The Story

We had a hard time deciding what status my labor was at, because my contractions were kind of all over the place.  They were super intense - enough to make me cry by about the 5th contraction.  I was in the bathtub for that one, and I looked at Brian and told him I didn't know if I could do this.  Here we were at the beginning of my labor and I was already having contractions more intense than I remembered ever having.

We called my midwife when the contractions were between 8-15 minutes apart.  She said to lay down and try to stop them since I was only just barely 37 weeks.  But if we couldn't stop them, that's fine, and plan on coming in to the birthing center when they were about 3 minutes apart - or even as close as 90 seconds.

I went to bed and rested on my left side.  Sure enough, we made it past the 15-minute mark, and even past 20.  So we figured that perhaps this really was false labor and things would start slowing down.  But then just as quickly as they slowed down, they sped up again.

By 2:00 AM we were calling my step-dad to come over for childcare.  Contractions were 5 minutes apart and we figured we would be leaving soon.

I was rotating between laying in bed, kneeling against the bed, and standing in Brian's arms.  Brian was a great coach for helping me through my breathing.  A lot of the contractions I could manage with my focal point and steady breathing, but some of them quickly got so bad that I would lose control and start to panic and nearly hyperventilate.  Brian was great at getting me back on track.  And oh - the back labor.  Some times having Brian rub my back or apply pressure would help, but sometimes it would make it worse.  And I couldn't talk, so other than grunting or making some other noise, I offered no helpful advice.  I did, however, drop the occasional "f-bomb", so I'm sure that was helpful.

By 4:00 AM things still weren't progressing past 5 minutes apart, and poor Brian was delirious.  I told him to give me the watch and the paper, and that I would try to monitor my own contractions while he got some rest.  From 4:00 - 5:00 I labored in bed, timing my own contractions, which had now slowed to 8-10 minutes apart.  But boy were they doozies.  But at least I got some rest in-between.

I woke Brian up at 5:00 because my contractions were too intense to handle on my own.  They were also back to about 5-6 minutes apart.  I couldn't sit or lay down any more, so I mostly stood and held onto Brian.  Even though the contractions were still technically too far apart, the pain and pressure between them was so intense that I told Brian I thought we should leave soon.  When they finally got to about 4-5 minutes apart, we called the midwife and said we were coming in.  Brian lied and said we were "about 3 minutes apart".

I hobbled down the stairs and to the car while Brian grabbed the last of our stuff.  Trying to sit on the car seat was about the cruelest joke ever.  Hurt.  So.  Bad.  We pulled out of our neighborhood and onto the road, and I immediately lost control of my contraction and started yelling "I think I need to push!", but started frantically blowing as Brian shouted "don't push!  blow it away!".  I had one more contraction like that before we pulled up to the front door of the birthing center.

As Brian was turning the car off, he quickly fiddled with the CD player, as the music he knew I wanted to listen to during labor was still in the car.  But he couldn't figure out how to eject the CD, and I think I mentioned something along the lines of "eff it", so he hopped out and started to come around to my door.

Suddenly I started screaming that I couldn't get out and that I needed to push RIGHT NOW.  Brian turned around, ran inside the birthing center and yelled for the midwives.

It was during this moment that I looked down and realized that the CD had ejected.  So I thought, "hmm, don't want it to go back into the player, so I better grab it" and I reached down and grabbed the CD and placed it on the center console.

Before Brian could even get back outside (and it's not a big place - he was gone maybe 9 seconds) I started screaming bloody murder.  "THE BABY'S COMING, THE BABY'S COMING NOW, I CAN FEEL IT'S HEAD."  Through my sweat pants I could feel the head starting to bulge.

Right then the midwives got to my car door and asked if I could get out of the car.  "No, I can't move.  The head's already out."  The midwife pulled my pants down and said that the head wasn't out yet, and that it was cold outside, and could I move inside?  "No."  And just then the head popped out.

The other midwife ran in and got towels to put under me and to catch the baby with.  When the baby's head was out we could see that it was still fully inside the still-intact sack.  A few seconds later and the body was out, and the midwife was peeling back the sack.

There I was, sitting in my car, pants around one ankle, shoes on the gravel, holding my baby in a towel.  I was of course worried that the baby was okay, but the midwife kept checking him and saying it was fine, despite its purple color.  We needed to get inside where it was warm.



It wasn't until we were in our room, situated on the bed, checking over the baby that we even thought to check to see the gender.  Honestly, by then it didn't really matter.  I had a beautiful baby in my arms, still attached by umbilical cord, and I was completely in love.

