Ultrasound #1

I had my first ultrasound yesterday at 7 weeks 1 day.  I was really nervous before hand, especially considering the fact that the last time I went for an ultrasound, my baby was dead.  It went well, though.  I saw the heartbeat right away, and it clocked in at 146bpm.  The baby also measured exactly to the day s/he was supposed to, according to when I ovulated.  That was a relief, since in my last pregnancy when I went for an ultrasound at 8 weeks 3 days the baby only measured 7 weeks 4 days, and then died within a week afterward.

The baby looked weird to me.  Not that kind of peanut/kidney bean shape, but just a strange triangle shape the whole time. It was weird.  But of course I'll be concerned about anything.

I still don't feel confident, so the doctor booked me in for another ultrasound next week.  She said I might as well come in every week if that is what's going to help me manage my anxiety about this.  I was hemming and hawing because I didn't want to seem crazy, I wanted to be a reasonable person who can go weeks between ultrasounds.  But she clearly saw that probably wouldn't be a great decision for me, so she booked me in and told me I could always cancel it if I want to.


As for symptoms... my breasts are bigger, and they hurt more now than they did a week and a half ago.  I can't feel my uterus much these days because it's not contracting a lot like it did at the beginning (the same thing happened in my other pregnancies at this point), but my belly is stupidly huge for 7 weeks (as usual).  I am so tired.  And I'm not as sick as a dog like I was in my first two pregnancies, but I have definite food aversions (to things I usually love) and gross icky feelings, and sometimes have full on nausea.  It's completely tolerable at this point, though.

My resting heart rate has gone all the way down to 64, from when it was 74 shortly after I got pregnant.  That is so weird to me because it is the opposite of what is supposed to happen - your heartrate is supposed to go up at this point in pregnancy and stay up.  And last time it was a bad sign.  But last time my heartrate went down once the baby died, and this time it's been going down for the past 3 weeks and everything is fine so far, so I guess it's just a weird fluke.

Betas

Here are the betas from my 4th pregnancy:

168 - 14 DPO  (October 18)
226 - 15 DPO  (October 19)
362 - 16 DPO  (October 20)
932 - 18 DPO  (October 22)
2008 - 20 DPO  (October 24)
6441 - 23 DPO  (October 27)

I've had so many done because I'm super nervous.  My heart rate originally went up to 74 when I got pregnant, but has decreased over the past 2 weeks to 65 today.  This worries me because it was one of the signs of my missed miscarriage last time - my heart rate started decreasing at exactly the time my baby died.  My betas were going up properly during the first week that y heart rate was decreasing, so I stopped doing them.  But it's gone down by 3bpm since then and is now way lower than it was before I got pregnant (normal for me is 60-65, but when I was so ill this summer my resting heart rate went up to somewhere in the 80's and never recovered back to normal.  Before pregnancy it was 69-71 normally).

I'm 6 weeks 2 days today and don't really have any nausea.  I feel like I'm getting carsick easier, and I have periods where I feel icky, and I'm having some mild food aversions sometimes, but nothing that really screams "pregnancy symptoms!!" at me. 

My breasts have grown and are somewhat sore, but it's also not unbearable.

I'm super hungry all the time and I'm watching what and how much I eat (I have to eat Paleo because it helps control my autoimmune disease, and grains cause it to flare, so it's not like I can pig out on refined carbohydrates all day like I kind of did in my first two pregnancies to help control hunger and nausea).  But I have a weakness for chocolate and I'm put on a few pounds recently, possibly as a result of too many chocolate covered almonds.  My weight was still low after my flare up, so I can afford a few extra pounds, and I don't mind gaining weight for a good cause.  But I would really rather not gain a bunch of weight and end up with no baby like I did last time.  Carrying extra weight after dealing with a miscarriage is just a pickle on top of a huge crap sandwich.

They say every pregnancy is different but I just can't buy into that for my personal situation.  My two successful pregnancies were very similar, and it was my unsuccessful pregnancy that was different and easier.  I guess I'm just so nervous something is going to go wrong, I just want to be miserably pregnant.  I want all the signs and symptoms to be torturing me so that I feel like everything is okay.  Because my last pregnancy was the time that symptoms weren't torturing me.  The symptoms were mild, and it turned out to be a very bad sign for me.

I know there's still time for the nausea to come.  I was super sick at this point in my pregnancy with Noah, but it wasn't terrible at this point in my pregnancy with Isaiah.  It was pretty bad by 7 weeks, so I still have "time" to get bad.

My ultrasound is in 6 days.  My main goal in life right now is to try to not think about it, to not dwell on the anxiety. There's nothing I can do to change the outcome.

Why I've Been Absent

I haven't blogged in over 6 months.  There are a lot of reasons for that. 

My last post was about finding my baby's heartbeat at 8 weeks 2 days.  The next day I had an ultrasound.  Everything was "fine", the heartbeat was great, but the baby was only measuring 7 weeks 4/5 days.  I WAS 8 weeks 3 days.  I knew the exact day that I ovulated (I always do).  The only day we had sex that whole month was the day before.  The next day my husband got sick, then I got really sick.  There's no way my husband's infertile sperm lasted an entire week until I ovulated, and if I was only 7 weeks 4 days then there's no way I would have gotten a positive pregnancy test when I did.  It would have meant I got a positive HPT at only 4 or 5 days after ovulation.  Impossible.

I was immediately concerned.  I was concerned that my baby was dying, and the growth had slowed down because of that. But I tried to convince myself that there is a margin of error depending on who is doing the measuring, and MAYBE I ovulated a day later than I thought, and MAYBE the baby grew just a wee bit slow, and if you combine those things with the ultrasound tech measuring too small, MAYBE it would add up to me measuring 5-6 days behind.

I didn't have any other choice but to try and justify this to myself.  Doctors never listen to patients.

After the ultrasound I was never able to find the heartbeat with my own Doppler again.  There was one day, maybe the day after, that I found what sounded like a fetal heartbeat (you know how the sound is very different and distinct compared to the other sounds you pick up with a Doppler?).  But it was too slow.  I remember thinking "I really hope that isn't my baby's heartbeat, because if it is, it is way too slow and my baby really is dying..."

At 9 weeks and 1 day all my symptoms basically disappeared.  My constant feeling of icky mild nausea was gone.  My extreme hunger was basically gone. 

My Fitbit showed that my resting heart rate, which had gone up by about 10bpm starting after implantation, slowly started decreasing back to my pre-pregnancy rate.

My uterus stopped growing.  I could feel it, and it never got any bigger after 8 weeks.

I had a midwife appointment at 9 weeks and 3 days. I explained all my fears to her, and told her maybe I was just crazy and overanalyzing everything, but I was pretty sure my baby was dead.  My midwife didn't actually think anything was wrong with me, but she sent a requisition for me to get an ultrasound the next week.

Unfortunately the fucking ultrasound department refused to book it until I was 12 weeks.

So I walked around with extreme anxiety for 3 weeks.  Extreme anxiety.  Everybody kept telling me everything was fine, I was overanalyzing, every pregnancy is different, blah blah blah.  Typing this out I still want to go back and punch them all in their faces.  Everyone was constantly trying to shut me down as I tried to talk about my fears and anxiety.

I spent three weeks knowing my baby was dead, but trying to convince myself I was crazy.  Three extra weeks loving my baby and imagining what our life would be like with him, but at the same time having intense fear that he was already taken away from us.

Friday, May 13 was the day of my 12 week ultrasound.  It is also my sister's birthday, and I remember thinking when he ultrasound was booked that I should try and change it because I was forever going to associate my sister's birthday with finding out my baby was dead.  For some reason, I just left it.  I think I was just frozen with fear and denial. 

That morning my husband was so worried.  He finally was taking me seriously, which made me even more anxious.  I tried to tell him I was probably crazy, and maybe everything was fine.

It was a long wait for the ultrasound.  When the tech came to get me she asked how I was, and I told her how anxious I was because I was pretty sure my baby had died three weeks ago.  She also thought I was wrong.

She started the ultrasound, and thankfully she had the screen in a position so I could see it (a lot of techs tilt it so much away from you that you can't see no matter how awkwardly you position yourself).  When the image popped up I immediately thought "I hope that is just a picture of the top of his head."  As she moved things around more, I knew for sure.  There was no heartbeat.  There were no arms and legs.  There was no movement.

After a couple of minutes I said, "That doesn't look good."  She said the baby was only measuring 7 weeks 3 days, and there was no heartbeat.

I always thought I'd be one of those people who wouldn't believe it, who would want weeks of follow up ultrasounds to make sure the baby really wasn't growing.

