The month of January is jam-packed full of birthdays including the boys' and mine. Since Samara doesn't want to be left out, she has started telling us what she wants for her birthday (it isn't until Sept!) She doesn't want much except:
" Mr. Incredibles Daddy
Mr. Incredibles Mommy
Mr. Incredibles Boy
Mr. Incredibles Girl
Mr. Incredibles boots
Mr. Incredibles mask
Sleeping 'Booty' (Beauty) dress
Sleeping 'Booty' shoes
Sleeping 'Booty' cape
Pocahontas dress
John Smith (from Pocahontas)"
I have a feeling this list is just going to get longer and longer and . . .
Showing posts with label birthdays. Show all posts
Showing posts with label birthdays. Show all posts
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
Isaiah's Birth Story
And finally, it's time for me to tell Isaiah's story. Isn't it amazing just how different each story is? I love to hear other women's account of bringing life into the world.
Spring of 2006. Malachi was 3 months old. I had returned to work and had started an 8-5 M-F nursing job. It was very difficult to have enough time to pump regularly so I decided to make the switch to just formula. As many nursing mothers know, before you can start taking birth control after breast feeding, you must first have a period. I had a period, but didn't make it into my OB/GYN in time to take a pregnancy test so they could prescribe my pills. I thought it wasn't a big deal since it had taken about 9 months to conceive Malachi. I'd wait until the next month; we'd just be careful.
It wasn't until mid-May that I was feeling extremely exhausted (falling asleep before 8pm) and slightly nauseous in the mornings. I didn't think too much about it because with working and having Malachi, I made up several reasons as to why I would feel this way. At work one day, some of the nurses told me they were pretty sure I was pregnant. I was super defensive that I couldn't be; I just couldn't be! I went to Walmart on my way home from work and picked up a Twin Pack because the first test would be negative and I would have a spare for when we were going to try for our 2nd kiddo. After coming home, I took the first test. Positive. NO WAY! NOOOO WAAAYYYY!!! Immediately, I popped out the 2nd test. (Because the first one had to be wrong!) Nope, positive again. I was overwhelmed. Malachi was now sleeping through the night; I was going to finish getting rid of the baby weight. Plus, it's slightly embarrassing to be a nurse and to have such a surprise child..."yes, Dad, I did take an OB class in nursing school and I do know where babies come from."
Of course, after the initial shock passed, I couldn't help but be excited. Was it a girl or a boy? Since I hadn't completely lost my previous pregnancy weight, I looked very pregnant early in this pregnancy. I'll never forget at merely 8 weeks along, a patient asked if I was due soon. Yeah, I really hope I answered that question appropriately ;-)
I credit not having to work 12-hour shifts at night as to why my pregnancy went much smoother than Malachi's. At every sonogram, this baby was sucking its thumb. I thought that was adorable! Malachi never was interested in a pacifer or thumb so I was kind of excited about this. Around the 28 week mark, I started having Braxton-Hicks contractions and a few weeks later, he dropped. At my 36 week appointment, I discovered that I was dilated to 5cm and 100% effaced. My doctor said that wherever my water broke was where I would deliver. He ordered me on bed rest for a week and then he would induce me. Of course, the following day I was supposed to have a baby shower at work, but I didn't get to make it.
The night before the induction my parents, sister, and bro-in-law came down. It's quite a different feeling going to bed knowing that the next day your little someone would be in your arms! I had to check-in at 5:30am. My parents came with James and I to the hospital and my sis and hubby stayed home and then took Malachi to daycare later in the morning. Since Malachi's birth took several hours, they thought there was plenty of time to get up there before the grand entrance of Baby #2 (as with Malachi, we didn't find out the gender).
6:00am Pitocin was on board. Oh I dreaded this drug! Mentally I had tried to prepare myself for a long labor with plenty of pushing. My OB/GYN doctor checked on me around 7:30ish (he seriously reminded me of Dr. Huxtable from The Cosby Show!). I was well on my way! He said that the nurse no longer needed to increase the Pitocin because I was progressing nicely. While that was wonderful news, I was nervous that not increasing it would somehow prolong the labor. James was able to once again get me in "the zone" so I could concentrate on digging deep within myself to ride out the horrendous pain. Because I had successfully given birth while on Pitocin and without any pain meds/epidurals, I knew that I could and yearned to do it again without any assistance.
Suddenly, I felt the urge to push. The nurse said that she had just checked me and I wasn't fully dilated, but she said she would check again. YES! I was dilated to a 10 and ready to meet our precious baby. I remember looking at the clock and was shocked that it was only 9:00am! The nurse had to page my doctor because he was at his office seeing patients. I kind of enjoyed being "that" patient that the doctor had to rush out to deliver =) Because he missed delivering Malachi, I really wanted him there. I had to resist the urge to push and the resident told me that if needed, he could deliver the baby. My doctor finally showed up (stupid road construction slowed him down). He prepped and then was ready for me to push. I pushed 3 times and at 9:30am out came Isaiah Mark!!! He greeted us by having a rather long peeing session that traveled quite the distance from what I was told. Isaiah settled down quickly by sucking his left thumb. His trademark. He weighed 8lb and was 19 1/2 inches long (yes, 8lb at 37 weeks!)
I was in awe of another beautiful, healthy boy. God is so good. My parents were loving on him when my sister and hubby arrived thinking that I would still be laboring. What a wonderful surprise for them! We stayed the night at the hospital and then came home mid-morning on Friday. It was a balmy 60 degrees, but there was a huge snow storm coming that night so we wanted to get settled in before its arrival. My family left and we were left at home to introduce Malachi to his new brother. Mind you, Malachi was only...drum roll please...12 months and 17 days old when Isaiah was born. He was as excited as someone that small could be.
Late the night, we noticed that our beloved cat, Bob, was not acting right. He was pretty lethargic and kept moaning. Finally around 11pm, he threw up a bright lime green color. I was extremely concerned. (Of course, I had given birth the day before so I was slightly more emotional than normal). I called the pet hospital in Wichita and they urged us to bring him in because it sounded very grave. The only real problem was that it was a blizzard outside. About a foot of snow/ice had fallen since early evening and the roads were not clear. James and I battled back and forth about it. Do we wait until morning? What if he doesn't make it until then? What if, what if? Finally at midnight, I loaded Bob up in the Escape and started out to Wichita. I could not forgive myself if we just watched and did nothing. James stayed home with the boys. What normally is a 45 minute drive took over 2 hours. There were times when I questioned my sanity, but Bob's moaning the whole way there was my motivation to get him help. Once I arrived, the vet told me that Bob had stones blocking his urinary tract and he needed surgery. When I called James to tell the diagnosis, treatment and cost, we were once again torn about what to do. But, I finally made the decision that he would get the surgery because it wouldn't be safe for me to drive home while sobbing over Bob's death. I left him there and drove another 2 hours home. It was worth it because Bob is still with us!
The transition between having 1 to 2 kiddos wasn't difficult. We started Isaiah on his routine and he thrived on it. He never lost any weight post delivery and weighed 12lbs on his actual due date. God knew that this boy needed to come out early! James' family lovingly called him "Tank" because he was such a stout infant/toddler. But don't let the outward appearance fool you. He has the sweetest heart, but has also struggled with being very stubborn and strong-willed, too. I don't remember exactly when, I know it was very young, but he became super-duper attached to "Bunny". Anyone who has spent any amount of time with him knows "Bunny" well. It's been Isaiah's best friend; they have shared almost every adventure together. There are very few pictures we have that doesn't include this precious stuffed animal. Of course, "Bunny" goes along with sucking his thumb.
I'm excited to see Isaiah blossom. He has so much to offer the world. Every day he says, "Mom, you're the best." To which I reply, "No, you're the best." He still wants to snuggle and is unbelievably animated when talking. His facial expressions crack me up.
Isaiah, you are going to be amazing in life. Remember, I'm your biggest cheerleader. Love you oodles and oodles!
Isaiah means "Salvation of God".
Spring of 2006. Malachi was 3 months old. I had returned to work and had started an 8-5 M-F nursing job. It was very difficult to have enough time to pump regularly so I decided to make the switch to just formula. As many nursing mothers know, before you can start taking birth control after breast feeding, you must first have a period. I had a period, but didn't make it into my OB/GYN in time to take a pregnancy test so they could prescribe my pills. I thought it wasn't a big deal since it had taken about 9 months to conceive Malachi. I'd wait until the next month; we'd just be careful.
It wasn't until mid-May that I was feeling extremely exhausted (falling asleep before 8pm) and slightly nauseous in the mornings. I didn't think too much about it because with working and having Malachi, I made up several reasons as to why I would feel this way. At work one day, some of the nurses told me they were pretty sure I was pregnant. I was super defensive that I couldn't be; I just couldn't be! I went to Walmart on my way home from work and picked up a Twin Pack because the first test would be negative and I would have a spare for when we were going to try for our 2nd kiddo. After coming home, I took the first test. Positive. NO WAY! NOOOO WAAAYYYY!!! Immediately, I popped out the 2nd test. (Because the first one had to be wrong!) Nope, positive again. I was overwhelmed. Malachi was now sleeping through the night; I was going to finish getting rid of the baby weight. Plus, it's slightly embarrassing to be a nurse and to have such a surprise child..."yes, Dad, I did take an OB class in nursing school and I do know where babies come from."
