New words and funnies

The other day, Jackson asked to watch a movie on the computer. He likes to sit as close to the screen as possible, often perching on his feet to get just the right vantage point. After watching Wall-E in this perched position for nearly the duration of the movie, he came to find me because he needed some assistance. He said, "Hey, Mom. Can you help me? My foot has pickeries in it."

Last night, I asked Jackson if he would put the dog outside for a potty break, but he didn't respond right away. After a few moments passed in silence, I said, "Jackson, are you going to put the dog out, or not, Son?" He replied thoughtfully, "Ummmmmm, or not."

Lately, when you ask Cooper where something is, he always, ALWAYS replies, "Uhhhh, gurner." At first, we tried to make an English word out of that, but finding none (and, no, it's not "corner") we just go with it now. Our conversations often go something like this--
Me: "Cooper, where's your paci?"
C: "Uhhhh, gurner."
Me: "Is that right? Let's go see."
Then we proceed to walk hand-in-hand around the house until we find what we're looking for. Apparently, "gurner" is the space immediately surrounding the desired object and therefore does not have a fixed location.

Cooper has a silky blue blanket ("bankie") and a lovey dog ("doggie") that are a necessity when he sleeps, and he usually likes to have them nearby when he's awake too. These blankies have become as one (kinda like a marriage), and so when he asks for (demands) them, he uses one term, said fussily at first--"bankiedoggie," then with increasing fervor until he gets results. He wants them when he wants them, and no explanation for why they might not be available will do. This has been a problem when said bankiedoggies must be taken away to be washed or most recently when one of his bigger blankets (also referred to as a "bankiedoggie") is on loan to his sister for the day :).

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No nerve endings

Yesterday morning after I dropped Jackson at school, I treated myself to the last of the batch of orange danish rolls I'd made the day before. Not wanting to let proper decorum limit my experience to anything less than the fullest, I even licked the residual frosting off the lid to the pan.

I returned to the living room and sat in the big recliner to watch a bit of the morning news before Coopeer realized the yucky big people show and asked for all things Noggin. I thought I picked up a whiff of the orange danish-y goodness and figured that Chris had made a bit of a mess of his own breakfast there. Searching for the source of the smell but not finding it, I shrugged it off and went about my day.

I continued to notice a faint sweet, orangy smell every now and then, in different rooms in the house, but chalked it up to being able to smell the empty pan in the kitchen on account of my spidey-smell sense from the remaining pregnancy hormones.

A couple of hours after breakfast, I finally had a break in my schedule (seriously, how many diapers are we going through these days, with all 3 still in them? I don't even WANT to know) and went to the bathroom for the first time. As I was washing my hands, I glanced up at the mirror and thought I saw something strange on my face. Upon closer inspection, I saw a rather large swath of orange icing, now dried and crusty, at the end of my nose.

Hm. I guess that would explain the smell being present no matter the room I was in. Probably the most disturbing thing is that I didn't even feel it AT ALL.

Oh well, at least I found it before I went to pick Jackson up.

♦

One week and other things

Ella is one week old today. I can hardly believe it. Something about having a newborn is bittersweet to me; it's like she's a constant reminder of how quickly time passes and how much is already just a memory (holding her for the first time, the way she smelled after her first bath, the boys' first interactions with her). Makes me want to slow everything down and relish in these moments. Nevermind that I'm also thinking thoughts such as, "This is the last time I'll. . ." because I think we're "done."

There's such vulnerability, such honesty, such sweetness in everything Ella does. And the vulnerability especially makes me feel like wrapping her back up into myself and protecting her from this scary world. It doesn't help that we found out at her first doctor's appointment that she has two broken collar bones either; talk about heart-breaking! She doesn't seem too worse for wear over it, fortunately, nor do they seem to cause her much pain. It does however make nursing her a bit interesting. The newborn bring-my-hands-up-to-my-mouth-repeatedly-while-I'm-eating thing is harder to defend against when you can't pin her arms tightly into her blankets. But we manage just fine there too.

I wish I had words like my friend Amber to describe what happens in my heart each time Ella looks at me with those cross-eyes that little babies get when they try to focus, or when she yawns with abandon, or how she's immediately calmed when I pick her up, or that little bird mouth she makes as she realizes it's mealtime, and so many other little things. I guess, simply put (and I've said this before), I am in deep baby love, and it grows deeper all the time. I realize I'm being incredibly sappy, but I can hardly help it; blame it on the hormones or the sleeplessness or the pain-medicine haze if you must, but you mommas out there know what it's like.

