The BIG Meeting

So here we are.
Ten days into this family of four thing.
And just like the first time around with the whole parent gig, I had no idea how much love was humanly possibly. The type of love that comes from somewhere so deep in your heart that you don't even have the words to explain it.

All I know is that spending so much quality time together as a family, the kind where we only leave the house for a quick grocery run or doctor's appointment, completes my heart and soul. And that I'm walking around like a school girl in love for the first time. It's quite pathetic really.

There, of course, have been moments of adjusting. Where I've thought to myself nearly every 30 minutes, Oh my goodness, how in the world will I do this solo when Gabe goes back to work? Times where Lyla has needed some extra cuddles, attention, and something "special". Which, by the way, works like a charm. I tell her to sit in the "special chair" or put on her "special slippers". And the fact that I'm distracted with Adaline seems to not matter quite as much because she gets to do something...special. And our visitors have been wonderful as they haven't forgotten Big Sis Lyla when bringing a little something for the new baby.

Thanks to our friends for thinking of Big Sis when gifting the new baby!

All around, this big change for our family has been leaps and bounds easier than I was anticipating. And in a most positive way, Lyla's adjustment has been most surprising. Aside from her typical toddler moments, she has just taken this whole new baby situation in stride. She adores her baby sister and even seems to understand when my hands are tied and can't help her with something. {But again, check back with me once Gabe has gone back to work. I may have sprouted a few gray hairs at that point.}

Right after Adaline was born, we spent time getting to know Miss A better in those first few hours. Those precious, intimate hours that, as a mother, I will mentally go back to over and over again for the rest of my life. There is something about meeting a perfect stranger - one that you carried for nine months.

But once we'd had our fill of time as mom, dad, and new baby, all I could think about was getting our other baby to the hospital to join us! I missed her so much and was ready to have our entire family together for the first time.

But in the same breath, I'd broken myself out of the newborn trance and felt a bit nervous about introducing our new pair of sisters. What if Lyla hated her new sister? Or even worse, what if she felt replaced? The thought of her feeling sad twisted my insides.

In fact, I felt so nervous, I had the desperate urge to get out of bed and just move around. To get dressed in normal clothes. To take my mind off the nerves. Unfortunately, my left leg was still completely numb from the epidural. I had to lift it with my arms and couldn't put my entire weight on it yet. But I was determined to shower before Lyla joined us at the hospital. So, I stubbornly told everyone I "pretty much" had all the feeling in my leg and ignored their commands for me to stay in bed until I gained full feeling. Didn't they know I was about to experience a first meeting with my two littles?

I refused to have labor and delivery hair.

So after a huge THUD in the shower, and Gabe running in to find me flat on the hard tile floor, there was no hiding the fact that I fell. So, they slapped a HIGH RISK bracelet on my arm and labeled my room with a big red star that indicated I was a "faller". Ugh. I just wanted to be presentable for my children. {Holy cow. As in plural: children.}

We got the call from my parents telling us that they had arrived at the hospital with Big Sister. And I truly felt like I was going on a blind date. The plan was for Gabe to go outside the room, hold and love on Ly, then bring her in to meet the new baby who was in the little hospital crib. At first, Ly wasn't too sure. Why is mom in a a bed? Why is there a random baby? Why is everyone I love in the same room staring at me? 

But it only took a matter of minutes before she fell hard for her new little sister.

And to continue with the theme of making Lyla feel special, we gave her her very own baby to love on and feed and take care of.

But she was way more interested in the real deal. And she made sure to point out every single little body part of Adaline's: "little nose", "little ears", "little hair"...

These memorable moments were so incredibly beautiful to us. I, for one, always wanted a sister. So to see the connection and bond that was made instantly upon their first meeting made my heart explode. And Gabe? Well, let's just say he is the perfect dad for girls. And his girls have made me see a side of him I didn't know existed. He's a puddle of mush.

After the big meeting, we were so very ready and excited for some rest.

Case in point:

Yes. Labor takes it out of the dads too. 