Of course, after the initial shock passed, I couldn't help but be excited. Was it a girl or a boy? Since I hadn't completely lost my previous pregnancy weight, I looked very pregnant early in this pregnancy. I'll never forget at merely 8 weeks along, a patient asked if I was due soon. Yeah, I really hope I answered that question appropriately ;-)
I credit not having to work 12-hour shifts at night as to why my pregnancy went much smoother than Malachi's. At every sonogram, this baby was sucking its thumb. I thought that was adorable! Malachi never was interested in a pacifer or thumb so I was kind of excited about this. Around the 28 week mark, I started having Braxton-Hicks contractions and a few weeks later, he dropped. At my 36 week appointment, I discovered that I was dilated to 5cm and 100% effaced. My doctor said that wherever my water broke was where I would deliver. He ordered me on bed rest for a week and then he would induce me. Of course, the following day I was supposed to have a baby shower at work, but I didn't get to make it.
The night before the induction my parents, sister, and bro-in-law came down. It's quite a different feeling going to bed knowing that the next day your little someone would be in your arms! I had to check-in at 5:30am. My parents came with James and I to the hospital and my sis and hubby stayed home and then took Malachi to daycare later in the morning. Since Malachi's birth took several hours, they thought there was plenty of time to get up there before the grand entrance of Baby #2 (as with Malachi, we didn't find out the gender).
6:00am Pitocin was on board. Oh I dreaded this drug! Mentally I had tried to prepare myself for a long labor with plenty of pushing. My OB/GYN doctor checked on me around 7:30ish (he seriously reminded me of Dr. Huxtable from The Cosby Show!). I was well on my way! He said that the nurse no longer needed to increase the Pitocin because I was progressing nicely. While that was wonderful news, I was nervous that not increasing it would somehow prolong the labor. James was able to once again get me in "the zone" so I could concentrate on digging deep within myself to ride out the horrendous pain. Because I had successfully given birth while on Pitocin and without any pain meds/epidurals, I knew that I could and yearned to do it again without any assistance.
Suddenly, I felt the urge to push. The nurse said that she had just checked me and I wasn't fully dilated, but she said she would check again. YES! I was dilated to a 10 and ready to meet our precious baby. I remember looking at the clock and was shocked that it was only 9:00am! The nurse had to page my doctor because he was at his office seeing patients. I kind of enjoyed being "that" patient that the doctor had to rush out to deliver =) Because he missed delivering Malachi, I really wanted him there. I had to resist the urge to push and the resident told me that if needed, he could deliver the baby. My doctor finally showed up (stupid road construction slowed him down). He prepped and then was ready for me to push. I pushed 3 times and at 9:30am out came Isaiah Mark!!! He greeted us by having a rather long peeing session that traveled quite the distance from what I was told. Isaiah settled down quickly by sucking his left thumb. His trademark. He weighed 8lb and was 19 1/2 inches long (yes, 8lb at 37 weeks!)
I was in awe of another beautiful, healthy boy. God is so good. My parents were loving on him when my sister and hubby arrived thinking that I would still be laboring. What a wonderful surprise for them! We stayed the night at the hospital and then came home mid-morning on Friday. It was a balmy 60 degrees, but there was a huge snow storm coming that night so we wanted to get settled in before its arrival. My family left and we were left at home to introduce Malachi to his new brother. Mind you, Malachi was only...drum roll please...12 months and 17 days old when Isaiah was born. He was as excited as someone that small could be.
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| Isaiah Mark at 1 Day Old |
The transition between having 1 to 2 kiddos wasn't difficult. We started Isaiah on his routine and he thrived on it. He never lost any weight post delivery and weighed 12lbs on his actual due date. God knew that this boy needed to come out early! James' family lovingly called him "Tank" because he was such a stout infant/toddler. But don't let the outward appearance fool you. He has the sweetest heart, but has also struggled with being very stubborn and strong-willed, too. I don't remember exactly when, I know it was very young, but he became super-duper attached to "Bunny". Anyone who has spent any amount of time with him knows "Bunny" well. It's been Isaiah's best friend; they have shared almost every adventure together. There are very few pictures we have that doesn't include this precious stuffed animal. Of course, "Bunny" goes along with sucking his thumb.
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| Our Little Tank with Grandma |
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| "Bunny" and Thumb While Watching Fireworks |
Isaiah, you are going to be amazing in life. Remember, I'm your biggest cheerleader. Love you oodles and oodles!
Isaiah means "Salvation of God".
Happy 5th Birthday, Isaiah!
And once again I'm reminded about how quickly time passes us by. Today was spent celebrating Isaiah's birthday; the big "5". He requested a SpongeBob cake (not my favorite character, but it's what he wanted.) I didn't have a mold for the cake and I'm NOT an artist (I can barely draw stick figures), but I found a simple cake design that I hope conveyed SpongeBob enough for him!
For dinner, we went to McDonald's and they enjoyed playing in the PlayPlace. Of course, a cheeseburger Happy Meal was on the menu! There was a little girl there who was obsessed with Isaiah and he took it all in stride. Finally, he told me that he was ready to go home to open presents and eat his cake. We gave him a SpongeBob hat and an "I Spy" memory game and book. Throughout the day, he received phone calls of family members calling to sing "Happy Birthday" and wish him well. He grinned from ear to ear; who doesn't enjoy being the center of attention?!?
With all of the hustle and bustle lately, I didn't have time to dwell on this monumental birthday like I did with Malachi. Or maybe I've seen that I can survive having kiddos 5 and older. That doesn't mean, though, that I'm ready to ship him off to school just yet. But on that note, while on his way to bed tonight, he did ask when I was going to take him school supply shopping. It may be a long few months while he awaits that fateful day. As for me, I'm not even mentally going there! Well, not until I absolutely have to.
Happy Birthday, Mr. Isaiah. You are loved and adored more than you can imagine!!!
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| The Birthday Boy and His Gang |
With all of the hustle and bustle lately, I didn't have time to dwell on this monumental birthday like I did with Malachi. Or maybe I've seen that I can survive having kiddos 5 and older. That doesn't mean, though, that I'm ready to ship him off to school just yet. But on that note, while on his way to bed tonight, he did ask when I was going to take him school supply shopping. It may be a long few months while he awaits that fateful day. As for me, I'm not even mentally going there! Well, not until I absolutely have to.
Happy Birthday, Mr. Isaiah. You are loved and adored more than you can imagine!!!
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
Birthing Day, Dance Class, and Birthday
The latter part of last week was bustling with activity. Late Thursday afternoon I got the call that Auntie Erin needed to report for duty because my sister was in labor!!! I rushed up to KC as quickly as I could, but was about 30 minutes too late for my little niece's arrival. Miss Sylvia Lois was born on 1/12/12 at 8:21pm and weighed 5lb 14 1/2 oz and was 18 1/2 inches long. Sara was 37 weeks along and had been progressing the past week so I wasn't at all surprised she went a tad early. Oh, Sylvia is just presh! It's amazing how such a teeny-tiny little baby can bring so much love and happiness to one's soul. She was just content to be held and snuggled. And Auntie Erin couldn't object to that!
Initially, I had planned on coming home on Friday, but decided to spend one more night and then get up before the sun on Saturday to come home. Friday was spent hanging out at the hospital and running some errands with my mommy. It had been a long time since I had been able to bum around with her so I truly enjoyed it. We also dropped by to see a dear friend who had a handsome baby boy last year, but I hadn't officially met him. "Mr. Bundles" is definitely a bundle of joy and it was so nice to see her little family!
Samara started her dance class on Friday. James and Isaiah took her. They practiced "Head and Shoulders, Knees and Toes", and some dance moves. She came out running to James declaring, "That was great!" I guess we'll go back again this week =)
Saturday was my birthday. It's the last year that I can be called a "20-something" year old. I definitely have mixed emotions about the looming birthday next year, but there's nothing I can do about it except to accept it so that's what I'm trying to do! My day started at 5:30am with my dad having a cup of coffee with me before I left. I had to rush home because even though we took our house off the market almost a month ago there were potential buyers who had seen it online while it was still listed and were at a point where they could start looking at a home to purchase. Even though it was my birthday I gave consent for them to view our house so I had to prepare for their visit. It's amazing how even a "clean" house can take 6 1/2 hours to get "show ready". I was definitely happy when we could get back home and enjoy the rest my birthday.
My parents gave me some necessities and fun things for organizing my big "Happy 30th Birthday" trip next year (folders, pen, fun plates for snacks which I will definitely need while researching the trip, etc). They also gave me a Tea Forte set. I'm definitely a coffee drinker, but I'm excited to try this out. My sister's family gave me a cozy, fleece jacket and a gift card to Starbucks which I enjoyed while I drove home early on Saturday! James gave me an Adele CD so I'll be jamming out to it in my car and around the house. The kiddos kept telling me "Happy Birthday" all day long and we enjoyed a pizza and cupcakes later that day.