Every thing else went completely well.  I felt great.  Baby was doing amazing.  And Brian and I just kept looking at each other, laughing and saying "I just had a baby in the car".

There were so many little miracles along the way that had God's hand all over them.  Even just little things, like the fact that I had "let go" of my desire to have someone in the room with us, photographing the entire birth.  Also, since I hadn't yet made it to my 37-week appointment, we hadn't tested for Group B Strep, so we hadn't decided whether or not we would treat for it.  But since the baby was born in an intact sack, there was virtually no risk of contracting GBS.  Oh, and not to mention the fact that Brian was originally scheduled to be flying home from Singapore later the same day the baby was born.  I also keep thinking to myself, what if we had waited at home for just one more contraction?  We would have had the baby on the side of the road.

God's hand was all over every little detail.  Everyone's fine.  And now we have a fun story to tell.

Pics to come.  But not of the delivery...

In Labor?

Well, I am at Orange and quickly moving towards Red if things don't change.  I started getting strong contractions late this afternoon while I was cleaning Emma's room.  They were painful, but a good hour or more apart.  But they've continued throughout the evening and night, and gotten to about 15 minutes apart and very painful.

I wasn't prepared for this.  We still have three weeks!  Brian is being awesome, running back and forth between coaching me through contractions and trying to get our house ready!

Okay, we're now to 8 min apart.

I'm sad to say we won't be live-blogging this birth like last time.  We had wanted to, but our laptop died and our iPad hasn't arrived yet! :(  I'm pretty bummed about that.  But honestly, since I'm not getting an epidural there probably wouldn't be much time to blog anyway.

Gotta go!

Color Chart

I am over the flu bug that had me knocked-out yesterday.  Thankfully I can focus on caring for my family.

Except.  As I was waking up in bed, I started noticing that I was having a fair amount of contractions.  These are the "braxton hicks" contractions that I've been having for months, but they were strong enough to make me stop and focus through them.  And they were frequent - every 5-10 minutes.

I rolled over in bed to see if a different position might stop them.  But they kept coming.  So I called Brian at work and said "I am calling to put you on Orange Alert - make sure you answer your phone today".

I had a feeling that once I was up and moving around, the contractions might stop.  At least that's what I hoped.  And they did.  Praise the Lord.

So a little while later I called Brian to let him know he was off "alert".

Then a while later I get a call from Brian and his cube-mate, who was listening in the background.

Me:  Hello?


Brian:  Yeah, so Quinn and I were talking, and we feel like you violated the color-code.


Me:  Oh you do?


Brian:  Yeah, so we've been working on a chart.  The White Family Labor Code Chart.


Me:  Um, okay.


Brian:  We have green, blue, orange and red.  We feel like you violated the use of orange.


Me:  Wow, I'm so sorry.  


Brian:  Blue is where you need to be if you are feeling suspicious.  Orange is where labor is imminent.  Red means get home now. 


Me:  Then at this point I think I can just permanently reside at Blue.


Brian:  (spoken to his cube-mate)  She wants to reside at Blue.  I don't think she can do that.  Can she?  No, you can't do that.


Me:  Fine.  Downgrade me to green.  I'll call you with updates.


Brian:  Please just page me with colors.


Me:  Fine.



I'm off to wash the two baby onesies I own.

35 Weeks

I am around 35 weeks pregnant now.  These pictures are all from the past few days.  And yes, I still get comments EVERYwhere I go.  Most recently, tonight, the receptionist at urgent care (Biniam had his elbow looked at - he's fine).  "Wow, oh wow.  I just love it when women get SO huge all out in front.  I was always so tiny and compact.  Sigh."

Here is what I look like.

Here is what I spend my time doing.

Friday Update

It's been a busy week.  We are trying really hard to blaze through as many school lessons as possible between now and the birth of the baby.  Plus of course there are still projects that I am frantically trying to finish, including the quilts.

I actually made a ton of progress on the second quilt yesterday, and thought I would be able to announce that I finally had the top of it done.  Then as I got to the end of sewing the last long strip of squares to the rest of the quilt, I discovered that somehow the strip had ended up two inches too short.  I don't even understand how it is scientifically possible, as the strip measured just fine next to the quilt before I started sewing.  Upon this discovery, I may or may not have let out a four-letter word.  Or two.  Then I called to Brian, who came to my rescue and began the arduous process of seam-ripping.  I took my cankles to bed.

Speaking of my cankles, I haven't ever posted a picture of them because something strange happened.  They went away.  For the past five weeks or so, I have had normal-sized ankles.  That has never happened to me in a pregnancy before.  So I've been taking advantage of it and wearing things like leggings and ballet-flats.  And feeling pretty darn sexy.  But then this week, the cankles came back with a vengeance.  Same with leg pain, back pain, and, um, an inability to walk normal.  My mom thinks it's possible I overdid things last weekend.  I'm not sure.  

