Maggie-Jo arrived on Saturday, May 15, 2:29 pm.

Weight: 7 lbs, 3 oz

Length: 19.5 inches

Mommy, Daddy, Jack-Evan and Maggie-Jo are all doing terrific
and are enjoying being at home, surrounded in cuddly pink-ness.

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Whew.

There comes a time when all parents throw up their hands and feel like running, screaming, naked through the night.

Who knew my time would come only 16 months after giving birth to this perfect, quiet, beautiful angel??

Jack-Evan, over the past 2 months, has finely tuned the art of the temper tantrum.  He’s in his terrible two’s – and not even 2 yet!  Sometimes I can’t blame the poor fellow though.  Growing up is hard to do.  After all, he is just learning to walk now so his physical abilities have yet to catch up with his desires (crawling just does NOT cut it in the speed department anymore).  He’s also testing out all of his new found skills, and sometimes they find him instead, such as when he attempts to unbuckle his seatbeat but just. can’t. mash. it hard enough. (Cue high pitched scream). And woe forbid should Mommy take 2.1 extra seconds to change a diaper or wash a face or arrive at his side. (Cue 6 more high pitched screams.)

It seems like my whole life right now is one giant scream and tantrum.  Every 5 minutes it’s something else.  Just tonight, after Jack completely melted during my attempt to wash his face, I asked him, “Why on earth can’t you just be normal for one day?!”  Then I remembered (for the 50th time), that he WAS being normal.  Normal for a toddler that is.  (Cue high pitched scream…from Mommy). Frustration and lack of communication ability rules his life right now.  Earlier today he was so mad, he literally turned red during his tantrum, had both fists closed in a tight ball, and was shaking….HARD.  It was quite a new addition to his tantrum repretoire and I hope he doesn’t remember to do it again tomorrow!  Thankfully he didn’t shoot his head backward at rocket speed like he normally does during a tantrum.  Just as long as he doesn’t connect the turning red / fist balled up / head thrown back dots, we may survive this stage.  I suppose his brain is just so active now that it carries him much further than his physical abilities allow him to truly go.   He understand what we say to him, yet when he tries to convey to us what he is thinking, or when he tries to do normal “adult” things,  it just doesn’t quite work the same way.  (Cue another high pitched scream). It makes me wish like crazy I would have taught him sign language the moment he left the birth canal.

Thankfully, I am noticing more words erupting each day.  He currently says: Mama, Mom, Hey, DaDa, Papa, Dog, Duck, Juice, Bubba (my uncle), Nurse (our word for breastfeeding), Go, I love you, Stop, No, and Yes.   He has said “Hey Mama” and “Hey Dada” and “I love mama / dada” but other than that he hasn’t put 2 words together yet.  There may be some more individual words, but I can’t think of them at the moment.  Within the past 2 weeks I’ve also noticed him becoming more adept at pointing at something when he wants to communicate.  I really do enjoy this new stage we’re entering now that each day means we communicate better and better.  It’s just so heartwarming to say various long things to him and have him understand completely what we have said!   It still amazes me when I ask him to do something he’ll go do it without any physical prompting (Go find your truck, Where is your duck?  Get your stroller and we’ll go for a walk!, It’s time to eat, Papa is coming in the door, etc).

And mentioning trucks and strollers!  Whew.  Besides temper tantrums, he is one active little boy.  He hardly ever stops to rest, unless it’s to climb up in my lap and ask with pleading eyes “Nur??  Nur??”  (Nurse).  I’ve been trying to wean him from daytime nursing for the past 2 weeks, so that is taking a toil on Jack as well.  (Cue extremely loooong high pitched, totally devastated scream). Otherwise, he’s always on the go, pushing something, pulling something, and climbing.  He doesn’t care for TV much, unless he’s the one pushing the buttons (he’ll stand in front of the TV and change channels all day if we let him!  He’s obsessed with pushing buttons!  Both on the remote and on the TV front).   That’s mostly due to the fact that we don’t watch much TV though.  I do hope he becomes interested in Seseme Street or Sid the Science Kid sooner or later.  He does enjoy Mister Rogers and will almost sit through an entire show, but unfortunately our PBS took it off the air! (Cue extremely high pitched scream from Mommy).