But I've had enough ultrasounds.  I can recognize a heartbeat without it being pointed out to me.  I know what a baby is supposed to look like at each stage.  I could see for myself my baby was dead.  My baby had died right after my last ultrasound, just like I had thought, just like I knew for the last 3 weeks.

You'd think the fact that I already knew it had happened would prepare me, but it didn't.  I was absolutely shattered.  And I still carry some anger toward the stupid fucking system that doesn't listen to women and doesn't believe the ones who know their bodies and made me walk around with a dead baby inside of me for 3 weeks, living in a horrible anxious terrified limbo.  Where I knew but I didn't know.  Those 3 weeks made the experience so much worse.

As soon as I saw for sure my baby was dead, I wanted it out of me.  I loved that baby with all my heart, but I couldn't have it inside of me anymore.  This was another thing that surprised me.  I had always feared miscarriage in the past, so I'd thought about these scenarios.  I never thought I'd be in such a hurry to not be pregnant anymore.

There were complications in that I was seeing midwives, and they don't have anything to do with a missed miscarriage.  They don't medically manage any of that.  So I had to be referred to the on call OB.  I had the choice to meet her in the morning at the hospital in Labour and Delivery, or wait until Monday and see her in her office.  I chose L&D on Saturday morning.

My meeting with her was... well, she didn't really give a shit about what I had gone through during the past month, how the system ignored me, etc etc.  I was just another woman who doesn't know her own body.  Anyway, I was given the choice between taking Misoprostal (an induction drug) at home, or waiting until the following Thursday or so and having a D&C.

Being that I hate doing things the medical/surgical/invasive way, I elected to take the Misoprostal.

It was fucking hell.  It was the worst labour I'd ever gone through.  My labour with Noah was an induction that lasted 5 hours, and it was 3 times worse than my labour with Isaiah, which lasted 52 hours.  I had no drugs with either of my babies.  This labour was just as painful as my induction, if not more, but it took 12 HOURS of extreme pain before I finally birthed the baby and placenta at 1am on at 15.  I was in completely and utter panic.  I was overdosing on every possible pain pill I had available to me, and nothing helped until my Dad brought me two leftover oxy's from a surgery he had had.  They calmed things down by like 10%, just enough to make me feel less panicked.

Seriously, the pain was so bad that if I could have gotten to the hospital (which I couldn't because I was in too much pain to get in any vehicle), I would have begged for a hysterectomy to make it stop.

12 hours of complete agony, all for a dead baby.

I spent May and June in a state of intense mourning.  I had retained tissue that didn't show up on ultrasound, and my miscarriage made me bleed for 26 days.  It took along time for the tissue to finally make its way out of my body (it was stuck in my cervix for a long time).  As soon as I stopped bleeding, I ovulated within a few days, and just 7 days after I ovulated I got the heaviest period of my life.  It lasted 12 days, and was way heavier than my miscarriage.

To make matters even more wonderful, the hormones from my miscarriage, the medications taken to induce it, the medications taken to try to control the pain, and the uncontrollable grief that followed, caused the perfect storm inside my body.  I ended up with a severe flare of my autoimmune disease, ulcerative colitis.  It got slowly worse throughout May and June, and by July I was literally dying.  I lost 35lbs altogether, 25lbs of which I lost in just 3 weeks (I am thin to begin with so I ended up underweight and sickly skinny from this).  I was losing 3 cups of blood a day.  Putting anything on my tongue, no matter how tiny, made me gag and throw up.  I couldn't stand, I could barely get to the toilet (26 times a day, just to let out blood).  I couldn't read or watch TV.  I didn't have the energy to do anything except lay in bed with my eyes closed.  For weeks. I couldn't even sit propped up by pillows.  My heart rate was through the roof.  Even rolling over in bed would shoot my heart rate up to 120 and it would take an hour for it to calm down.  My heart would pound so hard it shook my whole body. 

I felt SO terrible.  I thought I was going to die and it was terrifying.  I didn't want to leave my children motherless.

My specialist was wonderful and got me on the right medications in the middle of July (I'd been to the ER twice before then and the medications they prescribed me didn't help, I just kept getting worse).  She also forced me to eat what I could, no matter how unhealthy it was, and to get out of bed as much as I could, no matter how terrible I felt.  I remember thinking "You clearly have no idea how I'm feeling right now."  Like, I couldn't even lean over to get a drink off my bedside table.  And putting food in my mouth made me vomit.  I had no appetite and didn't want to eat ANYTHING.  How was I supposed to get out of bed and eat?  But I tried.

It took along time, and my efforts were pitiful at first.  Eating a few chunks of watermelon.  Drinking an Ensure.  Limping bent over to get to the couch instead of staying in bed.  I started trying to spend an hour each day sitting outside under a tree instead of just being inside all the time.  By the end of July I could finally sit propped up part of the time, and I started to crochet.  I spent a lot of time meditating and thinking positively to try and control my anxiety, as stress has a large influence on autoimmune disease.

I slowly got better during August, and by the beginning of September I was mostly normal and in remission.  I'm extremely thankful that I'm still alive and able to parent my children again.  Justin was on summer vacation (he's a teacher) during the two months that I was at my worst, and I'm so grateful for how those two things coincided.


I couldn't bring myself to write about any of this before now.  Since getting deathly ill I've been trying very hard to stay positive and grateful.  I feel like I've rewired the way I think.  I'm still very sad about losing my baby, and it still makes me cry, but the difference is that now I have the tools to acknowledge but not dwell on those feelings, and to focus on all the good things in my life (of which I have many).

This has been more challenging in the last short while.  This seems like a weird way to bring this up (at the end of a post like this), but almost two weeks ago I found out that I am pregnant again.  I am a little over 5 weeks.  I want this baby so badly, but I have constant anxiety that something is going to go wrong again.  I am due at the end of June, but I can't seem to get to the point where I think I will ACTUALLY have a baby at the end of June.

I was always very afraid of having a miscarriage, especially in my first pregnancy.  I was never one of those naive, blissfully pregnant people.  I always was afraid something would go wrong.  But now something HAS gone wrong, and now I'm in a place where I just can't seem to feel like there's a possibility of it going right.  I feel like I'm just waiting for the bad part to come, so I can try and deal with it (and hopefully not almost die from my autoimmune disease again).

After my miscarriage I made an appointment with my fertility clinic in June.  I wanted to be a patient of theirs immediately, so that I would have their monitoring available to me no matter how we ended up getting pregnant (IF we got pregnant).  We had a plan to do IUIs this summer (we would have been able to do three before Justin went back to school), but I got sick, so it all got put on the back burner.  Then, my first normal cycle (my cycle was extremely messed up this summer from being so ill and also being on prednisone, which shuts down your adrenals), the first time we've had sex since June, we get pregnant.  It's madness.  How did we spend 8 years trying to get pregnant every month, having to do fertility treatments to have our two living children, and then suddenly in 2016 we get pregnant naturally twice.  Twice in a ROW, really.

I got my betas done 5 times, and they've all doubled in less than 48 hours.  I forced myself to not go again today, but I might go on Friday.  My uterus is quite swollen and I can feel it.  I'm ridiculously bloated (like I have been in all my pregnancies).  I'm a little more hungry, a little more tired.  Nothing major going on yet. 

I have an early ultrasound booked for November 9, two weeks from now.  I don't think it'll make me feel much better, though, since my last baby didn't actually die until after I had had at ultrasound at 8 weeks 3 days.  I think if I made it to 9 or 10 weeks and had an ultrasound where the baby was measuring appropriately I would feel a little better.  Logically that makes no sense, because things could still go wrong after that point.  But I think it's normal for people to just not feel at all comfortable until after they passed the point at which their last baby died.


So really, this is why I finally wrote about my horrible experiences in the last 6 months.  Because I'm pregnant again.  While I'd like to ignore it and hardly think about it (because I have a tendency to obsess about the fact that I'm pregnant and it makes things go soooo slowly), if this pregnancy goes well and I actually have a child at the end of it, I'm going to wish I had recorded things like I did for my first three pregnancies.

8 Weeks 2 Days - Heartbeat!

I found the heartbeat this morning!  It was the exact same process as it was when I was pregnant with Isaiah: I looked for it for days, knowing I probably wouldn't find it yet, and then at 8 weeks 2 days I found it!  I think it's a funny coincidence that I found it at 8 weeks 2 days both times (I didn't have a Doppler with Noah's pregnancy).

