On location from the hospital...

She's here!

Delaney Grace was born at 8:58 p.m. on Thursday, August 9 (exactly 1 week early).


She was 21.5 inches long and weighed 8 pounds, 5 ounces.


Her brother Garrett has met her, just briefly, and pronounced her "cute". While we are not really sure who she looks like, Laura has cleared up that whole argument by telling us "she looks like DELANEY".


She is gorgeous and we love her so much.


You know I love to share, so I'll give you the briefest version of the birth that I can. I am taking a lot of Percocet right now and do not claim to be totally with it at the moment.


Contractions / loss of my mucous plug wake me up at 8:00 a.m. Thursday. We are at the hospital by 9:00, where I am found to be in active labor and dilated to 5 cm.


I labor naturally for ten hours, until around 6:00 in the evening (getting very disappointed - my second child was delivered in under 6 hours). Get to 9.5 cm, but with a "rim" or "lip" of cervix remaining.


Start pushing while laboring on hands and knees. I lose all control from the pain, as in biting-scratching-hair-pulling-spitting-screaming-kicking-pounding-hitting-swearing-pinching. Not pretty. Beg for epidural RIGHT F-ING NOW. Am informed 9.5 cm is way too late for epidural.


Somewhere in here, they attempt to catheterize me with no pain meds or anesthesia. I'm pretty sure my head was spinning as I growled and cursed at the nurse. Catheter was removed quickly.


I also vaguely remember screaming at anyone who would listen that, "if I can't have some f-ing pain meds, then somebody had better KNOCK ME OUT AND CUT THE BABY OUT I MEAN IT I WANT A DAMN C-SECTION".


During break in contractions / pushing, I calmly inform the roomful of people that "I did the nature-girl thing with my last baby. I changed my mind - I do not want to do it again. Somebody better get that epidural guy up here. NOWWWWWWWW".


Epidural man comes. Epidural placed. Epidural fails.


Epidural man comes again. I am given a spinal block. I am warned that it will only last one hour, meaning I have less than one hour to push baby out, or the pain will be back.


I push as hard as humanly possible, in several different positions. I'm told they can see baby's head coming down. Within twenty minutes, I have feeling back on my right side and start to panic. I demand that the EPIDURAL MAN GET BACK IN THE ROOM RIGHT NOW.


Epidural man returns, and I pledge to sit perfectly still and curl up like a cat and be quiet and patient and perfect. Epidural takes! I tell the amazing anesthesiologist, while looking deep into his eyes, that I love him, that I will love him always.



I take about a half hour break, where I visit with waiting family and see my other two precious babies. After the break, I push for about an hour.



Baby is still not making progress moving down, and I still have a "lip" of cervix that I can't seem to push past. Her heart rate is also dropping every time I push.



Labor has been going on for about 12 hours now - including 2 hours of pushing, and the general consensus seems to be that either it's a very large baby, or the cord is being compressed when I push. The OB is getting concerned, and everyone (including me) decides a C-section is the way to go.

Once Delaney is delivered, we see why she wouldn't come down any further - she couldn't. While it's common for most babies to have their cord wrapped around something, even their neck, hers was wrapped around so many places that she couldn't get out of it, and it was being compressed when I pushed. Seth said it looked like she was caught in a spiderweb. The cord was wrapped around one leg, her body, arms, and neck.



The section was my first ever surgery, and I'm pretty sure it scared the hell out of my husband to watch me go under the knife. However, it went perfectly well and baby and I are both doing great. I must say that the pain of a C-section recovery seems to be worse than the recovery with a vaginal delivery.



So, apparently I do things backwards - I've had two normal, vaginal deliveries, and I end up with a C-section on my THIRD baby. Weird. But I now consider myself an expert in childbirth...I've had a super-long labor with vacuum extraction and an epidural, I've had a super short labor with a non-medicated vaginal delivery, and now I've had a baby delivered surgically.



I feel fairly at peace with the way things happened, but there are a few things that I'm sad I missed out on. I hope to write a post about the emotional side of this delivery, but not until I have my emotions and hormones a little more under control.



Thank you guys for all your support and encouraging words during this pregancy. I'm going to take a few days off, and then hopefully I'll have time for a quick update here and there.



Now. I know you are soooooo done reading. You are saying, bring on the pictures already, woman!

No, I'm not in labor

Just thought I should post so you'd all know there has been no labor action as of yet. Everybody is on high watch, which means every time I call my mom, she responds with, "ARE YOU IN LABOR?" instead "Hello", and every time I make a pained face due to a random contraction, my husband looks like he might throw up. And then, there is the dreaded, "HAVEN'T YOU HAD THAT BABY YET?".

I actually started having some pretty good contractions at around seven last night, and they kept me awake until about one in the morning. Seth said I had them most of the night, as I would moan in my sleep every time one started and ended.