What an incredible week and this week we will celebrate Isaiah's birthday. I am truly a blessed girl.
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| Proud Auntie Erin |
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| Sweet Mama Sara and Precious Sylvia |
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| My Mommy and Mr. Bundles |
Saturday was my birthday. It's the last year that I can be called a "20-something" year old. I definitely have mixed emotions about the looming birthday next year, but there's nothing I can do about it except to accept it so that's what I'm trying to do! My day started at 5:30am with my dad having a cup of coffee with me before I left. I had to rush home because even though we took our house off the market almost a month ago there were potential buyers who had seen it online while it was still listed and were at a point where they could start looking at a home to purchase. Even though it was my birthday I gave consent for them to view our house so I had to prepare for their visit. It's amazing how even a "clean" house can take 6 1/2 hours to get "show ready". I was definitely happy when we could get back home and enjoy the rest my birthday.
My parents gave me some necessities and fun things for organizing my big "Happy 30th Birthday" trip next year (folders, pen, fun plates for snacks which I will definitely need while researching the trip, etc). They also gave me a Tea Forte set. I'm definitely a coffee drinker, but I'm excited to try this out. My sister's family gave me a cozy, fleece jacket and a gift card to Starbucks which I enjoyed while I drove home early on Saturday! James gave me an Adele CD so I'll be jamming out to it in my car and around the house. The kiddos kept telling me "Happy Birthday" all day long and we enjoyed a pizza and cupcakes later that day.
What an incredible week and this week we will celebrate Isaiah's birthday. I am truly a blessed girl.
Monday, January 9, 2012
Birthday Celebrations, Karate, and Cute Shoes
As previously blogged about, Malachi's birthday was on New Year's. After spending a few days after Christmas with James' parents, the kiddos returned in the afternoon on Malachi's birthday. I was anxious to have our little people back and to celebrate his 6th birthday. The night before James baked the cake and then on Sunday I decorated it. Since they received Light Sabers for Christmas, I thought a "Star Wars" themed cake would be fun. A dear friend found the recipe for this cake and I executed it as best as this unprofessional could. The "Sabers" were made out of frosted Twinkies that were sprinkled with colored sugar granules. The handle was made out of chocolate ice cream cones. And the stars were melted Laffy Taffy pieces, rolled out and cut in the shape of the star. I did the best I could and both boys were pleased with the outcome (Before Malachi even saw the cake, he said it better be a Star Wars cake. Whew!)
Since Malachi couldn't celebrate his birthday with his classmates, I told him that he could bring cupcakes a few days after classes resumed. He was adament that the boys HAD to have blue cupcakes and the girls HAD to have pink cupcakes. Thursday night I asked him to get a headcount of how many boys and girls were in the class so we could make sure to frost enough of each color. Friday afternoon he came home with a print-out of his classmates names and then on the back of the paper he had counted how many boys vs girls and added the total number of cupcakes needed. Obsessed much?!? All weekend long he reminded me that after church we needed to get the cupcakes ready. Yes, sweet Malachi, Mommy would NOT dare to forget! So last night, I baked the cupcakes and he insisted on frosting the blue ones and I could do the yucky pink. Oh he was precious being so serious because you know cupcakes are quite the serious business when you're a 6 year old =)
This afternoon we made it a family affair and all of us went to his classroom so that we could participate in his class enjoying Malachi's birthday. It started off by Malachi standing on a chair while all of us kneeled on one knee and sang "Happy Birthday" to him. Then he chose a girl to help pass out the pink cupcakes because ewww! he couldn't touch that!!! Isaiah wanted to help, too, so I had him hold the pan for the little girl. All of the children had to wait until Malachi ate the first bite of his cupcake and then they could all enjoy their tasty treat. I also bought the crazy, swirly drinking straws that Malachi passed out as a little party favor. We ended the time by joining the class outside for their 3rd recess. James pushed Samara, Isaiah joined "Malachi's team", and I chit-chatted with Mrs. O. What an awesome afternoon!
We ended the day with the boys going to their first karate class. At first, Malachi didn't want to go, but we told him that he had to try it for a few times before deciding whether or not he wanted to keep at it. Of course, Isaiah was alllll about going. The teacher encouraged James to try the class out with them so he participated as well. Samara and I looked through the windows. James said that while Isaiah followed instructions he kept trying to talk quite a bit during the session. Isaiah a talker? No way! It will be interesting to see if they continue to pursue this or if they want to try other classes. Samara begins her dance class on Friday and I have no doubt she will love it...our little dancing queen!
As a complete side note, aren't these the cutest little shoes?!? I looked high and low for Samara's size (even checked online), but alas her feet are too big. Bummer.
This afternoon we made it a family affair and all of us went to his classroom so that we could participate in his class enjoying Malachi's birthday. It started off by Malachi standing on a chair while all of us kneeled on one knee and sang "Happy Birthday" to him. Then he chose a girl to help pass out the pink cupcakes because ewww! he couldn't touch that!!! Isaiah wanted to help, too, so I had him hold the pan for the little girl. All of the children had to wait until Malachi ate the first bite of his cupcake and then they could all enjoy their tasty treat. I also bought the crazy, swirly drinking straws that Malachi passed out as a little party favor. We ended the time by joining the class outside for their 3rd recess. James pushed Samara, Isaiah joined "Malachi's team", and I chit-chatted with Mrs. O. What an awesome afternoon!
We ended the day with the boys going to their first karate class. At first, Malachi didn't want to go, but we told him that he had to try it for a few times before deciding whether or not he wanted to keep at it. Of course, Isaiah was alllll about going. The teacher encouraged James to try the class out with them so he participated as well. Samara and I looked through the windows. James said that while Isaiah followed instructions he kept trying to talk quite a bit during the session. Isaiah a talker? No way! It will be interesting to see if they continue to pursue this or if they want to try other classes. Samara begins her dance class on Friday and I have no doubt she will love it...our little dancing queen!
As a complete side note, aren't these the cutest little shoes?!? I looked high and low for Samara's size (even checked online), but alas her feet are too big. Bummer.
Sunday, January 1, 2012
Malachi's Birth Story
Today Malachi turned 6 years old. It seems like only yesterday he was a newborn yet I really don't remember what life was like without him. Every birth story is special and unique and so I thought I would share our journey about Malachi.
The fall of 2004 I was a senior in college obtaining my Bachelor of Nursing degree. James and I had been married a little over a year and we were at a point where we thought it was a good time to start our family. We wanted to be young parents so that when the kiddos grew up we were still young enough to enjoy life. So I went off of birth control so we could possibly get pregnant. Months went by and no pregnancy. I started to get antsy because many other girls in my class were pregnant and as happy as I was for them, I yearned for my own.
Finally, the Tuesday after Mother's Day in May 2005 I realized that I was "late". Could it be? I waited until 6am the following morning and took the pregnancy test. The 2 pink lines appeared and I was overjoyed. I rushed into the bedroom where James was waiting. I jumped up and down and shared the joyous news. And in the humor only James has, he asked, "Well, is it mine?" I'm pretty sure I slugged him for that. We were both thrilled at the prospect of parenthood.
The first trimester was such a busy time. I graduated from college, studied and passed boards and went through orientation for my nursing job in CVICU at a large hospital in Wichita. I suffered with nausea most mornings and the normal fatigue. At week 14, I was receiving report at work and passed out, hitting my head on the edge of the counter. It was embarrassing, but I was fine. From then on, I made sure I ate more protein in the morning!
In late August, James' sister was going to graduate from the Army's Boot Camp in South Carolina. We decided that we wanted to make it so we made plans to drive down with his parents and little brother (who is taller than James which is important a little later in the story!) Initially, I wanted to fly down there because I was starting to get big and the thought of a 22-hour drive (one-way) just wasn't very appealing. But, to save money, I decided that I would tough it out. As with most new nurses, I was putting in my time working the night shift. I couldn't sleep very well during the day, but I did the best I could. I worked the night before we left and took a short nap before James and I drove up to Salina to meet up with his parents and brother.
His parents owned a minivan with a middle bench seat and a back bench seat. I thought that the boys could share a bench while I stretched out on the other bench. But when we arrived in Salina, I was in for a rude awakening. The middle bench was folded down so that the suitcases and coolers could be stored there. The back seat was reserved for James, Jason and preggo me. Are you feeling my pain yet? Yes, it was as uncomfortable as you can imagine. I was smashed by the window with a belly that wouldn't move. We needed to make good time, though, because there was an impeding storm called Hurricane Katrina that was going to affect our route.
