Hi there, friends. Long time no blog. As you probably know, we’ve been busy little bees over here tending to the newest addition to our family, Jane Kathryn. 🙂
I’m starting to have a wee bit of time to do a little blogging so I’m hoping in the coming days I can document what I remember of Jane’s birth and share what we’ve been up to these past six months.
Fast-forward to the following Friday. Five days later…five loooooong days later. I went in for my check-up, the one I hoped to not make it to, and still … nothing. Nada. My awesome Doctor did what she had to do to get things moving along and we spoke about getting me in for an induction ASAP, after all, I make some large babies and at this point in the pregnancy Baby K was weighing in as a nine pound baby. In my mind, however, Baby was coming that day, no need to worry about an induction. I mean, I went in to labor on my own with the previous two, surely this baby would do the same for its Mama, right?
Anyhow, Jon and I left the appointment and decided to kill some time by driving to a car dealership and to test drive a mini-van, because – you know – that’s what you do when you’re five days overdue. We went to lunch, as well, but I couldn’t eat much whilst anticipating contractions at any given moment. After test driving the mini-van I received a call from the hospital informing me that I was all set to come in on Sunday at 5:00 p.m. Okay, sure. That was exciting and all, but I was having our baby that day, remember?
Guess what? The day came and it went and still…nothing. Ugh.
Saturday rolled around…nothing. I was defeated. My body hurt. My indigestion was better, but still lingering. The house couldn’t possibly get any cleaner. I was ready. Jon was ready. We were all ready.
I woke up on Sunday morning aware that we were to go to the hospital to have a baby. I cleaned the entire couch…by hand, mind you, because why not?
I had this weird feeling…almost like a feeling that I knew that day wasn’t the day…that I wasn’t going to have the baby…a little in denial, perhaps or something more? Who knows??
Grandma and Grandpa made the two our trek to our house. They were nice and early. We had stew in the slow-cooker and my bags were packed. I took one last shower and thought to myself how odd it was to be gearing up to have a baby without having contractions. We took pictures one last time as a family of four, hugged Henry and Eliza, I held it together, got into the car and off we went.
On the way to the hospital Jon reminded me that the the nurse had told me to call up to the birthing center an hour before arriving. The hospital was 45 minutes away, so I figured we’d be all set and that I was just letting them know of our impending arrival.
You guys…YOU GUYS – I called and they told me they had some other inductions and to turn around and go home. What??? OMGosh! Now, I know there are far, faaaaaarrrr worst things in this world, but at that moment I was NOT a happy pregnant camper. We had prepared all day for this moment…all weekend…all week. I texted my AWESOME Doctor, yes, texted and we came up with a game plan. Seriously – I absolutely love her. She, at this moment, gave me hope – BUT I told Jon I couldn’t go home right away to see the kids and my in-laws. I was NOT in a good state of mind. LOL! So Jon took me to Jimmy John’s (my pregnancy craving) and I ate my meal as we sat in an automatic car wash. Oh my gosh, I must have looked pathetic. Jon called his parents and told them what was happening. My in-laws were completely understanding. So much so that they ended up getting a hotel that night rather than stay with us. As much as I didn’t mind them staying at our house, it was a blessing for me to have the evening to myself. I took in the kids, the house, the quiet and I was calm.
We were told to call back at 6:00 a.m. the following morning. Monday. 8 days past my due date. Okay, here we go again. I woke up, called – no go. They said to call back around 9:00. Okay, great. Jon and I got the kids around for school. Jon took Henry and Eliza to school while I stayed back and tried to relax. I called the birthing center at 9 and they said they’d be ready for me at noon, but to call back at 11:00, just to be sure. I made the call. OH – I made the call…BEFORE leaving.
Just before 2:00 she arrived and broke my water. Jon and I were told to sit for just a bit and then to start walking. Again, something I hadn’t experienced with the other two kids. I was in a bed with the other two and laboring all along. So, once we were given permission, we hit the hallways and circled and circled and circled. I’d say about the 6th – 7th time we walked the hallway circle I started to feel little contractions…we circled a few more times and then they started to become consistent. Then perhaps two more circles – Jon started to count… I was having contractions about 90 seconds apart, I believe, to the point where I had to stop until they were over…and they were lasting a good minute or so. We decided to head back to our room – it had only been 1.5 hours.
