Edie

Introducing, our Eden:

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Five Months Old

Nine Months Old

Now at eleven months old, she's on the verge of walking and will be a big kid before we know it. She's our happiest baby by far, with a smile that takes up her whole face, and an infectious giggle her brothers love to induce. Welcome to the family, Edie!

JoJo's Birth Story

Two weeks ago today, I left the boys with Grandpa and headed up to my midwife's office for my weekly appointment; I told them I'd be back in a couple of hours, kissed them goodbye, and asked them to behave well while I was gone. Less than 8 hours later, I was holding their sister in my arms and Nana & Opa were putting them to bed.

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At my midwife appointment, it was determined that my body had progressed to the point that labor was imminent. We talked about 'the plan', since it looked like I would be going into labor in the next day or so. I voiced concern about laboring at home with the boys and being 30-45 minutes from anyone who could help; my midwife could see that I was letting the idea of being in labor at home, alone with two toddlers, get the best of me. She suggested that we consider the option of 'inducing' labor then, which would only consist of breaking my (already bulging) bag of waters and allowing us to labor in the hospital instead of on the highway and to stay in one place instead of trying to move and cope with contractions in the car. Husby and I had already discussed this option that morning, so I readily agreed and headed over to Labor & Delivery.

At about noon, I was admitted to the hospital. Alone. Husby still needed to leave work, pick up my Dad, and bring him to collect my car (which had the only seats for the boys). Our doulas were also on their way, but as I had feared, I was on my own for more than an hour before my 'team' began to assemble. Fortunately, I wasn't technically in labor yet, and was able to answer all of the nurses questions and enjoy a last few minutes of calm before the storm.

Since I was planning an unmedicated birth, I was able to talk the nurses into letting me go without an IV. After Eli's birth, and all the craziness associated with my IV, I was relieved that I didn't have to worry about it. It was understood by all that they had permission to do what was needed in case of an emergency (start an IV, stick me in the thigh, knock me out, whatever), but I was able to be without needles and plastic in my arms for my labor. What a relief!

I was also allowed to wear my own clothes, which I had planned specifically for the type of labor that I wanted. Instead of a hospital gown, which is fairly restricting and uncomfortable, I donned a super soft bikini top and simple black wrap skirt, with a tank top added for some modesty at first. Everything I was wearing could be quickly removed if and when that became necessary, and yet I felt more like myself than some invalid in an institution. (Perception is a huge factor for me in labor!)

At about 12:30, my team was ready and my midwife arrived to break my water. Since I wasn't having steady contractions yet (or really, any at all to speak of), we set out to walk the halls and get Baby Girl moved down into a better birthing position. Without the cushion of her bag of waters, I could feel her head come down as we walked ... and walked ... and walked ... lap upon lap around the Labor & Delivery and Recovery units. Nurses waved and joked with us as we passed them again and again, snacking on some grapes and crackers to keep our energy up.

With a couple of stops back at our room to rest and check my blood pressure, we spent more than 2 hours trying (and failing) to get contractions started. Our doulas suggested a side-lying release to help get my body into a better position, and helped me twist around on the bed to try it out. Right around the same time, we got a new (much friendlier) nurse, who was excited that we were planning to birth "the way they do back home" - she was a midwife in Australia, where epidurals are unheard of and "natural" is also "normal". I loved her immediately, and the stress in the room dissipated instantly. 

We were passing 3 o'clock, and starting the get a little nervous that nothing was happening, when my first contractions hit. I had just sat up from the side-lying release, swung my legs over the side of the bed, and mentioned to our doulas that nothing felt different - and suddenly was hit with three strong contractions in a row. Husby sat on the stool at the side of the bed and I was able to lean into him to work through them. He gently stroked my arms and encouraged me to relax into the pressure.