I tried to nap as much as I could. Around midnight, it was my turn to drive. James was my co-pilot. After about an hour of driving, James was fast asleep and I started to drive into horrendous rain and wind (aka Katrina). It was pitch black and my knuckles were white from holding onto the wheel. On the radio, all they were talking about was the magnitude of the storm and the impact it had already had. By daylight, James woke up and I was super eager to let someone else drive. Everyone felt bad that they slept through the storm while I was left to drive through it. We finally made it to our destination and enjoyed hanging out with Kristen. The rest of the trip was uneventful, thank goodness!
Around week 18, we had a sonogram. James made the request that we not find out the sex of the baby. He said there were few good surprises in life and this was one of the them. It was hard not to look, but I wanted to honor his wish so it was going to stay a surprise. (We found out with Samara and even though it's hard not to know, I prefer waiting until their arrival. To me it's more special) It seemed like it was going to be a normal pregnancy.
However, at week 24, I started spotting. The first time it happened I was getting ready to go in for my 12 hour shift. I called the doctor's office in a panic and they told me to stay home and be on bed rest until I could get in for a sonogram the next day. In tears, I called the charge nurse to let her know and she was so supportive and understanding. The next afternoon I went for a sonogram and it was discovered I had an "incompetent cervix" or as James lovingly called it my "retarded cervix". This meant that my cervix would have a hard time not dilating early and the chances of going full term were slimmer. My OB/GYN suggested that if I wanted to continue to work, then I should work no more than 8 hours/shift. I was so fortunate that my boss was willing to let me have the hours of 11pm-7am.
For the next few weeks, it seemed like my cervix was holding up, but at 31 1/2 weeks, I had more spotting and was dilated to a 3 and was already 50% effaced. I was put on strict bed rest. Of course, this had to fall right before the Holiday season! It was a long 4 1/2 weeks, but I made it through and was able to go back a few days before Christmas. I was under the impression that maybe if I worked a few shifts then I would go into labor before the end of the year (tax purposes, ya know ;-) ). James and I went on long, cold December walks before I left for my shifts. But nothing seemed to be working! During one few of my final shifts, there was a male nurse who also was a farmer. He got on the unit intercom around midnight one night and said that he was looking at a farming catalog and he could order cow forceps and a gallon of lubrication and slide the baby right on out. All the staff were busting up laughing. If only that would work...
On New Year's Eve, I went in for my 3rd and last shift of the week. I was desperate to pop this child out! I was helping to pull patients up in their beds even if they didn't look like they necessarily needed it. I was squatting every chance I could. I had been having Braxton Hicks contractions since week 28. I was so used to some sort of contractions I was hoping my water would break because I was scared I wouldn't be able to tell the difference between the contractions. My shift came and went and no labor. I drudged back home and rolled into bed around 9am. James was fast asleep. At 11am, I rolled over, my back to the bedroom door. Immediately, I felt the urge to go pee. I quickly decided that since I had JUST moved away from the door, I could hold it a few minutes before attempting to get up. Not more than 30 seconds later, I felt what I thought was pee streaming down. I hopped out of bed as quickly as a 38 week preggo woman could. Completely and utterly embarrassed at wetting the bed and dreading having to tell James because I was pretty sure I wouldn't live it down. But, very quickly I realized that this was my water!
I shouted at James to get up because my water broke. He rolled over and asked if he could sleep for a few more hours. Uhh, no mister, get yourself out of bed and drive me to the hospital!!!! He (very slowly in my opinion) hopped in the shower while I called my parents to tell them the news. My dad answered the phone and caught me off guard with his response to the news of my water breaking. He asked, "Well, what does that mean?" Hadn't my dad gone through this TWO times before?!? "Dad, it means the baby is coming today!". "Oh. Your mom is in the shower. I'll tell her." Little did I know that they, along with my sister and brother-in-law, had quite enjoyed their New Year's Eve and were a little slow at getting around the next day.
At long last, we were in the Escape on our way to the hospital. James hadn't eaten so he stopped at Sonic to grab a bite. He wanted me to eat, too, but since it was my normal sleeping time, I had zero appetite. We arrived at the hospital. Yes, my water indeed broke (duh!) and soon I was settled in our room. Of course, with it being New Year's, my OB/GYN had the day off. I was bummed, but the thought of holding my little bundle outweighed my disappointment. The attending told me that my contractions weren't causing me to dilate any further and so they were going to start Pitocin. The devil's drug, the dreaded "P" word. James and I had both been adamant about having a natural birth, free from pain killers, epidurals, etc. We had read about the Bradley method and felt like we could deliver naturally by using some of the techniques it taught. But with the use of Pitocin, would I really be able to withstand the natural contractions along with the medicine-induced contractions?
Within the span of 30-45 minutes of having Pitocin on board, my mood had changed. I no longer was laughing/joking. Mentally, I had sunken deep into myself so that I could totally concentrate on the task at hand. James sat by me, holding my hand, caressing my face and talking me through each painful contraction. My mom was on the other side with cold clothes for my forehead to help with the waves of nausea I was experiencing. There was a point during the labor, I thought that I couldn't possibly go any further without an epidural. I wasn't able to have any breaks between contractions because of the Pitocin. But I so wanted to deliver our child the way we had envisioned it and that thought allowed me to press on. (I later discovered that it was around the same time that James also thought that maybe I should get an epidural, but he didn't want to come across that he had doubts about me being able to deliver so he didn't mention it).
Approximately 5 hours after starting the Pitocin (and still only going on 2 hours of sleep), I felt the urge to push. Oh sweet relief. Most of my friends had only pushed for a few minutes before their baby came so surely my delivery would be about the same, right? The doctor and resident came in along with a host of other personnel. I was so ready to meet our child. Was it a Malachi or a Samara? Oh the anticipation! James and the nurse were talking me through my pushing/breathing cycles, holding my legs. The doctors were trying to coach me on where exactly to push. And I pushed, and pushed. I didn't scream like other women I heard. I was determined to use all of my strength to bring this child into the world. But what was taking soooo long? I was starting to panic inside because I didn't know how much longer I could physically endure the labor without sleep.
And then an hour and 10 minutes after the initial push, Malachi Luke Dinkel entered this world. James gasped, "It's a boy!" His eyes were moist from the tears he had when looking at his son for the first time. A boy. How perfect. He was an even 7lb and 19 1/2 inches long. Born at 7:10pm. He was precious. My parents and sister and brother-in-law met him and then wearily drove back to KC. That first night was spent with Malachi laying in between James and I while we stared at him and talked about our incredible journey to parenthood. Then one of us would pick him up and kiss that precious face. Oh and that newborn smell. Ahh, wish I could bottle that smell up forever.
We stayed in the hospital for 2 days. James' parents, sister and younger brother visited us the day after his birth. His older brother met Malachi after we got home. We juggled with trying to figure out each cry meant. Malachi started to wake up every 30 minutes and we were so exhausted. At our 2 week check-up, our doctor suggested the "Baby Wise" book. It talks about having your baby on a strict routine: eat time, play time, bed time. Bed time required you to just lay the baby down while they are awake and they will soothe themselves to sleep. At first, I was apprehensive because it went against everything we had heard about demand feeding and rocking the baby to sleep. But nothing else seemed to be working so we gave it a chance. Since Malachi didn't start out with being on a routine, it took him about 2 weeks for him to get used to it. Once he did, though, it was amazing. I knew exactly when he was going to eat, sleep, etc. I could actually plan my day and it would normally go according to plan. And Malachi was a much happier, easy-going baby. For us, the routine was a lifesaver and we implemented it right away with Isaiah and Samara and the transition went seamlessly with them.
Malachi has truly been a pleasure to call our own. His sweet, caring nature is heartwarming. He doesn't shower us with hugs and kisses, but when he gives them, it brightens the worst day. Out of the 3 kiddos, he is the most laid-back, obedient one. (maybe it's a first born thing). While it's sad to see him grow up so quickly, I'm excited to see the young man he is turning into. Malachi, you are such an awesome dude. I am honored that God chose me to be your mommy =)
Happy Birthday!
The fall of 2004 I was a senior in college obtaining my Bachelor of Nursing degree. James and I had been married a little over a year and we were at a point where we thought it was a good time to start our family. We wanted to be young parents so that when the kiddos grew up we were still young enough to enjoy life. So I went off of birth control so we could possibly get pregnant. Months went by and no pregnancy. I started to get antsy because many other girls in my class were pregnant and as happy as I was for them, I yearned for my own.
Finally, the Tuesday after Mother's Day in May 2005 I realized that I was "late". Could it be? I waited until 6am the following morning and took the pregnancy test. The 2 pink lines appeared and I was overjoyed. I rushed into the bedroom where James was waiting. I jumped up and down and shared the joyous news. And in the humor only James has, he asked, "Well, is it mine?" I'm pretty sure I slugged him for that. We were both thrilled at the prospect of parenthood.
The first trimester was such a busy time. I graduated from college, studied and passed boards and went through orientation for my nursing job in CVICU at a large hospital in Wichita. I suffered with nausea most mornings and the normal fatigue. At week 14, I was receiving report at work and passed out, hitting my head on the edge of the counter. It was embarrassing, but I was fine. From then on, I made sure I ate more protein in the morning!
