Bobby's Birth Story

Well, Sunday night I was having my typical irregular contractions, but they had me in a pretty irritated mood.  Brian and I took the kids to a Chuck E. Cheese birthday party that evening and I was just miserable.  I just knew though that these would die down just like they always do.  So I went to bed early thinking I needed more sleep since I was cranky.

I felt contractions on and off throughout the night, but not regular or that many.  Brian got up at 3am and drove back to Richmond, VA for the week.  He got there around 5:30am and texted me at 7:30am when I was awake that he was safe.  I was having contractions, but I hadn't bothered to time them since they are NEVER regular.  I texted him to "Have a nice day."  The thought crossed my mind that I should time them for a bit just in case.

Hmm.  What do ya know?  They were exactly 5 minutes apart.  I got up with the boys and started making breakfast.  They were still 5 minutes apart and getting where I wanted to sit down during them.  My mom came up and we decided I'd call Brian and call my ride to the hospital as well, my friend Ann, to put her on notice that I may need a ride soon.  My mom made the decision not too much longer to call Ann and tell her she was taking me to the hospital now.

Turns out it was good she did, because I was way underestimating my progress.  We left the house at 10am and I was feeling nauseated on the drive.  The contractions got a little harder and were 4 minutes apart.  I made the decision that I could be dropped off and wait for her in the skyway while she parked.  Brian called and gave me a pep talk so I wouldn't get an epidural.  Really it always sounds tempting, but since I know I can do it without, I'm not in love with needles, and there's always the potential for something else to go wrong when you put something in your spine I just cant bring myself to do it.

After Ann parked and met me with my stuff, we started to walk.  A man offered me a wheel chair and I declined thinking walking was good for me and moving the labor along.  However, I didn't make it far before I had a contraction and needed to lean over.  A man just brought me a wheel chair, so I took it.

When we arrived at the Labor and Delivery unit, they asked me if I was the one who called.  Oops!  That's Brian's job.  It had crossed my mind, but I forgot to actually do it.  The nurse asked if this was my first, and when I said, "My sixth" and my contractions were now 4 minutes apart they seemed to suddenly hurry me into triage and checked me right away.  8 centimeters!!!  Seriously?  I had guessed 6 or 7, but wow!  Brian was still about an hour and a half away.  I didn't think I'd make it that long.

They moved me to a room that was totally set up for delivery.  The bed was much more comfortable than the triage bed, the car, or the couch I was sitting on at home.  The contractions got harder and lower fast.  The midwife and nurses were asking me a lot of questions.  Some I could answer, like, "Do you want to hold him first when he is born?"  Some I could not answer because of my indecisiveness during labor.  I can't even remember what those questions were, but I know I was having Ann decide things for me.  That is usually Brian's job.  Everything went very fast and I only remember one guy (a doctor maybe?) telling me he might use internal monitoring or forceps, but only if they had to do so.  I remember him because he kept touching the bed when he talked.  All the while I was having painful contractions, and I do not like to be jostled about when I am trying to relax.

Next thing I know I said, "I'm feeling pushy."

"Do you want to be checked?"

"Do I have to be?" I asked.

"No."

"Then no, but can I push when I want?"

"Not until we check you."

So you know how that went down.  They checked me, and I was complete and ready to push.  Then came the doubt and indecision again.  I felt like I needed to push, but Brian wasn't quite there and I wanted him there.  I asked them to tell me when to push because I couldn't quite make that plunge on my own.  The midwife kept saying I would know when to push, but I just needed someone to tell me when to push.  Ann did that for me.  And I always have trouble making myself hold my legs and Ann did that for me too.

Let me pause the story to say, I totally thought she was just giving me a ride to the hospital.  That's all I asked of her, but she said I shouldn't be alone and she would stay until Brian got there.  How could I argue with such a loving offer?  And why would I want to?  Transition is a scary time with no one to support you, and that's just what she did.  I remember her repeatedly telling me how good I was doing.  She did just what I needed her to do and (Bless her heart!) got more than she may have bargained for since Brian still wasn't there when it came time to hold my legs and push.

Back to the story.  I pushed, and even managed to help with my legs, and my water finally broke.  I pushed, and his head came out.  I pushed again, and he was here!  He was here!  Bobby was on my chest and so perfect and beautiful.  Sweet relief for me.