All in all, Jack-Evan is coming into his own little personality with the dawning of each new day.  He’s a very vocal, extremely strong-willed little person who believes he’s 10 feet tall – and becomes easily frustrated when the world shows him he isn’t.  He adores animals, meeting new people, and impressing the ladies.  He’ll do anything for a cheer & handclap, tends to be shy around groups of kids his own age (but loves one-on-one time), and is determined to make it on his own in this big, wide world.  However, his biggest confidence boost seems to come when Mommy is close by cheering him on, so as long as Mommy is waiting in the wing when it’s finally time to snuggle and nap, the world is a fine place to live.

But enough with the temper tantrums.  Those can go ASAP.

( Yeh, right, who am I kidding?  Welcome to parenthood….Tantrums and all.)

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Note:  This was written 3 days ago and I just remembered it was in my draft folder.  Would you believe that since then, a miracle seems to have happened!  Thursday morning, I felt like I woke up in an alternate universe.  Surely my real family was desperately searching for me somewhere! See… Not only did Jack-Evan make it through 2 full meals that day using very polite manners (AND without throwing anything on the floor) but he made it all day with only one tantrum!  Perhaps God does feel pity for haggard and harried Moms after all, because he certainly has been smiling down on me lately. haha!

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I feel like I’m in the backseat of a speeding car that I have absolutely no control over.    I’m looking out the window, and barely seeing the scenery that is changing and zooming by.  Suddenly, a breath-taking field of flowers appears, and I nudge the person beside me so they can share in the fleeting beauty as well.  But by the time they twist their eyes to look, the field has dissappeared, only to be replaced by even more lovely views.

Watching your children grow up feels just like that.

At 2:04 am on Sunday, May 4, 2008, I was in the hospital giving birth to my first son, Jack-Evan.   And now, today, I will be mailing off the last of his 1st birthday invitations.

We’re having his party -an old fashioned family grill out- at our house, in the large patio in the far back corner of our lot. It’s something I’ve dreamed of doing since we purchased this place shortly before we married – watching our future kids grow up and celebrating life and birthdays in that patio. That was long before Jack-Evan was even thought of, but now the time has come at last.   We have his party planned, music picked out, yard cleaned, guests invited, and the menu prepared. Decorations and paper products have even been purchased (thanks to our wonderful, sweet, thoughtful Aunt Bev in New York!).   In less than two weeks, we will be singing the traditional Happy Birthday song to Jack.

So why do I feel so sniffly inside?

Watching a child that you’ve given birth to grow and change and accomplish milestones is the most remarkable thing in the world. To sit and know that that little tiny human being with the runny nose, dirty knees, bright eyes, and uninhibited giggle was once a small cell inside of you is earth shattering.  To realize that one day when his 70 year old body, eyes, and teeth are failing, he will still remember you as “Mom”, is earth shattering.

To be a mom, period, is earth shattering. (Men think they rule the world – but they must stop to ponder that if it wasn’t for us ladies sheltering their tiny selves in our bodies in the first place, they’d by in quite a mess.)

My entire life, I had feared the moment of labor.  The foreknowledge of intense pain scared me out of my wits!  Let it be known here and now:  I do not handle pain well.     

Even through the moments leading up to his birth, I still greatly feared the pain.  Being the pain-wussy that I am, I gladly accepted pain killers and an epidural – but just as my luck runs, I believe the epidural skipped town just so it could mock me.  Five minutes into actual pushing, I cried out that I had decided I couldn’t do it afterall, I had changed my mind, so could we please stop?!  The pain at the actual crowning was so extreme that I felt as if I had ripped in two.  And without sugar coating, I’ll say that I also felt like I had dipped down into the firey pits of hell.  Yes, it actually was that intensely painful. 

But you know what?  The very instant he was out, all 19 purple inches of him lying there on the table, the pain immediately vanished and was replaced with a calming peace. It was over, and I realized it was all worth it.   After he was cleaned up (he had to be suctioned for meconium) and handed to me, my heart burst with such love and pride for him that I doubted I had room for any more love to grow.

