!)
Wait, no. I don’t have to do any actual spreading until my next appointment in the 36th week for Group B strep. No, I am talking about this lovely thing that has happened to me recently called Symphysis Pubis Dysfunction (SPD).
Ya, it sounds great, doesn’t it?
I can tell you, it sucks major donkey balls.
“SPD is most commonly associated with pregnancy and childbirth. It is a condition that causes excessive movement of the pubic symphysis, either anterior or lateral, as well as associated pain, possibly because of a misalignment of the pelvis.”
Well, ain’t I the lucky one?
I am not sure if this is also related to the heated fire throbbing of my vajajay over the past couple of months, since that discomfort has to do with additional blood flow to the hoo haw region.
But, what do I know. I’m just on my 3rd (5th) pregnancy and I have never experienced anything like this with the other two kids. Seems my body is telling me something I already know. THIS IS OUR LAST AND FINAL BABY.
Case in point. I needed to run to the market yesterday evening to buy ground beef for meatloaf. Hubs asked if I wanted to take Hola since he was playing Mario Bros. with Rt. I told him, honestly, I don’t think I can physically do it and I’d be right back if I went alone.
So, I headed out alone and had a short list of meat and an assortment of fruit to get us through the next few days or so. I grabbed a basket and on I went. Not long in to my shopping, my basket was getting heavy. I recalled I needed celery and greek yogurt to make chicken salad for lunch the next day, but as I turned to head towards the yogurt aisle, the spasms in my groin started to act up.
Um, I had to DITCH THE YOGURT because I didn’t think I could get there and back AND to the checkout AND the car without experiencing enough spasms to stop me in my tracks every few feet or so.
So, this latest discovery is as inconvenient as it gets. Hello, what do I do all day? TAKE CARE OF TWO KIDS, which includes, MOVING, leaving the house quite often, keeping this house looking semi-decent AND get ready for a new baby. I do not have time for getting stuck in my tracks….
Wikepedia has some suggestions for me:
Typical advice usually given to women includes avoiding strenuous exercise, prolonged standing, vacuum cleaning, stretching exercises and squatting. Women are also frequently advised to:
- Brace the pelvic floor muscles before performing any activity which might cause pain
- Rest the pelvis
- Sit down for tasks where possible (e.g. preparing food, ironing, dressing)
- Avoid lifting and carrying.
- Avoid stepping over things.
- Avoid straddle movements especially when weight bearing.
- Bend the knees and keep the legs ‘glued together’ when turning in bed and getting in and out of bed.
- Place a pillow between the legs when in bed or resting.
- Avoid twisting movements of the body.
If the pain is very severe, using elbow crutches will help take the weight off the pelvis and assist with mobility. Alternatively, for more extreme cases a wheelchair may be considered advisable.
So, what exactly CAN I do?
And the suggestions they have for labor? Forget about it. Basically, I need to be very careful, especially if I have an epidural as to not make matters worse by straining without knowing I am, spreading my legs too far out, etc. So, the suggested doggy style is my safest option. Ya, I’ll get right on that….
I don’t think my current condition is truly severe. I believe there are many people out there who have it worse. BUT, I do know this is no fun. I am hoping, like Wikepedia tells me, this will go away after birth. I have been having a love/hate relationship with the relaxin hormone ever since I got pg. So, this is just one more step on my journey.
Let’s hope these next 5 weeks are more pain free than not. If you need me, I’ll be on my couch, with my legs symmetrically elevated while eating bon bons and watching Days of our Lives.
(Just to add, my doctor never told me this is what I am experiencing or my diagnosis, but after googling the exact pain I have been experiencing, this disorder fits it to a tea. Hell, I’d like to be wrong, but I am guessing I’m not far off.)