Not that I want to jinx myself, but Ella has been quite a good sleeper once we got past the first couple of nights at home. I know that everything changes so quickly with new babies, and just when you think you've got their routine figured out they switch it up on you. But right now, she's going to bed between eleven or midnight or so, sleeping until about 4am and staying up for an hour or two to "cluster feed" before falling back asleep 'til 9 or later. I even think I'd be sufficiently rested if she were my only child or if the boys were able to sleep in. She also sleeps well throughout the day too. Oh, I've done it now. Surely, this sleep marathon will come to an end after such boasting :).

I'm really having fun dressing her each day in all these cute, girly outfits we've acquired so far. Being a tomboy myself, I didn't think I would get into this too much, but it's like I have my own, real-life doll! I've taken a ton of pictures, and all the while my guilt grows as I think about the paltry number of photos I took of Cooper's baby-ness. Not that I don't know what it's like to be a middle child. . . :)

I took Jackson to school today--my first major outing with everybody. It was strange to have three kids with me in the van, especially three of MY kids. But it was nice too, like our family is complete now. Ella certainly brings some much needed softness into the mix of my punchy, kicky boys.

I'm loving life right now, that's for sure. For as much as I thought I'd be stressed out and overwhelmed by taking care of three, I'm really just chillin' most of the time (again after the first couple of days back home as an adjustment period). Certainly, the most challenging thing that I'm dealing with right now is the increased feuding between Jackson and Cooper. I know it's no coincidence that it's been happening more since Ellie's come home. It's hard for me to know just how to address it, and I totally understand why we used to be told as kids to work it out on our own. It's just so exhausting to police them every two minutes all day long. And Cooper is usually the aggressor, if not the instigator, which is difficult to deal with because he's still not showing much comprehension when I attempt to correct him. I'm also trying to make sure that each of them have some one-on-one time with me at some point in the day because I gotta believe that much of their warring is thinly-veiled attention seeking behavior. I think it's paying off too; during our time together this evening, Jackson told me, "You're a good momma, not a stupid momma." Thanks, son, I think. :)

Oh, I wanted to share a non-kid picture I took a few days ago. This is a bud vase (did I get that right, Dad?) that my parents gave me when we brought Ella home. The sun was shining down on it just so, and I thought it was lovely.

♦

For Ella

(a note to my readers: I tried to keep this post free from TMI, but there were times where it was necessary to tell the story. So, feel free to skim over the parts that you don't want to read about. This is primarily an exercise for posterity anyway, so I won't be offended. I should also mention that I only just finished this on Tuesday, after starting it on Saturday. It's a little hard to find free time right now, especially when sleep seems so appealing, so I had to work on it in snippets.)

I am so glad to finally meet you, dear daughter of mine. You are a precious gift from God, and I am overflowing with joy at your arrival. As you sleep soundly in my arms (content to sleep nowhere else thus far) a little over 48 hours later, I am sitting down at the computer to write out the details of your birth day while they are still fresh in my mind.

Your daddy and I woke up later than we should have on Thursday morning, January 15th, after a restless night. The house was eerily quiet, with your brothers already gone to the grandparents the night before. We were quick to get ready, our excitement driving the pace. After showering, dressing, and eating, we threw some last minute items into our bags and headed to the car.

It was co-o-o-old and snowing outside, which is how I had always imagined the day of your birth in my head for some reason. After battling with the stubborn garage door for several minutes, we were on our way. The roads around our house were not bad, but we did hit a few slick spots as we headed north to Mercy Medical Center in Rogers.

Your daddy dropped me off at the front door of the hospital and went to park the car.
Since it was no-man's-land in the lobby, I walked to the labor and delivery floor on my own power. I didn't mind that too much since I was not regularly contracting anyway and was antsy to get things going--especially since we were, say it with me now, running late (shocking, I know).

I got to the floor just before 6:30 and told the staff that I was scheduled for induction. I was shown to room 533. The gal asked me to put on a hospital gown and told me that someone would be with me soon. I made quick work of changing and then began to scuttle around the room, organizing my things and getting everything just so. As there was still no sign of your dad by this point, I ventured out into the hallway to find him. I was just in time to see him come from the elevators and turn the wrong way down the hall without hesitation. He didn't see me, nor did he hear the several initial attempts I made to get his attention. I was given some scolding looks from some of the nursing staff, but I only grinned sheepishly and continued to stage whisper his name until he heard me and turned around.