But yet it has grown immensely.

Each day, from the moment he wakes up till the last moment when he drifts off to sleep with his little hand absentmindedly rubbing his hair, my love for him grows.  And each day, he does something that melts my heart once again, and I think maybe, just maybe, this is now the pinnacle of love.  

Yet each day, once again, I am proven wrong.  Somehow…somehow… I dare to say, I love him more now than the day he was born.  How is that possible?  To what fullness is the human heart capable of loving?  Is there ever any cap?  Is there ever any limit?  I’m coming to believe there is none.  

The height to which the heart is capable of loving is only capped by our finite mind’s inability to look into the future.

My little poopiehead (or “Tooter”, a name which he earned himself by laughing every time he toots) is now  exiting his baby days and beginning his trek through toddlerhood.  

And I feel like this magnificent present that I have given life to has only just begun to be unwrapped.

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NOTE:  I’m fully aware that not everyone cares about the gory details of my baby’s birth (especially you guys out there).  But…well..since this is a baby blog, childbirth is a huge part of life and thus deserves a special post all its own.  If you like these kinda things, keep reading.  If not…well…run!

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Ok.  So in part one, I made it to the hospital. 

As I’ve said earlier, I had a typical textbook delivery – OBGYN, hospital, pain meds, etc.  To throw all modern day thought to the wind, I didn’t even walk around once arriving at the hospital.  I couldn’t.  It hurt!  I am a complete wuss about pain.  Lying there on that bed, with contractions coming now almost back to back, the thoughts of putting my feet on the floor sent thoughts of falling flat on the floor reeling through my imagination.

After a bit of preliminary monitoring, the hospital decided I was definately in labor and they decided to keep me.  So…in goes the IV.  With all the pain, I was thinking I may have dialated more by this time but I was still at a flat 3 centimeters.  (Very disheartening!)

By 5:15 or so, I was all-but begging for nubain, and with great relief, it worked nicely.  What wasn’t nice was that nubain only lasts 2 hours.  The clock was ticking on my relief and I wasn’t far enough along for the hospital to give their epidural.  For “natural” pain relief, I had 2 pillows from home, an MP3 player with indian flute music (and nature sounds) playing, and a squeezy hand ball shaped like a light bulb (complete with cheesy smiley face).

Around 7:30, the nubain was wearing off and the nurse decides to check for dialation again (I’d made it to 5 centimeters!).  Whilst she was doing that, my water broke.  Now, often I have pondered how it is possible for “water” to “break”.  But, lemmetellyou, the moment it…broke…was so weird feeling that I no longer pondered that phrase.  To say you feel like you just pottied on yourself does not adequately describe it.  So anyway.  After that exciting event, the nurse scared me by uttering the often feared words of…

UH OH.

Yes.  Uh oh.   The baby had a bowel movement in the water and I learned now that 3 extra people would be joining us in the labor room – the respiritory team who would clear out his lungs after delivery and ensure all was A-OK.

And with that, the pain started in full force.  I’d always heard that after your water breaks, the pain gets worse – well, yes…I can attest to that.  For 30 minutes contractions were now coming back to back, pain (especially in my back – although I didn’t have back labor) was terrible, and I was crying like a baby (because the Nubain was now worn completely off).

And then…in walks my Super hero:  The Anesthesiologist.  HURRAY! My epidural had finally arrived.  Never in my life had I been so happy to see someone with a supersized needle. 

At our hospital, no one is allowed in the room during the epidural proceedure (not even dads) so all I had for comfort was nurse Christina and the epidural dude.  Oh, and the tears on my pillow.

Sitting up on the side of my bed, I curled my back like a cat and hugged the nurse like she was my long lost sister.  And howled like a cat.

In actuality it didn’t hurt near as bad as I had always thought it would, but I was shivering in fear and my body was already weak from handling the contractions.

