Marlow's Birth Day

I never thought I'd get to write this story. I never hoped, that after three somewhat crazy births, I'd experience a birth for the story books. And never in my wildest dreams did I dare expect to deliver a pink baby girl into my arms. I never thought I'd get to write a story like this. It is the very best story.

Each of my pregnancies has gone longer than the last. Cannon was five days early. Cason was born on his due date, and Colt arrived two days past 40 weeks. While I didn't want this pregnancy to go late, the trend had me fully expecting to see my due date still pregnant. So, when June 18, 2015 came and went I wasn't surprised. I was miserable, yes, but not surprised.

However, when week 41 rolled around and I was STILL pregnant, I was surprised. I experienced my first non-stress test (NST) which oddly made me feel stressed and my first stripping of the membranes. I was doing my best to take each day as it came, but hormones and emotions run high when you're ten months pregnant. Some days I felt calm and patient, enjoying yet another quiet day with my three boys before we added a newborn to the mix. Then some days I felt agitated, huge, and incredibly uncomfortable. Every night I showered, re-packed my labor and delivery bag and hoped I'd wake up in labor. Every morning I woke up still pregnant. I spent each day mentally gearing up for labor and mustering courage to face another delivery. It was very draining. I felt like I had the capacity to be a mom to my sweet boys or I had the capacity to be so incredibly pregnant, but I didn't have the energy for both. I knew in my head that babies come when they are ready but my heart was ready to meet my little one. And the closer we got to 42 weeks and the deadline of induction (ie: breaking my water) the harder it became to not be a big ball of nerves.

At 41 weeks and 4 days I had a second NST scheduled. Surely, I would go in to labor before that Saturday. SURELY! Well, Saturday morning rolled around and my Mom graciously (or out of pity) took me to get a pedicure and then for a fabulous lunch at Brio. I tried to relax, enjoy the girl time and enjoy those little baby kicks on the inside. As usual, the waitress asked when I was due. And, as expected, she gave me the shocked look of pity when I told her, "Oh, over a week ago." Some people would even worry that I was going to have the baby right then and there, as if labor started instantly in the middle of transition. Some asked why I hadn't been induced yet. I "loved" having these conversations about my pregnancy with complete strangers.

So after a morning of pampering, I headed up to the birth center for my check up. Three births were/had happened that morning already. Three births that had all be due AFTER me, and yet there they were laboring away and meeting their babies. And there I was, still pregnant. It was hard to not be irrationally discouraged. Everything looked great on the NST. The baby was moving fine and had a great heartbeat. Leslie checked me and said she easily stretched me to four centimeters with a bulging bag of waters. So, my body was gearing up. She also told me, after feeling my belly, that I was not carrying a 10, or even a 9 pound, baby. That was music to my ears. I knew that on my due date this baby was smaller than Colt, but with each day that passed the fear that I was growing another 9 lb 9 oz baby increased.

I went home from that appointment with a bottle of Start Up, which is a natural tincture that can help get labor going. I was mentally preparing to take it the following Monday. I spent the afternoon sweeping and mopping the floor while the boys finished up their naps. I had a few crampy contractions while I mopped by nothing terribly hard, intense, unusual or consistent.

My mother-in-law had been in town for over a week waiting on sweet baby's arrival. She was picking up dinner and after naps we were loading up the boys to go to her apartment for Jimmy Johns. Around 6:30 pm, during the five minute drive to Watters Creek I had a hard contraction and all of a sudden my mood shifted. I was uncomfortable. I had this intense desire to go back home. I didn't want to go in to labor at my mother-in-law's apartment with all the boys there. So, we called her and told her we were turning around. We picked up our sandwiches from her and headed home. I had another contraction in the parking lot and just knew in my gut things were getting started. We called my parents on the way home to come and pick up the boys. It was around 7:00 pm when we got home. I had had three significant contractions.

My parents picked up the boys and I laid on the couch. I tried to watch Netflix and relax through each contraction, but they were already too strong to focus on tv. Contractions were 10-12 minutes apart and Danny was already on the phone calling the midwife, the doula and the photographer to tell them tonight was probably the night.

Around 8:00 pm, while Danny was on the phone with Leslie, the midwife, I told him that I'd probably want to go to the birthing center within the hour. I could tell things were picking up speed. Leslie, very wisely said she'd just get ready and head that way and be there by 9:00 pm. I'm so thankful she just knew to go because by 8:30 pm I was ready to head that way. Contractions were increasing in intensity faster than even I was use to. I would have one or two contractions at one level and then the third contraction would be harder. I felt like I was on a runaway train. We kept passing these stations and I wanted to slow down and rest for a minute, but the train kept plowing on at break neck speed.

By 8:45 pm we were in the car and to the birthing center by 8:55 pm. It was dusk and the sun was going down. Leslie was not there yet, so I labored on the porch of the birthing center. On my hands and knees, I remember the fresh air and the births chirping. I remember the rough wood of the porch under my hands. I remember when the neighbor across the street came out of her house to get into her car. "How many crazy laboring women has she seen on this porch?" I wondered. I moaned through two or three contractions before Leslie arrived and escorted us upstairs.

Danny and Leslie scurried about getting things ready. I had another two or three contractions before our doula, Stephanie, arrived. I remember her squeezing my hips through one contraction. I was very quickly disappearing down the labor hole, going to the place where the world fades away and it's just me and my baby. I also remember going to the bathroom at some point. I had a contraction on the toilet and had an instant need to hold Danny's hand. Usually Danny's job during labor is to squeeze my hips, and while that felt good this time, I had a more pressing need for him to be in my face, so I could look him in the eyes and hold his hand during each contractions.

After just a few contractions on the floor, I was ready to get in the water. In God's gracious provision the tub was already filled and warm. It had been filled earlier in the day for one of the laboring mamas and she hadn't used it. I felt in that moment that God showed me that he cared about the little things for this baby's delivery.

I had a few contractions in the tub and Monica, our photographer, walked in. I remember have two or three strong contractions leaning on the outside of the tub before I wanted to turn over. Remember the runaway train? I didn't stay in one position for more than two contractions I don't think. Things were progressing so quickly.

I had several prayers and hopes for this labor and delivery. One of my prayers leading up to this birth was that it would be quick and gentle. I know that those things don't usually go hand-in-hand for birth, but I had so much anxiety anticipating childbirth, that asking God for a swift and easy labor was comforting. I also wanted to be more "present" during this birth. In my previous births I felt like once I hit transition and pushing I was very frantic, out of control and just "out of it." I had my eyes closed for the birth of all three boys. With Cason and Colt, the midwives told me to reach down and catch my baby as they were being born and I was so paralyzed with pain and fear that I couldn't move. I didn't want that for this birth. I wanted to open my eyes. I wanted to see my baby being born. I wanted to catch my baby in the water. I wanted to see it all so I could remember it. I didn't want fear and pain to be my last memory of being pregnant.