We knew we wanted to labor (and possibly birth) in the tub, and our nurse set to work getting it all set up. It was suggested that I try to empty my bladder before things got moving too quickly, so Husby and I moved into the bathroom for a few minutes. On the toilet, I was beginning to moan softly to help focus my energy during the peak of a contraction. When started to feel a bit nauseous, and our doulas came to the rescue, spraying oils around the room that calmed both my stomach and my mind. Contractions continued to get stronger, and I asked that the tub be filled so that I could get in soon (I knew it would take 10-15 minutes to fill, and didn't want to wait much longer than that). My midwife asked that she be allowed to check my dilation before I got into the water, just to make sure things were moving like we thought they were, and then stepped out to put on her scrubs. A few contractions later she was back, and we moved to the bed for a check. I had been at 4cm when she broke my water, and as soon as she tried to check my cervix it "melted" into a 7+. She held it there for a contraction, making sure it would stay and continue progressing, and said I was nearly to 8cm by the time she was done. 

With confirmation that things really were moving quickly, I was anxious to get some relief. Before we had moved to the bed, I had begun to fight with myself in my head, arguing for and against some pain medication as the intensity of contractions built. But as soon as I was enveloped in the soothing water those thoughts melted away - the weightlessness and warmth made the contractions exponentially easier to cope through. In the water, my need to vocalize was much less, and my team remarked that they hardly knew when I was contracting - I sat mostly still and fairly quiet between and during each contraction for quite a while. In our peaceful, darkened room, soft music played in the background and labor took over my whole self.

After a few minutes, my midwife suggested changing positions to keep things moving along; I shifted from sitting with my back against the side of the tub to leaning over the edge into Husby's lap. He put a pillow down for me to rest my head, and lightly rubbed my head and arms.

Rocking felt better than being still now, and the movement of the water worked with me to keep a steady rhythm both in and around my contractions. I was told that I could try a mini-push at the peak of a contraction just to see what happened; I tried a couple of times, but the heat of the water was overwhelming and we knew I needed to get out to cool off.

In between what were now very powerful contractions, Husby and my midwife help me move to the bed. I knelt facing the back, my arms draped over the raised head, and tried to push through a few more contractions. The intensity was overwhelming, and I couldn't get on top of my contractions long enough to push effectively.

I heard myself ask if they could just pull her out since I couldn't do it, and then Husby's voice was in my ear reminding me that I was doing it, and she was so close. The team was trying to talk me through flipping over to see if I could push better on my back or side, but before I could process what was being said I had repositioned myself to lay on my left side, just as I had ended up with Eli. My pushes were much more productive this way, and soon I was being alerted to her impending exit. I could feel her descending  but it felt like she was moving much slower than I wanted her to; I stepped up my pushing, and was quickly warned to slow down. There were oils and compresses being applied to help lessen the sting of stretching, but the pressure of her head was too much and I couldn't keep from pushing for very long. Her head slowly emerged, and everyone cheered - except for me, who didn't feel any of the much anticipated relief. One, and then two, agonizing pushes later, her shoulders were born, and then the rest of her in one massive, final push. 

We had been out of the tub for less than 10 minutes, and my baby girl was being placed in my arms. The bliss! The joy! The hilarity of double-checking to see that my girl was, in fact, a girl! "My girl! There's my girl!" was all I could say, and she snuggled into me, all covered in vernix and slippery and wonderful. Her Daddy kissed my forehead, telling me he was so proud of me. "We did it," I whispered to him. "She's here." The look in his eyes said it all - we were both overjoyed and relieved.

Her color was beautiful, and her cries were strong. Husby cut her cord after it had stopped pulsing, and she stayed with me until I began to shiver. I handed her off to snuggle her Daddy while piles of warm blankets were brought in to help me regulate my temperature.

Her placenta was delivered with one small push, and my bleeding was under control with very little help from massage, so I was bundled up and soon had my girl back in my arms.

This was it. We had a daughter. We were a family of five. And we couldn't have been happier.

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Photos courtesy of our wonderful doulas:
Sister Doulas - Kaitlin & Vanessa Manville

Midwife: Aliza Chkaiban

Hospital: Baylor - McKinney

Announcing: Baby Sister

The Birth of a Brother

Having arrived at the BirthCare Center for a 7am induction, we went over the birth plan with our doula, MissJ, one last time as the nurse started my IV. Four attempts and a sore arm later, I was hooked up to 500cc of fluid - two veins had blown before the nurse changed over to a smaller catheter and was able to finally get a working connection. She was trying to make things as comfortable as possible for me, but wanted to try again for the larger needle once I was re-hydrated; I was in no mood for more sticks and ready to get things going.