Unfortunately, the hospital is not the place for rest. The one place where people need rest the most and are unable to get it. Ironic, huh? Staff members in and out of your room all.night.long. and then all the next morning too. I think I counted 10 or 11 different hospital staff coming in and out, disturbing our sleep, turning on the lights, poking and taking stats on the baby, taking my breakfast order, taking my blood {at 3 am!!!}, asking if I'd gone to the bathroom, checking my blood pressure, asking if we wanted newborn photography, showing us how to set up an online health account, blah, blah, blah. I can't explain the rage I felt and wanted to scream,  Can't you see we're all trying to sleep?!?!

I just don't remember that the first time around after having Lyla. Maybe it's because I was awake the entire night paranoid that she was going to stop breathing.

This time around, I just wanted rest.

Luckily, we only had to stay in the hospital one night. While waiting to be discharged, we made the most of our morning by staring at our new baby, stealing so many cuddles, and reminiscing and comparing Lyla and Adaline's births.

Why yes. I did in fact just give birth and go the past 48 hours without sleep.  

But finally, it was time to go HOME. Home with our new baby and home to see our older baby.

Going home never felt so sweet! And was so sweet watching the sisterly bond form. Lyla loves being a big sister and she is so in awe of her Baby Adaline.

And we are too.

With both of our girls.

Girls.

That has such a nice ring to it.

Adaline Mae: A Birth Story

Our baby is here.

The baby that I undoubtedly was sure was a he is in fact a SHE.



That's right. We are proud parents of girls.
Sisters.

Words can't begin to describe how natural it all feels, how beautiful every moment has been.
I just love the newborn daze. Where you walk around in a sleepless, yet completely and totally blissful state that feels like a dream where you have no idea what day it is. And it doesn't even matter. Because you are so painfully happy with your snuggly little newborn.

And what they say is true - your love doesn't divide, it multiplies.
And man, are we in love.

Miss Adaline Mae made her appearance on Thursday, October 23rd, 2014 at 6:09 a.m. weighing 8.4 pounds and measuring at 20 inches long.

And this is her story.

{It's a long one. With lots of details. Because those are what are so easy to forget, and I refuse to do so.}

It all started on Wednesday, the morning of Gabe's 30th birthday. I woke up extra early, cursing the fact that I had stayed up too late on my very pregnant feet prepping for a special birthday breakfast. It was worth it though. Because it was just an ordinary day for Gabe. One where he planned to go into work an hour late and come home in decent time so we could go on a birthday movie date. **Don't let anyone fool you. Things get crazy in your 30's. Especially if you go into labor.**

Lyla had been sick for a couple of weeks, and I was really starting to get restless in the evenings waiting on baby. So suffice it to say, I hadn't gotten a good night's sleep in awhile. I was tired and woke up not feeling my best.

We celebrated with swiss and mushroom quiche, pumpkin french toast bake, and pumpkin spice coffee. Then Gabe headed to work, and I went about my day as usual. Although I really wasn't feeling myself, was having quite a few intense Braxton Hicks contractions, and felt a tremendous amount of very uncomfortable pressure. At times, it felt like the baby was about to fall out at any moment. But Lyla and I still made it out for a long walk and a trip to the park for a picnic lunch and some time on the swing.

There were points throughout the day where I had the thought of how funny it would be if I went into labor on Gabe's {and Samson's} birthday. But, I'd had that same thought for the past two weeks and was losing sleep over the anticipation of going into labor. I was nearly two weeks early with Lyla and was just sure I'd be early with this one. But with each passing day, I got more and more disappointed. There was the time I "knew" it was happening that weekend because I had stomach bug symptoms. Same thing happened with Lyla the day I went into labor. But instead, it turned out to be the actual stomach bug. Then, {warning: TMI} I lost my mucus plug on Monday and was absolutely positive labor was imminent because when I lost it with Ly, I went into labor the next morning.

But no signs of labor on Tuesday. And today, Wednesday, I was having some of the same symptoms I'd had for weeks. Besides, I was starting to think this baby was planning to stay cozied up in my belly until Thanksgiving.

I rested a bit while Lyla napped and got ready for our big date night. Decided to snap a belly pic...little did I know this would be my very last. Three days before my due date.