I found it a few times.  The first time I thought I was recording it, but it turned out my phone was out of storage.  I tried to find it again after I made some room on my phone.  It took awhile, and at one point I gave up and wiped all the gel off my belly.  Then I was like "Whatever, I'm trying again."  And I found it after a few minutes.  I got it recorded that time!  I was afraid to even breathe because it's so easy to lose it at this point because the heart is so tiny.  But I recorded it for about a minute.

Tomorrow is my first ultrasound, so I'll go into it far less nervous than I might have been otherwise.

As for other symptoms:

-I am not nearly as sick as I was with Noah and Isaiah, but I feel like garbage a lot of the time.  With my other pregnancies, especially Noah's, I felt like I was 2 seconds away from throwing up at all times. If I even turned my head to the side my stomach would lurch.  I was useless.  I was similarly ill with Isaiah, but it was better controlled by the Diclectin (which I was also on with Noah, but I took more when Isaiah's pregnancy so it worked better).  With this pregnancy, I almost always have that feeling I get before I get the stomach flu, where I'm like "Huh... I feel really gross... I feel like I'm going to wake up at 1am puking my guts out."  So it's like a constant mild nausea.  But it's tolerable.  I can still function.  I just can't do much extra functioning.  I don't want to move around too much, so I'm not lifting weights or going for walks or doing any of that normal stuff I was doing everyday before I was pregnant.

-My body is already being stupid.  I spent two days with a leg that really hurt, then 4 days with a foot that really hurt, then 3 days with a hip that hurt so bad I could barely walk.  I didn't do anything to hurt myself for any of those things.

-My pubic bones hurts a bit (it started hurting at 5 weeks), but it's not bad.  Sometimes I don't feel the discomfort, other times I do.  I'm being careful about how I move, though.  No more lunges.

-I'm insanely, painfully hungry at all times.  It's awful how hungry I am.  I have tried to keep things under control and not overeat too much, but I've still gained 8 lbs in 4 weeks.  I've realized that as much as I try not to, it is my lot in life to gain crazy amounts of weight in the first trimester.  It's happened every time.  Yesterday was the first day I wasn't in extreme discomfort from hunger all day, and it's because I ate leftover pizza for breakfast, and pizza at my parents' for lunch.  So maybe I should just eat pizza for all my meals.  I'd probably actually end up netting less calories that way than I currently am, because nothing else fills me up.

-I'm peeing all the time.  That started sometime after 6 weeks.  And it's the "I really have to pee right now!" thing, and then when you go there's not nearly as much pee as it felt like there would be.

-I'm hating chicken.  I always cook up big batches of chicken breasts and keep them in my fridge so I have heathy protein to eat all the time, but I can't stomach that chicken now.  I can't stand the seasonings I always use on it (which I usually love), and I can't think of any other way to prepare it with the stuff I have on hand.  Or even the stuff I could buy at the store. 

-My boobs still hurt.

-My belly is still big.  I don't have an 8 week picture, but this one is from 7 weeks 4 days.

I've been hiding it with  cardigans (to hide the side view) paired with thick, long infinity scarves, but it's not working great anymore.  I can hide it with one of Justin's hoodies (he's way bigger than me), but we're finally getting warm weather here and I'm not going to be able to keep wearing scarves and hoodies.

I wouldn't mind people knowing, especially now that I've found the heartbeat, but I'm just actually embarrassed by how big I get so quickly.  I don't look forward to the "How far along are you?" questions and having to answer with such a low number.  And people think "Holy crap, how many oreos did you eat?!"  I feel shame.  Haha.  Why does this happen to me?

I think there's a few other things I could mention, but I can't remember them now and I need to move on with my day!

6 Weeks 4 Days

I'm in my paranoid phase.

I'm not sick yet.  My uterus is contracting less, so I can't feel it as easily as I could last week. (It's about halfway to my belly button when I CAN feel it.)

Basically I'm convinced the baby has died. I'm glad I documented my previous pregnancies so well, because this is exactly what I felt at this exact point in my pregnancy with Isaiah. For these exact same reasons.  At least my crazy is consistent.

My ultrasound isn't until April 18, which is almost 2 weeks away. That was the soonest they would give me one. They wanted me to be 9 weeks, so I went by my last menstrual period so I would be "9 weeks," even though according to when I ovulated I'll be 8 weeks 3 days.

I'm in that ridiculous phase where I WANT to get nauseous so I'll feel like my pregnancy is progressing normally.  I recognize that is nuts, but I just need some reassurance. People keep saying "Maybe you won't get sick this time."  But that seems improbable, considering how sick I was in my previous two pregnancies.

This morning the thought of eating eggs grossed me out, and I eat eggs every morning.  My gag reflex is maybe slightly more sensitive.

I'm finally at the INTENSELY HUNGRY stage. I was hungry before now, but as of last night, I'm at the stage where I have to eat in the middle of the night because the hunger is so intense and painful.

Also I'm dealing with a lot of low blood pressure/low blood sugar symptoms. I frequently feel light headed, I'm often dizzy, and I get shaky and weak if I don't have enough food in my system.  I always have low blood pressure (normal for me is about 90/60), so the dizziness I normally have is even worse.

Somehow I've got to make it through the next two weeks without constantly thinking that my baby died.

Ok I have to run and make dinner.  I didn't realize how late it was.

It's Been Too Long, and Things Are Changing

I haven't posted (or logged in) in 2 years.  I always wish I did, because so much happens and I no longer record any of it (unless you count Facebook statuses).  It's just hard to find the time.  Seriously, as I'm sitting here trying to type this post, Noah is standing beside me and won't stop talking to me ("Imagine if we had to walk to the cottage?  Can you imagine how long that would take?  Do you think we're ever going to make videos on YouTube? I think we will.  If we did I think I would...").  It makes typing coherent sentences a little difficult.

I'm hoping that will change for the next little while, because.... drum roll...

I'M PREGNANT.

What?  I know.  We did it all on our own this time, no fertility treatments.  It's something I always knew could happen, but I thought it would happen when I was, like, 40, and definitely didn't want any more kids.  We WANTED this baby.  And I'm only 31.

We'd been trying.  For over two years, actually.  It felt pointless, but I just couldn't make myself call my clinic.  They've got completely new staff and my doctor is no longer practicing, so it would be like figuring out a completely different clinic.  Plus it's an hour away and would be so time consuming and emotionally consuming.  The idea of going there was giving me anxiety.  I had almost resigned myself to the fact that we would only have two kids.

We only did it ONCE the cycle I got pregnant, because we've been dealing with a LOT of illnesses in our house.  The one time we did it we probably shouldn't have, because Justin was just starting to get sick.  But we wanted to, so we did.  And it happened to be the day before I ovulated.  And after 8 years of never using birth control and trying our hardest but never getting pregnant, that one fluke time that we basically did it just because we wanted to and not because we didn't want to miss ovulation, I get pregnant.

I was SUPER sick when I found out.  Sicker than I had ever been in my life.  I couldn't swallow, I couldn't even talk.  It was the day I was supposed to get my period (I always get it at 12DPO).  The two days beforehand I had gotten a tiny bit of brown spotting on a few occasions when I wiped, so I was kind of thinking that my period was REALLY wanting to come.  So I figured I'd have it right away in the morning.

It was 5am and I still didn't have my period.  No big deal, I still had all day to get it.  But the spotting the last couple of days, and the fact that I had that but my period hadn't arrived yet made me think I should test.  I hadn't slept all night anyway because I was in too much pain. 

I started by taking ovulation tests, because that's what I do.  Two different brands, because one of them is more sensitive than the others.  Neither of them was actually positive.  The more sensitive brand was maybe getting close, but the other brand definitely wasn't.

Still, I felt compelled to use an HPT.  I dipped it in and sat there watching it with my iPhone flashlight.  I don't know why, but I was expecting it to turn positive.

And then it did.

And I just sat there staring at it like "Are you kidding me?"  I was surprised, but I wasn't surprised.  I always thought we'd get pregnant on our own one day, but at the same time I never thought it would happen.  My mind has always been filled with a dichotomy of thoughts on the topic.

Anyway, it was 5am and Justin was still sleeping (he cosleeps with Noah, I cosleep with Isaiah).  He gets super red eyes if he wakes up too early, and I didn't want to wake up Noah, so I just texted him to let me know when he was awake.

In the meantime I texted two girlfriends, Corey and Kayla.  Corey was up nursing her baby at 6am so she was the first person I told.  Kayla was shortly after.

Justin woke up around 7am and texted me that he was awake and going to the bathroom.  So, super sick me hobbled to the kitchen and waited for him, sitting in a chair.  When he came out of the bathroom he said "What's up?) 