By 8:45am, I was adequately hydrated and able to be unhooked from the fluid lines. My doctor arrived for the induction, and when informed about the trouble we had getting an IV started joked that we would have had an easier time if I had heroin track marks for them to follow. He asked the nurse for his 'fresh stick from the tree out back' with which to break my water - his sense of humor put the room at ease.

Hoping to help speed things along, we went for a walk around the building. But as had been the case for the last few weeks, as long as I was up and moving my contractions were light and easy. Back in the room, I decided to rest in a chair for a few minutes, and before I knew it I was having some pretty strong contractions.

This can't be the real thing yet, we're just getting started. Wait it out, it's only going to get worse.

I didn't last very long sitting by myself - soon I was asking that Husby be nearer, holding me and helping me breathe through each contraction. We had talked about using the bath tub to help relax when things got tough, and before we hit 10 o'clock I was ready to get in. I let go of Husby just long enough for him to get into his trunks (in case he needed to get into the water with me), and settled into the warm tub. With the hand-held shower head pointed at my belly I was able to work through contractions fairly effectively.

Down the hall, another laboring mother coded, and our nurse was pulled to help bring her back. She returned a little shaken, and asked me to re-consider the larger IV catheter 'just in case', since the small one I had wouldn't allow quick administration of drugs should it become necessary. For her sake, I decided to give it another try since my veins should be more cooperative after the fluid I was administered. A young anesthesiologist was sent to do the sticking, since they were supposed to be better at finding good veins quickly.

Just hold on, work through this one contraction and she'll be done. You can do this.

Two failed sticks later, she was annoyed with my being in the tub since it made things harder on her. Contraction after contraction kept me from being able to communicate.

Make her stop! Someone make her stop and get her out of here!

As I finally caught a break from contractions, MissJ reminded me that I could tell her to stop anytime. "No more" was all I could utter as I pulled my arm away from her.

"Are you ready for your epidural now?" Her snotty voice made me want to scream, but my energy was needed elsewhere.

"No. Get out."

I was starting to shiver in the tub, so we decided to get a seat for me to sit up on and get more of my body under the shower. Half way out of the tub another contraction hit me and I landed harder than intended on the seat; it flipped sideways and fell into the tub, taking me with it. I didn't have the will to try again, so a warm blanket was brought in to put over me in the water; Husby and MissJ poured and sprayed water over me and on my belly to keep me from freezing and help me relax.

After about a hour and a half, the intensity of the contractions was really starting to effect my thoughts.

I can't take this if it's just going to get worse.

I heard myself asking for drugs.

Wait! That's not what I want! Don't give me drugs! I can do this!

Husby could see the panic in my eyes, and asked me if I wanted to be checked (we had agreed ahead of time that we would take this first, smaller step before hooking up to any pain meds).

Yes! That's what I mean! I don't want drugs, I just want to know where I am!

To be checked, I had to be in the bed - which meant I had to get out of the tub. Towels and blankets were readied to dry me off and keep me warm, and we waited until a contraction was over to start moving. No sooner did my feet hit the floor than a huge contraction hit, and I went limp. With MissJ in front of me and Husby behind they managed to keep me from hitting the floor until I could support myself again and make my way to the bed.

I needed to lay on my back in the bed, but only made it up onto my hands and knees before another contraction hit. The nurse tried anyway, and thought I was about at 7cm, but asked me to try to roll over so she could be sure. A couple more contractions passed before I could move, but once I was settled she confirmed that I was already almost at 8cm.

That can't be right. We haven't been doing this long enough.

My brain knew that we were already in Transition, the hardest but shortest part of labor, just before the pushing stage. But my mind was reeling with the intensity of the contractions, and I again heard myself asking for something to take the edge off. MissJ was ready with the suggestion of Stadol, which wouldn't make the contractions themselves less intense but would give me more of a break in between to catch my breath and relax - it was the one thing I had considered beforehand, and was prepared to accept if needed given it's minimal effects on the baby. Since I was already so far along (and just wouldn't admit it to myself), my doctor would only approve a quarter of the usual dose. Administered during a contraction to further lessen it's effect on the baby, I felt it almost immediately - as long as I kept my eyes open I was alert, but as soon as I let them close I started to doze when I wasn't contracting. Thanks to the Stadol, I was allowed about a half an hour of 'rest' before the real work began.