It was during this time laboring in the tub that I opened my eyes. I saw the dim lights. I saw Leslie listening to the baby with the doppler. I saw Danny's arm supporting mine. I saw my knees bent, sticking up out of the water. I noticed shadows on the walls. I reminded myself when I felt like I was splitting in two, that I wasn't dying. Nothing was breaking. God was giving us a baby! And as crazy as it sounds, I talked to our baby. I told Marlow I'd deliver her as gently as possible. I asked her to be gentle with me. "Come gently baby. Come gently," was a phase I repeated to myself. Later on Danny said he noticed that  there was a point right before I started pushing that I calmed myself down. My moans didn't turn to screams like usual.

After I turned over in the tub, I had one or two contractions sitting, leaning against the side and my water broke with a pop. I knew instantly. I also asked Leslie if I pooped in the tub because my water breaking felt so explosive. She kindly replied that my body was doing what it was suppose to do to deliver my baby. Danny later told me I did indeed poop in that tub! Ha! my worst fear when I was pregnant with Cannon happened, but in all honesty it wasn't a big deal and I didn't even care. The very next contraction after my water broke was a pushing contraction.

Another hope for this birth was that I would let my body tell me when to push. I usually start pushing simply because I'm so tired of the pain that I want to get the baby out. I've never started pushing because I just can't stop, which is what I've heard other mom's describe as the "pushing contractions." Well, this time I waited. I let the contraction start after my water broke and suddenly it was there. The pushing contraction. It was like every muscle in my body was bearing down and pressing the baby out. I pushed. She crowned. And her head was born, just like that.

The contraction ended and I was going to take a breath and a rest and deliver her body when the next contraction started. However, Leslie told me to push and birth my baby. "Now?" I asked. "Yes." She replied. And so I pushed. At first I felt like I wasn't going to make any progress or get her out, when suddenly that wonderful slippery relief of delivering the shoulders happened and Marlow was born. My eyes were open. I saw her underwater and I grabbed her. Danny reached down and helped lift her to my chest.

Fifty minutes after we arrived at the birthing center, our baby had arrived. Three hours of labor. It was swift. And while it felt fast, it also felt calm. I know that sounds odd, but I felt like God answered my prayer with a quick and gentle birth.

And then someone asked if it was a boy or a girl. We checked and my heart exploded and my world went upside down. It was a girl. A beautiful, sweet, pink baby girl. Marlow Gracen had arrived earthside at 9:50 pm on Saturday, June 27, 2015. She weighed in at 8 pounds and 10 ounces and was 20 1/2 inches long. She was perfect.

Leslie took fabulous care of me to insure I didn't hemorrhage again. I got a shot of pitocin in my thigh to help my uterus contract back down and my bleeding was monitored closely. My parents brought the boys up to the birthing center and they met their sister. I'm pretty sure Cannon gave me a look that said, "I knew it was a girl. I told you so." He had waited for her and she was here. And yet again, sitting on that bed with Danny, my arms full of children, my heart exploded in my chest. What a beautiful gift.

The boys left with my parents and Stephanie brought Danny and I burgers from In-n-Out around midnight. We ate as our wonderful birth team trickled home and then settled in for a little nap. Somewhere around 2 am, I couldn't sleep, so we packed up. We loaded our daughter in to the car and in the dark of the night, about the time I'm usually going in to labor, we drove home. Home to write the most beautiful songs we could ever write with out new little family of six.

Colt's Birth Story

Apparently it just takes us a few tries to get in the groove of a smooth childbirth. Third time was the charm. Not that my first two births weren't amazing, wonderful and perfect in their own ways, but this birth, Colt's birth, was exactly what I wanted. It was exactly what I needed. It was a beautiful redemption of the trauma of the first two birth experiences.

This is my beautiful birth.

The story really starts over a week before my due date of October 20, 2013.  I woke up on Friday morning with stronger than normal Braxton Hicks contractions/cramps. I was nauseous and had to go to the bathroom - alot - all before breakfast. My body felt like it was clearing itself out. I told Danny I felt like labor was gearing up. He stayed home from work. My body was getting ready. I wasn't having contractions so much as I was having wave upon wave of nausea. It was odd.

We actually had an appointment at the birthing center that afternoon. It was a rescheduled appointment and they were very busy, so we met with the student midwife. The nurse midwife checked me and I was about 2 cm dilated and the baby was still very high. At the end of our appointment we met Becky, one of the midwives who had come out of retirement to see a few patients every other Friday. We told her Cason's birth story and filled her in on my current symptoms. We told her we thought we'd go into labor that night, for sure by that weekend. She listened and we went home.

We asked my parents to watch the boys overnight so we'd be ready if I went into labor in the middle of the night, as has been my pattern. I spent the evening on high alert, sensitive to every twitch and twinge. At one point I was on my hands and knees doing cat/cow stretches and I just broke down. I cried into the carpet. I did NOT want to do labor and delivery again. I had been anticipating the pain of this birth since the moment we saw a positive pregnancy test and the flood of emotion finally overflowed the dam. The anticipation of labor, combined with the fear of the pain of childbirth, was driving me batty.

We ate our dinner of Pei Wei take out, as has become our tradition when waiting for labor to start, and went to bed fully anticipating waking up to contractions in the dark of the night.

Three A.M. rolled around and I woke up to go the bathroom. That's odd, I thought. I've never started labor that late in the morning. I went back to bed and awoke at 7 am very much not in labor. And so began a crazy dance that would last for more than the next week. Every night I would shower, repack our birthing center bags and go to sleep, certain that tonight would be "the night." Every morning, in the wee hours of the day I would wake up to go to the bathroom and realize that I was not in labor.

At some point during the week, I think around Monday, October 14, prodromal labor started. I would wake up around one A.M. with strong cramps that came every 10 minutes, or so. I'd time them, watch tv on my ipad and wait, certain that those strong contractions that indicate labor would come with the next wave. After an hour or two of cramping the mild contractions would die off and I'd be left wide awake realizing I wasn't in labor. I never had this with Cannon or Cason, so this was new for me.

October 20th rolled around and I was still pregnant. We took my 40 week belly bump photo in the front yard and I muttered under my breath that there had better not be a 41 week belly picture. Physically I was beyond ready to have this baby. I felt stretched beyond belief and was just generally uncomfortable all the time.

I was finally anxious to know if we were having a boy or a girl. I had been so patient my entire pregnancy and for some reason during this last week not knowing the gender was finally driving me bonkers. I had also been very good about alternating calling my belly both boy and girl names, but this last week I gave in to Cannon's insistence that we were having a girl and pretty much only called the baby Marlow. (Colt, if you're reading this, I'm so sorry.)

Despite being so physically worn out and uncomfortable, I was thoroughly enjoying our slow days. Our schedule had been cleared for weeks now and our days were spent going to the park, reading books and taking naps. I felt like I was soaking up my time with Cannon and Cason before the whirlwind of a newborn hit our home.

Monday morning, October 21, I woke up with some bloody show. I thought nothing of it as I just assumed that my body was dilating some more.