I go to the doctor in the morning for my first "exam", so there had better be some dilating going on in there. I'll keep you all posted.

The nesting fit is over, for the most part, if you don't count that I meticulously Clorox-wiped the washer and dryer on Saturday.

I'm just getting restless now - my anxiousness about labor, delivery, post-partum depression, leaking breasts, and being the mother of three small kids is taking me over, mind and body(Wasn't I just a cheerleader a few minutes ago? Wasn't I just downing a six pack of Rolling Rock on my 21st birthday? Didn't I just get a college degree and a paying job not long ago? WHEN DID I BECOME A MOTHER OF THREE??????).

I can't seem to find much that is worth my effort lately. Scrapbooking? Don't feel like walking down the stairs to get to the scrap stuff. Baking? You would NOT want to order a cake from me right now. Shopping? Only if you'll push me around the store in a wheel chair.

I WANT to play with the kids, take them to the park, hang out at the library. I WANT to visit friends, catch a movie, cuddle with my husband (who I'm sure is dying for a little more than cuddling). I just CAN'T. The guilt is eating me up. My kids will remember this as the summer that I totally ignored them. Shame on me.

I'm just rambling out thoughts now, so feel free to skim to the end and hope for better tomorrow.

A lot of uncomfortable feelings are surfacing lately, which I'm sure means impending labor.

First, the physical - it usually feels like baby is trying to dig her way out. Seven pounds of very active baby attempting to cross her legs and turn over inside me is very uncomfortable. Can't sleep, raging heartburn at bedtime, swollen ankles, back pain, tight maternity tops that weren't tight last week, the bathroom visits every 15 minutes, and more horrifying tales that I am not willing to share on the internet.

In short, three babies? Have finished off what remained of my body. But I still have all my teeth, thank God.

I don't want to be pregnant anymore. I want to be pregnant forever and ever. Go figure.

I am afraid of post partum depression. I've been there, twice, and don't want to do it again.

What if there is something wrong with the baby?

I'm terrified of labor and delivery. I am planning on no drugs, just as I did with Laura. Just because I did it once, does it really mean I can do it again?

My children will hate me for ruining their perfect little lives with a screaming new baby who is attached to me all day long.

What if labor really does kill me?

I will lose my mind trying to stay home with three little kids.

We are going to go broke.

No more "me" time. And I'm verrrry selfish, by the way.

I'm missing BlogHer this year. :(

Only a few weeks (days????) of unlimited frozen coffee drinks and eating whatever the baby dictates (sometimes it's doughnuts, and sometimes it's bananas, okay?). Then, the weight must go. And that depresses me. Back to Fat Friday posts.

No one will babysit three children at once.

No time for sex, ever again. And, my husband will leave me after he sees how this last (WAAAAHHHH *sniffle*) baby has ruined my body.

I'm scared, about everything in general. I need to cry. Make me feel better.

Preparing the nest.

I only deep clean the house twice a year...once in April (Laura's birthday) and once in September (Garrett). And that involves everything from dusting to windexing the windows and doors to wiping down the baseboards (at least the really dusty ones).

My NORMAL cleaning schedule is more like run the dishwasher before we're out of spoons, keep the laundry going when the underwear starts to run out, and sweep when we can't walk through the crumbs any longer. You are disgusted by me now, aren't you?

So, needless to say, the "nesting" phenomenon of late pregnancy is bewildering to me. I, a woman who can barely see the TV screen for the streaks of dust, cannot stop cleaning. And organizing, of course.

When I was teaching, my nesting took place in my classroom. Eight weeks of reading logs paper-clipped in order? Check. Eight weeks of math activities, lined up in order on a shelf? Check. Detailed notes about what to expect from all 23 students at any given moment of the day? Check!

My house was an entirely different matter. The one bit of nesting I remember doing at HOME was when I was pregnant with Garrett. After staying at school until 11:00 preparing information for my substitute, I came home, cleaned the bathroom, and went into labor pretty much after I'd put the Windex away.

This time, it's a whole new world to me. It started about two weeks ago.

"I've got to run to Walmart for milk and stuff...should be under $50 bucks!" I yell to my husband.

I come home with a $140 bill, and purchases including new travel size toiletries for the hospital, a new nightgown, robe, and slippers, a pack of diapers, gifts for Garrett and Laura's "hospital" bag (so they will know I still love them, of course), Tucks pads, baby Tylenol, and a sleeper for the baby. And milk. I did get the milk.

Then there was the Glamour Shots debacle. $400 dollars later. MUST HAVE BELLY PICTURES.