I'll be 35 weeks tomorrow.  The only reason I'm really counting is that I have to be at least 37 weeks to deliver at the birthing center.  I really want that to happen.  I don't know why, but I've felt like this whole pregnancy has been a series of nervous-milestones.  I really just want to get to the point where I am holding this baby and all is healthy.

Brian and the little boys are doing Monster Jam tonight, and I am having a girl's night out.  Then tomorrow it's - yep, back to projects!

Belly Stuff

Something has happened recently.  In the last couple of weeks it's like a spotlight has turned on over me, and suddenly everyone, everywhere, notices that I'm pregnant.  And they comment on the fact that I'm pregnant.

It started two weeks ago when I was at my best friend's house.  Her sons, 6 and 3, both had a lightbulb go off and finally figured out that there is a baby in my belly.  They have both been around me the whole pregnancy, and been told that there is a baby in me, but on this particular day they really "got it".  

But the kicker was a few nights later, standing in church, when the 6-year old came over to me in the middle of worship and said "your back's getting chubby, too". 

(For what it's worth, I thought that comment was hilarious.  Still do.)

But now, suddenly adults can't stop commenting either.  On Sunday, Brian and I were out running errands and stopped at a gas station.  I went in for supplies candy, and as I was paying, the clerk struck up a conversation about my belly, when I was due, how she couldn't believe we were intentionally NOT finding out the sex of the baby, how her sister is pregnant with a boy, how she herself has two boys, and how her mom is busy buying tons of baby stuff.  When I got out to the car I told Brian how "over" I am talking to strangers about my pregnancy.

Then we went to Costco.  Brian left me standing in an aisle while he went back to grab something.  While I was waiting for him, near the sample lady, she suddenly turned around and asked me when I was due. 

April.

Really?  Wow, I thought you were due any time now.

Just then Brian walked up and saw what was happening, and started laughing.  

It's like every time I walk into a room, people grab towels and start boiling water - just in case.  

So here I am, about six months pregnant:

I actually have to say that I think this picture makes me look smaller.  At least than how I see myself in the mirror.  

I wasn't going to show you this one, because I think my thighs look fat (they are).  But, here it is anyway. 

And just an extra little tidbit for you.  When I sit in a chair, my belly rests on the top of my legs.  That's right.  I can even feel the baby kicking from my legs.  Sexy.  

Friday

Brian gets home from Singapore tomorrow!  Yippee!!

I have a TON more work to do on my quilt(s).  After dropping $125 on fabric this week, I was sure I came home with more than enough fabric to finish these projects.  But guess what?  I am heading back to the store today because I don't even have enough fabric to finish the little squares on ONE quilt.  I'm screwed.  Don't tell Brian.

In bunk bed news, the search continues.  I am still stalking Craig and his List like a crazy woman.  Yesterday I found a wood loft bed that I like.  It doesn't have a lower bunk, but there is room to slide a twin bed under it.  But I am waiting until Brian gets home and can look at it before I make a purchase.  In the meantime, I found a posting for a FREE bunk bed.  I responded to the ad within minutes of it being posted.  I left the contact person a voice mail, sent a text, and an email.  But I got the impression that it was a first-come, first-serve basis, and that I better just get out there (the address was posted on the ad).  So I called my Mom, we grabbed her truck, and drove out.  No one answered at the house.  Why would they?  They weren't expecting us.  I was beginning to feel like a stalker.  And also wondering if I could just break into their garage some how and pick up the bunk bed.  Then I finally got a reply to the text I sent.  "Bed was just picked up 40 minutes ago."  Dang!

Yesterday my Cankles were huge.  HUGE.  I'm not sure they've ever been bigger - even at the end of my pregnancies.  Perhaps its something to do with doing all my sewing standing up at a counter, since I don't have a table suitable for the job?

I'll post some actual pictures of my feet soon.  It's quite amusing.


Have a great weekend!

Three Years Ago

It was 4:50 AM, and Brian dropped me off at the Emergency Doors of the hospital downtown.  The main doors were locked since it was so early in the morning.  Brian drove off to park the car, and we had agreed to meet on the 2nd floor - Labor and Delivery Triage.

I was scheduled to be induced at 5:00 that morning, two weeks before my actual due date.  Our moods were calm, happy and excited.

I walked through the Emergency lobby, asked an attendant which way the elevators were, and continued down the hallway.  The hallway went on forever.  There were no people around, and sometimes the lights were only dim.  I kept going, but soon felt like I must have missed a turn somewhere.  My surroundings weren't looking like "public access" anymore.