That night Danny was tucking the boys into bed and I was working on the computer putting the finishing touches on a Christmas present. It was around 8:30 pm that I started noticing I was cramping (again). "Here we go with the prodromal labor . . . again." I thought. Around 9:30 pm I felt like the cramps might be getting stronger, but wasn't sure and I didn't want to get my hopes up. I decided to wrap up the Christmas project, and shower and go to bed "just in case" this was the real deal. I figured I should try to rest if I was going to wake up in the middle of the night in labor. By 10:00 pm I was laying down in bed but the cramps were now what I considered real contractions and I realized I wasn't going to go to sleep any time soon. I informed Danny that I thought I was in labor and we should probably alert the troops (my parents, doula, birth photographer). I wasn't having to concentrate too hard to relax through the contractions, but I knew it was only a matter of time. He asked if I wanted to go to the birthing center, but I felt like it was too early.

Somewhere between 11:00 and 11:30 pm the intensity of the contractions shifted. I went from calmly watching tv on the ipad to belly breathing through the contractions. I got up a few times to go to the bathroom and felt antsy, edgy and unable to calm down. I told Danny that it was time, I wanted to go the birth center. In a matter of minutes his phone calls were made. Leslie, the midwife, was on call, and said she could be to the birthing center by 12:15 pm. Jenni, our doula, and Monica, our birth photographer, were getting ready and on their way. My parents were on their way to our house to stay with the boys while they slept. Danny loaded the car. I breathed through contractions. I worried that we were heading out the door too early. I was too calm, too relaxed. What if we got to the birthing center and contractions stopped or I hadn't dilated any more than the 2.5 cm I was at a week ago?

We said "goodbye" to my parents at our home and drove through the dark down a long and empty Greenville Avenue. I wasn't clinging to the overhead handle. I wasn't begging Danny to race through red lights. In fact, I can't even remember if I had a contraction in the car or not. If I did it wasn't significant.

We arrived at the birthing center and the lights were on. Jenni and Leslie were chatting and laughing in the entry way. I felt like I was there to hang out with a few friends. In the past I've arrived at the hospital/birthing center in such hard labor that my eyes were glazed over, I couldn't think straight and I remember seeing or hearing very little as I moved from the car to the bed. This time I was coherent. I could see and focus my eyes on the dim lights, the smiles on everyone's faces, the creaking of the wood floors. It was surreal.

Leslie checked my progress and I was five, almost six centimeters dilated. That sounded perfect to me. I felt like I was far enough along to warrant being there and not so progressed that I would deliver my baby in the next 30 minutes.

We moved upstairs into my favorite room, the same room where Cason was born just 21 months earlier. The lights were low and Leslie already had the birthing tub filling with water. Danny brought our bags up from the car, set up our ipod with my birthing play list, lit candles (Clean Sheet scent), and spread out the yoga mat.

For a little while I bumbled around. I sat on the bed; I sat on the birthing ball; I went to the bathroom. I kept saying, "I don't know what to do with myself. Everyone's here. Everyone's ready. And yet, I'm just having a contraction every so often." (I would guess my contractions were about 5-6 minutes apart at this point, but I stopped timing them when we left home and we never timed them again.) I worried, again, that everyone was bored, that they would think I was wasting their time.

Danny was finally finished unloading our bags, so I decided to settle in and lay down on the bed since that I was what I would have done had I been at home. I struggled through one long contraction laying on my side and it was miserably painful. Enough of that! No more bed. I moved to sitting on the birthing ball. After breathing through a contraction or two, Jenni asked if I wanted to try using the rebozo to squeeze my hips. She showed Danny how to hold the fabric and he used it to squeeze my hips through a contraction. It just didn't feel good, so we put that away. I remember thinking, "Having a doula is AWESOME. She comes with her own bag of tools, goodies and suggestions." Somewhere around this point Monica arrived, and I again thought, "Wow, my birth photographer is here and I'm not screaming and crowning away in the bed. This feels so odd and yet I'm so very, very happy!"

As always, time warped in labor. I simply remember this labor in three stages.

• Stage One was light labor while talking with Jenni, Monica and Danny ( 12:30 am - 1:30 am)
• Stage Two was getting into the water and not opening my eyes or talking much. (1:30 am - 2:30 am)
• Stage Three was uncontrollable pain, transition and delivery. (2:30 am to 3:01 am)

During the first stage, I labored for a while sitting on the birthing ball. I remember talking and laughing with everyone. It was a little like hanging out with friends, I just had to pause the conversation to stop and breath every few minutes. 

After a while the ball wasn't feeling good so I moved to my trusty position of being on my hands and knees on the floor. Jenni brought the birthing ball over so I could lean on it during a contraction, instead of my hands, but that didn't feel good either, so back to hands and knees it was. In between contractions I'd rock back and sit on my heels and resume talking. Danny was continually by my side and squeezing my hips with almost every contraction.

At some point my deep breathing turned to low moaning during each contraction. The contractions were getting harder, longer, stronger. I asked for my scripture cards to put right in front of me on the yoga mat. I remember reading Isaiah 26:3 (You will keep in perfect peace those whose minds are steadfast, because they trust in you.) through a few contractions. There is a point in the middle of my labors that I LOVE having scripture to read. Reading a verse gives me something to do and concentrate on during labor. I usually focus on a phrase and repeat it over and over to myself while the waves of contractions wash over me. In this case I just kept thinking "perfect peace" as I took every slow breath.

After laboring on my hands and knees for a while Leslie asked if I wanted to try getting into the water. I was still very calm and contractions still felt fairly manageable at this point. I wanted to save the water for the very end. I didn't want to get in too soon and still have hours of labor ahead of me. So we waited. Not more than two contractions passed before they intensified, and suddenly I was ready. I was starting to feel a little out of control on my hands and knees. It was getting too hard to relax through the pain. One last trip to the bathroom and then into that amazing tub I went. 

This was my dream. For nine months, to battle the anxiety of yet another crazy childbirth, I prayed for and dreamed about a calm water birth. And here I was. All of a sudden, those intense contractions became manageable again. I could control my breathing and focus. Water dulled the pain just enough to give me a second wind.

I alternated between kneeling/squatting at the edge of the birthing tub and reclining back against the side. At some point after getting into the tub I started realizing that my back was killing me. My lower, middle back felt like it was cramping/seizing/spasming with each contraction, but when the contraction ended the muscle spasm continued. The back labor was one of the reasons I changed positions with each contraction. As the back labor increased, and the contractions grew harder, I just could not get comfortable in the tub.

After being in the warm water for a while (probably 30 minutes), I was getting hot, but I didn't want to get out of the tub. Debbie, the birth assistant, kept cool wash clothes coming for Danny to hold on my head, neck and chest. Jenni, used a hand fan to keep a cool breeze flowing. Someone (Jenni I think) put lavender oil in the water and on my wrists. I distinctly remember each of these things and remember feeling so grateful to be surrounded by a fabulous birth team. These women did everything to make my birth experience amazing and to make sure Danny didn't have to leave my side for one second.