I had no voice, and no energy for any fanfare, so I just whispered, "I'm pregnant." 
He said, "Whatever." 
I whispered, "No seriously, I'm pregnant." 
He said, "No you're not." 
I whispered, "Yes, I am."
He said, seriously, "Why are you messing with me?"
I whispered, (and it was extremely hard to whisper this many words) "I'm not messing with you, I am actually pregnant.  Here's the test."

And then he had his hands on his chest saying, "What?!  How?!  We only did it once!!  Oh my goodness!! You're pregnant?!"  He was insanely excited and I was just sitting there, feeling like I'm dying, wishing I could muster together enough energy and enthusiasm to act really excited.

It took a little while to sink in, but I definitely has.  I'm 5.5 weeks pregnant now.  At 4 weeks pregnant I had a flat stomach and a 6 pack.  This was me in the MORNING on the day I turned 5 weeks (I'm much bigger in the evenings).  I hadn't even showered yet, but I wanted to see how my maternity jeans fit.

Just like with the other two, I am growing insanely quickly.  I don't really understand why this happens to me.  My uterus does get big very very quickly, but I don't get why I immediately get so much bloat higher in my abdomen as well.  It never disappeared with my other two pregnancies, so I don't expect it to this time.

Because I haven't been seeing a fertility clinic, this pregnancy doesn't have the same level of monitoring that my previous pregnancies have had.  Because of that I've taken like 15 pregnancy tests, and as of this morning the lines are still getting much darker every time I take a test! 

As for symptoms - at 5.5 weeks my big symptoms are major fatigue, bloating, and very sore boobs.  I had a lot of aversions last week, but they're not so bad anymore so I think it might have been a strange symptom of my illness.  I'm still getting over it and it's been 2.5 weeks since I got sick.

So, this is why I'm back.  I documented by first two pregnancies very closely, and I've enjoyed being able to look back at what happened when with both pregnancies.  Hopefully I can pop in once in awhile to record what happens with this little Bambino.

Isaiah's Birth Story (For Real)

Early Labour

My due date with Isaiah was October 10, 2012.  My midwife, Christine, and I had agreed that once I hit 37 weeks, we would begin doing stretch and sweeps on a weekly basis.  The point of this was to help me not go overdue, since I had been in such bad pain for so long (starting at 7 weeks).  It usually takes several stretch and sweeps for them to do anything (and some people will swear they don't do anything at all), so we thought starting at 37 weeks might hopefully mean I'd have the baby around 39 weeks.

I had a midwife appointment on Thursday September 20, at which I was 37 weeks 1 day.  I had been checking myself for weeks, and had been dilated for quite awhile.  I already knew before going to the appointment that I was at least 2cm dilated, which Christine confirmed when she did the internal.  I was 2cm, very soft, but still kind of long (the length of my cervix varied hourly, depending on how low Isaiah's head was at the moment).  She did a really good stretch and sweep.  Like, really good.  It hurt, like it is supposed to.  Afterward I bled.  Not just spotting, but like the bloody show I had with Noah when I was in active labour.  It was not excessive bleeding, but enough to know things really got stirred up in there.

My appointment was at 11am, and by 12pm I was having very frequent BH.  They were uncomfortable and achy (my back was especially achy), but not super painful.  Noah and I spent the afternoon with my Dad at my parents' house, and I tried to walk around a bunch to "help things along" (keep in mind, however, that I thought I was just dilating further, not actually going into labour.  You're supposed to be crampy after a stretch and sweep.)

By the late afternoon I was more crampy and achy.  I was really hoping that I was actually dilating, because otherwise it really sucked.  That night I went to bed a little before 10. It wasn't a good sleep to start out with. I was up already at 10:40 to pee. Then I was up to pee at least every hour, and also awakened by significant (and even more painful) contractions on a regular basis.

At 2am the contractions got worse. They were every 3-7 minutes and they hurt like hell. I'm pretty sure that laying on my side was the absolute worst position for me to be in during them, but I kept hoping that relaxing and staying in bed would make them go away.  It didn't.

I finally started timing them with an app on my iPod, and between 3:30 and 5am I had 20 brutal contractions. Then the app wouldn't time any more because I'm cheap and won't pay for the full version.  Meanwhile, I kept going to the bathroom and the "bloody show" was increasing from the day before.

Finally around 5:30 the contractions started spacing out a little bit more until they were coming every 15 minutes.  I figured this wasn't 'real' labour.

When I got out of bed Friday morning (keep in mind I'd been awake since 2am) I felt really nauseous.  I was confused, because nausea is supposed to be a sign that labour is imminent, but my contractions had spaced out.  There were only 3 or 4 an hour until about 10:30am when my sister got here (we had previously planned the visit, thank goodness). They started to increase in frequency then, and they got really friggin painful. Some of them weren't so bad, but many of them were at a 7/10 on the pain scale. I could deal with them better if I was standing up, best if I was leaning over resting on something. Sitting or lying down they hurt waaay worse. I thought that was weird.

So, all during Friday I was contracting painfully every 7 minutes, each contraction lasting 1 minute.  I also had the runs (also a sign of imminent labour), and I continued to bleed (although the bleeding didn't increase).

Around 4pm I called my midwife.  I didn't think I really needed to, I just wanted reassurance that this is going to go away! The conversation was as fruitless as I thought it was going to be (not Christine's fault, it was just the nature of my labour). She told me to try and get some rest. Take a Gravol and some Tylenol (already done several times, it did nothing). Have a hot bath (the water in my bathtub doesn't cover my belly, so that's a bit useless). Try and sleep between contractions tonight (ummmm... not gonna happen). Page her again if things get longer, stronger, or closer together. Page her again if it's still like this tomorrow afternoon (that would be Saturday).

Around 9pm on Friday contractions slowed to about every 10 minutes.  However, the bloody show was back with a vengeance   At midnight that night I checked myself after an especially painful contraction (I'd been avoiding doing this because I was sore down there from the stretch and sweep).  I felt like I was more dilated.  The baby's head was low, and I could feel his water sack bulging.  Shortly after checking myself my contractions got closer together.  They were coming every 3-4 minutes for awhile, and we thought we might actually have the baby before Noah woke up around 7am.  We were running around the house getting things ready - blowing up the pool, vacuuming, doing laundry, backing up pictures and videos so we could clear the SD cards in our cameras, etc.  Really, Justin was doing most of this, but I was doing my part to get things ready between contractions.

I also took my last belly picture:

By 3:30am nothing had changed.  Contractions spaced out to every 7-10 minutes again.  They were longer, stronger, and more painful, but not closer together.  I gave up and told Justin to go to bed.  I went to bed too, but I didn't sleep a wink that whole night.

The next morning things continued the exact same way.  At about 10:30am I called my midwife.  Things were just too ridiculous to wait until the afternoon.  She said she had actually been anticipating that I would call her in the middle of the night (so was I!).  She had a home visit to make at 11:30, and then she was coming to our house around 1.  She said with the strength of my contractions she'd be really surprised if I'd had no cervical change, and we'd try a few tricks to speed things up.

Midwife Arrives

Christine arrived right around 1.  She took my vitals, and we hung out for awhile while she timed my contractions.  They did not perform well for her.  I had a long, strong one.  Then 10 minutes later had a weak, 30-40 second one.  Then 10 minutes later I had a medium one.  It was lame.

Around 1:45 or 2pm she checked my cervix.  Remember, on Thursday (about 50 hours earlier) I was 2cm.  I was now a very very stretchy 6cm.  She could stretch me to 8cm with no problem.  She and I were both pretty pleased with that, and she said "Lauren, you're having that baby today!"  I'm pretty sure I replied with "Oh thank the LORD!"  She asked if she could do another stretch and sweep, and I said yes.  This one wasn't as long as the first one, but I think it was equally painful.

Active Labour

Immediately after the stretch (so around 2pm) my contractions started coming every 3-4 minutes and they were even stronger and more intense.  She had previously suggested that I take a labour tincture, and I asked her if I really needed to, considering I was suddenly in active labour.  She said "Yes, take it, we want to make sure the contractions stay regular."  She was thinking she'd give me a couple of doses, but I ended up only taking one.

I called my mom and said "Alright, I'm in labour, come on over!  Like, NOW, I'm 6cm.  And call Giliane."  I was really needing her to arrive, because I needed support from someone.  My midwife was busy setting up all her supplies and equipment, and Justin was playing with Noah in the basement.  In between contractions I yelled down to him that I needed the pool filled ASAP.  It was one thing when contractions were every 7-10 minutes.  It was a whole other thing when they were every 3-4 minutes!