Clueless that today was *finally* the day

My mom came over to watch Lyla while Gabe and I went to our first movie in over a year. I only wish I had felt better. Nevertheless, I was excited for an evening out with my love. I waddled into the Gone Girl theater, and Gabe ordered a beer for himself and a water for me.

Fifteen minutes into the movie, there it was. My first contraction. Now, up until this point, I was going crazy by questioning for the past few weeks, Was that a contraction? Like a real one? Will tonight be the night? How can I not remember when I've gone through this before? Turns out Braxton Hicks contractions can play mind tricks on you. Even when you've had them consistently since 20 weeks.

But the moment a "real one" hit, I instantly remembered. There was no question in my mind.

It's funny how you can go through one of the most can't-be-put-into-words painful experiences of your life and forget what it felt like. I guess that's why many have more than one kid.

Twenty minutes later, I had another. A bit more intense than the last. I began to get excited. Then terrified. Then hit complete denial. Ohmygoodness. Is this it? Could this really be the night? I might meet my baby soon! Well shoot. I'm not ready. I don't want to go through labor. Lord can I just skip that part? Nah. There's no way I'm in labor. It's Gabe's birthday. 

But there it was again. My third contraction in 45 minutes. I began to time them by watching the conveniently lit clock in the movie theater while Gabe watched the movie completely oblivious.

Enjoying his beer and his 30th birthday.

Taken 15 minutes before I went into labor

Sure enough, my contractions were fairly consistent, averaging about every 20 minutes. One contraction stands out specifically as it ironically occured during a super intense scene. I thought I was going to fall out of my chair. After that one was over, I leaned over to Gabe and whispered that I was pretty sure I was in labor but definitely wanted to stay and finish the movie.

Once the movie was over, I was in denial. I didn't feel it was time to go to the hospital just yet as my contractions weren't - in my mind - completely consistent. So we decided to go home. And on the way home, I'll never forget the suggestion Gabe made, "Well, if you really are in labor, maybe we should go home and try to get some sleep. I mean, it could be morning before you have this baby. "

Ok. It was a good idea in theory. But "If I really was in labor", there definitely would be no sleeping because of: 1. Excitement and 2. A little thing called pain.

We got home to relieve my mom of her babysitting duties, and I filled her in by warning her I could possibly be in labor. She said she'd go home right away and change her clothes "just in case". My contractions were now 15 minutes apart. And believe it or not, I really did try to lay down and rest, but they were too strong and painful. So Gabe made a better suggestion than the previous - that we try to watch a movie. So we began watching Catching Fire. He paused every time I had a contraction and made a note in his phone. We didn't make it very far into our second movie of the night. I was consistently having contractions 8-10 minutes apart for about an hour.

Ok. Time to go to the hospital.

We left the moment my stepdad got to our house to stay with Lyla. Oh my goodness. This really is it! The moment I'd been waiting for for weeks, and it still didn't seem real.

The rest of the night, I had the same thought over and over again: This couldn't be any more different than the night I had Lyla. And as much as Lyla's labor and delivery was one of the most cathartic and beautiful experiences and proudest moments of my life, I kept thinking how happy I was that this one was different.

Like how I had 1 contraction in the car on the way to the hospital in contrast to the 7 I had with Lyla. {Simply because with Lyla, we stayed at home until the last possible minute, with the hope of having a more comfortable and successful natural childbirth}. Or how I only contracted several times in the hospital while waiting for my room {and could actually answer the admittance questions}, whereas I contracted nearly a dozen times and once on the public restroom floor with Lyla.

After checking in just before midnight, the nurse escorted me to my room. Sharing in the entire birth experience with me was Gabe, my mom, and my mother-in-law. Some may find that odd, but I wouldn't have it any other way. I had the very best team cheering me on.

Once we got to the room, contractions were still 8-10 minutes apart - painful but bearable. However the pressure and the labor shivers began immediately. {I would then have chattering shivers for the rest of the entire night}. But oh my goodness the pressure - I'm not sure I could ever forget that feeling. I used the restroom once, and vowed to not do it again because I was sure the baby was going to come straight out.