At one point, I remember being thoroughly annoyed by the song playing on the ipod. It was too slow, too old, too SOMETHING, and I asked if we could start the playlist over. Jenni, ran to reset the ipod, and noted that the time was around 2:30 am. I remember thinking at this point that the contractions were getting out of control. I was moaning and groaning through each one, not even trying to control my breathing any more. Danny and Jenni talked me through each one, reminding me to do horse lips and to keep my moaning low.

I was still alternating positions probably with every contraction. On my hands and knees, Danny would squeeze my hips and Jenni would hold my hands. Reclining in the pool, I'd rest against Danny's legs and Jenni would hold my hand and fan me. I felt surrounded by support the entire time. Never alone. Never desperate for help. Never frantic.

It was also around this time that I started to feel a little "pushy." Now, I'm not sure if I actually was having pushing contractions, or if I was just so tired of the pain that I started to push to try to get the baby out and end it all. Leslie checked my progress at this point because there was some bloody mucus showing up in the water. I was about an 8-9 cm, so she said if I felt like pushing to just do so gently. With each contraction I would just bare down a little bit. I wouldn't say it made things feel better, but it gave me something new to do and it helped me feel like I was making progress towards meeting my baby.

Watermark's song came on the radio and I rocked on my knees to "Waiting Here for You" thinking how glorious it was to waiting for this baby, how beautiful it would be to meet them and "hallelujah" to God for creating life.  "Ho Hey" by the Lumineers also came on and I remember feeling so excited. "This is your song baby! We've thought of you ever single time we've heard this since the day we announced you were coming!" And I knew we were close. I knew it was almost time.

I was ready for labor to be over. The pain was finally unbearable. I was no longer quiet during contractions. I was LOUD! I turned over one last time so that I was sitting with my back against the side of the birthing tub. I was ready to push. I pushed through one contraction and for the first time I felt my body push with me. It was this great surge to get this baby out. I remember Leslie shining a flashlight through the water, trying to see if the baby was coming yet.

As odd as it may sound, I always ask if the baby is crowning. There is so much going on "down there" and the pain is so overwhelming that I can't sort through the sensations to feel where the baby is or how far down the baby is in the birth canal . . . until the ring of fire.

I gave one long push and felt the ring of fire.

I had one distinct memory from Cason's birth while I pushed. Cason's head crowned but never receded and those were the most painful moments ever waiting for the next contraction. I was determined not to let that happen again, so when this baby crowned I pushed again. I wanted to birth the head and then give myself a little break in between contractions before birthing the body. Well, the baby's head was born and there was NO RELIEF. The little one had their hand up by their face. And so I did the only thing logical for a crazed woman in labor. I screamed, "Get it out! Get it out!"

Several things happened all at once at this point. Leslie told me to push, Danny and Jenni grabbed my knees to help pull them up to my chest, and I'm pretty sure the contraction ended. But I pushed anyways. I was not going to sit there with a baby halfway born. I pushed from the very depth of my being. And Colt was born. In one long contraction and about three pushes, my baby was out.

Leslie told me to reach down and grab my baby. "I can't. I can't. I can't." I replied. For some reason I felt frozen in that moment. My eyes were closed and my body was gripping the tub. "I've got it." Danny said and he had that baby on my chest in a second.

I remember thinking, "Wow, this baby is solid . . . heavy." And I felt relief. My baby was in my arms.

Then someone asked, "Is it a boy or a girl?" And I realized I hadn't even thought about that. I was just kissing that sweet little head. And so we checked and laughed in joy at realizing we had three wild and crazy boys. Calvin or Colt . . . he would be Calvin or Colt.

Leslie showed us that the cord had stopped pulsing, so she clamped it and Danny cut it. I handed the baby off to Danny and was helped out of the tub to the bed. In bed Leslie examined me, I birthed the placenta and then snuggled Colt. In that big, king-size, four-poster bed where we first met two of our boys, we cuddled and smiled and enjoyed the post-birth high.

Colt latched like a champ and we nursed for a little while before Leslie began his little exam. She listened to his heart, checked out his perfect arms/legs/hands/feet, measured him and then put him on the scale. "How big do you think he is?" she asked us laughing. I knew he was bigger than the boys, so I guessed 8 1/2 pounds. Danny threw out 9 pounds and I called him crazy. "MORE!" Leslie replied grinning? What? Could he really be 9 1/2 pounds? "9 pounds 9 ounces." Leslie informed us and I sat there in disbelief. How on earth had I grown a 9 1/2 pound baby? How had he fit coming out? He was almost two pounds heavier than his brothers.

Danny and I just stared at our new baby boy. After mulling over our two names for him, we finally settled on Colt Shepherd. It just fit. A small name for a big boy. A strong name for a strong baby.

Soon family started to arrive. My parents brought the boys, who were the first in the room to meet their little brother. Both Cannon and Cason were very shy to come in. I'm not sure if seeing me sitting in a strange bed unnerved them or all the women floating around taking care of things was just different. It could also be that it was 4:30 am and they were still half asleep. Danny piled them on the bed and they met Colt. Cannon showed him Blue Bunny and Cason just kept saying "Baby?!" and pointing to both my belly and Colt. It was very surreal sitting there letting the realization sink in that we had three boys.

My parents, Lynn, Chris and Mykie all woke up in the wee hours of the morning to meet Colt, just hours new. Monica took photographs and the baby was passed around. It was during this time that I started to realize I didn't feel very good. I told Danny that I wanted Colt back and that I wasn't feeling right. Could everyone leave?

Not long after everyone left, Debbie, the birth assistant had me get up to go to the bathroom. I passed numerous blood clots and heard Debbie call anxiously for Leslie, "She's bleeding!" Thus would start a crazy cycle of several hours of hemorrhaging.

I'll spare you all the details, but for my memory, let's just say it was a traumatic cycle of Leslie massaging (that's putting it very gently) my stomach followed by her manually scooping out blood clots.  Basically, a post-partum mama hemorrhages when her uterus doesn't contract and return to it's normal, non-pregnant size. Well, if it's filled with blood clots it can't get back to it's normal size. And if it's not contracting down, then it keeps bleeding and forming clots. It's a vicious circle.

Finally, after an our or two of massages, exams, ivs and feeling oh so weak, I couldn't be brave any longer. The pain was too much, I hadn't held my baby in two hours and the tears poured down my cheeks. I couldn't calm down, Leslie couldn't stop the bleeding and there was momentary talk of having to transfer to the hospital. I was finally given nitrous oxide to help me calm down. I hated it. I don't think I breathed enough of it to do any good. The instant I started to get loopy I took the mask off. I was scared of how it would make me feel.