Then, came the packing. I CANNOT GO INTO LABOR WITHOUT MY BAGS PACKED. Actually, four bags - one for labor, one for the hospital stay, a bag for Garrett, and a bag for Laura. All with notes taped on so my husband will know what to throw in at the big moment. It is imperative that he get the BROWN hairbrush, and the comfy pink underwear. My labor depends on it.

OMG, WAIT - is my crazy showing?

Next, there was the organizing. Kids closets? Impeccable. Kitchen cabinets? The soup cans are all facing out. Baby clothes, blankets, shoes, supplies? Ready, ready, READY!

Then the crafts. I have scrapbooked a blank page on which to put baby's first photos from the hospital. I have refinished a picture frame to match the other children's "bathtub" photos that hang in our bathroom. I have made a little book to document Delaney's first year (I take a picture of the kids with their teddy bear once a month until they turn one).

And now, I am cleaning. People, it's almost shameful to admit this, but I was up until midnight last night cleaning every last corner of this house, including VACUUMING THE RETURN AIR VENTS WITH THE HOSE ATTACHMENT. And then I cleaned the vacuum. Okay, I'm kidding about that last part, but now that it's been mentioned...

I'm also doing out of character things like HAVING A HOT DINNER ON THE TABLE EVERY NIGHT FOR FIVE NIGHTS IN A ROW, and I MADE HOMEMADE WAFFLES FOR BREAKFAST THIS MORNING. Wild.

In the last week, Seth and I have also managed to teach Garrett to take showers, and wash all by himself. We have Laura washing her hair and body, we just have to help her rinse. Both children are now in booster seats and they have learned to buckle their own seatbelts. And although this is very embarrassing, Garrett fixed his own lunch yesterday because I was really consumed with scrubbing the back of the kitchen faucet with Ajax and a toothbrush.

So, the closets are ready.

The nursery is ready.

The kids are as independent as they can be at this point.

The house is ready.

I, however am NOT ready to care for a new baby.

But, I AM ready to meet my newest baby daughter.

Daddy is ready to hold her tiny little fingers.

And Garrett and Laura are ready, too.

Good things come to those who WAIT

I'm HERE...it's my first post of the WEEK. See, "the week" to me means Monday through Friday, girls. However, I'm elated to know that you are all so excited to welcome me back! Wheeee!

I would have posted earlier in the day, but I had my 35 week OB check-up this morning, and then we had to run to the grocery store (I had to avoid my beloved Walmart, as a dead body was found in a car in the parking lot of the Walmart this morning. Yay.)

The OB visit was just a quick routine check up, and I was delighted to find I had gained just one pound over the last two weeks. Well, I was delighted for about 43 seconds, right up until the nurse put the blood pressure cuff on me and said, "We may have to use the larger cuff - but we'll see if the regular one works first." I wanted to swing my jiggly, pregnant arm fat at her and knock her out. And by the way, the regular cuff worked JUST FINE.

Today, you get belly pictures! I shall preface these pictures with my tale of Professional Portrait Hell. And then? You shall admire and savor each and every photo, and then send me numerous comments about how incredibly wonderful they are.

So I make an appointment at Glamor Shots (spelled wrong intentionally, so they can't bust me for illegally reproducing their stupid, over priced-pictures). I know it will be pricey, but I figure this is my last pregnancy and I should capture it in all it's glory on the most expensive photo paper ever invented. I also need the makeover, because at this stage of my pregnancy, I need professional help and very heavy makeup.

I was looking to spend no more than about $125 dollars. Please know that while I get professional photos of my children fairly often, I also hoard coupons for Penney's and walk out of there for about twenty bucks. $125 is my weekly Walmart budget (shut up, husband).

So we arrive at the mall. I HATE THE MALL. If you've been reading me for awhile, you'll remember the unfortunate incident where I fell in SOMEONE ELSE'S VOMIT at the mall.

Anyway, we all get our little makeover, and take family portraits first. Easy.

Then just me and Seth together. No problem!

Seth takes the kids for pizza at the Food Court while I stay behind for pictures of me alone. It was wonderful.

We finish the photos and I sit down to look at the prints on the computer and place my order. We're just starting to look through pictures when Seth returns with Garrett and Laura. It is 8:30 at night. This is where the shit started to hit the fan.

The kids are reasonably well behaved while we look at the pictures. Then my husband learns of the PRICE of the photos, and gets very red and sweaty. Basic sheets of portraits are $45 each. If you want any editing (say, to remove blemishes, sweat, whatever), it starts at FORTY DOLLARS PER FACE.

So, if we had wanted to beautiful portrait they showed us of our entire family, "glamour touched", it would have cost $205. FOR ONE SHEET. He then proceeds to tell the GS associate that, "This is PHOTOSHOP. I could do that myself at home. I cannot BELIEVE you are charging that." The associate cowers. I want to cry. I also want to give husband a swift kick under the table. I am also HORRIFIED at the cost. No "glamour touching" for us.