We got back to our room, and I settled myself in bed. Soon the nurses (Brittany and one other whose name I didn't catch) were in to get signatures, ask medical history questions, and start my IV. By 7am, the pitocin was going, and you were officially on your way. Dr. Pickhardt came to see me around the same time. After asking me to remind him what I was the last time I'd been checked (2+ cm, 50% effaced more than 10 days previously), he checked me and determined that I was 3cm. and 60% effaced. I said a little "yay" and put my arms up in the air, and we had a good laugh about that. I had just finished saying how I'd stalled at 2 with all of my pregnancies, only progressing beyond that because of real labor. So all my false contractions during the last couple of weeks had done some work after all.

It wasn't long after the doctor had been in that the contractions began to come at regular intervals and shortly after that they began to be painful. I remember thinking, "Oh yeah, this is what 'real' contractions feel like." You just don't know until you know, I guess.

Having learned my lesson the hard way about how NOT to ask for pain relief when I was in labor with Cooper (ask once sheepishly, almost apologetic, way too understanding about how it was the middle of the night and someone would have to be called in, etc. etc. Nevermind that that's why they get paid the big bucks. . . but I digress), I knew I would be more assertive this time around. After I began hurting, I asked my nurse (Mary, from Ireland, who had been a nurse for over 25 years) about when I would be able to get an epidural the very next time she was in the room. She was a bit hesitant since I was only at a 3 and mentioned that someone would have to be called in (to which I didn't even bat an eye, whereas before I would have back-peddled and said I could wait). She asked me how quickly I progress once my labor begins, and I truthfully answered that I tend to go quickly, so she made a joke about "stretching the truth" and went to call anesthesia. She came back to report that he was on his way and that he thought it might take him 30 minutes to get there. I thanked her and went about the task of preparing myself to make it through the next half hour of contractions and beyond.

True to his estimate, the nurse anesthetist arrived half an hour later at 9am. His first name, which is all I caught, was Monti, and he was very personable. He chatted small talk with me, your daddy, and the nurse as he got set up to do the procedure. When he was ready and upon his direction, I moved to the edge of the bed, sitting with my feet dangling off the side. Assisted by the nurse, I leaned forward with my chin to my chest and curved my back into the best "C" shape that I could, crunching down on my still-contracting & very large belly. He began to make his markings, while I tried to remain calm and not think too much about what was coming next. Yuck, I don't like anything about the actual process of getting an epidural but the long-term benefits greatly outweigh the short-term discomfort so I manage.

By 9:30, the epidural was in and began to numb the bottoms of my feet right away. Once I realized that it was indeed working I relaxed considerably, since much of my anxiety was directed at the contractions before the epidural and the discomfort while actually receiving it. I thanked Monti for coming into the hospital for us, which pleasantly surprised him I think.

My contractions continued regularly, and though I could still feel their tightening in my belly I had no pain at all. In my estimation, it was now just a matter of waiting to push. Your daddy and I busied ourselves by watching The Today Show together. There were segments on affordable ski resorts and speculation about what the new First Lady, Michelle Obama, would wear to the inaugural ball.

Around 10am or so, Sue took over my nursing care. She had been at St. Mary's for more than 25 years, and we later found out that she'd even worked with your grandma when Dear Linda worked there on the weekends and during the summers while she taught at the university. Sue was clearly a very capable nurse, and I was immediately comfortable with her level of expertise.

At 10:30, Grandpa Charlie arrived from the Bentonville Courthouse, conspicuously dressed in a suit and tie. (My nurse and a random visitor in the waiting room quickly guessed that he is an attorney.) He was all smiles and ready with his "Proud Grandpa" button for as soon as you made your appearance.

At 11am, my nurse checked me for the first time since the pitocin had been started. I'd been thinking that someone should check me soon, knowing my history, and was even wondering if it was time to push without anyone being the wiser. Sue determined that I was at 6.5-7cm and 70-80% effaced. I nodded my head, pleased with the progress, and knew that it wouldn't be long before I'd get to hold you. Sue went about the business of getting the room ready for delivery, pushing tables this way and that and turning on the warmer in your bed. I set your daddy on the task of calling the grandparents with the update. Dear Linda had requested that we let her know when I was in "transition"--both of us being nurses, she knew that I would know to call her when I was around 7cm--so that she could wrap up at work and head our way. During this time, I also had the distinct pleasure of using a bedpan for the first time, but I was just so happy to know that I still had control of my faculties and didn't have to have a catheter that I didn't mind at all.