At some point Carol arrived to see her morning appointments and came up to see us. It was so reassuring to see her. She felt familiar since she had helped delivered Cason in that same room. She held my hand and reminded me to breathe while Leslie worked one last time to get my uterus to contract while at the same time making sure all of the blood clots were removed. I'm fairly certain I planted my foot squarely on Leslie's thigh and kicked her in the midst of the worst pain. (I'm not sure there are enough apologies and Starbucks gift cards to make up for being kicked on the job!) I felt like this post-partum experience was almost worst than any of my labor and deliveries.

After an hour, when I hadn't passed any more clots and the bleeding had slowed, I was allowed to rest. I had finally gotten to nurse and hold Colt again and I dozed as the sunlight streamed through the window. Danny and Kristen, the nurse, chatted quietly.

We never anticipated the post-partum craziness. It's surmised that my week of prodromal labor combined with delivering such a large baby resulted in a uterus that was just too worn out to keep contacting after Colt was born. Apparently, I just don't do calm, peaceful births. Those Stiller boys . . . always a flair for the dramatic. That's okay. They are my birth stories. They are my babies. And they are perfect. 

A Motherload of Resources - Childbirth

I've had several friends email asking for resources on pregnancy, childbirth, what to do with a newborn, breastfeeding, sleeping, and being a mom in general. 

Talk about a novel of an email I could send back. What is there NOT to say on these subjects. The internet abounds with mommy bloggers, parenting websites, and helpful (and not-so-helpful) articles and resources. 

So, I thought I'd pull all of my bookmarked links and helpful hints into one source for you. These are links that I've referenced in my own motherhood journey, read in preparation for a coming baby, and just found helpful overall. 

Again, everyone's different, so these things may or may not float you boat. This is just my opinion, my take on motherhood, and what's worked for us. I hope it's somewhat helpful.

This is part two in the Motherload of Resources series, to read the other parts, check these out:

• A Motherload of Resources - Pregnancy

Childbirth can be a heated topic between mamas. You have choices (in a non-emergency birth) - choices on where you birth (hospital, birth center, home), choices on how you birth (unmedicated, epidural, c-section) and choices on who assists you (doctor, midwife, doula). There's alot to think about but that's why you have nine months! And, no matter how you give birth you have just joined the ranks of mothers everywhere - that is reason enough to celebrate joyously.

What to pack for the hospital/birth center:

• Labor & Delivery Survival Kit
  This is what we packed to aid us DURING the laboring process. All of the little things we "thought" we need and wanted to have on hand, just in case labor lasted 36 hours.
• Packing the Hospital Bag
  This is what I packed for the hospital when my first child was born.
• What I Really Needed to Have a Baby at the Hospital
  This is all I really needed to pack for the hospital.
• Life with Pooka's "What I Really Needed at the Hospital"
  More suggestions on what to pack in your hospital bag.
• Dear Baby's "Looking for Advice from Previous Birth Center Mamas"
  Check out the comments for a list of anything and everything you could ever need when delivering at a birth center.

Childbirth Methods:

There are more birthing methods than these, I just happen to be familiar with these and have researched these on my own. I thought I'd share them to give you a starting point.

• Bradley Method of Childbirth
  This was the method that we chose. I love that it prepared Danny so thoroughly to be a support and a coach to me during labor.
• Sense to Save's HypnoBabies Review
  This is a blogging friend of mine and I'm sure if you have more questions about HypnoBabies she'd be more than happy to answer your questions. She has had one Bradley birth and one HypnoBabies birth.
• Dear Baby's Hypnobirthing Review
  Another look at Hypnobirthing, which is slightly different, but similar to HypnoBabies.
• Lamaze
  This is typically the childbirth class taught in hospitals.

Childbirth Resources:

• Birthing Naturally's Comfort Measures for Labor
  Different positions and techniques to bring comfort during labor. Danny and I had printouts galore that he referenced when I was in labor. He would suggest different positions when I was getting too uncomfortable.
• Inner Health Studio Easy Relaxation Techniques
  I used this website for visualization resources. Crazy sounding, I know, but I left no stone unturned when it came to relaxation techniques to use during labor. 

Postpartum Resources:

• Passionate Homemaking's "Homemade Natural Postpartum Care Kit"
• Baby's Fourth Trimester
• Blinded by the Light's "Newborn Procedures to Reconsider"

Encouragement During Labor/Delivery:

Ignorance was bliss when I was expecting Cannon, my firstborn. I thought I could conquer everything, including childbirth. I believed I was built to birth a child.

Towards the end of my pregnancy with Cason, our second son, I was walking around in fear and anxiety. I knew the pain that was coming my way. I found peace, rest and encouragement in scripture verses that I carried around in my pocket. Many of those verses were gleaned from friends and these blog posts.

• Passionate Homemaking's "Embracing the Pain & Letting Go of Fear in Childbirth"
• Passionate Homemaking's "Scriptural Encouragement for Preparing & Giving Birth"
• A Holy Experience's "It's Part of Receiving the Gift"

Mamas, if I could tell you one thing, it's that you can do it. You will be holding a beautiful baby at the end and however you get there (medicated, unmediated, c-section) I pray that both you and your baby are healthy and safe at the end. Childbirth will change you forever. Your first child's birthday is your birth as a mom day. That day will mark your life forever. It will be the hardest, most wonderful thing you will ever do. 

Cason's Birth Story

**Disclaimer: I just want to preface this birth story by telling you that I LOVE the Allen Birthing Center and the midwives there. As you read my birth story, I might come across as angry or annoyed - and at the time I was a little bit. However, I totally understand that my midwife, Carol, made the best decision she could with the information she was given. My labors progress weird and fast. There's no formula for that. So, please know that I am in no way upset with the way my labor/delivery happened. I made it to the birth center in time and that's all I care about. Carol, Teri and the Allen Birth Center will FOREVER have a special place in my heart and if the Lord chooses to give us another blessing I will have my next child there!**

After Cannon's speedy, eight-hour labor and delivery, I was on edge anticipating an even FASTER labor with this second child.

I'd been having Braxton Hicks contractions since around 25 weeks pregnant and about the middle of December the strong, period-like cramps started. The cramps had me convinced that I would deliver early since I didn't have cramps until the day before Cannon was born. Cannon was five days early, so I was all set for a New Years Baby (Cason was due on January 6, 2012)!

The week before Christmas, Cannon and I both came down with a nasty cold which settled in his ears and in my sinuses. A few days before Christmas I finally went to CareNow and was put on a Z-Pack for a sinus infection, and a few days after Christmas Cannon was diagnosed with the start of an ear infection. I was worried that I would go into labor with the pounding headache and stuffy nose but was assured by my midwife that sick, pregnant women rarely go into labor as their bodies know not to overload themselves. I was also terrified of going into labor on Christmas and not having our birth photographer their to capture the moment. When I woke up on December 26th feeling much better and still pregnant, I breathed a sigh of relief and decided it was time to start the "let's get Cason here" campaign.

I started taking my six-week pregnancy tea again (I had stopped drinking it for fear it was sending me into labor too early) and Cannon and I resumed our daily walks - only this time I was power walking right through all of those contactions. I was done being pregnant and ready to hold my baby - mainly because having to lift and care for Cannon while so huge was WEARING ME OUT!