The contractions started coming three and four at a time, and I was having to really work to get through each one. To cope with the intensity, I had been breathing low and started vocalizing with my exhales. As the intensity rose, and my breaks shortened (the Stadol was wearing off), my vocalizations began to get higher and tighter. Reminding me to focus low and slow my breathing, MissJ could see that we needed a change and suggested using a squat bar.

Once I was upright, Baby flipped himself around to face upwards, causing intense back labor. MissJ moved around behind me to help support and put counter pressure where I was hurting. Husby moved in front of me to help hold me up, and my eyes locked on his just as one of my toughest contractions hit. My vocalizations were high and tight as my body fought against me.

Don't freak out. If you freak out, he'll freak out, and we need him to not freak out.

His calm voice brought me back: "You can do this. I'm right here. You're doing so well."

My legs no longer able to support me, I laid back on MissJ, who's knee happened to land just at the point in my back that needed counter pressure. I had planned to rest for only a moment but ended up staying there for quite a few contractions. A second nurse appeared and began preparing tables and instruments; I heard myself asking what she was doing, and was told that she was setting up for delivery.

She's got to be crazy. She has no idea that we just got here. We are so not ready to have this baby.

The idea of readying for the birth, along with the rising intensity of contractions, began to overwhelm me and I again asked to be checked. Our nurse was out of the room, so the second nurse stopped her setting up and came over to see how far I was. She measured me at about 8cm, essentially the same as I had been an hour before. I was disappointed to say the least.

We're not even progressing! What does she think she's doing setting up all that stuff? Now I have to stare at useless tables for hours!

When she returned, our nurse held a fetal monitor to my belly and detected decels in Baby's heart rate. She helped me move to lay on my left side to alleviate some stress on him - in an instant, my contractions changed. Up to this point, I was able to focus on being open and relaxed with each contraction. Now, when I tried to be open, my body started pushing on it's own. Since I knew I wasn't to 10cm yet, I tried to pull back and keep from pushing, but it only made things more intense. When a contraction ended, I tried to tell Husby and MissJ that I couldn't stop myself from pushing. I looked up to find my doctor walking in to check on us. He quickly slipped his gloves on to check me; he felt merely a rim, but said I could easily push past what was left, and that was all I needed to hear.

Here we go. Deep breaths. Holy cow, we're going to have a baby.

With the next contraction, I pushed with intent. Being able to feel what I was doing, I could focus my energy where I knew it was effective. As I felt Baby descend, my doctor helped him to turn back into an easier position; I gripped Husby's hand a little tighter. His voice encouraged me that I was making progress, and with MissJ's help I repositioned myself for the birth.

Through two or three contractions I pushed continuously, and before I really knew what was happening, my son was born. LittleE joined us at 1:27pm, weighing 8lbs 13oz and measuring 20 inches long. Placed immediately on my chest, he looked up at us, his parents, for the first time, and my heart swelled.

Impending Birth

It's 4:45 on Friday morning, and I can't sleep because the child in my belly will very soon be out. Grandma snores in the living room, ready to take over Toddler duty as Husby and I venture off to the hospital's birthing center. We had planned to go into labor naturally, on our own, but lately my blood pressure, protein, and sugar numbers have been concerning, and my doctor has scheduled us for an induction this morning for our safety. Technically, today is our 39th week & 4th day of this pregnancy (although if you count by my dates instead of the ultrasound, we're really at 41 weeks & 5 days), making it reasonable to ask Baby Boy to leave his current residence and enter the world with the rest of us. Nervously excited, I sit here typing in the dark while Husby catches a few more minutes of sleep. In just a few more hours, I'll be able to sit back and marvel as my husband holds his second son for the first time.