A little before 11:30, Grandpa Charlie decided that he would go down to his car and get his computer in order to work on a few business items. While he was down there, he realized that his "dinner bell" was about to go off (this won't be the last time you hear him refer to this, my dear child :), so he called us to see what food he could bring back for your daddy. I, of course, wouldn't be able to eat until after you were born. Upon Grandpa's return, both men were gracious enough to not eat in front of me, though, which was nice.

Dr. Pickhardt returned to check on me at 11:30, while Grandpa Charlie was on his lunch run. Dr. P. asked how everything was going, and when I told him that the nurse had me at 7 and 80% at 1100, his jaw literally dropped open. I wasn't sure what to make of that until I realized that he was incredibly surprised at how quickly I had progressed. He said something along the lines of, "Well, I better get one of the girls in here and check you myself to see how much more you've dilated." Sure enough, I was at 9cm and 90%. He said rather incredulously, "You really went fast. If you'd gone into labor on your own, you might not have made it to the hospital in time for an epidural." He decided he should break my water to check for meconium in the amniotic fluid (which if present would possibly indicate that you were or had been in distress; fortunately the fluid was clear) and get me ready for delivery. He said, "Well, I'll stay close. I've got some computer stuff I need to do, so I'll be right outside."

I had noticed right after the nurse checked me (at 1100), that I began to feel pressure in my bottom with each contraction. The pressure only increased after the doctor checked me, and I knew we were very close. I became nervous, though, and began to worry that if I could feel that pressure as mild as it was (and control my own bladder) that perhaps the epidural was not as effective as I'd hoped and would not control the considerable pain that might come during the delivery. I pushed the PCA button on the epidural pump to give myself an extra dose of medicine and hoped that it would do the trick.

I spent the time between 9 and 10 centimeters in prayer. I had the room to myself since your daddy had started on his lunch down the hall, and it was a nice calm before the storm of the delivery. I thanked God for you, prayed for your safety and that my pain would not be an issue, among other things. I don't remember having time to pray right before your brothers were born, and I wish that I had because it was such a special time.

Just before noon, Sue returned to check me. She never said I was "complete", but based on her next actions it could be assumed. She went out into the hallway and said, loudly, "Dr. Pickhardt? You'd better get in here. One push and she's probably gonna have this baby." Your daddy tells me that heard her say that from his vantage point in the waiting area, but he wasn't sure she was talking about me until Dr. P. replied, "Well, you better get the father in there" while looking directly at him. Your daddy stood up quickly and left his half-eaten lunch with Grandpa so that he could witness your arrival (no doubt he will remind you of this fact, surely mentioning something about cold fries, from time to time ;). Back in the room, my nurse hurried to break the bed down, set up the stirrups and call over to the nursery to "catch a baby in rm. 533." I had only labored for a total of five hours before it was time to push.

The nurse was near the foot of the bed where the doctor would soon be. She saw that I was beginning a contraction and sat down to help me begin to push through it. This caught me off-guard because I thought we were waiting on the doctor. I tried to remember the proper technique for pushing, but having nothing but my own legs to hold on to, rather than the handles on the full stirrups because of the way the nurse had broken down the bed, I was a bit ineffective with this first round of pushing. Also, as I feared, the epidural was not "covering me," so I did indeed feel everything as I pushed. (oddly enough though, I still wasn't feeling my contractions. hm.)

Dr. Pickhardt came in during my first attempt and immediately began to coach me through it as he gowned up. Then he took over for the nurse, and before long, it was time for me to push again. I still didn't feel prepared, and I was hoping someone would count it out for me so I would know when to let up and breathe, but I did much better this time.

I can't remember if I pushed through one or two more contractions, but I began to realize that I was going to have to go through a lot of pain to bring you into the world. I had been holding back a little bit to try to avoid that, but I decided to embrace it and let you come no matter how afraid I was. The next contraction was met with the strongest pushes yet, and I yelped and moaned out in pain as your head passed through.