In late August, James' sister was going to graduate from the Army's Boot Camp in South Carolina. We decided that we wanted to make it so we made plans to drive down with his parents and little brother (who is taller than James which is important a little later in the story!) Initially, I wanted to fly down there because I was starting to get big and the thought of a 22-hour drive (one-way) just wasn't very appealing. But, to save money, I decided that I would tough it out. As with most new nurses, I was putting in my time working the night shift. I couldn't sleep very well during the day, but I did the best I could. I worked the night before we left and took a short nap before James and I drove up to Salina to meet up with his parents and brother.
His parents owned a minivan with a middle bench seat and a back bench seat. I thought that the boys could share a bench while I stretched out on the other bench. But when we arrived in Salina, I was in for a rude awakening. The middle bench was folded down so that the suitcases and coolers could be stored there. The back seat was reserved for James, Jason and preggo me. Are you feeling my pain yet? Yes, it was as uncomfortable as you can imagine. I was smashed by the window with a belly that wouldn't move. We needed to make good time, though, because there was an impeding storm called Hurricane Katrina that was going to affect our route.
I tried to nap as much as I could. Around midnight, it was my turn to drive. James was my co-pilot. After about an hour of driving, James was fast asleep and I started to drive into horrendous rain and wind (aka Katrina). It was pitch black and my knuckles were white from holding onto the wheel. On the radio, all they were talking about was the magnitude of the storm and the impact it had already had. By daylight, James woke up and I was super eager to let someone else drive. Everyone felt bad that they slept through the storm while I was left to drive through it. We finally made it to our destination and enjoyed hanging out with Kristen. The rest of the trip was uneventful, thank goodness!
Around week 18, we had a sonogram. James made the request that we not find out the sex of the baby. He said there were few good surprises in life and this was one of the them. It was hard not to look, but I wanted to honor his wish so it was going to stay a surprise. (We found out with Samara and even though it's hard not to know, I prefer waiting until their arrival. To me it's more special) It seemed like it was going to be a normal pregnancy.
However, at week 24, I started spotting. The first time it happened I was getting ready to go in for my 12 hour shift. I called the doctor's office in a panic and they told me to stay home and be on bed rest until I could get in for a sonogram the next day. In tears, I called the charge nurse to let her know and she was so supportive and understanding. The next afternoon I went for a sonogram and it was discovered I had an "incompetent cervix" or as James lovingly called it my "retarded cervix". This meant that my cervix would have a hard time not dilating early and the chances of going full term were slimmer. My OB/GYN suggested that if I wanted to continue to work, then I should work no more than 8 hours/shift. I was so fortunate that my boss was willing to let me have the hours of 11pm-7am.
For the next few weeks, it seemed like my cervix was holding up, but at 31 1/2 weeks, I had more spotting and was dilated to a 3 and was already 50% effaced. I was put on strict bed rest. Of course, this had to fall right before the Holiday season! It was a long 4 1/2 weeks, but I made it through and was able to go back a few days before Christmas. I was under the impression that maybe if I worked a few shifts then I would go into labor before the end of the year (tax purposes, ya know ;-) ). James and I went on long, cold December walks before I left for my shifts. But nothing seemed to be working! During one few of my final shifts, there was a male nurse who also was a farmer. He got on the unit intercom around midnight one night and said that he was looking at a farming catalog and he could order cow forceps and a gallon of lubrication and slide the baby right on out. All the staff were busting up laughing. If only that would work...
On New Year's Eve, I went in for my 3rd and last shift of the week. I was desperate to pop this child out! I was helping to pull patients up in their beds even if they didn't look like they necessarily needed it. I was squatting every chance I could. I had been having Braxton Hicks contractions since week 28. I was so used to some sort of contractions I was hoping my water would break because I was scared I wouldn't be able to tell the difference between the contractions. My shift came and went and no labor. I drudged back home and rolled into bed around 9am. James was fast asleep. At 11am, I rolled over, my back to the bedroom door. Immediately, I felt the urge to go pee. I quickly decided that since I had JUST moved away from the door, I could hold it a few minutes before attempting to get up. Not more than 30 seconds later, I felt what I thought was pee streaming down. I hopped out of bed as quickly as a 38 week preggo woman could. Completely and utterly embarrassed at wetting the bed and dreading having to tell James because I was pretty sure I wouldn't live it down. But, very quickly I realized that this was my water!
I shouted at James to get up because my water broke. He rolled over and asked if he could sleep for a few more hours. Uhh, no mister, get yourself out of bed and drive me to the hospital!!!! He (very slowly in my opinion) hopped in the shower while I called my parents to tell them the news. My dad answered the phone and caught me off guard with his response to the news of my water breaking. He asked, "Well, what does that mean?" Hadn't my dad gone through this TWO times before?!? "Dad, it means the baby is coming today!". "Oh. Your mom is in the shower. I'll tell her." Little did I know that they, along with my sister and brother-in-law, had quite enjoyed their New Year's Eve and were a little slow at getting around the next day.
At long last, we were in the Escape on our way to the hospital. James hadn't eaten so he stopped at Sonic to grab a bite. He wanted me to eat, too, but since it was my normal sleeping time, I had zero appetite. We arrived at the hospital. Yes, my water indeed broke (duh!) and soon I was settled in our room. Of course, with it being New Year's, my OB/GYN had the day off. I was bummed, but the thought of holding my little bundle outweighed my disappointment. The attending told me that my contractions weren't causing me to dilate any further and so they were going to start Pitocin. The devil's drug, the dreaded "P" word. James and I had both been adamant about having a natural birth, free from pain killers, epidurals, etc. We had read about the Bradley method and felt like we could deliver naturally by using some of the techniques it taught. But with the use of Pitocin, would I really be able to withstand the natural contractions along with the medicine-induced contractions?
Within the span of 30-45 minutes of having Pitocin on board, my mood had changed. I no longer was laughing/joking. Mentally, I had sunken deep into myself so that I could totally concentrate on the task at hand. James sat by me, holding my hand, caressing my face and talking me through each painful contraction. My mom was on the other side with cold clothes for my forehead to help with the waves of nausea I was experiencing. There was a point during the labor, I thought that I couldn't possibly go any further without an epidural. I wasn't able to have any breaks between contractions because of the Pitocin. But I so wanted to deliver our child the way we had envisioned it and that thought allowed me to press on. (I later discovered that it was around the same time that James also thought that maybe I should get an epidural, but he didn't want to come across that he had doubts about me being able to deliver so he didn't mention it).
Approximately 5 hours after starting the Pitocin (and still only going on 2 hours of sleep), I felt the urge to push. Oh sweet relief. Most of my friends had only pushed for a few minutes before their baby came so surely my delivery would be about the same, right? The doctor and resident came in along with a host of other personnel. I was so ready to meet our child. Was it a Malachi or a Samara? Oh the anticipation! James and the nurse were talking me through my pushing/breathing cycles, holding my legs. The doctors were trying to coach me on where exactly to push. And I pushed, and pushed. I didn't scream like other women I heard. I was determined to use all of my strength to bring this child into the world. But what was taking soooo long? I was starting to panic inside because I didn't know how much longer I could physically endure the labor without sleep.
And then an hour and 10 minutes after the initial push, Malachi Luke Dinkel entered this world. James gasped, "It's a boy!" His eyes were moist from the tears he had when looking at his son for the first time. A boy. How perfect. He was an even 7lb and 19 1/2 inches long. Born at 7:10pm. He was precious. My parents and sister and brother-in-law met him and then wearily drove back to KC. That first night was spent with Malachi laying in between James and I while we stared at him and talked about our incredible journey to parenthood. Then one of us would pick him up and kiss that precious face. Oh and that newborn smell. Ahh, wish I could bottle that smell up forever.
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| Our New Family! |
Malachi has truly been a pleasure to call our own. His sweet, caring nature is heartwarming. He doesn't shower us with hugs and kisses, but when he gives them, it brightens the worst day. Out of the 3 kiddos, he is the most laid-back, obedient one. (maybe it's a first born thing). While it's sad to see him grow up so quickly, I'm excited to see the young man he is turning into. Malachi, you are such an awesome dude. I am honored that God chose me to be your mommy =)
Happy Birthday!
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| The Night Malachi Came Home Malachi means: "Messenger of God" |
Sunday, September 4, 2011
Samara's Birth Story
Yesterday was Samara's 3rd birthday. We had a wonderful time with family (pics and a blog post about the party will be coming in a few days). Since I started the blog after my kiddos were born, I wanted to take a step back in time to tell their story. Malachi's and Isaiah's stories will be on their next birthday.
It was the end of January 2008. On a Sunday afternoon, I told James that my "annual" exam was coming up in a few months and I wanted to discuss with my OB/GYN about having a tubal ligation. We had the 2 boys and I felt that our "biological" family was complete. James and I had visited Russia in 2004. While there, we visited an orphanage and we had always thought that we would like to have 2 kids of our own and then adopt from there. So in our minds, it made sense to start looking into that option.