About this time, as my husband is sweating over the cost, my children are starting to feel at home...kicking, fighting, yelling, running. The photographer and makeup artist step in, thankfully, to help. One fixes Laura's hair in an updo and applies makeup, and the other plays with a beach ball with Garrett.

I tell Seth, "We just need to hurry up and decide. It's not their job to take care of OUR cranky children." Seth replies, loudly, that, "For the amount we're spending here, they can take care of them all damn night."

I feel bad about the excessive cost of the pictures I just HAD to have, I'm embarrassed about my children's behavior, I am hungry and swollen, and I am not looking forward to the money rant I'm going to hear all the way home.

We get the hell out of there, with three sheets of pictures, for $180. Plus the cost of dinner. Plus frozen custard on the way home for the weeping pregnant woman.

The children act like monsters all the way out. Laura wants to push the stroller, and nearly plows through a crowd of people. I don't want her to push it - Seth told her she could. We argue. As she is crashing through kiosks, my husband and I are arguing, and Garrett is jumping all around the candy machines (strategically placed every 200 feet throughout the mall) screaming, "I WANT SOME DESSERT! DESSERT, DESSERT, DESSERTTTTTTT!"

Then, I settle the stroller battle by taking one handle while Seth takes the other, with Laura still trying to push. This makes her irate. We look straight ahead, ignore the screaming and the judgemental stares, I'm hot and sweaty and trying not to sob, when a gentleman taps me on the shoulder and holds out Laura's shoe. It is then that we realize she has been on her knees, hanging onto the stroller with all her might, as we DRAGGED HER THROUGH THE MALL. And her shoe fell off in the process.

Seth makes for the fastest outdoor exit with Laura under his arm like a football (that is, if footballs could bellow and kick like all hell), and I continue waddling through the mall, with Garrett alternately begging for "Dessert" and to "go with DADDDDDDYYYY".

I make it to my car before I sob. And I sob all. the. way. home. And then some.

And to make this really long story short, GS called me a few days later with a "special offer", so I ordered some more pictures, and then some more. Our final total, including the original $180? Almost $400. I will post the most recent "special offer" portrait when it comes in. I may even scan and mail you all a copy, just to get my #$%$^^&%@ money's worth. Hell.

Yes, I am in a lot of trouble with the budget maker in our home. And no, the baby does not have a crib mattress, but DAMN, she has some nice first photos. Hee.

Note on the last photo: My belly and face do not REALLY look that good. I've been mercifully "glamour touched".

Name that baby!

We know that we're having a girl, but here is a list of boy names we were considering:

Benjamin
Landon
Asher
Hayden
Evan
Jackson

Here are girl names we like:

Grace
Madeline
Delaney
Olivia

I think the final decision is...

**Delaney Grace**

Like it? Hate it? What do you think?

The news you've been waiting for...

Well, we had our ultrasound this morning!

Baby 3 is absolutely perfect, weighs 1/2 pound, and is measuring just two days bigger than my due date says. Heart rate is in the 150's, and Baby is wiggling around in there like a crazy person.

Ultrasounds are exciting EVERY.SINGLE.TIME. That is magic that could just never get old.

Look, how beautiful...

Baby is upside down, its behind to the upper left, head to the right, and that's the spine down the middle.

Front view of Baby's face...you can see the eyes, nose, and mouth.

And...

********IT'S A GIRL!********

We are so delighted! I've been hoping for another baby girl, for lots of silly reasons:

My daughter's room is the larger of the kids' rooms (with the bigger closet), and it is temporarily the nursery. It's already painted lavendar with flowers, so it'll be the perfect nursery for a little girl.

Many of my friends have girls, and they have been very generous with their adorable (Gymboree!!!) hand-me-down clothes and shoes.

Two wedding gowns, two prom dresses, and matching sister outfits! Wheeee!

I always wanted a sister, and now Laura, who will be closer in age to the baby than Garrett, will have her own little sister. And both of the girls will have their big brother Garrett to take care of them.

My husband really had no preference, other than he really wasn't sure he actually wanted to know the sex until delivery day (like our other two). When the nurse announced that it's for sure a girl, he said, "Well, I guess we'll have to try for number four!".

Now, don't get me wrong...he is absolutely thrilled to be the father of an amazing son AND two lovely little daughters. I've never pegged him as a guy who had to have SONS to "carry on his name", so I said, "SETH! Where did THAT come from???"

He said, "I really don't know, it just came out!" So we MAY be leaving our options open for a while. However, when I reminded him that a fourth baby COULD ALSO BE A GIRL, I think it startled him back to reality. The thought of possibly having to pay for THREE WEDDINGS will do that to a dad.