I really thought I was through the worst of it, and I almost started to relax, though I was very uncomfortable and very aware of your body still there in the birth canal. I kept my eyes closed because I remained focused and about the business of delivering you. Dr. P., who is usually very calm and even-spoken, sounded quite concerned as he said I would have to really work to get your shoulders out--even more than the effort it had taken to push out your head. I didn't know how much more I could give, but I understood from his tone that we would be in serious trouble if I couldn't finish the task.

I'm not sure they even waited for the next contraction, since time was of the essence. I pushed through more pain than I had ever experienced, and your daddy said I made noises he's never heard before as I was again very vocal in my effort. I pushed and pushed some more, way past what I thought I'd be capable of. Then there was a great relief of pressure, and I knew you were here. It was 12:16pm.

Almost immediately, you cried with the full, healthy force of your lungs. After the doctor cleaned out your nose and mouth, he placed you on my belly and let me hold you for a few moments. It felt so good to have you in my arms and study your face. You were warm and big and beautiful. I knew I would love you for the rest of my life. Your daddy was crying and telling us how much he loved us; I love him for that, for being so into our babies.

The nurses took you to the warming bed, and soon the announcement was made that you weighed 10 pounds and 10 ounces. While they checked your vital signs (your APGARs were perfect: 9,9) and bundled you up, Dr. P. stitched up my second degree laceration, all the while telling me how good I did and how worried he'd been when your shoulders had gotten stuck. He said that he realized just what a big baby you were after your head was delivered. He never said so, but reading between the lines I think he might have recommended a c-section had he known.

The nurses returned you to me, chatting pleasantly and still marveling at your size. Before they left, one mentioned she'd never seen a mother be so calm and collected in such circumstances (I suppose she was talking about the tense moments surrounding your shoulders being stuck). I had to smile because I couldn't imagine why she thought that; I felt anything but collected.

We took a quick picture with Dr. Pickhardt; he congratulated us once more, shaking Daddy's hand, and then he was gone. We had you in the room with us for the next hour before they had to take you to the nursery for tests and your first bath. Grandpa Charlie came in from the waiting room to meet you, and you charmed him right away. Daddy took the time to go finish his (now cold) fries. Dear Linda arrived soon afterward. We took pictures of each other holding you, all of us marveling at your beauty and perfect baby-ness. You also nursed for a while, after only a few attempts at latching on.

By the end of the day, many phone calls and emails had gone out to announce your arrival. My dad left to pick up your brothers from Grandma Lolah's, so that she and Grandpa David could be with us; Jackson and Cooper would visit the next day. Aunt Margo and Uncle Josh also came to visit you on your birthday. While Grandma Lolah stayed to hold you, Grandpa David left to pick up his momma, Great-grandma Billie, so that she could meet you too. Because we delivered in Rogers, she lived just a few minutes away from where we were. You were the first of our children that she'd been able to come see in the hospital, and her face clearly showed how happy she was to get to hold you. Our visitors were all gone by 6pm, and so we had a quiet night alone together--just me, you, and Daddy.

So, that's the story of your first day, a very special day indeed.

I love you, baby girl!

♦

She's Here!!

Our hearts are full, and our joy is complete. Ella Claire was born yesterday, January 15th, at 12:16pm. She was 21in. long and weighed 10lbs., 10oz.! She's a big, beautiful, and healthy baby. I cannot even express how much I love her already. I will tell more of the story in my next post, but for now I would like to introduce you to our sweet girl!





It's been a bit of a whirlwind couple of days, and we are glad to be home tonight. I can't believe we are a family of five!!

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The ball is officially rolling

My doctor's office called me back about scheduling the induction. I am supposed to show up at the hospital at 6 a.m. tomorrow morning to begin the process.

It doesn't make for very exciting reading, but them's the plans. I guess I'll have to rehash the boys' labor stories to give you the drama I know you've been craving.

At least the time of birth remains up in the air because it will still be my body doing the work, albeit assisted. And her length and weight are as yet a mystery, too. Guesses about those? I'd love to hear how big you all think she might be. . . If I were to guess, though, I'd aim high!

♦

Maybe I'm biased. . .

. . . but could he BE any cuter? I mean, seriously!