The following Sunday afternoon it hit me. I was late if you know what I mean. There must be a mistake. I rushed to Walmart. I didn't want to waste money on a twin-pack pregnancy test because I was sure that it would be negative. So I bought the single test and came home. Almost immediately the 2 lines appeared. No, that can't be! So I ran out the door and went to Dillon's. This time spending the extra money for a double-pack. Came back home. Confirmed 2 more times that I was indeed prego. I was in absolute shock. I remember spending the rest of the afternoon on the couch crying. Malachi came up and in his little toddler voice asked me what was wrong. You see, at that time, Malachi had just turned 2 and Isaiah had just turned 1. By the time of the 3rd baby's birth, we would have 3 kiddos under the age of 3! That thought was so overwhelming.
Because I was on birth control at the time, the doctor wanted a sonogram right away to see how far along I was measuring. So within a few days of finding out the news, I was able to see the 4-chamber heart beating on the machine. No matter how I felt before the sonogram, I couldn't help but feel love and excitement afterward. With this pregnancy, I felt great. I was tired, but no nausea/sickness.
I was hopeful that this would be our little girl. It had to be. I had dodged the bullet twice to avoid using the boy name James loved. Solomon. I just couldn't bring myself to call our son that. While pregnant with Isaiah, I struck a deal with James that if we had another boy, then that one would be "Solomon". I did that because I was already thinking I was finished with being pregnant. Oh stupid me!
With the boys, we waited until birth to find out what we were having. This time around, though, I desperately needed to know because I didn't want months of debating over a boy's name. When it was time to find out what we were having, it wasn't quite as much fun as waiting. But I was thankful that I could no longer dread a boy's name. I loved watching our little girl be active inside my belly. All the measurements came back normal, and we noticed she had some big feet (just like her daddy!)
My parents threw us a baby shower and my aunt hosted it at her house. Instead of just ladies being invited, it was for families/spouses to come, too. It was a great day filled with everyone creating designs/sayings on burp clothes, eating, opening up wonderful PINK gifts, and swimming. Perfect way to celebrate our little Samara.
As you will find out when I blog about the boys' births, my body handles pregnancy a little differently than a lot of other women. Around Week 27/28, I started having Braxton Hicks (BH) contractions. By around Week 32, I had already dropped. I was getting nervous that she may come early. At my Week 34 OB appt, I was having such intense BH contractions, I wanted to be checked. My doc complied and I was 50% effaced and dilated to a 1. Given the fact that the boys came early, he went ahead and did my Group B Strep test and I made my appt for my 36 week check.
I never made it to that appt, though. It was Labor Day weekend and I was seriously uncomfortable. She was sitting so low and I was waddling like none other. I returned to work that Tuesday, Sept 2nd. I was having horrible contractions; I thought they were just BH, but given the fact I had to have Pitocin with the boys, I didn't quite know what to expect with just natural contractions. I was having trouble walking long distances at work, but I wasn't about to get checked out at the hospital until my water broke.
The next morning, Wednesday, Sept. 3rd, I got up at 6:30am like any other day. While getting ready for work, I had to stop what I was doing every few minutes, bend over and breathe through a contraction. Because of this, I was running late to work. I left a message with the manager to let him know I was having some strong contractions, but I would be there soon. I got in my car and was on my way out of town when I realized that I wasn't sure if I could drive the 45 minutes there. I turned around and made it home. I barely was able to walk upstairs. I took some Tylenol (which I never take) because I knew that if I went to the hospital, that would be the first thing they would ask. James was getting the boys ready for daycare and I laid down on the bed. I told him I was pretty sure that we needed to get to the hospital. At that point, I didn't want to get out of bed so he dropped the boys off while I stayed at home. I called my mom to tell her I was pretty sure I was in active labor. She immediately started the process of preparing to come down.
James got home around 8:00am. It took me a few minutes to make it to the truck. He was going to run in and grab his laptop because he thought it would take awhile before Samara's birth. I knew differently. I had already had the mood change where I no longer was really talking. I started to feel the urge to push. The hospital that I supposed to deliver at was in Wichita. My maternal instincts knew better. I told James that we needed to go to our local hospital.
At 8:15am, James pulled up to the front door and asked if I needed a wheelchair. Uh, yes, this mama was no longer able to really walk. He wheeled me in and went to park the truck. I remember the front foyer was packed because of course there had to be a book fair that day and James parked me right in the middle of it! Here I was trying not to push and breathe through the contractions and trying to blend into the crowd. A darling, elderly volunteer came over to me to see if I could wait a few minutes for Registration to get all of my information. I couldn't speak so I looked at her and tried to nod. Fortunately, a lady in a business suit took one look at me and rushed me into the ER so I could get checked out. She must have known the look of a desperate woman!
The nurses in the ER seemed to keep asking me the same questions. How far along are you? When did the contractions start? How many children do you have? How long did you labor with them? I finally got to the point where I stopped answering. I couldn't talk anymore. They had called up for an OB nurse to get me. But first, I had to stop by Registration. The lady at the desk quickly realized that I needed to get out of there FAST. She kept paging for the nurse to come. I'm sure it only took a few minutes, but it felt like forever.
When the OB nurse finally came, her breath about made me throw up. Coffee breath while in active labor just didn't settle well with me. She wheeled me into a "labor" room, gave me a gown to put on and a cup to pee in. I don't know how I made it into the bathroom to change and I attempted to open the cup, but I was scared that if I went pee then there was a good chance that Samara may come out in the toilet. I made it to the bed and the nurse came in to ask me the same questions the ER nurses did. James was answering them, but I interrupted to say that I felt the urge to push. The nurse said to just wait to push until they had me hooked up to the monitor, an IV in, and some vitals on me. All of a sudden, I said, "I feel a head down there!". The nurse immediately asked if she could check me. By all means, YES! And then she yelled, "I need a doctor in here right now!!!!" A doctor rushed in and they said that Samara was right there. Uh, yeah, I already knew that!
Because all of the "delivery" rooms were dirty, there was a whole team rushing around to prep the "labor" room for the arrival. At 8:59am (45 minutes after arriving at the hospital), and 2 pushes later, Samara Jayne came into this world. She was tiny (1 day shy of being 36 weeks). She weighed 5.11lb and was 18 1/2 inches long. The nurse tried to gather as much prenatal history on me while starting my IV and getting my vitals (after the birth!). Samara checked out wonderfully. I remember looking at her in the warmer and noticing on her left foot, her 4th toe was crooked. The strange things you remember. She was amazing, beautiful, darling, and most importantly, healthy.
With the craziness of the birth, I had forgotten to have James call my parents to tell them to come to our town's hospital and not Wichita. He hurriedly called them and initially got their answering machine. My parents were actually backing out of their garage when my mom heard the phone ring. She rushed inside to hear the great news. (At that time, they didn't have a cell phone so it would have been impossible to get a hold of them any other way!) I called work to let the manager know that I wouldn't be making it in.
We spent the rest of the day holding our beloved daughter. All wrapped up in pink. Cute as a button. Apparently, we were the talk of the hospital. I repeatedly apologized to the nurses and staff for creating such a busy morning for them. More than one of them said that I was made to have babies. Um, no thanks, I'm done =)
Within an hour after the birth, I was walking around, got my PJ's on from home, and felt much better than having a little person sitting on my cervix. Because of her fast delivery and small size, I had zero complications afterward and truly felt back to being myself...well...minus the pregnancy weight!
My parents and sister made it down around lunch time and "oohed" and "aahed" over her. James brought me lunch from our favorite, local coffee shop. In the evening, he brought the boys up to meet their sissy. Malachi wanted to hold her and kiss her. Isaiah wanted to climb on the bed, the chairs, etc. Not really interested in this new playmate.
After James went home with them for the night, Samara and I had a great night of watching HGTV together, cuddling, and me kissing her sweet cheeks. What a blessing she already was!
The following morning James' "Doctor Friend" came by and said that she was one of the prettiest white babies he's ever seen. Yeah, we make some pretty babies! Late that morning, we were discharged and began our crazy adventure as a family...
"Samara" is of Hebrew and Arabic origin and means Guardian or Protected by God.
It was the end of January 2008. On a Sunday afternoon, I told James that my "annual" exam was coming up in a few months and I wanted to discuss with my OB/GYN about having a tubal ligation. We had the 2 boys and I felt that our "biological" family was complete. James and I had visited Russia in 2004. While there, we visited an orphanage and we had always thought that we would like to have 2 kids of our own and then adopt from there. So in our minds, it made sense to start looking into that option.
The following Sunday afternoon it hit me. I was late if you know what I mean. There must be a mistake. I rushed to Walmart. I didn't want to waste money on a twin-pack pregnancy test because I was sure that it would be negative. So I bought the single test and came home. Almost immediately the 2 lines appeared. No, that can't be! So I ran out the door and went to Dillon's. This time spending the extra money for a double-pack. Came back home. Confirmed 2 more times that I was indeed prego. I was in absolute shock. I remember spending the rest of the afternoon on the couch crying. Malachi came up and in his little toddler voice asked me what was wrong. You see, at that time, Malachi had just turned 2 and Isaiah had just turned 1. By the time of the 3rd baby's birth, we would have 3 kiddos under the age of 3! That thought was so overwhelming.
