All four taking a snooze simultaneously!
Now, the question is, can mommy complete her workout and shower before they awaken???? Hopefully, I'll update you again later along with those other pending posts in my draft line-up.
Tuesday, July 26, 2016
Cha-ching!
They say pride cometh before the fall, but I couldn't resist.
All four taking a snooze simultaneously!
Now, the question is, can mommy complete her workout and shower before they awaken???? Hopefully, I'll update you again later along with those other pending posts in my draft line-up.
All four taking a snooze simultaneously!
Now, the question is, can mommy complete her workout and shower before they awaken???? Hopefully, I'll update you again later along with those other pending posts in my draft line-up.
Wednesday, April 6, 2016
Calling all Guessers of Peter's Successors
I have a follow up ultrasound for IV tomorrow so I figured I might as well allow the official guessing game to commence. Plus, then I don't need to report the likely increase on the scale to the public forum ;-).
On Friday, I'll officially be at the 37 week mark. Tomorrow's ultrasound is a follow-up concerning a pocket of fluid they observed near IV's right kidney. They don't know that the pocket is a precursor for any particular condition or necessarily need to be concerned but if it hasn't been absorbed by the baby at this point they'll request that we follow-up with the pediatrician once IV is born. So say a little prayer that any extraneous fluid pockets are absorbed and that everything looks good with mommy and babe for the upcoming appearance on the main stage.
In general the pregnancy has gone well. The first trimester was very exhausting and I had lots of nausea but thankfully never actually "tossed my cookies" until somewhere around 31 weeks but I think that was more a result of a stomach bug going around. I had been participating in a Majestic Francis Cheek Transformation challenge and made great progress over the course of the summer and got down lower than my pre-pregnancy weight with Luke- woohoo!
Weight gain was minimal through the first trimester but the winter months were pretty rough- less daylight, less time outside, harder to stick with a workout schedule with holidays and work, and the chill which adds to the appeal of those lovely comfort foods like potatoes, homemade bread, creamy macaroni and cheese, carbs, carbs, and more carbs- and of course chocolate. Total weight gain is 38lbs as of my last appointment on March 28th. This falls within the normal range as far as my docs are concerned but I've found it a bit overwhelming and am looking forward to holding a "healthy" baby in my arms in more ways than one and enjoying the hustle bustle of a busy household and opportunities to take regular family strolls around the neighborhood or to the park to enjoy the weather and the wonderful season of fresh fruits and veggies coming soon. Oh. And sandals...right now the task of socks and shoes spring forth sounds similar to the cries of souls in purgatory.
Here are the obligatory pregnancy pics:
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| IV - 25wks 2 days |
At the initial ultrasound (@21 weeks) they couldn't get a good view of the "outflow of the heart". With each child the list seems to get longer and longer of what they measure, examine and track. Consequently, I usually end up having another opportunity to ask questions and learn something new. For example, when they said outflow of the heart I envisioned that they were looking to get a similar "picture" of when they add the color to the fuzzy black and white image to show the blood flow through the umbilical cord. Turns out in utero the baby has holes in his/her heart to allow for the effective transport of blood where the actual valves will later develop. This initial ultrasound was also where they noticed the pocket of fluid. The first ultrasound they noted that IV's femur was measuring slightly large but not enough to change my due date. Everything looked good at the follow-up ultrasound regarding the outflows of the heart a few weeks later. The pocket of fluid grew slightly but this was to be expected as the kidney grew and the pocket was still under 10mm in diameter which apparently is the point where they get more concerned. This time it was the baby's belly that was measuring on the larger side. I joked with Pete that it would be pretty funny if it turns out that we have a girl on our hands and she measures bigger than all her brothers.
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| IV- 31 weeks, 3 days |
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| IV- 35 weeks |
At my appointment on March 28th they had me do an extra blood draw to check on my platelet count. The midwife noticed during the tummy check that teeny red spots dotted my belly. Interestingly, Luke had asked about the little red dots about a week earlier to which I explained that I was getting all stretched out and they were parts where the blood vessels were visible. Apparently extra or easy bruising can be an indication of a condition called ITP (Immune Thrombocytopenic Purpura during pregnancy). I never heard back from the doctor which typically means I'm in the clear.