Well, the days went by. I went to my 38 week check-up at the birthing center and then my 39 week check-up and each time I had only dilated to a 1 1/2. My trusty midwife informed me that when you've been sick and your body has shut down labor, it takes a few days to gear back up and get going again. And so we waited.

New Years came and went and all of a sudden I was terrified of going past my due date. How many more days could I be pregnant? I knew I wouldn't be pregnant forever, but some days just dragged by. My emotions were out of control. I began having anxiety and fear regarding the pain of labor and delivery. It was all I could think about. With Cannon's birth I lived in blissful ignorance, just telling myself that "I could do this!" This time around though, I knew EXACTLY what to expect, and I knew it wouldn't be pretty or painless. I was suddenly regretting my decision to deliver at a birthing center. I sent out a cry for prayer and encouragement on Facebook and to a few friends via email. Scripture flooded my inbox, and I started carrying around a few verses on index cards and meditating on them throughout the day. They were calming and encouraging reminders that the Lord was near. The week before Cason's birth I had days of panic and days of sweet calm playing with Cannon. It was quite the pendulum swing back and forth.

On Thursday, January 5th, I woke up around 6:00 am with a fairly strong contraction. Not breathtaking, but it was definitely stronger than a cramp. I noted the time, closed my eyes and waited. Sure enough, 10 minutes later there was another contraction. I waited through four contractions and finally told Danny that today might be the day and that contractions were coming every 8-10 minutes. We got up and packed all of our last minute things for the birth center.

By 8:00 am, Cannon was stirring and my contractions were still every 10 minutes apart. "This may not be the super fast labor I was expecting" I thought. My Mom came and picked Cannon up around 8:30 am to watch him for the day. We all thought that Cason was surely coming at any hour.

Danny and I spent the morning eating breakfast, watching the news, walking around the block and resting on the couch, but instead of picking up my contractions started slowing down. Soon they were every 12-15 minutes apart. By early afternoon they were faintly coming every 20 minutes, if that, and I was discouraged. What was happening? Should I walk to try to speed them up, or should I rest so that if I go into labor late at night I'm not exhausted. I didn't know what to do. Danny called the Allen Birthing Center and they graciously fit us in for an impromptu appointment to check things out.

After our second walk of the day, during which I barely felt any cramping, we headed to the birthing center. It was round 3:30 pm. Amy checked my progress and listened to my concerns. I was 3 1/2 cm dilated and 80% effaced. My body was definitely working, but she thought it might be slowing down because I was tired. Sometimes ones body shuts down and a good night's sleep kicks things back into gear. She recommended rest, a bath, and even Tylenol PM or Benedryl, if I was comfortable taking something to help me sleep. Well, I was scared to take any medicine that would induce drowsiness as those things KNOCK ME OUT, and I didn't want to labor in a fog, but a bath, well, I was comfortable with that.

My parents agreed to watch Cannon over night, so Danny picked up Pei Wei and a "One Day" at the Redbox and we settled in for a relaxing evening. I ended up going to bed after dinner, a movie and a bath around 10:00 pm in the hopes for a good night's sleep. I was nervously excited, but hoping to rest up. I knew we were close to meeting Cason.

Around 12:30 am I woke up with a start. I was in the middle of a very strong contraction. Much stronger than anything I'd had the previous day. I steadied my breathing and tried to relax. Ten minutes later, another extremely hard contractions. One after the other they came . . . ten minutes apart. WHAT WAS GOING ON? I knew this was game time, but I was worried that they would slow down again since they were so far apart. I finally work Danny at 1:00 or 1:30 am (time warps when you're in labor) and told him this was it. At this point I was laboring on my side in bed or on the floor on my hands and knees. I was having to "work" to relax. I carried my scripture cards each time I changed position.

At 2:00 am I told Danny to call the Allen Birthing Center and notify the midwife on call. I already knew it was Carol, but I thought we should double-check before waking her up in the middle of the night. Danny talked with her for what seemed like an hour. Finally, he came back and reported that she wanted me to try to sleep in between contractions if they were only 8-10 minutes apart.

I nearly cried.

There was no sleeping in between contractions. They were never really ending, they were just peaking and then tapering off into a hard cramp and then peaking again 8 minutes later. Danny suggested we try to labor for an hour before we call her again. I buckled down for some concentrated breathing.

Twenty minutes later I was alternating between laboring in bed (Carol said I should rest, so I was trying my best) and laboring on the toilet. Cason was SO LOW that every contraction felt like I need to go to the bathroom. That was the same sensation I had just before my water broke with Cannon, so I knew we were nearing the end. When I got up to go to the bathroom, my contractions sped up and came every 4-5 minutes. When I went back to bed they slowed down to every 8-10 minutes.

I asked Danny to call Carol again. I really wanted to be at the birthing center. I didn't want my water to break at home because I knew once my water broke the baby was coming . . . FAST. And I didn't want to have to ride in the car AGAIN with pushing contractions.

Danny called. Again, he talked to her for what seemed like eternity. I didn't realize it at the time but he was trying to convince her to head to the birthing center so we could come. He was trying to explain how our previous birth progressed quickly and how I felt like things were nearing the end. She wasn't so easily convinced. And, who can blame her. Normal childbirth textbooks say that when contractions are 10 minutes apart you're probably in the early stages and could have HOURS left. What midwife wants to get up at 3 am just to sit with a labor woman for the next 12 hours? I knew we were much closer to birthing a baby than 12 hours though. Finally she asked to speak to me. Through moans and groans I finished a contraction and got on the phone. I explained to her how low he felt in my pelvis, how I felt the urge to pee with every contraction, how the contractions sped up and slowed down, and how I really wanted to come to the birthing center. She told me that if my contractions were slowing when I laid down that I probably wasn't in active labor.

I cried. On the phone. With the midwife.

She tried to encourage me. She knew I was having a hard time but reminded me that I was doing great.

I hung up the phone and cried some more.

"WHY WON'T ANYONE BELIEVE ME WHEN I SAY I'M IN LABOR?!?!?!"

I was beyond frustrated and getting panicky. First Danny with Cannon's birth and now Carole with Cason's birth.

"This was why I chose to deliver at the birthing center," I moaned to Danny, "so I could labor in a safe place. I didn't want to go through another crazy labor and here I am worried that I'm going to give birth at home."

I continued laboring on the floor at the foot of our bed, moaning, groaning and swaying from side to side while on all fours with each contraction. Danny was diligently squeezing my hips harder and harder as I demanded and faithfully timing each contraction.

Finally, after another 20 minutes, I asked Danny to call Carole for a third time.

"If she won't let us go to the birthing center now, then please just drive me to Allen Presbyterian Hospital. They won't, no, they can't, turn me away, and I'm NOT having this baby at home."

At this point my contractions had sped up to 3-4 minutes apart no matter my position. Danny was off the phone in a matter of minutes. Carol had agreed to meet us at the birthing center. I'm not sure if we wore her down or my contractions were now close enough together. She was going to call us when she was 10 minutes away.