I got checked and was dilated to 5 cm and 90% effaced. However, the resident wouldn't admit me at least for another hour as they wanted to see if I was progressing. Annoyed, I leaned over to Gabe and said "If this isn't real labor, then I'm just not doing it." Which I'm pretty sure were the exact words I used when I was in labor with Lyla.

After an hour, I was positive I had progressed as I had some powerful gut-wrenching contractions. But what do you know. I sure didn't progress. I was still a 5. However, I was 100% effaced. So they went ahead and admitted me, to which I responded, "Ok, so when can I have the drugs?"

UGH. I had to wait to switch rooms, be completely admitted, and for insertion of the IV lock. As nervous as I was, I was ready for the juice. We hadn't prepared for a natural childbirth like we did with Lyla. All I cared about in this exact moment was for the misery to go away.

At this point, it still hadn't hit me that we were going to meet our baby tonight. I was just focusing on getting through the contractions and not pushing out the baby...yet. I knew the moment a contraction was beginning, starting low and dull and not wasting anytime before exploding into intense gut-gripping torture that literally took my breath away as it wrapped all the way around my torso to my back. The nurse gave me an exercise ball to counteract the pressure. This felt like a little slice of heaven the moment I sat down. That is, until the pressure intensified and I wanted nothing more than to just PUSH. {If you weren't catching on, theme of the night: lots of pressure.}

So happy to feel relief. Even for just a few moments. 

All I really remember during this period of labor was the waiting. And the fact that Gabe was the best support system ever - just like the first time around.

Once we got to my new room, I had progressed to a whopping 6cm. And then more waiting. I finally heard the nurse call anesthesia and ask for someone immediately. I started to tremble as she explained to them that my blood pressure was incredibly low (nothing new there) and that my doctor suggested I get extra IV fluids and receive the epidural while laying down as I have a history of passing out. Well, we got off to a rocky start as the nurse couldn't even get in the IV lock because my veins were "way too small". Poor Gabe, this was the only time he left my side so that he could gather composure and do his best not to pass out himself while the nurse dug at my arm desperate to find a vein while I kept screaming "OW. Stop!!!". This was just as painful as the contractions I was trying to breathe through, and I was yelling at Gabe to come back so I could squeeze his hand. But I knew the moment he turned around that he wasn't feeling well - his face was the color of pea soup.

At this point, the resident checked me and I was still 6 cm. I'd only progressed 1 cm in the span of 2 hours. Not the most encouraging. But I was so relieved once anesthesia walked in. It was a young, and quite adorable gal named Kate. This somehow made me feel some relief. I told Kate I was very nervous as I'd never done this before, and she was so patient as she guided me through the whole process.

It took a bit longer than I expected for the juice to kick in, nearly 40 minutes. I contracted 5 or 6 times, a few very long and intense contractions, while waiting. But finally, I began to feel some relief, AND I could still move my legs. I had no idea that was possible! And once I no longer felt the contractions, I teared up and was overcome with emotion. NOW, I was able to focus on the fact that it was almost time to meet my baby. And I'm pretty sure I told everyone who came into my room how amazing epidurals are and asked if I could have one everyday. I couldn't believe that I was able to relax, breathe, chat with Gabe and our moms, and even laugh.

The resident came in and checked me again. Still a 6. I nearly cried. So, they decided to break my water in hopes that I would begin progressing a bit more quickly.

Then, this is where things get a bit foggy. I remember my nurse and the resident storming in. The nurse put oxygen on me, when suddenly 6 or 7 other hospital staff members, including the anesthesiologist, came barging in. Our moms got up out of their chairs. Gabe sat there patiently rubbing my hand. I just remember everyone staring at the baby's heart rate monitor. I began to cry. I begged for someone to tell me what was going on. No one said a thing. So, I asked again. Finally, someone told me (I have no idea who) my blood pressure dropped quite a bit as did baby's heart rate. They began putting me in different positions. When finally, the baby's heart went back up to a normal rate.

Talk about a scare. All I could picture was them unhooking all my monitors and rolling me out into the OR for an emergency C-Section.