Noteworthy notions:
- Official due date is Friday, April 29th (Pete plans to attend a conference in Chicago April 17th-20th)
- I have been experiencing contractions as of late but nothing too intense or worth timing. Here's hoping that my body's getting the hang of this birthing thing and I don't need Pitocin
- I find myself craving salt, and salted butter especially not so much that I eat them straight up but certainly take the opportunity to dress-up those noodles or toast or waffles with such additives
- I do also especially enjoy the meat and found myself craving ice cream even in the cold winter months which is strange for me (perhaps I've been hanging out with them Schafers too much :-)
- I have itchy heels and have described IVs movements more as rolls or wide sweeping movements as opposed to kicks and punches. Prominent limbs or extremities seem to protrude from my belly and IV tends to run a heel or knee or something along the right side of my body from hip to midline which makes me think of my college days in anatomy lab and the use of a blunt dissection probe to separating layers of tissue or viscera.
Finish the Frame
Provide us with some mild entertainment to offset the anticipation and angst of when this little booger is going to arrive!
I'm providing some pictorial evidence and written testimony for those that prefer to make informed guesses or draw reasonable conclusions. However, all responses, regardless of color, race, gender, religion, age, randomness, or silliness will be considered. On the other hand - the UPPER hand- remember that this is a family based forum and that we are talking about a human here. A little PERSON. A vulnerable child imbued with and deserving of dignity and respect from the moment of conception. Now that we've established the rules and regulations, here's what we need from you. Please submit your guesses in the comments or reply to the email in which I sent the link to the blog. Depending on your mode of submission you may have to include your name (especially if you want to receive a prize).
Your guess should include:
A.) Baby's name (first and middle)
B.) Boy? or Girl? (Let's face it folks, given the names and trends of the times it's not as easy to distinguish male/female based on name choice)
C.) Proposed birthdate
D.) Weight and Length
E.) Any other tidbits, advice, or anecdotes you choose to add.
I've included a variety of photos of the Schafer boys three below to scroll through as you seek inspiration, gather your thoughts, and devise your strategy. Mostly a selection of my favorites that I failed to share in the blogger world during 2015.
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| The Schafer Boys meet the newest Schafer Boy- July 2014 |
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| Dad's Little Heroes- shirts compliments of cousin Mel |
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| PUNCTTS! |
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| Feast of the Immaculate Conception 2015- Christmas Card worthy credits to Grandma Schafer |
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| Making our gingerbread house a home |
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| To Ya! |
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| Christmas Eve morning |
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| The angelic big brothers yesterday |
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| Truth be told... |
Other points to ponder:
I. Prior to Clement's birth, Grandma Schafer was doing some spring cleaning and passed along some fish figurines she found in her basement which apparently belonged to Pete's grandmother. The set included the blue "mommy fish" and the three offspring. Luke was quite concerned over the absence of a daddy fish and I thought it might be fun to utilize the artifacts to decorate our bathroom and be representative of our family. Consequently, I ordered a mold to make the daddy fish. In the process I had ordered some other molds of fish/sea creatures but none that are exactly like the children in the original set. In the early months of 2016 we had an incident which caused one of the little fish to fall and crack beyond repair. Do we add variety to our ocean scene using some of the other molds to fashion a creature for IV and to replace the casualty? Or do we ditch the décor altogether and go for a different motif?
II. Pete suggested holding a secondary contest. For anyone who is interested...submit your guess of "What you think Uncle Joe is going to guess" To be considered for a prize you must, obviously, submit your "Guess of Uncle Joe's Guess" before Uncle Joe submits his guess. Ready. Set. Go!!!!
Thank you everyone for your continued prayers and support throughout this pregnancy. Congratulations to my cousin Jessica who had her second son today. (Even though I'm a little jealous since your due date was after mine ;-) Happy holding and a speedy recovery as you all get settled.
I very much look forward to hearing from you.
Saturday, March 26, 2016
Doot. DOOT. Do-do-do-doot!
AL-VINNNNN!!!!!!
This little loon keeps us on our toes these days. My favorite most recent quote was delivered a couple weeks ago when I was in the kitchen and said, "Whoops! Sorry IV." as I bumped my belly into the counter. (We call the baby "I" "V" as in the Roman numeral for four but hadn't really explained it thoroughly to the boys) Augustine from the table says, "iBaby is getting so big and is ready to pop right out of there!" Signs of the times I suppose. Here's to Apple's next cutting edge technology, ehhhh?!