Because I was on birth control at the time, the doctor wanted a sonogram right away to see how far along I was measuring. So within a few days of finding out the news, I was able to see the 4-chamber heart beating on the machine. No matter how I felt before the sonogram, I couldn't help but feel love and excitement afterward. With this pregnancy, I felt great. I was tired, but no nausea/sickness.
I was hopeful that this would be our little girl. It had to be. I had dodged the bullet twice to avoid using the boy name James loved. Solomon. I just couldn't bring myself to call our son that. While pregnant with Isaiah, I struck a deal with James that if we had another boy, then that one would be "Solomon". I did that because I was already thinking I was finished with being pregnant. Oh stupid me!
With the boys, we waited until birth to find out what we were having. This time around, though, I desperately needed to know because I didn't want months of debating over a boy's name. When it was time to find out what we were having, it wasn't quite as much fun as waiting. But I was thankful that I could no longer dread a boy's name. I loved watching our little girl be active inside my belly. All the measurements came back normal, and we noticed she had some big feet (just like her daddy!)
My parents threw us a baby shower and my aunt hosted it at her house. Instead of just ladies being invited, it was for families/spouses to come, too. It was a great day filled with everyone creating designs/sayings on burp clothes, eating, opening up wonderful PINK gifts, and swimming. Perfect way to celebrate our little Samara.
As you will find out when I blog about the boys' births, my body handles pregnancy a little differently than a lot of other women. Around Week 27/28, I started having Braxton Hicks (BH) contractions. By around Week 32, I had already dropped. I was getting nervous that she may come early. At my Week 34 OB appt, I was having such intense BH contractions, I wanted to be checked. My doc complied and I was 50% effaced and dilated to a 1. Given the fact that the boys came early, he went ahead and did my Group B Strep test and I made my appt for my 36 week check.
I never made it to that appt, though. It was Labor Day weekend and I was seriously uncomfortable. She was sitting so low and I was waddling like none other. I returned to work that Tuesday, Sept 2nd. I was having horrible contractions; I thought they were just BH, but given the fact I had to have Pitocin with the boys, I didn't quite know what to expect with just natural contractions. I was having trouble walking long distances at work, but I wasn't about to get checked out at the hospital until my water broke.
The next morning, Wednesday, Sept. 3rd, I got up at 6:30am like any other day. While getting ready for work, I had to stop what I was doing every few minutes, bend over and breathe through a contraction. Because of this, I was running late to work. I left a message with the manager to let him know I was having some strong contractions, but I would be there soon. I got in my car and was on my way out of town when I realized that I wasn't sure if I could drive the 45 minutes there. I turned around and made it home. I barely was able to walk upstairs. I took some Tylenol (which I never take) because I knew that if I went to the hospital, that would be the first thing they would ask. James was getting the boys ready for daycare and I laid down on the bed. I told him I was pretty sure that we needed to get to the hospital. At that point, I didn't want to get out of bed so he dropped the boys off while I stayed at home. I called my mom to tell her I was pretty sure I was in active labor. She immediately started the process of preparing to come down.
James got home around 8:00am. It took me a few minutes to make it to the truck. He was going to run in and grab his laptop because he thought it would take awhile before Samara's birth. I knew differently. I had already had the mood change where I no longer was really talking. I started to feel the urge to push. The hospital that I supposed to deliver at was in Wichita. My maternal instincts knew better. I told James that we needed to go to our local hospital.
At 8:15am, James pulled up to the front door and asked if I needed a wheelchair. Uh, yes, this mama was no longer able to really walk. He wheeled me in and went to park the truck. I remember the front foyer was packed because of course there had to be a book fair that day and James parked me right in the middle of it! Here I was trying not to push and breathe through the contractions and trying to blend into the crowd. A darling, elderly volunteer came over to me to see if I could wait a few minutes for Registration to get all of my information. I couldn't speak so I looked at her and tried to nod. Fortunately, a lady in a business suit took one look at me and rushed me into the ER so I could get checked out. She must have known the look of a desperate woman!
The nurses in the ER seemed to keep asking me the same questions. How far along are you? When did the contractions start? How many children do you have? How long did you labor with them? I finally got to the point where I stopped answering. I couldn't talk anymore. They had called up for an OB nurse to get me. But first, I had to stop by Registration. The lady at the desk quickly realized that I needed to get out of there FAST. She kept paging for the nurse to come. I'm sure it only took a few minutes, but it felt like forever.
When the OB nurse finally came, her breath about made me throw up. Coffee breath while in active labor just didn't settle well with me. She wheeled me into a "labor" room, gave me a gown to put on and a cup to pee in. I don't know how I made it into the bathroom to change and I attempted to open the cup, but I was scared that if I went pee then there was a good chance that Samara may come out in the toilet. I made it to the bed and the nurse came in to ask me the same questions the ER nurses did. James was answering them, but I interrupted to say that I felt the urge to push. The nurse said to just wait to push until they had me hooked up to the monitor, an IV in, and some vitals on me. All of a sudden, I said, "I feel a head down there!". The nurse immediately asked if she could check me. By all means, YES! And then she yelled, "I need a doctor in here right now!!!!" A doctor rushed in and they said that Samara was right there. Uh, yeah, I already knew that!
Because all of the "delivery" rooms were dirty, there was a whole team rushing around to prep the "labor" room for the arrival. At 8:59am (45 minutes after arriving at the hospital), and 2 pushes later, Samara Jayne came into this world. She was tiny (1 day shy of being 36 weeks). She weighed 5.11lb and was 18 1/2 inches long. The nurse tried to gather as much prenatal history on me while starting my IV and getting my vitals (after the birth!). Samara checked out wonderfully. I remember looking at her in the warmer and noticing on her left foot, her 4th toe was crooked. The strange things you remember. She was amazing, beautiful, darling, and most importantly, healthy.
With the craziness of the birth, I had forgotten to have James call my parents to tell them to come to our town's hospital and not Wichita. He hurriedly called them and initially got their answering machine. My parents were actually backing out of their garage when my mom heard the phone ring. She rushed inside to hear the great news. (At that time, they didn't have a cell phone so it would have been impossible to get a hold of them any other way!) I called work to let the manager know that I wouldn't be making it in.
We spent the rest of the day holding our beloved daughter. All wrapped up in pink. Cute as a button. Apparently, we were the talk of the hospital. I repeatedly apologized to the nurses and staff for creating such a busy morning for them. More than one of them said that I was made to have babies. Um, no thanks, I'm done =)
Within an hour after the birth, I was walking around, got my PJ's on from home, and felt much better than having a little person sitting on my cervix. Because of her fast delivery and small size, I had zero complications afterward and truly felt back to being myself...well...minus the pregnancy weight!
My parents and sister made it down around lunch time and "oohed" and "aahed" over her. James brought me lunch from our favorite, local coffee shop. In the evening, he brought the boys up to meet their sissy. Malachi wanted to hold her and kiss her. Isaiah wanted to climb on the bed, the chairs, etc. Not really interested in this new playmate.
After James went home with them for the night, Samara and I had a great night of watching HGTV together, cuddling, and me kissing her sweet cheeks. What a blessing she already was!
The following morning James' "Doctor Friend" came by and said that she was one of the prettiest white babies he's ever seen. Yeah, we make some pretty babies! Late that morning, we were discharged and began our crazy adventure as a family...
"Samara" is of Hebrew and Arabic origin and means Guardian or Protected by God.
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| A few hours after birth |
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| Getting ready to leave in her preemie clothes Grammie and Papa gave her |
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| Samara at home |
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
The Number "4"
It's today, it's today! Isaiah is officially 4. We enjoyed a day long celebration of Isaiah. To start off the morning, he listened to a voicemail that Papa left at 5:10am wishing him a "Happy Birthday". Then Grammie and Cousin Sofia called to sing to him. I had planned on a nice breakfast of pancakes and turkey sausage, but instead the Birthday Boy decided Fruit Loops sounded better.
After getting his tummy full, he opened up a birthday gift from Uncle Matt. Spiderman Color-by-Number and a "Bad Guy" Transformer. His reaction while jumping up and down, "This is awesome! I'm so excited!" He had to call Uncle Matt to thank him for his great gifts.
For a special snack, I made homemade double peanut butter and milk chocolate chip cookies. I stress homemade because when James ate one he asked if I made them. I replied, "Yes, they're homemade". He then asks if by homemade I mean I made them from scratch like with eggs, flour, and sugar. Yes, James, no pre-made cookie dough this time. I spent 2 hours on those suckers; trust me they're homemade =)
Throughout the day, James and I asked Isaiah how it was being "4". We were met with the same response, "It means no more sucking thumbs and I get a Quiet Time". He also kept commenting on how long his birthday was today.