Finally, it was over.  Just before he finished I felt 3-4 electrical jolts go through my right leg, which they said was normal.  (Later on it was my right leg that ended up the “deadest”!).  After taping the epidural tube up my back and on my shoulder, they helped me lay down and started the full loading dose.  And…wonderfully…after 10 minutes, the pain was miraculously gone.

Well.  Almost.

There was a portion of my bottom most nether regions that the epidural never deadened.   I believe that with the baby being so low for so long that those nerves had been cut off and was unable to receive the epidural dosing.  Because of that, I felt every push and every inch of the baby emerging…and even the final tear.  And it hurt.  Bad.  But I’m getting ahead of myself…

After the epidural was in, I was able to start enjoying myself and company more – and we had plenty of company that night!  Around 20 people joined us at the hospital awaiting the birth, and many trickled in and out of the labor room throughout the night. 

Around 9:30 pm, I had hit 7 centimeters and the epidural was wearing off for some unknown reason the nurse couldn’t explain – I was now feeling contractions in my stomach.  After “hitting the button for more” (as she described it) the pain still didn’t ease up so they called the anesthesiologist for a bigger bag.  It worked but still never deadened me where it counted most in the end!

At that time they also inserted a lushing tube (to thin out the meconium) and an internal contraction moniter – the only accurate way to measure their strength.  In their opinion they said the contractions weren’t stong enough according to their machine.  The doctor looked at me and said “We’re ging to start the pitocin now.”

Exuse me????

Pitocin is a medicinal drip in the IV that speeds up contractions.

Again….excuse me!!?? 

“No, you will not.”  I said.  “There is no imminant danger to me nor my baby.  My body is working fine.”

He seemed a little taken aback, but agreed to come back in 2 hours (at midnight) to check my progression.

At 11:30 pm I was at 9 centimeters and +2 station.  And by 12:30 am I had reached full dialation an 100% effaced on my own.  And I truly felt wonderful!

From 12:30 am to 1:30 am I was allowed to “labor down naturally” with no pushing, no pain.  Then at 1:30 am the fun started!  The baby was crowning and the pushing began.  My husband and my 2 cousins (Carrie & Tammy)  were in there as my support team.  Pushing came pretty naturally for me as I could feel each contraction start and the method was easy enough.  Thankfully I didn’t lose my pre-pregnancy flexibility either, and got quite a few chuckles from the hospital staff as I placed my legs behind my head. 

Now.  I must say that I am eternally greatful for the pain medication I had during this labor.  The pain as the baby’s head emerged was so enormous that I simply cannot imagine what it may have felt like without medication.  I have never in my life felt such tremendous pain.  All lamaze breathing techniques were lost on me as I started hyperventalating, crying, and screaming.

And then the nurse had the gumption to tell me numerous times not to vocalize.  “Stay quiet and Internalize that pressure!” was her phrase of choice.  I wanted to hit her.

I finally told her to shut up (but in a nicer way) and thankfully the doctor backed me.  I simply could not make it without crying out.  It hurt way too bad.

The doctor’s phrase of choice was “Push through the pain and burning”.

I wanted to hit him too.

Oddly enough I didn’t want to hit Kevin.  Probably because he didn’t say one word during the whole pushing experience.

After what seemed like an eternity to me – but was actually only 30 minutes – the rest of the baby’s head emerged and I felt like I went into another universe or into the depths of hell itself.  After that final push, the head popped out and the body flew out behind him. 

Now, I had never thought to imagine what that final stage might feel like – but letmetellyou, a baby’s 19.5 inch body emerging from yours feels akin to all of your internal organs being flushed out of you.  It was the most weirdest sensation i the universe. 

So there I was, enduring the most horrific pain I’d ever thought possible, feeling like I was in another universe, feeling like I had torn in two (and actually had, I soon learned), and feeling like all of my internal organs had been flushed out of me.

But once I lifted my head and saw my baby laying there on that blue plastic sheet, and heard his first cry, all thoughts of pain were gone.  It was as if it dissappeared in one split second. 

It was 2:04 am, Sunday morning, May 4, and my long awaited baby Jack was finally here.