Augustine wears his soccer jersey every other day. It's starting to come apart a bit under the one armpit. Lucky for me it's striped and I've considered sewing in additional panels on each side. I blame the bishop. The Most Reverend George Murry commented after a Mass for Life at North Canton St. Paul, "Nice jersey. I have one just like it. It's my favorite team." What three year old wouldn't be impressed by the attention of the kind, stately man that carries a staff and wears a cool hat?
The scarf, made by one of my students at Mother of God School in Gaithersburg, Maryland was a shorter lived trend, but Augustine does also gravitate toward striped socks that go up his legs and he calls soccer socks.
Since the end of the autumn season, he's also been quite enthusiastic about his footie pajamas. For about ten nights straight he would exclaim, "My footie PJs!. They don't need socks! Or a shirt! or Pants! Just underwear!" Luke, the gallant older brother, during the switchover one evening said proudly, "You know what A-dust-tin?!? When I grow up I'm going to invent footie PJs that already have the underwear in them too."
Luke wasn't so fond of the footie pajamas when he was a 3T and so Augustine has more than one set that are in great condition. He's dubbed one pair his ice-skating pjs because the treads on the feet have worn off and he can slip slide around on certain floor surfaces.
I picked up the necessary colors in fleece and went to work without a pattern of any sort. I made things up as I went along. All went well except perhaps my attempts to make a turtleneck type look. Luke was the guinea pig and there was some viewpoints, shrieking and ripping one might have found akin to giving birth.
Amidst the busy season of Augustine's birthday and Luke's feast day and crazy busy advising time at work, Halloween of 2015 snuck up on us. Although I was slated to manufacture likenesses of Curious George and company I simply threw in the towel and thanked the Lord for the warmer weather. This meant Alvin and the Chipmunks made another appearance needing less bulky layers beneath to survive the festivities. We ventured through Aunt Lisa's stomping grounds where Clement played up the Theodore role running from one house to the next devouring his treats along the way. Grandma Angie also took the trio to a Halloween party at my cousin's place where they earned a prize for the get-up.
I'd best get my act together for this year as IV is added to the bunch and the costumes may not withstand the added inches and activities of their former wearers.
Any suggestions for famous foursomes?
Friday, March 25, 2016
Farewell Friend and Special Guests
In early February (of this very same year!) we bid farewell to Domestique. She served me well through the second half of college and nobly accepted her duties in Maryland after Pete's Ford Focus went kaput. Wild and crazy kids we were as we embarked on a greyhound bus trip with itty bitty Luke for our 1 year anniversary to retrieve the sparkly Saturn from storage at my parents'.
She survived many a stressors including a young adult mission trip to New Orleans which resulted in a broken windshield, christening by our firstborn's urine during an emergency diaper change, an attack by the vacuum cleaner leaving a bite out of the front passenger seat, and years of service as we resumed residency on Spangler road racking up a total of 143 thousand plus miles.
Diagnostics in early February suggested we pour some $1300 into the old girl. Although the hope was to have paid off the van before adding another car payment we decided that we'd much rather use the $1300 toward a new car payment than into the beloved machine that may or may not make it through another year. Besides, with Pete's lengthy commute, something more reliable was more than worth it in exchange for my peace of mind with our fourth child on the way.
I won't go into specifics, but it's interesting to note the different approaches that Pete and I took toward car shopping. Pete is NOT a fan. After some internet research and bantering, Pete took a personal day, we called in reinforcements and we took one last ride in Domestique on our way to the dealership to test drive a Chevy Cruze. The Cruze was nice but I felt uncomfortable making such a large purchase without at least comparing it to another car. We knew we wanted something that would get good gas mileage and didn't need for it to fit the whole family but I wanted to get a look at the next size up Chevy model. The dealership in North Canton didn't have any Malibus on the lot so we were escorted by our salesperson Glenn in the back seat of one of the Cruzes we test drove to the partner dealership in Stow. Pete and I both agreed on multiple accounts that we liked the 2013 Malibu better than the Cruze.
Meet Seaborg:
Despite multiple trips to the BMV to get everything switched over, the failed attempt to take advantage of the so-called free car washes at the dealership, and the ridiculous amounts of *FINAL NOTICE* junk mail to renew the warrantee we are quite happy with the acquisition.
