Thursday, September 13, 2012

Sweet Irish

Irish is now 5 weeks old and I am just now sitting down to write her birth story.  It's been a bit busy with Olive and Irish both doing their own thing and that own thing never seems to be the same thing unless its what time to eat.  Convenient.

As some of  you may know, the Baby Place is now New Beginnings Baby Place.  With the changes and a few other turn-offs, the closer it got to my due date the more nervous I was to have the baby.  Tren and I discussed it and we were going to have my mom there for the birth, to be the alert and sane person in the room.  I had no idea what Tren was going to do this time around, and I was going to be the one having the baby and who knows what could happen there!  So, she was on call and excited to see a water birth.

At one of my appointments, I was told I had to make it to 37 weeks in order to have Irish at the birth center.  I guess if I was in labor before 37 weeks, I went to the hospital?  I don't even know, actually.  37 weeks for me was Friday, August 10th.  I would have one week of work left after my 37 week mark.  That gave me 2 weeks to relax before the baby got here or to have the baby and not go into labor at work.  I was scared that was going to happen since I now work in Caldwell and not 30 seconds away in Meridian.  I was supposed to have an appointment on Tuesday the 7th, but it was cancelled because a mother was in labor and they cancelled all appointments for the rest of the day.  So I rescheduled for the next Monday.

Thursday, the 9th of August, I took Olive in for her 1 year check-up and shots.  That evening Olive broke out in a fever and this fever continued on through the night and actually on to Sunday night.  I decided to stay home from work on Friday to be with her.  We didn't do anything but sit around and snuggle and take doses of Tylenol to try and keep the fever down.  She was miserable.  I felt so bad for her.  Friday night, Tren was giving Olive her bath and I went to take a shower.  It was then that I discovered something.  My belly button was now poking in instead of out.  After the major signs I had and ignored when I was pregnant with Olive, I swore I wasn't going to miss one with Irish.  I went to Tren and asked if he thought it looked different and he confirmed it was now in.  Thank goodness I took a shower, because I probably wouldn't have noticed this otherwise.  I called my mom and told her the news ...  "my belly button looks different, you're on call!"  I'm sure she just brushed this off as sillyness.  After that, I told Belle to get herself an overnight bag ready to go and I got Olive's ready too.  I had already packed for myself and Irish earlier in the week.  I almost texted Becky Brown to tell her to be on call too, but I decided not to.

We got the girls tucked in bed and around 10:30, I went to bed.  Tren stayed up watching TV until about midnight.  Around 12:40am, I felt a little wetness in my drawers and laid stiff as a board thinking "ohhhh crap! please no!"  After a few seconds, I slowly got out of bed and went to the bathroom.  I sat on the toilet trying not to cry and or panic.  I peed.  Nothing else kept on coming out, like it had when my water broke with Olive.  So, I stood up and still, nothing.  So I stood there for a minute.  Looked at my pregnant self in the mirror for a minute thinking how it couldn't be happening already.  Lordy.  Then after no more fluids came out, I went back to bed.  I laid there for a minute waiting for the contractions and nothing.  But I just knew this was it. So, I announced to Tren that I "thought" my water had just broke.  It wasnt the "pop!" like last time, so I wasn't positive. We talked about if we should call someone because I wasn't totally sure and then in the heat of the moment I decided I didn't want mom there for the birth I wanted her to stay home with sick Olive and take care of her.  We kept talking and I just laid there and then the flood gates were lifted and I said "oh crappp!  It really did!!" Tren popped right up and called the Baby Place, excuse me, New Beginnings Baby Place, and I called my mom.  Dad answered and I said "my water just broke" and he said "your water just broke?" and I said yes and then he said to Mom "Emmy's water just broke" and handed her the phone.  I told her we had decided we would go alone and that I'd rather she stayed at the house with the girls since Olive wasnt feeling good.  So, they said they'd be on the way.  Then I started crying.  I was feeling so sad for my baby Olive and was feeling bad leaving her in the middle of the night when she was so miserable.  After this panic, Tren decided to call Becky and see if she could come over and she was right over.  I was under control and ready to go when my parents arrived.  By then, Tren had convinced me that he wanted my mom to go with us still and Becky could just stay at the house until the girls woke up and then take them to her house.  So, Dad and Mom hopped in their car and Tren and I hopped in ours and we were off.  We didnt quite make it in 12 minutes like last time, which was fine.  I was feeling anxious and didnt want to get there and face what was to come. 