Birth Plans

In preparations for Baby Boy's impending arrival, Husby and I have been taking classes and reading up on all things natural. Both startling and surprising are the facts that surround that way babies are born, especially in our 'educated' nation. Arming ourselves with a knowledgeable, experienced birth team, and taking the time to research all possibilities and options, we're confident that this birth will be quite different (and safer for both Momma and Baby) than our first. While RJ's birth seemed perfectly normal at the time (and, in deed, it was 'normal' by American standards), we've since learned much more about how childbirth is supposed to happen - naturally - and are hopeful that we'll be able to put that knowledge to work for us in the coming weeks. We've found a wonderfully supportive doctor and hospital, have hired a Doula to assist us in labor, and wrote out our birth plan to help guide us to the birth experience we desire. And while we know that things can change as we go along - even up to the last few moments of pregnancy - we pray that we'll be able to follow through with our plans and deliver a healthy baby boy in the end.

Bradley Birth

In preparation for the birth of our second child, Husby and I have been doing quite a bit of research. Looking back, there were many things about RJ's birth that could have - and should have - been done differently. Most of the decisions we the first time around were uneducated (even though we thought we were informed). Our labor was induced, and epidural was administered, I pushed for 3 hours, and ultimately a vacuum was used to assist in the delivery. At the time, these things we presented to us as both normal and safe. Now that we've done more research and educated ourselves, we know this to be untrue.

Instead of a repeat performance (which would be perfectly acceptable from the viewpoint of the medical community), we're looking for a more natural birth this time around. I did an extensive amount of research into the options and methods available, and came upon the Bradley Method. I had heard about it from other Christian parents, and was intrigued; after looking into it further, we decided that it looked like the best course for us and we signed up to take the classes.

This evening was our second class session, and so far we are thrilled with the method. Dr. Bradley, who 'invented' the method, comes at things from a simple, Godly perspective, making the whole process easier to understand and much, much less frightening. We're getting lots of good, useful information, and are excited to continue in our learning. The method is deemed "husband-coached childbirth", teaching husbands and wives to work together through labor and birth, strengthening their relationship and creating the safest environment for their child.

As we read through the books and attend classes, we're taking notes and posting them under the "Our Birth Method" tab you'll find at the top of the page. Interested parties, feel free to browse through.

Birth Options

This baby's birth approaches, and while I continue to tell myself that we have plenty of time to prepare, the time of preparations is upon us. As I prepare myself for the delivery of another child, I look back at the experience we had bringing RJ into the world and find myself wondering if all the drugs I had were really necessary. After all, women have been birthing babies for thousands of years - there's got to be something better than hooked up to machines, laying in bed, waiting for a stranger to tell me what to do.

Enter friends who've delivered naturally. With these women to answer my questions and reassure me that my body can, in fact, handle this, I've set out on a course toward a (more) natural birth. In Kansas, where we'll be in a matter of weeks, I found an instructor in the Bradley Method who I plan to contact upon our arrival. Hopefully, Husby and I will be able to find an hour or so a week without RJ (ha!) to meet with her and learn all the things that can help us work together to birth this child. While I'm not completely opposed to pain meds (lets face it, I'm a bit of a wimp), I would like to make it farther on my own and maybe even avoid an epidural.

By no means do I make any promises, other than to have a healthy baby in the end, but I want to give myself more options this time around. This could all be a total failure, but a girl can at least try, right?

Three Months Old

Three months ago today, our lives were changed forever. And for the better.

We arrived at the hospital at 5am to be admitted for induction. Husby wanted one last photo of me with the belly:

(Please ignore the grotesquely swollen feet)

They started me on Pitocin at about 6am. I was already regularly (but mildly) contracting on my own, and by 8am my contractions were pretty strong; we decided to go for an Epidura at 9am, after which the doctor broke my water. Labor progressed fairly quickly, and we were ready to start pushing at about 2pm. 

Little Man finally joined us at 5:15pm.

7 lbs. 5 oz.     19 inches

A family of three.

Now, three months into parenthood, we are head-over-heals for our little guy. How much better does it get?
Check him out:

Wait ... how old am I?

Oh, yeah! 3 months! Yay!

Hey ... are there presents for this birthday?

Please, Momma ... I'm being a good boy ...

Momma's heart just melts. Can you handle the adorableness?