Other events of note include a very recent visit from cousin Sarah who graciously gave up an afternoon of her college spring break to color eggs with the boys and humored them with some outside time playing baseball and riding scooters in the backyard as well.
We've also welcomed Luke's preschool class pet into our home for the duration of the spring break. Bob H.E. Williams has settled in a place of honor on our mantle.
I'm okay with fish but not particularly open to other pet possibilities. I'm not sure Pete's all that accepting of even fish having commented yesterday at dinner when Luke excitedly explained that we would have to feed the beta each day, "Hey Luke, maybe you could play with Bob using that new fishing pole Uncle Stevie got you for your birthday!"
She survived many a stressors including a young adult mission trip to New Orleans which resulted in a broken windshield, christening by our firstborn's urine during an emergency diaper change, an attack by the vacuum cleaner leaving a bite out of the front passenger seat, and years of service as we resumed residency on Spangler road racking up a total of 143 thousand plus miles.
I won't go into specifics, but it's interesting to note the different approaches that Pete and I took toward car shopping. Pete is NOT a fan. After some internet research and bantering, Pete took a personal day, we called in reinforcements and we took one last ride in Domestique on our way to the dealership to test drive a Chevy Cruze. The Cruze was nice but I felt uncomfortable making such a large purchase without at least comparing it to another car. We knew we wanted something that would get good gas mileage and didn't need for it to fit the whole family but I wanted to get a look at the next size up Chevy model. The dealership in North Canton didn't have any Malibus on the lot so we were escorted by our salesperson Glenn in the back seat of one of the Cruzes we test drove to the partner dealership in Stow. Pete and I both agreed on multiple accounts that we liked the 2013 Malibu better than the Cruze.
Meet Seaborg:
Despite multiple trips to the BMV to get everything switched over, the failed attempt to take advantage of the so-called free car washes at the dealership, and the ridiculous amounts of *FINAL NOTICE* junk mail to renew the warrantee we are quite happy with the acquisition.
Other events of note include a very recent visit from cousin Sarah who graciously gave up an afternoon of her college spring break to color eggs with the boys and humored them with some outside time playing baseball and riding scooters in the backyard as well.
La Naturale
WARNING!
Some may find the account below to fall into the TMI category. Others, though, are strangely drawn to the knitty gritty details of childbirth. Childbirth is kind of like watching a horror film, you know there is something scary, bloody and quite possibly excruciating lurking around the corner but you open that rickety old cellar door anyway. The traditional line of defense of baseball bat or large cleaver is replaced by breathing techniques and Hail Marys. Luckily the serial killer at the end is replaced by a cute, angelic baby.
Unfortunately, a stomach bug in the early hours of a Monday morning in November caused me to again reflect on the pains of childbirth. As I hovered over the toilet and later over the "big blue bowl" my anxiety increased as I wondered, "How am I going to do this?" "How am I going to be a parent today?" "It hurts SO bad!" I hopelessly groaned to Pete from the bedroom, "I think I may have to go to the hospital." The children were still asleep, fortunately, and Pete was just about ready to leave for work. He ended up taking the day off but did have to make a quick trip to a coworker in the area to get the right phone number to call since he recently lost his phone to the ol' Permanent Press and rinse monster. Praise God that once dispelling the contents of my stomach I felt much better. I rested in bed administering meals to Clement periodically while Pete otherwise adopted all childrearing responsibilities. By 4pm I was up and moving around having never experienced any other undesirable symptoms of the cold or flu. Consequently, I'm chalking the sickness up to something I ate. What that was...who could tell. It was Thanksgiving weekend after all!!
The point of this tangential tale you may ask.
I can honestly say that the cramping and pain I experienced on that Monday was worse than what I choose to recall from the birthing experience of our three sons. As a quick recap- with Luke my water broke at 37 and a half weeks but no contractions came. Pete and I walked around the hospital for hours-but still nothing. Eventually I was seen by the doctor (the only one in the practice I hadn't met yet) who cursed during our first consultation then and there and proceeded to use scare tactics. I was administered Pitocin to move things along. About 18 hours after my water broke I opted to get an epidural feeling tired and stressed. Luke arrived 25 hours after my water broke. Despite being "complete" and very ready to push an hour earlier I was then told to wait and "labor down" because we were waiting on Amy. Amy? Who the heck is Amy? Pete, typically rather peaceful and laid back spoke up and snapped, "What happened to the whole 24 hours mark? and "this baby's going to end up in the NICU if it's not out in 24 hours."?!?!?!? Nonetheless, after Amy arrived there was a quick coaching, three pushes and Luke was out.