I'm not sure what time my Mom arrived.  Basically from the time Christine stretched my cervix and onward I have no idea what time anything happened until Isaiah was actually born.  But she did arrive, and once she did she rubbed my back hard through a few contractions.  Then the pool was ready, so she went downstairs to distract Noah while I got in the water.

I laboured in the water for awhile, and it was much better than labouring on land.  The water was really  hot, which felt great for the contractions, but it was heating me up so I had a fan blowing on me and Justin was bringing me cold washcloths for my face, neck, and chest.  At some point during this another midwife arrived.  It wasn't my second or third midwife, because neither of them were available.  It was the fourth midwife in the practice - the one I had never even met.  I didn't really care though, because Christine was there and she was in charge.

At some point Christine suggested we get out of the pool and talk about breaking my water.  They also wanted to take my vitals.  I didn't really want to artificially break my water, because I didn't want things to get worse and I knew they would.  However, her reasoning went something like this: "It's not a bad idea, Lauren.  It would be good to know the colour of the water.  If there's meconium we won't have time to get to the hospital, but we can call EMS to wait outside just in case the baby aspirated any of it.  It will likely make the contractions more intense, but the baby will probably be here in about half an hour."  Christine is not usually a "break the water" kind of person (she had 4 or 5 babies born in the caul in the last year), so I think this was mostly because a) I live 25 minutes from the hospital, and b) I'd been in labour for 2 days already.

Anyway, we walked to the bedroom and I had a bunch of contractions. Let me tell you, they SUCKED out of the water (not that they rocked in the water, but they were certainly better!).  They took my pulse, which was high, and my blood pressure, which was super low (like, 80/35 or something crazy like that).  The baby's heart rate was also high.  We determined that all of this was because the water in the pool was too hot, so we agreed to add more cold water before I got back in.

I hemmed and hawed for awhile about the water-breaking thing, but then just decided to go for it because if there was meconium in the water and if the baby had aspirated any of it, I wanted to make sure EMS would be there to suction out his lungs.

At this point I was 7-8 cm dilated.  Christine broke my water and they carefully examined it for meconium.  A lot of bloody show came out with the water, so there were a couple of spots they looked at closely with a flashlight, but it was determined that the water was clear.  Relief.

I got back in the tub.  My contractions were a lot more intense.  I had already been feeling pushy during them, and that continued.  Before now I was quiet during the contractions, but now I had to moan lowly through them.

I believe about half an hour passed (it must have been about 4:24pm) when I had a particularly pushy-sounding contraction.  Christine asked me if I felt like pushing, and I said yes, so she said she would check me.  She had me change positions so that my bottom was facing in a better direction (the way I was facing there wasn't really any access for the midwives for when the baby came).  This was tough to do, but I managed.  While I was moving I said that I didn't want to push, because pushing was scary (we have this all on video, which is how I remember this part so clearly).  I said Noah just pushed himself out of me and I didn't really have to do anything, and I really didn't want a long drawn out pushing phase with this baby.  Christine encouraged me, of course, and then checked my cervix.  I was 9 cm with a little bit of length left.  This was at 4:26.

Christine and Joanne (second midwife) then told me I should get out of the pool, go to the bathroom, and have a few contractions on land.  I didn't have to pee, and I really didn't want to try and walk, but I agreed.  They helped me out of the prone position and onto my knees, but right when I got on my knees I had a huge contraction and started pushing uncontrollably.  They could tell from my noises, so Christine started telling me not to push.  I said "I can't help it I'm pushing like crazy!"  She said, "You're only 9 cm Lauren, you're not ready.  Say 'house house house' it's pretty impossible to push when you're saying that."  

I ignored this, because it's actually pretty impossible to say "House" when you're pushing :)  And there was no way I was able to stop what my body was doing.  I was on my knees in the pool with my hand down there feeling what was going on.  At that point Justin (who was off camera) said "Breathe deep, babe, just stop pushing."  I took my hand off of myself and waved it him in a "Just be quiet, you don't know what you're talking about" kind of way.  Not that I was mad, but I had 3 people telling me to stop pushing when I knew this kid was coming out NOW.

Right after doing that I put my hand back down there and everything was pushing outward and I could feel myself opening up.  While pushing I said, "Nope... he's coming."  Christine said "He's coming?  Okay," really calmly and walked over to get gloves and equipment ready.  I think Joanne was like "Oh my goodness get your gloves on!" But Christine said, "She's okay, she's got this."  And I totally did.  This was the part where I felt 100% in control.  All my pain seemed to be gone, and I wasn't feeling any of the stretching or the "ring of fire" from crowning.  The water seemed to make it all go away.

At this point I just pushed his head out.  I was kneeling in the tub with my hand on his head, and it felt amazing.  I couldn't believe his head was out of me.  Christine unwrapped the cord from around his neck (it was looped once, like Noah's), then told me to bring my legs back and push his shoulders out.  I didn't really need any coaching, because it was all just happening on it's own, but I kind of moved backward (although I can't remember what position I was in) and pushed the rest of him out (4:29pm).  Christine and I lifted him up onto my chest.  It was such a relief!  He was soooo tiny, I could tell immediately that he was smaller than Noah was at birth.  It took him 20 seconds to start crying, and there was talk of cutting the cord (they thought he might need resuscitation), but I knew he would be fine.  I rubbed the bottom of his feet and talked to him and he immediately started crying.

So, from the time I was checked and told I was 9 cm to when Isaiah came out was 3 minutes.  I was pushing for about 2 of those minutes, but it was basically just one long instinctual push.  Nothing needed to be coached, it was just my body doing what it had to do to get the baby out.  I loved it.

Within a few minutes of his birth I got out of the tub so they could assess my bleeding (it's hard to tell when you're bleeding into water).  My midwifes lifted me up while I was still holding Isaiah and I got on the couch.  Within about 2 minutes of that I delivered the placenta.  Then all the other stuff went on.  Checking for tears (I had a small first degree tear - which is kind of amazing considering he came out so quickly I had no time to stretch - it must have been the water), sutures, some uterine massage, etc.  I was just cuddling Isaiah this whole time.  He nursed about 30-45 minutes after he was born (he wasn't interested before that), 20 minutes on each side.

After I was done being stitched, my mom, sister, and Noah came upstairs.  Noah was pretty excited about his little brother being on the outside now.  The first thing he said was "He is so little and tiny!!  Awww... he's so cute!"

Eventually I was ready to have him weighed (7lbs), measured (20 inches, with a 13 inch head - 1.8 inches smaller than Noah's!) and examined.  This was all done on the couch next to me, so I could be touching him the whole time.

(I just saw that I'm holding Noah's hand in this picture:)

Christine stayed until... actually, I don't know.  At some point I got off the couch and she helped me shower and get dressed.  The shower went a lot smoother than my shower after giving birth to Noah, where I felt like I was going to pass out.  My Dad showed up right after I got out of the shower.  I guess he'd been at home just waiting for someone to tell him to come over, but we never got around to it, so he took it upon himself to come visit.  My mom ordered pizza for everyone for dinner, and Christine stayed for that.  I'm thinking she must have left around 7 or 7:30, after reviewing all the "things to watch out for" with me.  My mom bathed Noah for us, but I did end up nursing him before he went to bed.

After Noah went to bed my inlaws showed up for a brief visit.  I wasn't there for most of it because I was changing Isaiah's diaper and then nursing him again (while relaxing in bed).  

It was Saturday evening and I had been awake since Thursday at 2am, so I really wanted to go to bed and crash, but I was just way too keyed up to sleep.  I kept replaying the birth in my head.  In a weird way I am sad that it's over.  It's like after your wedding - you are anticipating it for so long and then it goes so quickly and all you have is the memories.  Although in this case I have my actual baby:)  But still.  It's the same sort of "Well... that's over" feeling.

I did end up getting about 4 hours of sleep that night, which was good.  The next night I only got one hour, and I believe I had a meltdown that day.

All in all, my birth was amazing.  I mean, it would have been nice if I didn't have 2 days of early labour with zero sleep, but since it ended up bringing me my baby and I still had a wonderful home birth, with my midwife who I love, it doesn't really bother me.  It makes for an interesting story, anyway.

We all couldn't stop talking about how awesome it was to have a home birth.  It's too bad more people don't do it.  It's awesome to give birth and already be in your own house, on your own couch, going to sleep in your own bed.  You're not woken up by nurses every 3 hours, and there aren't tons of people poking and prodding you and your baby.  The midwife comes to your house for a visit the next day, and on days 3 and 5 (at least they do where I live) to check on you and the baby.