The doors to the birth center were locked when we got there.  After knocking and a contraction or two, Rachel answered and we went in.  Dad stayed in the waiting area and Tren, Mom and I went to the back bedroom.  Rachel was the only one there.  I stood at the bed and Rachel said I could lay down if I wanted to.  I wanted that tub filling.  I told her I wasnt going to do it in the bed and I wanted the tub to fill up.  She turned the water on and started bringing over the birth stool and the birth ball (or whatever it is called) and I just stood there leaking all over the floor not wanting anything to do with those things and wanting the tub to fill quick.  Mom told me to tell her I didnt want any of the things she was bringing out so I did and she put them away.  I asked Rachel to check me to see how close I was to go time and she did and said I was ready to push whenever I wanted to.  "whenever" I wanted to... which was not any time soon!  I laid on the bed and breathed through the contractions because I was not having Irish on that bed,... all exposed and out there and uncomfortable.  Finally the tub was filled enough so I could get in.  I got in and she said again I could push if I wanted to.  Well, I didnt want to, so I didnt. Tren took his spot behind me outside the tub.  The tub was completely filled so again I could push if I 'wanted' to.  No thanks.  I did give a few pushes and all the pain and memories came flying back from just a year ago and I really didn't want to push.  At all.  I shook my head...  I said "I don't want to do this"... "I can't do this"...  over and over.  Soon Sarah arrived and I asked if they needed to check Irish's heartbeat.  Sarah did this and Irish was calm and peaceful.  I gave a few good pushes, but I was getting cramps in my hips during my contractions and pushing and that made me stop pushing early and waste the contractions.  After what seemed like forever to me, probably because half the time I was just sitting there soaking and saying "I dont want to do this", Mom told me, in only the way your mother can, to Push.  I didn't want to because it hurt so bad, but because she told me to I did. (how weird is it that my mother can still have this control over me?)  She helped me push and breathe and then push and breathe.  Rachel and Sarah both told me good good good.  Tren was there pushing with me. :)  Irish was getting close and Rachel told me to give a really big push and then breathe and then she would coax me how to keep pushing with my next contraction.  So, I gave a really big push and holy mother! I think I pushed harder than she'd expected because Irish's head popped out and it hurt so bad and I reacted to the pain and tried to get away from it and without thinking started standing up or backing away.  That was the worst feeling.ever.  I sat back down in shock and she said to push again and get her out all the way.  My body was confused, and I couldnt focus to push.  Rachel pretty much twisted Irish and pulled her out.  I swear I felt every little bone in her body as it came out.  But there was my little sweet, big lipped baby.  Irish had humongous lips!  They were bright red too.  This was funny.  She seemed so little and had long arms and huge hands and even bigger feet.  But those lips!  They were killing me.

Irish Walker Sundquist
August 11, 2012 2:26am
6lbs 8oz 20inches

Something funny...  When Sarah was measuring and weighing Irish... the first time she measured her, she got 20 inches.  Irish looked longer than that.  So she decided to do it again and asked Tren for his help.  She had Tren hold the measuring tape and the top of Irish's head.  She held the end where the measurement was read.  She got 20.5 inches this time.  After she left, Tren admitted that he was afraid he was going to push too hard on Irish's head, so the tape slipped a little.  At the pediatrician's office, 2 days after Irish was born, their measurement was 19 and 3/8" long.  She shrunk. So, her real length is unknown.

Blogspot has changed things since I blogged last and I don't know how to add pictures.  Annoying.  So, I'll try and figure this out and attach some when I get the chance.

Thursday, April 19, 2012

Irish Twins

Irish Twins:  The term is used to describe two children born to the same mother in the same calendar year or within twelve months of each other.

Yes, Tren and I are about to have us a set of Irish Twins.