Augustine was a different experience. Having moved back to Ohio with 3/5 of the pregnancy complete I opted to go to a single doctor. I've blogged about it before but basically was induced at 41 weeks. Augustine was born only 5 hours after the administration of Pitocin began and his face was purpley-blue with red marks as a result. I passed on the epidural with Augustine as I was not fond of the sensitive hole in my back, the longer wait time to walk after labor allowing for my legs to "wake up" and the nausea and sickness that ensued 12 hours after Luke was born. I did opt for a dose of Nubaine which made me a bit "whoozy" and relaxed. I remember the shocking brightness of the overhead lights that the doctor flipped on before the crucial point of pushing and took some mild satisfaction in involuntarily emptying the contents of my bladder at his feet given the snide remarks I endured from him over the last few days. The doctor and more than one of the nurses commented after the brief period of pushing with our slick warm second son resting on my bare chest that it was a "picture perfect" or "beautiful" birth that ought to have been videotaped for instructional purposes. The rave reviews of the performance of my nether regions made me feel both awkward and proud and so I turned my focus eager to inspect and appreciate every square centimeter of Augustine John. I was somewhat surprised by his strong latching ability and grateful that breastfeeding came more easily the second time around.
With the practice I chose with Clement we had the option of utilizing nurse-midwives. Having met with Jamie more consistently throughout the pregnancy, in the final trimester, it was revealed that Jamie would not be delivering and that Halle was covering as much as she could with regard to the patients. My water broke/gurgled around 11:00pm on June 30th. We called Grandma Angie over that night but I showered and rested atop towels at home waiting for labor to ensue. The contractions never really came despite having experienced more tightening/precursors in the last trimester than I had with Luke and Augustine. Dr. Downey seemed perturbed when Pete called in around 7am on July 1st and sternly directed us to report to the hospital. She did however allow us to walk the halls of Mercy and give my body a chance to move things along naturally. We did rounds of 60 minutes walking to 15 minutes on the monitor. Come 10:30am labor still had not hit and the doctor recommended starting the Pitocin, if only for a kick start. I slept for an hour or two to store up my energy comforted by the rhythmic beat of the baby's heart turned low on the monitor.
Fast forward a few hours and imagine my frustration as I stared at the monitor to see no increase in the height of the peaks for the contractions. I was certainly feeling more uncomfortable but only became more frustrated thinking, "I'm getting tired. How am I going to push? I don't know how much more of this I can handle? Why don't we have our baby in our arms yet?" With tears in my eyes I turned to the nurse to ask if I had progressed at all and if we could discuss pain management options. She asked, "How would you rate your pain?" which brought my mind to that stupid pain assessment graphic that I found ridiculously annoying adorning the hospital room walls. "I don't know. A six or a seven maybe? But I don't know how much more of this I can handle especially since the contractions aren't getting any stronger according to the monitor." "Oh! Don't go by the monitor honey. It's not all that accurate. The strap could slip around and the measurements could vary based on where the sensors are located. You have to go by how you're feeling."
You'd think with it being my third time around I would be a pro at this labor thing by now. After all, third time's a charm right?
"How much longer do I have?"
"Can I have some nubaine?" I inquired
"I can check."
The nurse extracted a small box containing nubaine from the cabinet and used her little radio to call the doctor. The doctor must have asked how far along I was. The nurse got her gloves and checked my cervix. She called the doctor back and reported that I was around seven centimeters. After a pause and listening intently the nurse bid the doc farewell and replaced her radio at her hip.
"The bad news is...you can't have the Nubaine. You're too far along and it could cause respiratory issues with the baby. ...The good news is... the midwife is on her way and will have some strategies to help manage the pain."
I managed to get myself up out of the bed in between contractions with a tangle of cords and tubes from the monitor and IV and settled in on the large orange birthing/exercise ball. This was a wonderful change from lying in bed where I could "rock n' roll" gently of course during the contractions and stabilize myself with the bed rail or Pete sitting nearby.