Ah, yes, he is an official Quiet Time member now. He colored 2 Spiderman pictures (he wasn't interested in the following the color by number rules which is ok with me), played with his Transformer, and then watched "The Incredibles" all while wearing his Wolverine costume with mask. A wonderful start to a new era.
Isaiah was a quick study. Every time the phone rang, he figured out that the person calling needed to sing to him. This afternoon my sister called for the specific purpose to sing to him, but before she could start, he asked, "Will you sing 'Happy Birthday' to me because today's my birthday?" Who could ever say no to that?
We finished the day off with cheese pizza, chocolate fudge cake with strawberry frosting and mint chocolate chip ice cream and a "Happy Birthday" call from Grandma and Grandpa Dinkel. Since most of the boys' birthday gifts where given at Christmas or on Malachi's birthday, we saved one gift for the both of them to open tonight. It was a Thomas the Train train track. I'm sure they'll have many hours of fun with it.
Isaiah is already saying that he's excited for his next birthday because he'll be 5...son, don't wish to grow up so quickly. Enjoy being 4!
After getting his tummy full, he opened up a birthday gift from Uncle Matt. Spiderman Color-by-Number and a "Bad Guy" Transformer. His reaction while jumping up and down, "This is awesome! I'm so excited!" He had to call Uncle Matt to thank him for his great gifts.
For a special snack, I made homemade double peanut butter and milk chocolate chip cookies. I stress homemade because when James ate one he asked if I made them. I replied, "Yes, they're homemade". He then asks if by homemade I mean I made them from scratch like with eggs, flour, and sugar. Yes, James, no pre-made cookie dough this time. I spent 2 hours on those suckers; trust me they're homemade =)
Throughout the day, James and I asked Isaiah how it was being "4". We were met with the same response, "It means no more sucking thumbs and I get a Quiet Time". He also kept commenting on how long his birthday was today.
Ah, yes, he is an official Quiet Time member now. He colored 2 Spiderman pictures (he wasn't interested in the following the color by number rules which is ok with me), played with his Transformer, and then watched "The Incredibles" all while wearing his Wolverine costume with mask. A wonderful start to a new era.
Isaiah was a quick study. Every time the phone rang, he figured out that the person calling needed to sing to him. This afternoon my sister called for the specific purpose to sing to him, but before she could start, he asked, "Will you sing 'Happy Birthday' to me because today's my birthday?" Who could ever say no to that?
We finished the day off with cheese pizza, chocolate fudge cake with strawberry frosting and mint chocolate chip ice cream and a "Happy Birthday" call from Grandma and Grandpa Dinkel. Since most of the boys' birthday gifts where given at Christmas or on Malachi's birthday, we saved one gift for the both of them to open tonight. It was a Thomas the Train train track. I'm sure they'll have many hours of fun with it.
Isaiah is already saying that he's excited for his next birthday because he'll be 5...son, don't wish to grow up so quickly. Enjoy being 4!
Saturday, January 15, 2011
Birthday, Dinosaur Poop, and a Haircut
So yesterday marked another year of my life passing by. This past year has seen a lot of change and I'm so excited to see what this next year holds for me and the family. Since we are still adjusting to one income and also trying to conserve money for if James is accepted into med school, I didn't want elaborate birthday gifts. I received a coupon in the mail from the jewelry store we bought our wedding set from. It was for a free pearl bracelet with the "I AM LOVED" charm attached. Perfect! It was definitely within our budget and would require James to plan ahead and go into Wichita to get it. I set the coupon on the piano and reminded him of it earlier this week. Now normally, I would keep track of it and notice if it was missing. I must be slacking because I had no idea when it was no longer where I put it! James' schedule hadn't changed; he didn't mysteriously work late one night or was away at the store for a long period of time so I thought that maybe he forgot about it. Mentally, I was trying not to be disappointed if he hadn't went to get it, but it was a battle.
I walked into the kitchen to get the kiddos breakfast and on the counter, there was a container of chocolate cupcakes with buttercream frosting and a birthday message from James written on the container. But on top of the cupcake container, there was the red jewelry box with the bracelet inside! It was a wonderful surprise. When did he go get it? How could I have not noticed? James finally told me that he left work early one day this week and went into Wichita. I felt honored that he would take the time to surprise me with it.
The kiddos were super great yesterday. On their own, they decided to sing "Happy Birthday" to me or as Samara sang it loud repeatedly, "Appy to You". The boys kept calling me the Birthday girl and would come over to me and give me hugs and kisses for no reason. We had a cupcake snack in the morning; don't you just love the face of a kiddo who just ate a chocolate cupcake? Even George behaved himself!
My family called and sang "Happy Birthday"; I also received birthday cards in the mail. On Facebook, I can't begin to count the number of "friends" who sent birthday wishes. The bracelet said exactly how I felt...I AM LOVED! It was truly an awesome birthday.
Now, I'm sure you're wondering, what is up with the Dinosaur Poop. Well, it was nap time and I was finishing putting dinner in the crock pot. I told Samara to head upstairs and I would be up in just a minute. Ok, maybe it turned out to be 2 or 3 minutes, but it was a very short time later, I went upstairs. She was in the bathroom shouting, "POOP!" "YAY!". I naturally thought that she went poop like a big girl. But instead she had her pink dinosaur on the floor, wiping its bottom and a huge amount of toilet paper in the toilet. She was so proud of her dinosaur. So I ask you, if the dinosaur can poop in the toilet, why can't she?
At long last, this morning Samara went for her first haircut. Seeing how she hardly had any hair until about 6 months ago, she really didn't need one until recently. She was very apprehensive about it because she doesn't like her hair played with (although she loves to play with other people's hair). James seemed a little nervous, too, because he likes long hair and I prefer short hair. But, I think little girls should have longer hair so after teasing him a little that she would come back with a boy hair cut, I promised him that she was just going to have a trim, but keep most of her length. On the way there, Samara was saying that it would "huwt" (hurt), I told her that it was fun and I loved to get my hair cut. Her reply was "Ooh" and her attitude immediately changed. Normally, there's at least a 30 minute wait so I packed juice and books to keep her preoccupied. To my surprise and delight, we were able to get right in. Samara did awesome! She didn't move at all and did exactly what she was told to do. There were a few smiles on her face during the cut, too. When her bangs were being cut, her eyes got huge, but she stayed very still. The cosmetologist said Samara was the best 2 year old she had ever had. Really was there any doubt that she wouldn't be? Cute girl with cute hair.
I walked into the kitchen to get the kiddos breakfast and on the counter, there was a container of chocolate cupcakes with buttercream frosting and a birthday message from James written on the container. But on top of the cupcake container, there was the red jewelry box with the bracelet inside! It was a wonderful surprise. When did he go get it? How could I have not noticed? James finally told me that he left work early one day this week and went into Wichita. I felt honored that he would take the time to surprise me with it.
The kiddos were super great yesterday. On their own, they decided to sing "Happy Birthday" to me or as Samara sang it loud repeatedly, "Appy to You". The boys kept calling me the Birthday girl and would come over to me and give me hugs and kisses for no reason. We had a cupcake snack in the morning; don't you just love the face of a kiddo who just ate a chocolate cupcake? Even George behaved himself!
My family called and sang "Happy Birthday"; I also received birthday cards in the mail. On Facebook, I can't begin to count the number of "friends" who sent birthday wishes. The bracelet said exactly how I felt...I AM LOVED! It was truly an awesome birthday.
Now, I'm sure you're wondering, what is up with the Dinosaur Poop. Well, it was nap time and I was finishing putting dinner in the crock pot. I told Samara to head upstairs and I would be up in just a minute. Ok, maybe it turned out to be 2 or 3 minutes, but it was a very short time later, I went upstairs. She was in the bathroom shouting, "POOP!" "YAY!". I naturally thought that she went poop like a big girl. But instead she had her pink dinosaur on the floor, wiping its bottom and a huge amount of toilet paper in the toilet. She was so proud of her dinosaur. So I ask you, if the dinosaur can poop in the toilet, why can't she?
At long last, this morning Samara went for her first haircut. Seeing how she hardly had any hair until about 6 months ago, she really didn't need one until recently. She was very apprehensive about it because she doesn't like her hair played with (although she loves to play with other people's hair). James seemed a little nervous, too, because he likes long hair and I prefer short hair. But, I think little girls should have longer hair so after teasing him a little that she would come back with a boy hair cut, I promised him that she was just going to have a trim, but keep most of her length. On the way there, Samara was saying that it would "huwt" (hurt), I told her that it was fun and I loved to get my hair cut. Her reply was "Ooh" and her attitude immediately changed. Normally, there's at least a 30 minute wait so I packed juice and books to keep her preoccupied. To my surprise and delight, we were able to get right in. Samara did awesome! She didn't move at all and did exactly what she was told to do. There were a few smiles on her face during the cut, too. When her bangs were being cut, her eyes got huge, but she stayed very still. The cosmetologist said Samara was the best 2 year old she had ever had. Really was there any doubt that she wouldn't be? Cute girl with cute hair.
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