When Tren was home over the Spring Break week, which was close to 3 weeks ago, I was minding my business at work and suddenly felt sick.  Like, get the heck home before you throw up, sick.  So I hauled home and Tren greets me with "did  you take a test?"  And I asked, "What test?" and he said "a pregnancy test?" and I said "No!" and I wasn't taking one because there was NO way I was pregnant.  I slept the entire afternoon.  A couple days later as I was baking in the tanning bed, I was thinking about the comment from Tren and decided it sort of bothered me.  I laid there cooking and rubbed my hands over my stomach and then what the heck is this?!  I feel a little ball in my stomach and think there is no way that is what I think it is. So, I decided to take a bloody test and prove Tren wrong.  Friday morning I got up and peed on my stick and tucked it back in the wrapper.  Tren got up to go pee and I told him I took his stupid test and hadn't looked at it yet.  He pulled it out of the wrapper and said "uhhhhhh, .... what does this mean?" and I looked and there on that little white stick were 2 pink lines. Seriously?  I couldn't believe it.  Tons of things raced through my head.  Olive is too little to be a BIG SISTER!  Olive is too little to have another baby already.  When am I due? I have had no signs or "symptoms" of being pregnant.  Where are the sore boobs and the complete exhaustion?  I do not want to do this with Tren working away from home! I cannot be pregnant. No way!!

I took another test a couple days later to confirm and it was an even brighter 2 pink lines.  I called The Baby Place and scheduled my first appointment for when Tren would be back in town again.  I told them I had no idea when I conceived and that if what I had when I quit nursing was even a period, it was over the Thanksgiving week, which was a LONG time ago.

I went the next 2 weeks thinking over things and finally started seeing the signs.  I had had heart burn.  My jumblees had gotten bigger, not sore, but bigger.  I was getting fat and regardless of what I ate, I kept getting bigger.  I could no longer suck in the pooch I swore was from not eating right and no exercise.  I had been getting the sharp pains that happen when your uterus stretches and chalked them up to being a side ache or something.  One morning on my way to work I swear I felt a baby flutter, but there was just NO WAY I was that far along to be feeling a baby move.  Just tonight I thought of another one:  a couple months ago, Olive started burying her face in my boobs and inhaling them.  The signs were there, but I still  had no idea when this could have happened.  And I knew there was no way I was as far along as November would put me.

I started feeling like people were noticing and wondering.  And now around work when I tell them the truth they also tell the truth that they were wondering because of my weight gain.

Monday before we flew out to Las Vegas, we had our first midwife appointment.  They drew blood and asked questions and told me if they based my due date off my last period (November) that would put me at 21 weeks and a couple days.  I said there was no way.  They asked if I wanted an ultrasound to confirm due date and I said "absolutely!".  So I got up on the bed and pulled my shirt up and Rachel said "oh wow!  look at that belly". WTH does that mean?!  Jerusha came in and as soon as she put the ultrasound stick on my stomach, instantly there are legs and arms and ribs and a big old pot belly baby on the screen.  Where in the heck is the kidney bean?!  They were both saying how that was a nice baby and then Jerusha announced "based off the measurements you are 20 weeks, 3 days.  Due August 31st".  Then I started the "oh my gosh.... shut up.... oh my heck...." over and over.  I believe I cried a little.  This is too soon.  Olive will barely be 1 freaking year old!  Then she asks if we want to know the sex.  Of course we do!  Right!?  It's a GIRL!!! This is seriously sending me over the edge and I am definitely crying now.  Tren has backed away from the bed and is rubbing his head and in just as much shock as I am.  I have an anterior placenta which means the placenta is on the front of the uterus, so it is kind of muffling the feeling of the baby moving - thus making her movements a little harder to detect. They told me she was a nice healthy little baby girl.  They listened to her heart and everything was measuring up nicely.  A 20 week - 3 day baby.   That has been quietly keeping to her sweet little self all this time.

I sort of feel bad that I didn't see the signs and haven't been thinking about her constantly like you do when find out your pregnant.  Then all the waiting to find out if it is a girl or boy and then all the waiting to finally have the baby.  I am over half way.  I have skipped all the anticipation and wondering and now I wait for her sweet little arrival.  Someone told me this little miss is coming to me now for a reason and I firmly believe that.  I am not sure of her reason, but I know this was supposed to happen.  There was a reason she was supposed to simply grow and not make me sick or tired or uncomfortable or crazy.  I cannot wait for her to get here and for my Irish Twins to grow up and be the best of friends and probably worst enemies at times too.

3 blonde haired - blue eyed girls.  How lucky can Tren and I possibly get?!