Instead, the resident checked me and I was a 7. I was actually progressing. Woo-hoo!

Because I was no longer in pain and the feeling of pressure had subsided *woo-hoo* we all decided to rest as we really had no idea how much longer it would be. Gabe turned on Law and Order SVU and our moms tried to take cat naps on the incredibly uncomfortable couches. I remember lying there thinking "I can't believe I'm actually relaxing during labor. And that this is actually somewhat enjoyable."

At 5 something, the nurse came in, checked me, and exclaimed that I was AC ("Almost Complete") just like I was with Lyla. I was dilated to 9.5 cm! I couldn't believe it, we were going to meet our baby soon...and even better, we were going to find out the sex!

When out of nowhere, down went my blood pressure again. And down went the baby's heart rate. This time, we didn't have the entire crew come in as baby's heart went up to normal much quicker. But still scary nonetheless. At this point, the intensity of the pressure was so great, I told the nurse that I wasn't sure how much longer I could wait to push. So she checked me, and things were sort of a blur, but I vividly remember her nonchalantly saying that I had reached 10 cm - fully complete!

I got so excited I couldn't see straight.

...Until she told me we had to wait on the doctor.

I'm sorry. What?

So for 30 *miserable* minutes, I willed my body not to push as badly as it wanted to. And I waited. Some moments felt like the baby was going to come out on it's own - push or not. When the nurse checked me again and said she could see the babe's head.

Ah. So that's why I felt the sensation to push.

She got back on the phone with doctor who told her to have me begin pushing. So, I pushed through one contraction and the nurse abruptly said, "Ok. We're not going to push anymore. We're just going to wait on doctor." You know, because baby was ready to come out at that moment.

But alas. My doctor finally arrived around 6 am and immediately began coaching me on what to do. She let me know every time I had a contraction, and I pushed with every bit of strength I had. I no longer had patience. I just wanted to meet my new baby. As fuzzy and blurry as those intense moments are, I remember the cheering and the "you're doing so good, keep it up". I remember hearing the mom's cry and yell out, "Aww. There's the head!" I remember reaching down and feeling the warm head of hair on my baby who was almost, but not quite here. And I remember internally reciting "I CAN do all things through Him who gives me strength" with every single push. I was so ready to get that warm dewey newborn on my chest.

After 10 minutes and 3 sets of 3 pushes, there it was. That beautiful, long-awaited and coveted cry. The moment I heard it, I began sobbing uncontrollably. My baby was here! I looked over at Gabe who was beaming. And after a few moments, he casually said, "I won".

I had completely forgotten about the sex. I was just so happy to hear my baby crying. "REALLY? It's a GIRL?"

I couldn't believe I was so wrong. Our gift was a GIRL!A beautiful, healthy, girl. And a SISTER for Lyla.

I sobbed even harder.

And they placed this new life on my chest while I continued to cry and cry. "Thank you Jesus," I said over and over. I felt so much love for this stranger - our newest family member, and I felt even more love for my husband. Together, we brought this miracle into the world.

I was on my usual after-labor happy high for the next few hours. The hours when nothing else in the world mattered except sitting in my bed, skin-to-skin with my new daughter. Dreaming of the girly fun we'll have.

Ah. Those magical hours of bonding. It's just you, your partner, and the new life you brought into the world together. Nothing comes close to comparing. Absolutely nothing.

And then we spent the next 12 hours very much awake with our new baby. There was no chance of sleeping as we wanted to spend time with our new little friend. So many cuddles, smiles, and lots of happy tears. Plus, we couldn't hardly wait to share the news and show her off.

Adaline stole our hearts the moment we heard that first little cry. And it was time to begin our new life as a family of four.

I was so happy, I couldn't see straight.

**Up next: Meeting Big Sis and Addie-Mae's first day in the world!!!**

Fall favorites as a fam of THREE

Hello. Here I am.
Yes. I'm surprised too.
Not necessarily bad surprised, just surprised.

We are still a family of three.
Just waiting on our sweet little nugget to arrive.

Oh the waiting.

Good thing I have a cute toddler to keep me entertained.