It was just such a calm, comfortable experience.  Christine was so calm, comforting, and encouraging.   I couldn't have asked for a caretaker that I felt more comfortable with and who was more my style.  If I ever have another baby I can only hope she's still practicing in my area.

So, that's the super long story of how Isaiah Matthew made his entrance into our lives.  I didn't think I could immediately love another baby as much as I love Noah, but I totally do.  

Isaiah's Birth Story

Early Labour

My due date with Isaiah was October 10, 2012.  My midwife, Christine, and I had agreed that once I hit 37 weeks, we would begin doing stretch and sweeps on a weekly basis.  The point of this was to help me not go overdue, since I had been in such bad pain for so long (starting at 7 weeks).  It usually takes several stretch and sweeps for them to do anything (and some people will swear they don't do anything at all), so we thought starting at 37 weeks might hopefully mean I'd have the baby around 39 weeks.

I had a midwife appointment on Thursday September 20, at which I was 37 weeks 1 day.  I had been checking myself for weeks, and had been dilated for quite awhile.  I already knew before going to the appointment that I was at least 2cm dilated, which Christine confirmed when she did the internal.  I was 2cm, very soft, but still kind of long (the length of my cervix varied hourly, depending on how low Isaiah's head was at the moment).  She did a really good stretch and sweep.  Like, really good.  It hurt, like it is supposed to.  Afterward I bled.  Not just spotting, but like the bloody show I had with Noah when I was in active labour.  It was not excessive bleeding, but enough to know things really got stirred up in there.

My appointment was at 11am, and by 12pm I was having very frequent BH.  They were uncomfortable and achy (my back was especially achy), but not super painful.  Noah and I spent the afternoon with my Dad at my parents' house, and I tried to walk around a bunch to "help things along" (keep in mind, however, that I thought I was just dilating further, not actually going into labour.  You're supposed to be crampy after a stretch and sweep.)

By the late afternoon I was more crampy and achy.  I was really hoping that I was actually dilating, because otherwise it really sucked.  That night I went to bed a little before 10. It wasn't a good sleep to start out with. I was up already at 10:40 to pee. Then I was up to pee at least every hour, and also awakened by significant (and even more painful) contractions on a regular basis.

At 2am the contractions got worse. They were every 3-7 minutes and they hurt like hell. I'm pretty sure that laying on my side was the absolute worst position for me to be in during them, but I kept hoping that relaxing and staying in bed would make them go away.  It didn't.

I finally started timing them with an app on my iPod, and between 3:30 and 5am I had 20 brutal contractions. Then the app wouldn't time any more because I'm cheap and won't pay for the full version.  Meanwhile, I kept going to the bathroom and the "bloody show" was increasing from the day before.

Finally around 5:30 the contractions started spacing out a little bit more until they were coming every 15 minutes.  I figured this wasn't 'real' labour.

When I got out of bed Friday morning (keep in mind I'd been awake since 2am) I felt really nauseous.  I was confused, because nausea is supposed to be a sign that labour is imminent, but my contractions had spaced out.  There were only 3 or 4 an hour until about 10:30am when my sister got here (we had previously planned the visit, thank goodness). They started to increase in frequency then, and they got really friggin painful. Some of them weren't so bad, but many of them were at a 7/10 on the pain scale. I could deal with them better if I was standing up, best if I was leaning over resting on something. Sitting or lying down they hurt waaay worse. I thought that was weird.

So, all during Friday I was contracting painfully every 7 minutes, each contraction lasting 1 minute.  I also had the runs (also a sign of imminent labour), and I continued to bleed (although the bleeding didn't increase).

Around 4pm I called my midwife.  I didn't think I really needed to, I just wanted reassurance that this is going to go away! The conversation was as fruitless as I thought it was going to be (not Christine's fault, it was just the nature of my labour). She told me to try and get some rest. Take a Gravol and some Tylenol (already done several times, it did nothing). Have a hot bath (the water in my bathtub doesn't cover my belly, so that's a bit useless). Try and sleep between contractions tonight (ummmm... not gonna happen). Page her again if things get longer, stronger, or closer together. Page her again if it's still like this tomorrow afternoon (that would be Saturday).

Around 9pm on Friday contractions slowed to about every 10 minutes.  However, the bloody show was back with a vengeance   At midnight that night I checked myself after an especially painful contraction (I'd been avoiding doing this because I was sore down there from the stretch and sweep).  I felt like I was more dilated.  The baby's head was low, and I could feel his water sack bulging.  Shortly after checking myself my contractions got closer together.  They were coming every 3-4 minutes for awhile, and we thought we might actually have the baby before Noah woke up around 7am.  We were running around the house getting things ready - blowing up the pool, vacuuming, doing laundry, backing up pictures and videos so we could clear the SD cards in our cameras, etc.  Really, Justin was doing most of this, but I was doing my part to get things ready between contractions.

I also took my last belly picture:

By 3:30am nothing had changed.  Contractions spaced out to every 7-10 minutes again.  They were longer, stronger, and more painful, but not closer together.  I gave up and told Justin to go to bed.  I went to bed too, but I didn't sleep a wink that whole night.

The next morning things continued the exact same way.  At about 10:30am I called my midwife.  Things were just too ridiculous to wait until the afternoon.  She said she had actually been anticipating that I would call her in the middle of the night (so was I!).  She had a home visit to make at 11:30, and then she was coming to our house around 1.  She said with the strength of my contractions she'd be really surprised if I'd had no cervical change, and we'd try a few tricks to speed things up.

Midwife Arrives

Christine arrived right around 1.  She took my vitals, and we hung out for awhile while she timed my contractions.  They did not perform well for her.  I had a long, strong one.  Then 10 minutes later had a weak, 30-40 second one.  Then 10 minutes later I had a medium one.  It was lame.

Around 1:45 or 2pm she checked my cervix.  Remember, on Thursday (about 50 hours earlier) I was 2cm.  I was now a very very stretchy 6cm.  She could stretch me to 8cm with no problem.  She and I were both pretty pleased with that, and she said "Lauren, you're having that baby today!"  I'm pretty sure I replied with "Oh thank the LORD!"  She asked if she could do another stretch and sweep, and I said yes.  This one wasn't as long as the first one, but I think it was equally painful.

Active Labour

Immediately after the stretch (so around 2pm) my contractions started coming every 3-4 minutes and they were even stronger and more intense.  She had previously suggested that I take a labour tincture, and I asked her if I really needed to, considering I was suddenly in active labour.  She said "Yes, take it, we want to make sure the contractions stay regular."  She was thinking she'd give me a couple of doses, but I ended up only taking one.

I called my mom and said "Alright, I'm in labour, come on over!  Like, NOW, I'm 6cm.  And call Giliane."  I was really needing her to arrive, because I needed support from someone.  My midwife was busy setting up all her supplies and equipment, and Justin was playing with Noah in the basement.  In between contractions I yelled down to him that I needed the pool filled ASAP.  It was one thing when contractions were every 7-10 minutes.  It was a whole other thing when they were every 3-4 minutes!

I'm not sure what time my Mom arrived.  Basically from the time she stretched my cervix and onward I have no idea what time anything happened until Isaiah was actually born.  But she did arrive, and once she did she rubbed my back hard through a few contractions.  Then the pool was ready, so she went downstairs to distract Noah while I got in the water.

I laboured in the water for awhile, and it was much better than labouring on land.  The water was really  hot, which felt great for the contractions, but it was heating me up so I had a fan blowing on me and Justin was bringing me cold washcloths for my face, neck, and chest.  At some point during this another midwife arrived.  It wasn't my second or third midwife, because neither of them were available.  It was the fourth midwife in the practice - the one I had never even met.  I didn't really care though, because Christine was there and she was in charge.

At some point Christine suggested we get out of the pool and talk about breaking my water.  They also wanted to take my vitals.  I didn't really want to artificially break my water, because I didn't want things to get worse and I knew they would.  However, her reasoning went something like this: "It's not a bad idea, Lauren.  It would be good to know the colour of the water.  If there's meconium we won't have time to get to the hospital, but we can call EMS to wait outside just in case the baby aspirated any of it.  It will likely make the contractions more intense, but the baby will probably be here in about half an hour."  Christine is not usually a "break the water" kind of person (she had 4 or 5 babies born in the caul in the last year), so I think this was mostly because a) I live 25 minutes from the hospital, and b) I'd been in labour for 2 days already.