The midwife arrived within a half an hour and spoke softly and calmly through a couple contractions as I moaned and groaned and breathed.
"How much longer? When is it time to push?"
"Listen to your body. Your body will tell you. You tell me when." Halle responded calmly.
I found this response lovely, yet oh so irritating. Like, "How lovely, ..it's about time I've worked with someone supportive and in tuned to the natural way of childbirth." and " GRRRRRR....JUST TELL ME WHAT TO DO WOMAN!"
Sometime within the next ten minutes, Halle was helping me up from the ball to empty my bladder which would make a little more room for baby to descend. She applied firm pressure to both of my hips which felt glorious. We walked slowly across the span of the room. About three quarters of the way to the bathroom as Halle was trying to maneuver the IV stand along the journey it got disconnected and fell to the floor. She did her best to get me all put back together and into the bathroom where another contraction hit which made it slightly more challenging to relax and relieve myself.
Halle applied more pressure to my hips as we walked back across the room and a trio of crimson droplets dotted the floor.
"I need to lay down and stretch out a bit." I said.
Moments later Halle and the nurses were transforming the bed and assuming their positions for the pushing phase. "Okay Elise you're going to push down hard but don't forget to breathe."
In a matter of four or five pushes Clement was out, warm and gushy with a full head of dark black hair. He was on my chest less than five minutes before his lips started smacking, head a-bobbing and arms pushing to find his way to my breast. I giggled a little asking him, "Are you hungry son? Ready to eat Clement?" getting used to saying his name out loud. "Yeah, mommy too."
Halle and two other nurses worked competently throughout the room as Pete and I cherished the little form of God's marvelous creation, but also wondering and waiting to get all the vital statistics to pass on to family and friends. One of the nurses finally took Clement to clean him up (he was covered in meconium as he emerged from the womb) and take his measurements. I asked the other nurse for a throat lozenge because my throat hurt from the guttural noises I made during labor. Note to self: bring cinnamon discs or mints to suck on after IV is born as apparently the hospital had no such relief available.
Now, I don't know the Bobsy twins but that's all I could think of as a new set of nurses came in to bathe and check over Clement. They seemed so scattergoried and inefficient, dropping pens, misplacing measuring tapes and taking forever to complete the simplest of tasks as they carried on about their husbands and most recent lunch hour. All this was punctuated by Clement's impatient cries as he wiggled around in his birthday suit wishing, no doubt, that he was snuggled up close to mom again. (He's still more of a cuddler than Luke and Augustine ever were.)
Pete, Clement and I were all situated in our new room less than two hours after Clement's birth. I was very excited to greet Luke and Augustine and have them meet Clement. Augustine was apprehensive having not enjoyed the elevator ride up to the maternity ward, and somewhat taken aback by seeing mommy, with another baby, sitting up in a strange room and a strange bed. There are quite a few pictures below, some very similar but it was hard to choose only a few as the facial expressions change ever so slightly to reveal quite the range of emotions. It was such a wonderful feeling to be reunited with the rest of our family and make the first introductions. (Plus they came bearing some delightful loaded baked potato soup from Subway which tasted oh so good and helped with my sore throat ;-)
I suppose it's fitting that I FINALLY complete this post on Good Friday. Pain and agony leading up to the promise of new life, through His Son, Jesus Christ.
Some may find the account below to fall into the TMI category. Others, though, are strangely drawn to the knitty gritty details of childbirth. Childbirth is kind of like watching a horror film, you know there is something scary, bloody and quite possibly excruciating lurking around the corner but you open that rickety old cellar door anyway. The traditional line of defense of baseball bat or large cleaver is replaced by breathing techniques and Hail Marys. Luckily the serial killer at the end is replaced by a cute, angelic baby.
Unfortunately, a stomach bug in the early hours of a Monday morning in November caused me to again reflect on the pains of childbirth. As I hovered over the toilet and later over the "big blue bowl" my anxiety increased as I wondered, "How am I going to do this?" "How am I going to be a parent today?" "It hurts SO bad!" I hopelessly groaned to Pete from the bedroom, "I think I may have to go to the hospital." The children were still asleep, fortunately, and Pete was just about ready to leave for work. He ended up taking the day off but did have to make a quick trip to a coworker in the area to get the right phone number to call since he recently lost his phone to the ol' Permanent Press and rinse monster. Praise God that once dispelling the contents of my stomach I felt much better. I rested in bed administering meals to Clement periodically while Pete otherwise adopted all childrearing responsibilities. By 4pm I was up and moving around having never experienced any other undesirable symptoms of the cold or flu. Consequently, I'm chalking the sickness up to something I ate. What that was...who could tell. It was Thanksgiving weekend after all!!