"Let's go right now." I begged Danny. "We can be there waiting when she arrives."

"She's 30 minutes away." Danny replied. "What are you going to do? Labor on the porch? In the dark?"

That sounded better to me than having my water break at home, or even worse, in the car.

At 3:00 am Carol called and said she'd be there soon.

The car was already packed. We were ready to go. I had one contraction in the kitchen, leaning on the counter. I walked to the car and had another one on the driveway, leaning on the rearview mirror. As soon as that contraction was over we were in the car driving. All I wanted was to be in that big jacuzzi tub at the birthing center. I wanted to experience the wonders of being in water during labor that everyone raves about. Less than 10 minutes later we were pulling up to the birthing center and I had only had one contraction in the car. I was out of the car before Danny completely stopped as another contraction was coming on and I couldn't handle another one sitting down.

Childbirth is funny. Some memories are oddly muddled and foggy. Time passes without recognition. I have no recollection of the hours or minutes of the night, how fast or slow things were happening. Other memories are starkly clear. I can distinctly remember locations of contractions. Leaning on the birthing center's mailbox as I stumble out of the still moving car. Breathing into the bannister as soon as we walked into the dimly lit birthing center wondering WHERE THE HECK was Carol?!

Immediately she came out of the back kitchen and told me to come into the office to get checked. "CHECKED?" I thought. "She wants to CHECK ME?" That was the last thing I wanted to do. That involved climbing onto an exam bed, holding still, being touched! At this point in labor I rarely like being touched. The slighted sensations aggravate me. Danny's hair bristling on my back while he squeezed my hips together annoyed me to no end. Danny touching me too soft, or too hard. An itchy tag on my shirt. It seemed every nerve ending I had was turned on high.

Well, check me she did only to announce that I was 9 cm dilated with a bulging bag of water. It was all I could do not to scream "I TOLD YOU SO!" right there in that exam room.

Upstairs we went while Carol busied herself getting things ready and calling her birth assistant.  Danny texted Keri, our birth photographer, "9 cm." She replied that she was speeding by still 30 minutes away.

It was 3:15 am.

We settled into the birthing room. And by settled in, I mean I took off my yoga pants and proceeded to labor in the bathroom, on the bed, on the floor, on my side, on all fours. It was transition in full force. NOTHING felt good. Carol and Danny sat on the end of the bed. At one point I remember hearing low talking. I remember feeling alone and wondering how they could just chit chat at time like this. I looked at Carol and asked "What should I be doing?" I wanted to her to give me a magic position, a cure all suggestion, something, anything that would help me cope/relieve the pain. She just replied, "Do whatever feels good to."

"Well, everything I know to do isn't working," is what I thought. She knew what I had forgotten. There was nothing she could do to help me now. It was just a matter of painful minutes that I had to get through myself. Me and Cason. It was just the two of us now, working, breathing, pressing, relaxing to bring him out.

All this pain

I wonder if I’ll ever find my way

I wonder if my life could really change at all

All this earth

Could all that is lost ever be found

Could a garden come up from this ground at all

I knew what needed to happen next. I was waiting, one agonizing contraction at a time, for my water to break. That familiar low pressure was there. The sensation with every contraction that I needed to go to the bathroom wouldn't go away. I contemplated asking Carol to break my water just to get things over with, but I knew it would be better for things to progress naturally. Surely it couldn't be long now.

After what seemed an agonizingly long time, but was probably only 5-6 contractions, my water broke. Fast and gushing and with a pop. Relief. And a smile. I remember smiling and talking and then thinking, I shouldn't be able to talk at this point in labor. The time was 4:01 am.

You make beautiful things

You make beautiful things out of the dust

You make beautiful things

You make beautiful things out of us

The break was short-lived. Pushing contractions quickly started. At some point Danny had turned on the iPod and I remember hearing "1234" by the Plain White Ts playing in the background. I wanted him to turn the music louder, I wanted it to be blaring in my face, something, anything to distract me from the intensity, but I couldn't even whisper a word. I couldn't even ask for water. I remember turning to him and before I could even ask, Carol was telling him to give me a drink. It was like she somehow knew how dry and sandy my mouth had become with the breathing.

After one or two pushing contractions, Teri, the birth assistant arrived. I didn't know it, but I had been waiting for her the entire time. Immediately she was in my ear telling me that I was doing a great job, that I was making progress, that it was almost over. I had been wanting someone to tell me what was going on, how things were progressing, IF things were progressing and if they could see his little head yet.

At 4:08 am Keri, our birth photographer walked into the room and I remember smiling at her and thinking, what a greeting. I'm spread eagle on the bed and groaning as she walked in the door. But she had made it and I couldn't be more pleased.

All around

Hope is springing up from this old ground

Out of chaos life is being found in You

Soon after Keri arrived Cason crowned and I felt the infamous ring of fire, only it didn't go away. I was expecting him to crown and then recede when the the contraction ended and I stopped pushing. But he didn't go back in. His little head just stayed there and so did that burning ring of fire. He was stuck. I knew he was. I asked if I could push again, and Carol suggested I wait until the next contraction. WAIT! That seemed the impossibly task. Finally, the slightest hint of the start of a contraction and I pushed and pushed and pushed. And then Cason gave a give. A strong, hard, straight-legged kick straight into my stomach. He was trying to help, to work his way out. I remember screaming "Just get him OUT!" and his head was born. Carol began saying "easy, easy, easy" and I returned from my faraway laboring place to slow down, to relax, to wait.

Danny said it was at this point that Carol and Teri were noting that the cord was wrapped around the neck. When I stopped pushing Carol grabbed the cord and pulled it gently away from Cason's neck. With my next push she let the cord slip over Cason's shoulder as he was born. And again, relief. Wet, slippery, joyful relief.

Caught by Daddy and on my chest in a second, Cason was born. It was 4:14 am. Four hours after starting hard labor. One hour after arriving at the birth center. Thirteen minutes after my water broke. Six minutes after the photographer arrived. And exactly on time on his due date.

He didn't cry right away and I was worried. He was gray and limp. He looked so little and yet just seconds before had felt impossibly big. Teri wrapped him in a blanket as he lay on my chest and rubbed him down. She suctioned his nose and mouth and then there was a cry. A glorious newborn squeal. The indignant squawk that his perfect little world in my womb had been disrupted. And soon Carol told me to relax, smile, he was perfect.

You make me new, You are making me new

You make me new, You are making me new

You are making me new*

And from that moment time started flying by. I held him low on my chest waiting for the cord, which was somewhat short, to stop pulsing. Teri introduced herself and I laughed, because I have a tendency to meet the people that help deliver my babies AFTER my babies are born. I barely remember delivering the placenta. A flash here, a snap there from Keri's camera. Danny texting, calling family. Carol letting me know that I had a laceration but wouldn't even require a stitch. Cason nursing like a champ. Cannon arriving and not knowing what to do with the bundle in my arms.