Anyway, we walked to the bedroom and I had a bunch of contractions. Let me tell you, they SUCKED out of the water (not that they rocked in the water, but they were certainly better!).  They took my pulse, which was high, and my blood pressure, which was super low (like, 80/35 or something crazy like that).  The baby's heart rate was also high.  We determined that all of this was because the water in the pool was too hot, so we agreed to add more cold water before I got back in.

I hemmed and hawed for awhile about the water-breaking thing, but then just decided to go for it because if there was meconium in the water and if the baby had aspirated any of it, I wanted to make sure EMS would be there to suction out his lungs.

At this point I was 7-8 cm dilated.  Christine broke my water and they carefully examined it for meconium.  A lot of bloody show came out with the water, so there were a couple of spots they looked at closely with a flashlight, but it was determined that the water was clear.  Relief.

I got back in the tub.  My contractions were a lot more intense.  I had already been feeling pushy during them, and that continued.  Before now I was quiet during the contractions, but now I had to moan lowly through them.

I believe about half an hour passed (it must have been about 4:24pm) when I had a particularly pushy-sounding contraction.  Christine asked me if I felt like pushing, and I said yes, so she said she would check me.  She had me change positions so that my bottom was facing in a better direction (the way I was facing there wasn't really any access for the midwives for when the baby came).  This was tough to do, but I managed.  While I was moving I said that I didn't want to push, because pushing was scary (we have this all on video, which is how I remember this part so clearly).  I said Noah just pushed himself out of me and I didn't really have to do anything, and I really didn't want a long drawn out pushing phase with this baby.  Christine encouraged me, of course, and then checked my cervix.  I was 9 cm with a little bit of length left.  This was at 4:26.

Christine and Joanne (second midwife) then told me I should get out of the pool, go to the bathroom, and have a few contractions on land.  I didn't have to pee, and I really didn't want to try and walk, but I agreed.  They helped me out of the prone position and onto my knees, but right when I got on my knees I had a huge contraction and started pushing uncontrollably.  They could tell from my noises, so Christine started telling me not to push.  I said "I can't help it I'm pushing like crazy!"  She said, "You're only 9 cm Lauren, you're not ready.  Say 'house house house' it's pretty impossible to push when you're saying that."  

I ignored this, because it's actually pretty impossible to say "House" when you're pushing :)  And there was no way I was able to stop what my body was doing.  I was on my knees in the pool with my hand down there feeling what was going on.  At that point Justin (who was off camera) said "Breathe deep, babe, just stop pushing."  I took my hand off of myself and waved it him in a "Just be quiet, you don't know what you're talking about" kind of way.  Not that I was mad, but I had 3 people telling me to stop pushing when I knew this kid was coming out NOW.

Right after doing that I put my hand back down there and everything was pushing outward and I could feel myself opening up.  While pushing I said, "Nope... he's coming."  Christine said "He's coming?  Okay," really calmly and walked over to get gloves and equipment ready.  I think Joanne was like "Oh my goodness get your gloves on!" But Christine said, "She's okay, she's got this."  And I totally did.  This was the part where I felt 100% in control.  All my pain seemed to be gone, and I wasn't feeling any of the stretching or the "ring of fire" from crowning.  The water seemed to make it all go away.

At this point I just pushed his head out.  I was kneeling in the tub with my hand on his head, and it felt amazing.  I couldn't believe his head was out of me.  Christine unwrapped the cord from around his neck (it was looped once, like Noah's), then told me to bring my legs back and push his shoulders out.  I didn't really need any coaching, because it was all just happening on it's own, but I kind of moved backward (although I can't remember what position I was in) and pushed the rest of him out (4:29pm).  Christine and I lifted him up onto my chest.  It was such a relief!  He was soooo tiny, I could tell immediately that he was smaller than Noah was at birth.  It took him 20 seconds to start crying, and there was talk of cutting the cord (they thought he might need resuscitation), but I knew he would be fine.  I rubbed the bottom of his feet and talked to him and he immediately started crying.

So, from the time I was checked and told I was 9 cm to when Isaiah came out was 3 minutes.  I was pushing for about 2 of those minutes, but it was basically just one long instinctual push.  Nothing needed to be coached, it was just my body doing what it had to do to get the baby out.  I loved it.

Within a few minutes of his birth I got out of the tub so they could assess my bleeding (it's hard to tell when you're bleeding into water).  My midwifes lifted me up while I was still holding Isaiah and I got on the couch.  Within about 2 minutes of that I delivered the placenta.  Then all the other stuff went on.  Checking for tears (I had a small first degree tear - which is kind of amazing considering he came out so quickly I had no time to stretch - it must have been the water), sutures, some uterine massage, etc.  I was just cuddling Isaiah this whole time.  He nursed about 30-45 minutes after he was born (he wasn't interested before that), 20 minutes on each side.

Eventually I was ready to have him weighed (7lbs), measured (20 inches, with a 13 inch head - 1.8 inches smaller than Noah's!) and examined.  This was all done on the couch next to me, so I could be touching him the whole time.

Christine stayed until... actually, I don't know.  At some point I got off the couch and she helped me shower and get dressed.  The shower went a lot smoother than my shower after giving birth to Noah, where I felt like I was going to pass out.  My Dad showed up right after I got out of the shower.  I guess he'd been at home just waiting for someone to tell him to come over, but we never got around to it, so he took it upon himself to come visit.  My mom ordered pizza for everyone for dinner, and Christine stayed for that.  I'm thinking she must have left around 7 or 7:30, after reviewing all the "things to watch out for" with me.  My mom bathed Noah for us, but I did end up nursing him before he went to bed.

After Noah went to bed my inlaws showed up for a brief visit.  I wasn't there for most of it because I was changing Isaiah's diaper and then nursing him again (while relaxing in bed).  

It was Saturday evening and I had been awake since Thursday at 2am, so I really wanted to go to bed and crash, but I was just way too keyed up to sleep.  I kept replaying the birth in my head.  In a weird way I am sad that it's over.  It's like after your wedding - you are anticipating it for so long and then it goes so quickly and all you have is the memories.  Although in this case I had my actual baby:)  But still.  It's the same sort of "Well... that's over" feeling.

I did end up getting about 4 hours of sleep that night, which was good.  The next night I only got one hour, and I believe I had a meltdown that day.

All in all, my birth was amazing.  I mean, it would have been nice if I didn't have 2 days of early labour with zero sleep, but since it ended up bringing me my baby and I still had a wonderful home birth, with my midwife who I love, it doesn't really bother me.  It makes for an interesting story, anyway.

We all couldn't stop talking about how awesome it was to have a home birth.  It's too bad more people don't do it.  It's awesome to give birth and already be in your own house, on your own couch, going to sleep in your own bed.  You're not woken up by nurses every 3 hours, and there aren't tons of people poking and prodding you and your baby.  The midwife comes to your house for a visit the next day, and on days 3 and 5 (at least they do where I live) to check on you and the baby.

It was just such a calm, comfortable experience.  Christine was so calm, comforting, and encouraging.   I couldn't have asked for a caretaker that I felt more comfortable with and who was more my style.  If I ever have another baby I can only hope she's still practicing in my area.

So, that's the super long story of how Isaiah Matthew made his entrance into our lives.  I didn't think I could immediately love another baby as much as I love Noah, but I totally do.  

Welcome Isaiah!

Our second sweet baby boy, Isaiah Matthew, was born at 4:29pm on September 22, 2012.  He was 18 days early, and weighed in at exactly 7lbs and 20 inches.

We had a wonderful waterbirth at home, and are both doing great.  He is already a wonderful nurser!  I am so in love:)

Birth story to come!

Labour Update Part 2

It's just about noon.  Things are the exact same.  Painful contractions, about 10 minutes apart.  Low head, bulging sac.  I don't know how dilated I am because I don't want to dig around too much to figure it out and risk breaking my water (plus I'm not sure I'd be all that great at figuring out anything past a 2 or 3), but I'm pretty sure I've made it to at least 3.

My midwife has a home visit with another client at 11:30, but she is coming around 1pm with her "bag of tricks."  I can't take this anymore.  2 days of labour with no end in sight, and I'm running on only 2 hours of sleep from back on Wednesday night.  I'm sure the baby is fine right now, but we can't keep doing this.  It's not good for either of us long term (especially not ME, who is getting no sleep!).

This is going to end with a baby.  I'm 99.9% sure these contractions are not going to go away.  So either we'll find something natural that will work to put me into active labour, or I'll end up getting induced to get me there (seriously?).  Let's hope it's the first situation because I really don't want an induction.

What's up with the whole "second babies take half the time" rumor?  This second baby is taking like 15 times longer than Noah took!  I mean, I realize I was induced with Noah, but STILL.  This is ridiculous.  He better be here by this time tomorrow!