The point of this tangential tale you may ask.
I can honestly say that the cramping and pain I experienced on that Monday was worse than what I choose to recall from the birthing experience of our three sons. As a quick recap- with Luke my water broke at 37 and a half weeks but no contractions came. Pete and I walked around the hospital for hours-but still nothing. Eventually I was seen by the doctor (the only one in the practice I hadn't met yet) who cursed during our first consultation then and there and proceeded to use scare tactics. I was administered Pitocin to move things along. About 18 hours after my water broke I opted to get an epidural feeling tired and stressed. Luke arrived 25 hours after my water broke. Despite being "complete" and very ready to push an hour earlier I was then told to wait and "labor down" because we were waiting on Amy. Amy? Who the heck is Amy? Pete, typically rather peaceful and laid back spoke up and snapped, "What happened to the whole 24 hours mark? and "this baby's going to end up in the NICU if it's not out in 24 hours."?!?!?!? Nonetheless, after Amy arrived there was a quick coaching, three pushes and Luke was out.
Augustine was a different experience. Having moved back to Ohio with 3/5 of the pregnancy complete I opted to go to a single doctor. I've blogged about it before but basically was induced at 41 weeks. Augustine was born only 5 hours after the administration of Pitocin began and his face was purpley-blue with red marks as a result. I passed on the epidural with Augustine as I was not fond of the sensitive hole in my back, the longer wait time to walk after labor allowing for my legs to "wake up" and the nausea and sickness that ensued 12 hours after Luke was born. I did opt for a dose of Nubaine which made me a bit "whoozy" and relaxed. I remember the shocking brightness of the overhead lights that the doctor flipped on before the crucial point of pushing and took some mild satisfaction in involuntarily emptying the contents of my bladder at his feet given the snide remarks I endured from him over the last few days. The doctor and more than one of the nurses commented after the brief period of pushing with our slick warm second son resting on my bare chest that it was a "picture perfect" or "beautiful" birth that ought to have been videotaped for instructional purposes. The rave reviews of the performance of my nether regions made me feel both awkward and proud and so I turned my focus eager to inspect and appreciate every square centimeter of Augustine John. I was somewhat surprised by his strong latching ability and grateful that breastfeeding came more easily the second time around.
With the practice I chose with Clement we had the option of utilizing nurse-midwives. Having met with Jamie more consistently throughout the pregnancy, in the final trimester, it was revealed that Jamie would not be delivering and that Halle was covering as much as she could with regard to the patients. My water broke/gurgled around 11:00pm on June 30th. We called Grandma Angie over that night but I showered and rested atop towels at home waiting for labor to ensue. The contractions never really came despite having experienced more tightening/precursors in the last trimester than I had with Luke and Augustine. Dr. Downey seemed perturbed when Pete called in around 7am on July 1st and sternly directed us to report to the hospital. She did however allow us to walk the halls of Mercy and give my body a chance to move things along naturally. We did rounds of 60 minutes walking to 15 minutes on the monitor. Come 10:30am labor still had not hit and the doctor recommended starting the Pitocin, if only for a kick start. I slept for an hour or two to store up my energy comforted by the rhythmic beat of the baby's heart turned low on the monitor.
Fast forward a few hours and imagine my frustration as I stared at the monitor to see no increase in the height of the peaks for the contractions. I was certainly feeling more uncomfortable but only became more frustrated thinking, "I'm getting tired. How am I going to push? I don't know how much more of this I can handle? Why don't we have our baby in our arms yet?" With tears in my eyes I turned to the nurse to ask if I had progressed at all and if we could discuss pain management options. She asked, "How would you rate your pain?" which brought my mind to that stupid pain assessment graphic that I found ridiculously annoying adorning the hospital room walls. "I don't know. A six or a seven maybe? But I don't know how much more of this I can handle especially since the contractions aren't getting any stronger according to the monitor." "Oh! Don't go by the monitor honey. It's not all that accurate. The strap could slip around and the measurements could vary based on where the sensors are located. You have to go by how you're feeling."