The tears I was crying now were happy, joyous tears.  “Ohhhh my baby boy..my baby boy..Oh my God, he is so beautiful” were my first words I remember saying.  Kevin had the chance to cut the umbilical cord, and since I was now in a very happy state, I screamed in mock pain as Kevin snipped with the scissors.  I think it broke his tension as he had yet to say a word or move more than an inch since the pushing began.

Then I heard Jack’s cry.  And what a beautiful little cry it was! “Ohhhh I love his voice, listen to his voice!” I was saying to no one in particular.

Everyone was running around the room now in a flurry of activity.  The respiritory team had cleared him up, the nurses had cleaned him up, his apgars were being done (results: 8, 9), his weight (6 lbs 11.5 oz) and all of the first-things-first stuff.  Kevin got to hold him first – the nurses even abliged Kevin’s request to put Jack’s little feet prints on the front of the blue hospital scrubs he had begged to wear (they weren’t mandantory).

 Everything was going by so fast!  Relatives were now coming in, cheers were going up, and I was still boo-hooing.  Holding Jack for the first time, wrapped up in his little blankie, was the best moment of my life.  He was so alert and calm.  Some mothers are unfortunate enough not to feel an immediate bond with their baby.  I felt the strong eternal bond the moment his little eyes held mine.  I was hooked and now deeply in love with the cutest little man in the world.

He was all mine, and (at least for the next two decades) no one will ever take him away from me.  He’s mine to cherish, spoil, raise, teach, guide and love.  And I’m committed whole-heartedly to him.

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Trying to think of a way to capture Jack’s birth story is hard.  Going through labor was like living a dual existance – the physical, which hurt…badly…and then the mental / spiritual, where I couldn’t believe that a new life was about to emerge from none other than my own body.  In the words of my cousin – I had 2 souls in me.  That alone was a hard concept to grasp.  To think that soon that new soul would be living independantly outside of my comfy tummy was astounding.

In today’s world, homebirths, water births, midwives, and non-medicated laboring is a growing trend.  Let me say resoundly that for my first baby I was not and had no intention of being part of this trend.  I’m a wuss when it comes to pain!  Truly.  So while I admire those women who have the gumption to go through birth au’ natural – I was not one of them.

My pregnancy and entire labor was pretty text-bookish.  A group practice OBGYN with a hospital birth – along with pain meds (nubain and epidural) was my route of choice.  While I have some doubts in my mind as to whether I want to go with a regular OBGYN again, I do not regret my choice to use an epidural.  I think I may have just completely died without it!  But more on the horrible pain later…

My long awaited due date was May 6.  On Sunday, April 27, I felt the big IT for the first time.  The IT, of course, being those long awaited contractions.  They were 5 minutes apart and continued through Wednesday.  Thankfully they were in no way painful during those days.  If they would have been I might have asked for a rain check to continue this process next year! 

At my final prenatal appointment, on Wed. April 30, Dr. Nancy said I was a full 3 cm’s dialated and could go at any time. “Whoohoo!” I thought, excitedly.  Maybe I would get out of this without pain!

No such luck.

The contractions halted on Thursday and Friday – and then Saturday, at noon, they appeared back at my belly’s doorstep….ringing the bell loudly and (this time) knocking HARD.

So.  Noon it was.  I felt that instinctual “hey, this is it!” as the pain started to grow bit by bit.  After a bit of final packing (and a wee bit of happy dancing), Kevin and I loaded up and headed to my parents house where I got to take the imfamous final bath & shave before heading to the hospital.  After the bath, an hour was spent timing contractions (shortest was 1.5 mins apart and longest was 3.5 mins apart) – and then the call to the doctor was made to let him know we were on our way to the hospital.

After arriving at 4 pm, check-in on the 2nd floor maternity ward went really smoothly (thanks to pre-registration and a previous early labor scare).

And there I lay.  In the labor room of the hospital.  In pain.  And in the middle of the most miraculous moment in my life.

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(((((Ladies and gentlemen, this post has been inturrupted by a hungry lttle miracle. 
We will return to your regularly scheduled postings later))))

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