Labour Update

It's 12:50am.  At 12am I decided to check myself after a really freaking painful contraction.  My guess is that I'm about 75% effaced.  I can't even guess on the dilation.  His head is super low. I am 99% sure I can feel a little bulge from his water sack, and when I poke on it his head is right there and VERY hard, not like I'm poking at it through any muscle or tissue.

My contractions have slowed down and most of this evening from about 9pm onward they've been about every 10 minutes.  But the globby blood is back (it had went away), so combine that with the progress my cervix has made and I'm pretty sure something is really happening.

Obviously sleep is impossible.

Justin is running around the house getting stuff ready.  Vacuuming, blowing up the pool, cleaning out the hose, etc.  He did groceries after Noah went to bed tonight.  Soon we'll probably make up the bed.  Maybe fold some laundry that's in the dryer.

I think I might actually be having this baby today.  September 22... nowhere close to October 10.  18 days early.  Hopefully he's still a good nurser!  And hopefully we have him before Noah wakes up at 7am.  Although with the "puttering" that's been going on for the past 24 hours, that's not guaranteed.  Then again, I went from 5cm dilated to Noah being out half an hour later in my first labour, so anything can happen, really.  That part makes me nervous.  I don't want to call people (midwife, mom, sister) too early, but I also don't want an unassisted birth!

Wouldn't it suck if suddenly things just stop?


Update - it's 6:20am... I haven't slept at all, so I'm exhausted.  I am still contracting regularly, and they're getting longer, stronger,  and more painful, but they're not really getting any closer together (still about 7-10 minutes).  I don't really know what to think.  Thankfully I didn't call and wake anyone up last night.

Contraction Action

Yesterday: Stretch and Sweep.
Last night: Full of hellish contractions.

Time for an update.

This morning I was very nauseous.  I had Justin bring me a garbage can while I was trying to eat toast because I honestly thought I was going to puke.  I couldn't get Noah from his crib until an hour after he woke up because I was so nauseous (thankfully he was quite content in there).

The contractions were only 3 or 4 an hour until about 10:30am when my sister got here (we had previously planned the visit, thank goodness).  They started to increase in frequency then, and they are still really friggin painful.  Some of them aren't so bad, but many of them I would put at a 7/10 on the pain scale.  I can deal with them better if I'm standing up, best if I'm leaning over resting on something.  Sitting or lying down they hurt waaay worse.  I think that's weird.

I'm continuing to bleed, but it's decreasing.

My back still really hurts.

I've had some "loose bowels."

Baby's heart rate is good during the contractions, not really decreasing.

For the past 2.5 hours (at least... I just started officially timing them again 2.5 hours ago) they have been coming approximately every 7 minutes, lasting for about a minute.  And they are still very high on the pain scale.

Thankfully my sister has been here all day to take care of Noah, because I've been useless.

Enough people nagged me (Mom, husband, friend Sarah, sister), so I finally paged my midwife to get her opinion.  I didn't think I really needed to, I just wanted reassurance that this is going to GO AWAY!  The conversation was as fruitless as I thought it was going to be.  She told me to try and get some rest.  Take a gravol and some tylenol (already done several times, it does nothing).  Have a hot bath (the water in my bathtub doesn't cover my belly, so that's a bit useless).  Try and sleep between contractions tonight (ummmm... not gonna happen).  Page her again if things get longer, stronger, or closer together.  Page her again if it's still like this tomorrow afternoon.

She thinks it's quite possible that I could be going into labour, but it's also quite possible that this will all stop.

I feel like I'm at an impasse.  I feel like this might go on for days with no baby.  I'm tired.  I'm in pain.  I don't feel well.  I just want to sleep.  If this ISN'T my real labour, I am super nervous about how bad it's going to be when the time is really here.

I don't know why I had such high hopes that I would BAM go into labour, and within a few hours I'd be holding my baby.

Whoa, That Sucked

In case you didn't read my post from yesterday, I had a midwife appointment where I was found to be 2cm dilated (nothing new, really) and I got a stretch and sweep done.  Yesterday I was cramping all day, with regular (and fairly painful) contractions, and a sore back.  I was bleeding a fair amount - the same amount I bled when I was 4cm dilated and in active, horrible labour with Noah.  You know, the "bloody show".

Well, last night I went to bed a little before 10.  It wasn't a good sleep to start out with.  I was up already at 10:40 to pee.  Then I was up to pee at least every hour, and also awakened by significant (and even more painful) contractions on a regular basis.

Then came 2am.

At 2am the contractions got worse.  They were every 3-7 minutes and they hurt like hell.  I'm pretty sure that laying on my side was the absolute worse position for me to be in during them, but I kept hoping that relaxing and staying in bed would make them go away.

It didn't.

I finally started timing them with an app on my iPod, and between 3:30 and 5am I had 20 brutal contractions.    Then the app wouldn't time any more because I'm cheap and won't pay for the full version.

Meanwhile, I kept going to the bathroom and the "bloody show" was increasing from yesterday.  (I hate the phrase "bloody show", but it definitely wasn't just spotting, so I don't know what else to call it.  It was bright red, mucus-y, goopy, blood.)

Finally around 5:30 the contractions started spacing out a little bit more until they were coming every 15 minutes.  And that is when I knew that I was not in "actual" labour.  I've gone through labour before - no epidural.  I know what labour is.  Last night?  I was in labour.  Unfortunately, it was just not the kind that would bring me my baby.  And it effing sucked.

It's now 6:40 and since my husband is awake, I'm finally "up".  I'm totally and completely exhausted, but relieved.  Being awake, by yourself, in pain, in the dark, thinking you might actually be in labour, from 2am onward?  That's a special kind of awful.

I'm in a really bad mood.  If this happens again tonight I'm going to be really really mad.

37+1 Week Midwife Appointment

I had a midwife appointment this morning at 11.  Blood pressure is still good (110/70), urine is good, and I requested that I stop weighing myself.  Haha, seriously though, it's depressing.  Thankfully she had zero issue with that, so I will be avoiding that freaking scale from now on.

I measured 37.5 weeks, which puts me slightly off-track for growth, as I've been measuring 1-2 weeks ahead for the past month or so.  But this is totally to be expected, considering the baby is pretty low.  I think at this point with Noah I was measuring a little bit behind, even though I had been measuring ahead my whole pregnancy until then.

So yes, the baby is low, but he's not fully engaged... hence the popping up and down he's been doing for me the past few days, which I find rather annoying.

We discussed a few more things:

-I finalized my decision to not do GBS testing.  I have many reasons for this.  I don't feel like getting into it, though.

-I confirmed that we will delay cord clamping and cutting until it stops pulsing... this is what my midwife does as a practice anyway, but I wanted to make sure since I wanted this with Noah and they completely ignored us and clamped and cut his cord while he was still hanging upside down and screaming... there's nothing like respect from your birthing team.

-I okay'd the Vitamin K injection for the baby.

-I nixed the erythromicin for the baby's eyes... Noah didn't have any either.  I don't have gonorrhea, so there is no point to it.

-I okay'd a shot of pitocin during pushing to prevent postpartum hemorrhage.


I got an internal done.  I am, in fact, 2 cm dilated.  The lower part of my cervix is at least 3cm, but it narrows a bit as it goes up.  My cervix lengthens and shortens according to how low the baby's head it, but she said it's very soft.  Basically, she confirmed everything I already knew.

She also did a stretch and sweep, at my request.  Holy Hannah, that friggin hurts.  I had her stop for a break halfway through.  The longer they do it the more effective it is, so I didn't want her to stop completely, but I definitely needed a 30 second break!

I had a bunch of bright red bleeding afterward, which is what you want from a stretch and sweep.  Otherwise you just got put through a bunch of pain for no reason.  I've been spotting ever since, which is also normal/what you want.  I'm now at 4 hours of contractions every 2 or 3 minutes.  Some are painful, some aren't too bad.  If I'm standing when I get them the back of my right leg goes kind of numb and tingly.  It's weird.  Oh, and my lower back is really crampy and painful.

This S&S most likely won't put me into labour, but hopefully it'll help with some early progression.  I have another midwife appointment on Tuesday.  This one is with my second midwife instead of my primary, so hopefully she'll do another stretch and sweep.  Christine seems to think that she will, because I actually want one.  I guess we'll just have to wait and see.  I don't see Christine again for 2 weeks, when I'm 39+1.  That seems so far away.

I'm quite happy to be 37 weeks and already have 2cm behind me in this journey to 10.  I'm interested to see where I'm at by my next appointment!