You'd think with it being my third time around I would be a pro at this labor thing by now. After all, third time's a charm right?
"How much longer do I have?"
"Can I have some nubaine?" I inquired
"I can check."
The nurse extracted a small box containing nubaine from the cabinet and used her little radio to call the doctor. The doctor must have asked how far along I was. The nurse got her gloves and checked my cervix. She called the doctor back and reported that I was around seven centimeters. After a pause and listening intently the nurse bid the doc farewell and replaced her radio at her hip.
"The bad news is...you can't have the Nubaine. You're too far along and it could cause respiratory issues with the baby. ...The good news is... the midwife is on her way and will have some strategies to help manage the pain."
I managed to get myself up out of the bed in between contractions with a tangle of cords and tubes from the monitor and IV and settled in on the large orange birthing/exercise ball. This was a wonderful change from lying in bed where I could "rock n' roll" gently of course during the contractions and stabilize myself with the bed rail or Pete sitting nearby.
The midwife arrived within a half an hour and spoke softly and calmly through a couple contractions as I moaned and groaned and breathed.
"How much longer? When is it time to push?"
"Listen to your body. Your body will tell you. You tell me when." Halle responded calmly.
I found this response lovely, yet oh so irritating. Like, "How lovely, ..it's about time I've worked with someone supportive and in tuned to the natural way of childbirth." and " GRRRRRR....JUST TELL ME WHAT TO DO WOMAN!"
Sometime within the next ten minutes, Halle was helping me up from the ball to empty my bladder which would make a little more room for baby to descend. She applied firm pressure to both of my hips which felt glorious. We walked slowly across the span of the room. About three quarters of the way to the bathroom as Halle was trying to maneuver the IV stand along the journey it got disconnected and fell to the floor. She did her best to get me all put back together and into the bathroom where another contraction hit which made it slightly more challenging to relax and relieve myself.
Halle applied more pressure to my hips as we walked back across the room and a trio of crimson droplets dotted the floor.
"I need to lay down and stretch out a bit." I said.
Moments later Halle and the nurses were transforming the bed and assuming their positions for the pushing phase. "Okay Elise you're going to push down hard but don't forget to breathe."
In a matter of four or five pushes Clement was out, warm and gushy with a full head of dark black hair. He was on my chest less than five minutes before his lips started smacking, head a-bobbing and arms pushing to find his way to my breast. I giggled a little asking him, "Are you hungry son? Ready to eat Clement?" getting used to saying his name out loud. "Yeah, mommy too."
Halle and two other nurses worked competently throughout the room as Pete and I cherished the little form of God's marvelous creation, but also wondering and waiting to get all the vital statistics to pass on to family and friends. One of the nurses finally took Clement to clean him up (he was covered in meconium as he emerged from the womb) and take his measurements. I asked the other nurse for a throat lozenge because my throat hurt from the guttural noises I made during labor. Note to self: bring cinnamon discs or mints to suck on after IV is born as apparently the hospital had no such relief available.
Now, I don't know the Bobsy twins but that's all I could think of as a new set of nurses came in to bathe and check over Clement. They seemed so scattergoried and inefficient, dropping pens, misplacing measuring tapes and taking forever to complete the simplest of tasks as they carried on about their husbands and most recent lunch hour. All this was punctuated by Clement's impatient cries as he wiggled around in his birthday suit wishing, no doubt, that he was snuggled up close to mom again. (He's still more of a cuddler than Luke and Augustine ever were.)
Pete, Clement and I were all situated in our new room less than two hours after Clement's birth. I was very excited to greet Luke and Augustine and have them meet Clement. Augustine was apprehensive having not enjoyed the elevator ride up to the maternity ward, and somewhat taken aback by seeing mommy, with another baby, sitting up in a strange room and a strange bed. There are quite a few pictures below, some very similar but it was hard to choose only a few as the facial expressions change ever so slightly to reveal quite the range of emotions. It was such a wonderful feeling to be reunited with the rest of our family and make the first introductions. (Plus they came bearing some delightful loaded baked potato soup from Subway which tasted oh so good and helped with my sore throat ;-)
I suppose it's fitting that I FINALLY complete this post on Good Friday. Pain and agony leading up to the promise of new life, through His Son, Jesus Christ.
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