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Laundry Day

Not that I'm nesting, per se, but this morning I have all but eliminated the dirty laundry in this house. I have big plans to actually put the clean clothes away and even iron some of Chris' work stuff in advance (a revolutionary idea! do things before the last minute?! really who AM I these days!?). I also went through all the awesome new clothes that we got for Christmas and pulled tags/peeled stickers/removed hangers in order to wash them too.

I'm getting antsy to go through our closets and purge all the stuff that we've outgrown and/or do not wear anymore (again. it's like peeling back layers of an onion; you go through everything once, and then when you start back at the beginning you can see more that you are willing to part with.), but I'll try to resist that urge for now. I have a tendency to try to overdo when I start in on projects and end up getting more out than I ever actually put away--making more of a mess than when I started. Just ask my parents about the long Saturdays I spent trying to clean my room as a child, only to finish one drawer in my desk while further trashing the rest of the messy room.

Anyways, where was I? Oh. . .

After I started the last full load of clothes, I went in the kitchen to tidy up in there and found that I really had nothing more to do than put a few plates and glasses in the dishwasher. My mom worked really hard this weekend to clean up in there for me (she's such a blessing!), and I've actually managed to keep on top of it since then.

I do not have a doctor's appointment this week. I'll either go into labor on my own or be induced. And since Thursday's planned induction is starting to look like more and more of a reality, I am planning accordingly. Once I hear back from my doctor's office to know for sure that we are scheduled for that morning, I have some childcare and dog-sitting arrangements to make. I've had bags packed for myself and the boys for a few weeks now, but I'll have to recheck them and see what last-minute stuff needs to go back in there. I also have Ella's bag packed, of course, and I have included more clothing in there than she'd be able to wear in a month. It's all so cute, I just couldn't decide what to bring. Plus, it's always a little bit of a guess to know just what size of clothing to bring, so I've erred on the side of caution there. Judging by my history of two 9+ pound babies already and my current belly measurements, I am betting that bigger clothes are the way to go.

Ooooo, American Idol starts tonight! I'm sure I'll share my thoughts in an upcoming post. Hopefully I won't be too preoccupied with birthin' a baby to watch :).

♦

Pregnancy update #5,497

I realized a while back that all these false contractions combined with a couple of unfruitful trips to the hospital have kind of made it hard for me to believe that this pregnancy will ever come to an end. Talking about when I'm due and speculating about the timing of the actual event with other people have become the utmost exercises in abstraction to me. As I've previously mentioned.

Earlier today, though, I figured out that regardless of whether I go into labor on my own (please!) or am induced on Thursday, we will have a baby in our house by this weekend.

How exciting is that?! It's becoming quite a bit more real to me now.

And I think I can muster enough patience to make it until Thursday. I think I'll try to convince myself that it will not happen until then, so that if it does it will be a pleasant surprise rather than something I'm counting on.

I've said frequently of late, "Today would be a good day to have a baby."

I'm ready if she is, but so far no true-labor-type activity just yet.

♦

Not yet, but soon

Just a quick post:

Sorry that it's a later in the evening again, but I just got the boys settled for the night.

Still pregnant, some contractions every so often, however nothing to get excited about today. I have noticed some changes, but I'll spare you the details :).

I know it will be soon now, one way or another. I'd really prefer to go into labor on my own. If not, I will welcome induction on the 15th because this baby is already a big girl! She already measured 40.5 cm at my 38 and 1/2 week appointment, which was a week ago now.

I'm looking forward to a change of topic on this blog, as I'm sure all of you are as well. Thanks for checking in!

♦

Belated Saturday update

Sorry I left y'all hanging; missed the Saturday cutoff by 18 minutes. I was out until a little after 10p.m. and then tried to get to bed soon after returning home. I didn't even think about my internets until now, right after my first bathroom trip of the night.

I went to the Razorback basketball game tonight (boooo, I hate losing!). I have been quite the homebody of late, as I've often mentioned, because I really want to be close to home and hospital when I go into labor. However, I thought I could risk this trip for two reasons: (1) we rode with friends of my parents because they have a parking permit and were able to drop us off right at the door instead of us having to park and walk the hills of Fayetteville; (2) he is an ER doctor and she is an OB nurse, so I was in good company were it to become "time" for the baby. Ha! And on top of that, I'm pretty sure our pediatrician was in attendance too, so the whole family would have been set :).