There are two quotes from the book I am reading, Perpetua, based on a true story about St. Perpetua that I read this week after Bobby was born that really resonated with me and related to all my deliveries.  This book is amazing and it will not be the last quote on this blog from it, I promise.

"Paulus (her baby's name,) I am surprised to say, became for some moments not a son, but an unbearable object on which all my energy was spent to expel."

"The instant Paulus became separated from my body, he became a son again.  The son."

That so sums up how the delivery feels for me.  I have always felt badly about the first part, but hearing it put that way from another's point of view makes me feel more normal.

Brian arrived about 15 minutes too late to see the look on my face that he always loves so much when the "object" to expel becomes "the son".  He handled it well though.  Ann had even cut the cord for him.

People since the moment he was born keep asking about how I feel and if I'm in pain starting with the nurses.  After that, you feel no pain.  No ache can come close.  No pain seems to matter any more.  Plus I feel so much lighter!  I have a beautiful healthy baby and I feel great.  Tired, but great.

D + 2 = Surprise Birth!

Robert "Bobby" Cecil Smith was born on Monday, July 20th, 2015, at 11:49am.  He surprised us all by being 10 lbs 6 oz and 22.5 inches long at only two days past my due date.  Plus, he made his entry into the world rather quickly and without me having to be induced which was double the surprise since I've been induced or had to have my water broken with all but Genevieve and him.

He was and is a healthy big guy that the nursing staff nicknamed "the toddler" on the postpartum floor.

He did not have as much dark hair as I thought he was going to have based on my indigestion during the pregnancy, but he does have two dimples in his cheeks and a cleft in his chin.  My predictions were a bit off here, but what's new?

 Since this labor came on out of no where on a Monday morning, Brian had just gotten back to his job in Richmond, VA for the week so he had to turn back around and make the ~2.5 hour drive back when my contractions started up and were actually consistent and close.  There will be a full birth story coming up, but (spoiler alert!) Brian did not make it in time to see our Bobby's grand entrance into the world.  Luckily, I've done this before a few times and had a dedicated friend there to support me through my transition craziness.

His first night (in the hospital) was a rough one for me, but he had a tough day so I'll forgive him for that.  Additionally, he's super cute and soft, and who can blame this guy for anything?

D + 1 = Uncomfortable Mama

I know I always forget the discomforts of pregnancy, but I would venture to say that this has been the most uncomfortable pregnancy for me probably because I am older.  I went shopping on my due date with my mom and daughters and my belly just aches when I am up and walking.  I haven't been doing my regular walking to get labor started because it just hurts too much and I have to stop to go to the bathroom every 15 minutes.  I've walked my heart out during the last few weeks of carrying the baby with all my pregnancies except for Genna and she was the only one who came early so I was going with this strategy this time.  So far  it's not working for me though.

I could not even tell you how many times I had to answer, "Today," to the question, "When are you due?" from strangers yesterday.  I received a variety of comments while shopping that ranged from the standard, "You look like you're about to pop," or "Any day now, huh?" to "There's only one baby in there??!!!"  My personal favorite was when a lady told me my baby was "at least 10 or 11 lbs."  To that, I said, "Oh dear, I hope not 11 lbs!  That would be a new record for me."

I am ready for this little guy to make his appearance on the one hand because I am anxious to hold him and meet him face to face and am super uncomfortable.  I'm ready to be able to easily get up and down out of chairs and beds.  I'm ready not to be so out of breath all the time and not to have to wear these compression stockings any more.  I'm looking forward to wearing some of my regular clothes again sometime soonish.  However, I am not ever really ready to face the labor and delivery or to go to the hospital.  I don't like hospitals and this one I am very familiar with the L&D floor since this will be my third time delivering there.  I always try to convince myself that the hospital is this hotel that I am vacationing at where I don't have to cook and clean and be the "mom of many" 24 hours a day.  Somehow the nursing staff have yet to meet my expectations with all the needles missing the biggest veins they will ever see in their career, breaking my water, and hooking me up to machines despite their repeated offer to bring me ice chips or call the anesthesiologist.