Parents and brothers arriving and oohing and aahing over the newest life in our family tree. Showering. Eating bacon, eggs and toast from the Allen Cafe. Cuddling with Danny and Cason on the bed. Packing up. Driving home with my son only six hours old. Hours and hours of skin to skin in my very own bedroom.

Then I blinked.

The pain of labor dims, but the memories sharpen, fixated in my mind. And my beautiful little thing grows too fast in my arms and time flies.

*Song lyrics in italics from "Beautiful Things" by Gungor, our song for our second son.

Cason Reed has ARRIVED!

Cason Reed

Born at 4:14 am 

Jan. 6, 2012 (on his due date)

7 lbs 11 oz

20 1/2 inches

3 hours of active labor at home

1 hour laboring at the birth center

10 minutes of pushing

and the birth photographer made it with 6 minutes to spare

Happy Birth Day Cason!

Remember that time we hired a birth photographer, Keri Duckett, and she didn't have time to make it to Cannon's actual birth (of no fault of her own, sheesh, the doctor barely made it)? She still captured these amazing photos that I cry over to this day. 

I love her photos so much that I tell EVERY pregnant friend they HAVE to hire her. I would give up purchasing alot of "newborn/baby stuff" to be able to have her at every birth I have.

**Go check out her website - that's Cannon there on the left!**

Well, the minute we went into labor with Cason, Danny was on the phone with Keri. We were determined that she wouldn't miss this birth. 

There were a few questionable moments - like when the midwife told us we couldn't come to the birthing center because my contractions were too far apart but I KNEW I was getting close. (And, yes, I know ya'll are waiting - the birth story is coming soon!) Well, Keri still got up in the middle of the night and got ready to leave because she knew Cason would come fast. She's just that awesome. 

You can't imagine Danny's relief when she walked into that room with her camera. I believe Cason was born about six minutes later. Let's just say I'm an efficient use of people's time. 

I'll forewarn you - these are birth photos. There's nothing graphic, but I'm not a pretty or quiet laborer, so be prepared. You might just hear me roar.

Songs: "First Day of My Life" by Bright Days and "Beautiful Things" by Gungor

And, in case you'd rather not be bothered with the seven minute slideshow, here are a few of our favorite moments:

First of many family snuggles.

LOVE!

Big brother waiting to meet his little brother!

Hello Mama!

Hello Dada!

Hello big brother!

First of many high fives between brothers. 

I still can't get over how big Cannon's hand looks next to Cason's!

First moments as a family of four.

Our fabulous midwife, Carole, and birth assistant, Teri. 

I just want to say, Teri walked in right before Cason was born so we met "officially" after the birth. Our first conversation went something like, "You did great! Oh by the way, I'm Teri!"

Sound familiar? I didn't meet the doctor that delivered Cannon until after the birth. Apparently I have a problem - I show up to places just in time for someone to catch my babies. :-)

Baby #2 Bucket List UPDATE

I thought I'd give you a little update on how we're doing on getting ready for our second son. Remember the original Baby Bucket List? Well, most things have been crossed off and a few extra things added! I'm ready for Cason to get her!

Get Kids' Room Ready:

• set up twin bed
• buy sheets/comforter/pillows for twin bed
• hang Cannon's name & picture
• get Baby #2's name for wall
• paint & hang Cason's name for above his crib (almost done! the modge podge is drying on the kitchen counter)
• hang hooks for baby carriers (hooks have been purchased, just need Danny to bust out his drill)

Create Activity Nook in Living Room: (all of this is pretty much waiting for a line item in next month's budget)

• buy 4x4 Expedit Birch Bookcase & storage bins
• find a motor mat
• organize toys

October To-Do List:

• buy Christmas gifts
• prepare for Advent
• start rehearsing for birth

November To-Do List:

• get office somewhat organized with both desks
• get Christmas pictures taken for the last time as a family of three

December To-Do List:

• freeze meals
• put together birth center bags
• put together labor & delivery survival bag
• wash newborn clothes
• install infant car seat
• make eye doctor and dentist appointments for new/Allen doctors in February
• install cabinet locks in kitchen (again, just waiting for Danny and his drill)
• set up nursing corner in clean office

Questions for the Birthing Center

There are several things I didn't like about my birthing experience at the hospital:

• waiting so long to go to the hospital (and almost had Cannon in the car) because we were afraid of having pitocin and an epidural pushed on us. 
• having an episiotomy. 

There is one thing I LOVED about my hospital stay: the postpartum care.

For this baby we decided that we would at least "check out" the Allen Birthing Center as an option for our labor and delivery because if we were only choosing a hospital for the meals - well, that's pretty expensive room service.

A few weeks after finding out we were pregnant we toured the Allen Birthing Center. It was cozy, comfortable and warm with big jacuzzi tubs in the rooms. 

Since I shared the questions we asked our doctor and hospital last time, I thought I'd share the questions we asked when we toured the birth center.

• Is the birth center licensed by the state.
• Is it accredited by the American Association of Birth Centers Commission for the Accreditation of Birth Centers?
• Are all members of the staff trained in infant resuscitation?
• Does the center take Cigna?
• Where is the back up hospital?
• Who is the consulting physician for the birth center? When will we get to meet him/her?
• Do midwives have hospital privileges?
• How many women are transferred to a hospital while in labor? After the birth of the baby? Will the midwives get to stay with the mother in l&d?
• What are the most frequent reasons for a hospital transfer?
• How will the center help me manage pain?
• What is the rate of episiotomies?
• How often do moms have their water broken and under what circumstances?
• What methods do midwives use to get labor to progress?
• Generally, at what point in labor does the staff recommend I come to the birth center?
• Are there restrictions that could prevent me from using the birthing center? Are there limits on the size my baby can be? Can a woman go past 41-weeks?

We liked the environment of the birthing center, we liked their philosophy of birth, and we liked their staff, so we have decided, should everything go smoothly this pregnancy, that this will be a birthing center baby. Some days I get a little scared at not having the "option" of an epidural there in case I want it, but we're very excited to have a place to labor (the minute I have a contraction this time) that we know will be on the same page with our desire to have an unmedicated childbirth.

The Two Hardest Things

Do you know what I was doing one year ago today? At this very moment?

This . . .

. . . with Cannon in tow. 

Although I didn't know him as Cannon then. I only knew him as a little heartbeat, a blip on a fuzzy sonogram picture.

Later that night we would announce to our families that we were pregnant. 

I was burping Cannon on my lap last week, and all of a sudden I became aware that I could feel his heartbeat pounding away in his little chest. It hit me. That same heartbeat existed a year ago. I didn't know Cannon then, I couldn't even imagine him back then, but I knew his heartbeat. How amazing. 

In the last year, I did the most physically challenging things of my entire 28-years of life. I ran a marathon, and I gave birth.

I still get emotional remembering both events, and I am overwhelmed at how creative our Lord is to make our bodies do such astounding feats.