Anyway, it was an uneventful trip and a nice evening out, and I'm glad I made the effort. Bud Walton Arena was as packed as I've seen it in a good long while, which makes me happy for the team. I just wish it were a better game; the loss wouldn't be so hard to take if I thought we played at our best, but I don't. Here's hoping for a better effort next time.

So, as of this moment, I remain with child. I gotta think it will be soon. . .

In the mean time, though, I'm gonna try to get some sleep.

'Night.

♦

In which I found some words today

I contracted all day yesterday without letting up but also without progress. Later in the evening, it seemed to get a little more like "real labor." After that, I counted the minutes between contractions rather late into the night. When they got to about 8 minutes apart, I finally decided that I needed to stop obsessing about them and try to get some sleep, thinking that I would wake up if they got closer and/or more painful.

I woke up this morning without any contractions at all, so I guess I made the right decision. I can't help but thinking that it's strange to get so regular only to go to sleep and have the contractions disappear. This isn't the first time it's happened in the last couple of weeks either.

The not knowing when (and perhaps the how) is truly the hardest part.

Oh well. It will all be clear within the next week, and I can look back on everything and just smile.

Until then, I am trying to enjoy the time I have left with just the boys. I really haven't been very purposeful in that up to this point. However, even with that in mind and as much as I wanted to capitalize on the warmer weather, I did not manage to get outside in the backyard with them today. But we did have some quality indoor time such as playing hide-from-the-tickle-monsters, which involved me in all my pregnant glory and both boys in a tent that was clearly made for no more than two small (VERY SMALL) children, and later read some stories together in the wide open space (comparatively) that is our bed. I love how Cooper just starts backing up into my lap as soon as a book is opened. It's incredibly endearing, as so much of what he does these days is. Jackson, too, found some time to be sweet in amongst all the frustrating three-ness. "Hey, Mommy? I love you." You too, buddy.

The other thing we did, more as a quick fix for my stir-craziness than as family bonding time, was to drive-thru at the bank and then McDonalds for chocolate shakes while still in our PJs this afternoon. Jackson always gets very brotherly during these times, which is sweet to witness; today being no different, he asked if Cooper wanted a shake too. I of course heard the answer, but Jackson always tells me, just to be sure that I know to get one for his brother too. And I just love hearing Cooper say, "Yummy tasty!" and "Muh-oore, chockiT. Pe-eas."

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A picture is worth a thousand of 'em

I have no more words today, so I've resorted to a photo update. This one was taken just a few minutes ago. (Sorry for the fakey-looking smile, the harder I tried, the faker it got.)



Thank you, that is all for now.

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Your Wednesday update has arrived

I have nothing to report in terms of the baby. I'm 39 weeks today, and I'm trying not to whine too much about how "done" I feel with this pregnancy--especially since based on my cycle I was originally due on December 26th. I am having a rather sharp pain under my ribs on the left side when I move or get into certain positions, and I'm stumped as to what is causing it. I've already checked for rogue baby parts that may have lodged themselves there for any length of time, but I don't think that's the problem. Any thoughts?

The boys and I have had some fun playing at home today. I gave them some horsey rides (hmmmm, maybe THAT'S the source of my rib pain. . .) and spun them in the computer chair, among other things, and generally wore all of us out in the process.

I was also able to do some laundry and run the dishwasher this afternoon, and I think I still have enough energy left in me to cook some hamburgers for dinner tonight--as requested by my eldest after seeing that commercial for the new "sliders" cooker--only one of a bajillion products pimped by that obnoxious Billy Mays character. All of a sudden, my child is absolutely enamored with commercials and asks for nearly everything he sees in the ads, complete with fussing if he doesn't get immediate gratification for his requests. This has convinced me of two things: (1) we definitely need to be mindful of how much TV he watches, and (B) the people who advertise on Nickelodeon and all the other kid channels are basically without souls (okay, I am being hyperbolic on that last point, if only a little bit).

Along the same lines, while at Target last night to spend the boys' Christmas money from my grandparents, I was completely frustrated to discover that I now have one of "those" children who asks for everything in the store. When did my sweet Jackson turn into a spoiled brat, especially since he is more than familiar with the word "no"? I remember feeling bad for telling him no when he would occasionally ask for things in the past, but I'm so over that these days.

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Up at the crack of noon

Chris gives me permission to go into labor tonight, but only after the Razorbacks vs. the Longhorns game :). He tells me that the rest of the week at work will be easy to make-up, but that he needed to be there at least today.