The most frustrating part is that I still have 5 days until my due date. So I really have no right to have ants in my pants just yet. And I *annoyingly* feel better than I have my entire pregnancy - like I could carry this baby for 3 more months. {Heavens mercy me, let's hope not}.

It's just that I (and many others) truly thought I'd be snuggling my newbie by now. I had Lyla at 38 weeks, my doctor has told me over and over that it's historically common for mamas who have their first early will have subsequent babies early, I've been measuring ahead, and I've had signs of imminent labor for a couple of weeks now.

Not to mention all the lovely texts and messages that are messing with my head asking if I'm still pregnant. Or if there's a baby yet. It really means so much having friends and family check on us. But, I promise we are not keeping our baby a secret, and I promise you will know once he or she has arrived. :)

It is just a bit surreal because this past weekend was a milestone in my mind. Way back in the summer when I was planning out my calendar, and when I finally decided on a last day date for my job, I specifically remember penciling in events on my calendar for this past weekend. I did so with a smirk on my face because I knew Gabe and I probably would not be participating in any festivities this weekend because we'd have a newborn.

I was just sure of it.

Well. Here we are. The weekend has come and gone. And I'm still pregnant.

Very pregnant.

But quite honestly, I really am okay with that. We've had amazing family time, I've had so much fun with Lyla, and this baby is doing his/her job by staying put and growing. Plus, baby is quite cozy in there, and we are all cozy getting our sleep on. Who am I to wish that would end?

But let's be honest. All of those things still don't take the ants out of my pants...

-----------------------

We really have had the most delightful fall-filled weekends as a family of three. And I am so thankful we've had the time together.

Two weekends ago, we spent our Saturday morning at Entz Apple Orchard. This is absolutely one of my most favorite fall traditions. I love supporting this family-run orchard, and Lyla has the best time picking and snacking along the way. She thinks she's the biggest of kiddos.

This year, I made the mistake of dressing like my toddler. So awkward. I swear it wasn't planned...it's just that Ly looked so darn cute, and I was 37 weeks pregnant and had really run out of options. {I've pretty much been on a 3 outfit rotation for the last 3 weeks.}

The tacky matching cheese-factor is almost painful. But we still managed to get some cute pics regardless.

Our last picture as a family of three? 

Nope. 

And then this past weekend, while I anxiously anticipated labor, we hung with friends for the K-State game, celebrated a good friend's 30th birthday (and even stayed out past 9:30...whaaattt???), and went to the pumpkin patch.

For the past 2 years, we've always gone to Walter's Pumpkin Patch with our "crew" - a near and dear group of friends who have kiddos the same age and who share the same love for fall traditions. We had it on the calendar for months {even though I was sure we wouldn't be joining}, but it was our plan to go with them IF I wasn't in labor or IF I didn't have a newborn.

Well, I had neither and we still didn't go with our crew. Thanks to my Mother-in-Law who scared the bejoobies out of me by reminding me that I'm 39 weeks pregnant, and that driving over 45 minutes away with our toddler in tow may not be the best idea. I wasn't exactly prepared to deliver a baby on the side of the highway.

So we opted for a more local patch and ended up meeting up with some of our good pals anyway. And Lyla was pretty stoked because she got to hang out with her best bud since birth.

And for the record, Gabe always likes to point out that these two tots are "just friends". But I'm not so sure...

Just a couple of "friends"

Going to the patch almost trumps my weekly pumpkin spice lattes every fall. Ironically, I was begging the baby to stay put through the weekend so we could in fact make our traditional stop at the patch. I didn't think baby would actually listen, but I'm so happy he/she did. Lyla loved chasing Dad through the corn maze, continuously begged for "Cal hold muh hand", fed the animals and then proceeded to suck her thumb before I could sanitize it, and felt like the biggest of kids walking away with her prized pumpkin.

Goodness I love fall. And I love that baby hung on for one more weekend so that we could enjoy fall.

But now, I'm ready for you, Baby. Go ahead and make your debut. 

Who am I kidding? At this rate, I'm sure I'll be blogging about our Halloween...with a babe still in belly.