Once in the room, the contractions were getting incredibly strong. I went from standing, to leaning, to being on the bed on my knees backwards…if that makes sense. I asked to be checked…I was at a 5. Wow. How? I was at an 8 by the time I received an epidural with the other two kiddos. How could this be this painful??? I didn’t care. I’m an epidural girl and that’s okay. I asked for an epidural and my nurse mentioned me having to wait until my bag had emptied. No. Let me tell you that with all three of my deliveries I try to be the NICEST patient. I thank EVERYONE…prefusely…and believe it or not, I’m pretty quiet. But I’d be lying if I didn’t say that I wasn’t whispering little profanities at this moment…not at the nurse…just at the situation. Just to be clean. Ha! This was THE worst pain of my life…of all of my labors…this was my story and my pain and I didn’t want to feel it anymore.
It took a bit for my angel, Howie – the nurse who’d administer my epidural, to arrive. Oh and when I say, angel, I’m not kidding. He walked in and I told him he was my angel. Hahaha! He got to work and I COULD NOT WAIT to get that needle in my back. Oh my gosh. OH. MY. GOSH. Boy was that a moment. I was sweaty, holding completely still, in the worst pain of my life. Immediately I was asking how long it would take to set in…I remember asking this question with the other two. I knew full well it’d be another fifteen minutes or so. My amazing Dr. came in and talked to us during this time. Have I mentioned how awesome she is!!!!?? The pain subsided. Thank you, JESUS!!!!!! I was thirsty….ooooooooh so very, VERY thirsty and my lips had become crazy dry. Jon had to have handed me a drink or my chapstick at least 291 times.
My Doc had mentioned me pushing if I felt the urge. I totally felt like I could, but I couldn’t quite remember the sensation of how to do it…weird. We gave it a little time, I tried, I did it wrong and I knew it.
After a bit more conversation and hanging out I finally knew I could and that I needed to push… we gave it a go. I knew EXACTLY what I had to do and HOW I had to do it. Kind of like riding a bike, you know. It all came back to me. My Doc said it was time after a practice push and then she swiftly prepared for the arrival of Baby K. I pushed, pushed again, pushed again. It was happening.
TMI – I felt the head – lots of hair…the cause of all of that indigestion. At this moment I kind of wish I had had a mirror. I knew this was our last baby and I never got to actually see it. I never wanted to see the other two…but this was different…I never asked for the mirror. For some reason I’ll always regret it. Anyway, I pushed again. Jon started to cry. Oh my gosh, I love that man. I wanted to cry but I was all business. Baby was coming. I was in the zone, you guys. I can’t remember how many pushes in all – but right before my final push I felt a kick. One last itty bitty kick. It was low and it was EVERYTHING. I don’t want to ever forget it. I felt like it was a gift. My last little gift of having life inside me. It makes me so emotional thinking about it. I loved that moment. It was pure magic. It was time for the final push. My Doctor told me that with this final push she was going to give the baby to me. Okay. One last push………………..
There was a baby.
It was being held up in front of me and at that very moment I was the only one in the room to know what it was. On March 25th, 2019 and at 6:58 p.m. I delivered our third baby, a little girl.
I was speechless. Literally no words. I saw what makes a girl a girl and I couldn’t even say, “It’s a girl.” Perhaps I was still in business mode? Jon didn’t even know what it was until someone else finally said, “It’s a girl!” We would’ve been happy boy or girl and in this moment that was living proof. Oh my we were grateful. She was perfect…and BIG. A healthy 9 lb 11 oz baby girl now belonged to us. She didn’t cry much. She was perfect….so very perfect. Now, to be honest, I had thought we were having a boy. I though for sure we were having a baby George, Charles(ie) or Walter. It was a girl. We didn’t have a name for a girl. We did however have the looooongest list ever………
We chose Jane.
Our little Jane.
I saw the name once on earrings from Hobby Lobby and I also so it on a reality tv show, Yummy Mummies. LOL! What a way to pick out a name, right?! Haha! I liked it. I liked how strong and feminine, yet how simple and pretty it sounded. It’d flow well with Henry and Eliza. It was old-fashioned. It was easy to spell. Our little Jane. Jon liked it. We liked it. So Jane it was…
This moment where I sat across from my hospital bed in a rocking chair with sweet baby Jane and I just stared at everything that was across from me. At the room. I took it all in. I tried with all my might to be in the moment. What a moment that was. Our final baby. My final moment as a mother in that scenario. It was powerful. It was deep. Celestial.