Brian says I am like a paratrooper who is afraid to jump out of airplanes.  When it comes time for the babies to come out, no matter how many times I have done it before I get totally scared.  I resist and drag my heels the whole way, but when labor actually starts I just do what I need to do.  Suddenly I remember why this is what I was made to do.  The rush of holding my beautiful baby makes all the pain and fear I just went through immediately disappear.  That's Brian's favorite moment, seeing my pain turn instantly into awe-filled joy when they hand me my baby.  I love that moment too, and that's what I am trying to focus on each time fear creeps into my mind and heart.

In other news... Friday Isaac finished pre-team with his mini swim meet.  He is such a stronger swimmer than he was at the beginning of the summer.  I was very proud of him and how hard he pushed himself during the races.

Judah is not understanding the dethroning we are trying to prepare him for by getting out all the baby stuff.  He keeps insisting that he is still a baby and needs to be in the bassinet and infant car seat.  I keep telling him he is too big, but...

"See! I told you, Mom, I fit in here!"

Bobby's quilt embroidery is almost finished and so I just might get the whole blanket put together and completed by the time he gets here.  I don't have a doctor's appointment until Wednesday afternoon, and I just doubt anything serious happens before that.  There's always that possibility that I'll be crazy dilated and they won't let me leave the hospital from my appointment, but since Brian will not be in town during the week, I am going to try to talk them out of that so he has time to get here for a scheduled breaking of my water on Friday.  That's my plan, but you know how well the best laid plans tend to go.  So I will keep on updating daily if I am able to just in case my plans go awry. 

39 weeks and 2 days

I had a doctor's appointment today to find out that I am 3cms, like I have been at this point in the last four pregnancies as well.   This always sounds "promising" to the doctors, but no baby boy Smith has ever come willingly into this world and so my water usually still has to be broken to start actual full blown labor.  They stripped my membranes to help get contractions started, but I've been there before too.  I am fully expecting to have this baby a week late when I go in for a non-stress test and find out I am 5 cms and (they won't let me leave the hospital at this point) they break my water.

I seem to be in early labor for about three weeks or more for the last three pregancies.  On Saturday night I started having some really painful contractions every 3-7 minutes, with an occasional 10 minute break.  This lasted from about 9:30pm until 2am, and then they were spreading way out.  I figured they would die out, because the times that I have been in actual labor they do not jump around in the length between them.  They get gradually closer.  This will continue to happen some nights for the next week or two I would imagine.

While I am making predictions, I would like to predict what this baby will look like just for fun.  I think Bobby is going to have a full head of dark hair and have a dimple on his cheek or his chin.  I suspect he might have the darker complexion that Hannah had as a baby too.  It'll be fun to see if I am right.

This is Hannah at just a week old.  She was my tiniest!

 On Sunday, I decided I better get a picture of myself pregnant with this guy since I don't have too many pictures from this pregnancy.  The kids were dressed so cute for Mass that I decided to bite the bullet.

I know I'm big because the phrase "ready to pop" keeps flying out of everyone's mouths and because, well... I am big.

Genevieve has always had this secret way to talk to the babies in my tummies.  She's doing her Morse code on my belly in this picture.

 We got great pictures of just the kids too, but I'll save those for another post.  I love the girls new dresses.  They are from Land's End and supposed to be for our family beach pictures in August.  Hannah hates her dress, but she didn't complain the whole time she wore in on Sunday morning.  What a wonderful and difficult sacrifice for her!

To show just how unconvinced I am that this baby will come soon and without severe coercion, I have not even packed for the hospital or finished setting up my room for his arrival at home.  I just haven't been in the mood and we all know that nesting urge has to come before the baby does.

I don't think you're ready for this yet.

It's another boy!  

If you've lost count, that is two girls and four boys to make our fabulous eight.  I promised I'd reveal the name today as well.  If he had been a girl it would have been Josephine Cecilia, but he's a boy.  So it is going to be Robert Cecil.  We plan to call him Bob or Bobby from the get go.  It is a good fit for Brian and I because it is an ordinary name which Brian likes, but an unusual name in my generation and the next generation which I like.  The thing I always disliked about my own name was not the name itself, but the commonality of it.  I was always one of at least three Kelle's (granted, it was never spelled that way) in any group or school I ever went to.  I had to have something extra tacked onto my name to distinguish me from all the other Kelle's.