I turned around to trace my steps and see if I had missed anything.  Sure enough, about half-way back, there was a wide hallway to the right that I must have missed.  I turned down it, and on the right-side wall I noticed some beautiful quilts hanging.  I admired them as I walked past.

Soon I found myself in the (dark and deserted) main lobby that I've been in many times.  I knew from there I would be able to find the elevators.  I even saw a sign that said "Elevators" with an arrow pointing, so I followed it.  I wound up walking through the same wide hallway I had just been through, and again admired the quilts, this time on the left-side wall.

I continued down a maze of smaller hallways and eventually found a single elevator.  It was big, so it could fit a gurney in it.  I scanned the keypad for the number 2, and pushed it.  It didn't light up.  I tried again.  No matter what I did, I couldn't get the number 2 to light up.  So I pushed 4.  I waited until the door opened up on the 4th floor, then closed, and then I pushed 2 again.  Nothing happened.  Then I fought back tears.

Meanwhile, Brian has parked the car in the parking garage, grabbed our bags, gone up to Triage on the 2nd floor, and saw that I wasn't there waiting for him.  He assumed I'd already been taken back to get hooked up, so he went to the window and said "I'm here to see my wife".  "No one has checked in here", said the nurse.

Back in the elevator I decide to push the button for the First floor and go back to where I started.  On my way down the hall towards the Emergency Room I again pass the wide hallway with the now-familiar quilts.  Only something happens this time.  Instead of looking at the quilts, my eyes glance to the wall opposite of them.  Where there is a BANK OF ELEVATOR DOORS.

I quickly get on an elevator and push the "2" button without any problems.  The door opens on the 2nd floor and I immediately see Brian and a nurse with slightly concerned looks on their faces.

"What happened?"

"I don't want to talk about it", I choke.

And we headed back to have a baby.



Read about what happened next here, here, here, here, and here. 

A Timeline

July 29 - I arrive home from a long trip in Washington.  Brian is home from a trip to Japan.  We are really happy to see each other.  (Hee, hee - TMI!)

August 8 - Sunday night, and I am packing for our family vacation the next morning.  Suddenly I have a suspicious feeling.  I rummage through my bathroom drawer and find an old pregnancy test - in the foil wrapper, but with no directions.  I pee on it, and a line shows up in each of the two windows.  Then I realize that without the directions, I have no idea what the two lines mean.  I head down to the computer with a pale face, kick Brian off, and try googling the serial number.  That yielded no additional information, so off to Walgreens Brian went.  Two tests later and we had confirmation that, yes, I was 4 weeks pregnant.

Week 5 - We enjoyed our family vacation despite the fact that I wasn't able to enjoy most of our planned activities (mimosas, wakeboarding and hot tubbing). 

Week 6 - We went camping at Redfish Lake.  I continued my training for a 1/2 marathon and enjoyed a nice 5+ mile run.

Week 7 - The fatigue and constant nausea set in.

Week 7.5 - I start homeschooling Emma.

Week 8 - Completed my longest-ever run (7 miles) with my training partner.  The next day, had some spotting, so got some blood work and an ultrasound to make sure everything looked okay with the pregnancy.  Everything checked out fine.

Week 9 - I quit running, but continued swimming and walking.

Week 10 - I head to Florida for a visit with my brother and his family.  I feel sick the whole time.

Week 11 - I have my first OB checkup.  Things look great.

Week 11.5 - We finally tell our kids that we are having a baby.

Week 12 - Brian and I go on our anniversary trip.  My pregnancy sickness is still not any better, plus I get the flu on our last day.

Week 13 - I feel little "flutters" when the baby moves.

Week 14 - I suddenly start bleeding heavily on a Sunday night.  Brian and I are sure we've lost the baby.  We opt not to go to the ER, unless I really need to, since we have a scheduled ultrasound the next morning.  We survive an emotional night.  Then, miraculously, the next morning the bleeding stopped, and the ultrasound showed the baby alive and well.  The bleeding was from the placenta, but there was no explanation for it.

Week 15 - I start researching a local birthing center and feel compelled to give it a try.  We tour the facility and meet with one of the midwives, and decide to transfer there for the remainder of my prenatal care.

Week 17 - I finally start feeling like the "morning sickness" is over. 

Week 20 - We finally make the announcement to the rest of our family (in person), that we are having another baby.  It feels so good to finally be able to talk about it in the open.

Week 20.5 - We have our ultrasound and manage to exercise self-control and not find out the sex.  Everything looks good with the baby.