Back to Robert Cecil, Robert is after St, Robert Bellermine who played a major role in the Counter-Reformation.  If you don't know about him or the Counter-Reformation, you should read about it.  Beware though, it might turn you Catholic if you're not already.  ;)  Just kidding!

Cecil is after my dear grandfather who was an architect and died when I was in 6th grade.  His name was Cecil Miller and he went by C.M. I am told because he didn't like his own name.  So, all these boys and I have been hesitant to use his name because of that.  I love the name, but it doesn't sound super awesome with Smith after it, so I was not going to use it as a first name for that reason.  But this time I was determined to include it no matter the gender of my baby.  (Cecilia for a girl though.)  I have so many wonderful memories of my grandfather sitting patiently with me at his dining room table teaching me to draw dog houses and train tracks using perspective.  He had a huge influence on me that I will never forget, and I am so glad to be able to use his name for my son.

The snow almost foiled my ultrasound appointment, but thankfully it was at 11am and all appointments after 10am were kept.   The kids stayed with our friends and neighbors and all their kids since it was a snow day for the public schools today.  My girls made it clear that I was to bring home something pink or blue to reveal the gender like I did the last two times.  I stopped int he hospital gift shop and picked up rubber bracelets for them.  The girls' bracelets said, "It's a boy!" and the boys' bracelets said, "I'm a big brother!"  They were all blue!  When I pulled them out of my pocket, Hannah almost cried (and would have had we been at home and not in front of her friends.  The girls were disappointed to say the least.  They've been praying hard for a girl.  Genna said she was working on getting over it.  Hannah's still moping.  The boys didn't mind, but it's going to be a full room if ever they all have to share.  As for Brian and I, we were hoping for a girl, but really who can complain about any healthy bundle of joy?  I am so very blessed to have so many to love.  Having lots of kids is good for the heart.  It just keeps getting bigger.  I wouldn't change a thing.

Our Gummy Bear

Gummy bear, A.K.A. my unborn child, started kicking on my birthday, February 3rd.  He or she has been moving ever since.  My ultrasound is scheduled for next Thursday.  Keep an eye out for the big gender reveal.  Everyone would prefer a girl, except for Drew who decided it would be awesome to have three brothers share his room.

However, Brian and I are better prepared this time and have a name ready for either a boy or a girl.  Shocker, I know!  We stumbled upon the boy name since my husband really likes to put off the whole name talk.  I enjoy it, as do most normal people.  :)  No, I'm no going to post what those names are just yet.  Let's wait until next week and I'll tell both names.

A girl would be a nice change of pace around here.  I'd get to dress someone up again since my girls are long past letting me do it willingly.  A boy though would slide right in with little preparation needed.  We have tons a boy clothes, whereas I got rid of a lot of the girl stuff and only kept my favorites.  The noise and the dirt may just overwhelm me though.  :)

Anyway, prayers for next Thursday are much appreciated because a healthy baby of any gender is what we truly desire!

Our Best Christmas Gift

We announced through our Christmas card this year that we are expecting another baby!

We found out a little before Thanksgiving and had told a few people already, but I like to hold off a bit on massive announcements of my pregnancy.  I had an early ultrasound this time because I wasn't sure how far along I was since I was still nursing.  Turns out I was only 7 1/2 weeks when I had my first ultrasound according to their measurements.  As I write this post, I am 11 1/2 weeks which is so wonderful because I can see the light at the end of the tunnel of nausea.  The nausea has been worse this pregnancy and I have really struggled with making it through the afternoon and evening some days.  Cooking is very hard when you are exhausted and nauseated.  Most mornings have been tolerable though which has helped me get school work finished with the children.

The baby has been nicknamed Gummy Bear by the children, and he/she is due on July 18th.  Gummy Bear threw a wrench in some of our summer plans, but that's what happens when you make plans around this house...you end up pregnant and due in the middle of them.  That'll teach me to live in the moment if anything will.  Considering Brian's career choice and the timing of our last couple pregnancies, God must really want the message of living day to day by faith drilled into my heart.  I am grateful for such an easy lesson.  For what can be better than a lesson through a newborn bundle of sweetness?  I'll take that with open arms!

I  had one more ultrasound since then at 10 weeks and everything is going well.  They tested me for diabetes (not gestational, but the real deal) again due to my family history and giant babies, but I passed.  Here's a picture of our growing Gummy Bear.