My brother thinks I should wait for the weekend, since it's good for everybody's schedule.

I tell both of these men that while I appreciate their input, the only opinion about this that really matters is Ellie's :). And while she is not SHARING it with the rest of us, I think it is apparent that she does indeed have a very strong opinion about this topic :). Especially evident when we go so far as to check-in to the hospital only for her to back-off the contractions in order to lavish in the womb a little longer.

No contractions of note today, at least none that are working together with any others anyway. I have a painful one every now-and-again but never in close succession. So we wait, still.

Today has been a pajamas day, one of many in the past couple of weeks admittedly. I'm not sleeping very well at night (contractions, can't get comfortable, etc.), and I find that it catches up with me during the day. I'm glad Jackson is able to do a lot for himself and that Cooper still takes a morning nap because that means I can lounge on the couch for an uninterrupted length of time before the lunch rush. Jackson has even been answering the phone for me and telling anyone who would inquire after me that I am sleeping--all the while I am trying to get his attention to say, "Jackson, Mommy's not sleeping, please bring me my phone" which is largely ignored by him.

So, if you've called and have been told that, please know that reports of my sleeping have been greatly exaggerated, and to the contrary I am usually, as my own mother likes to say, "just resting my eyes." Who could sleep while being on-the-clock with even one of these boys anyway? Every few seconds or so, there's the ever-important questions as to the whereabouts of certain special items or a synopsis of the movie to tell and so on.

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No baby but an end is in sight

I am home from my doctor's appointment.

It's getting a little ridiculous now. The cursed stall-out at 2 centimeters continues. I've come to expect it, but it makes actually having a baby in the very near future more and more of an abstract concept to me; it's hard to believe that I'll ever be done with this pregnancy.

But, my doctor says he thinks I will have the baby this week. Yay! And, if not, he wants to induce me next Thursday, the 15th. He doesn't want me to go too much past my due date (the 14th) because the baby is already measuring on the large side as it is.

I really enjoy taking a little bit of guesswork out of it, but I sure would like to go into labor on my own, if possible.

That's the latest; thanks for checking in with me.

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A whole lotta nothin'

We've had a nice quiet day at home today. We'll probably have to change the name of our house to the hermitage if I don't get out and around soon :).

I'm not signing up for any more shifts at work, and that greatly reduces my stress level to not have 12 hours of work looming over me on any given day between now and having my girl. This way I don't have to feel like orchestrating my schedule or thinking that one day is better than any other day for her arrival, and I can just let her come when she will.

No major baby developments as of this moment. I'm still contracting sporadically, but I can tell that nothing of consequence is happening. Chris asked me how far apart they are today, but quite honestly I'm not even bothering to time them. Until they get more painful or noticeably closer together, I'd rather not obsess about them anymore.

I know it's hard on him to be one degree removed from "the action." I don't want to get his hopes up unnecessarily, but then again I don't want him to feel left out either. I'm trying to temper my updates (to him and everybody else) with the uncertainty I feel--I won't know for sure when it's time until it actually IS time.

It's kind of frustrating to have this be my third pregnancy and still have so much doubt about what "real labor" feels like. I remember in my head, but it's different when you try to compare sensations. And, the way labor started with Cooper was relatively mild, only becoming super-painful after already showing up to the hospital. Also, like I've said before, I'd hate to be late to the party and deliver in the car or something.

If nothing else happens today, I do have another doctor's appointment tomorrow. At which point, I'll probably STILL be at 2.5 centimeters and 50%+ effaced. *sigh* A part of me is holding out hope that I'll go into labor before this next appointment so that my showing up to the hospital yesterday doesn't feel so silly. But I'm not super-optimistic about that at this point.

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Don't break out the cigars yet

We are home for now.

I was at the hospital for about 6 hours and made minimal progress toward labor, in spite of regular contractions. They were pretty intense for a while but by mid-morning had tapered off in strength (though still coming at regular intervals). The doctor gave me the option of staying awhile to "see how things go," or laboring at home to return "right away" if anything changes. I think he thinks this might actually be early labor but was fine with me going home for a while.

He didn't want to encourage contractions with medication at this point either. I am 38 weeks and 3 days along, and the rule of thumb that he goes by is to not induce until 39 weeks. Ooooo, so close! I'm actually okay with that because there are increased risks with pitocin, but a part of me felt like, "well, I'm already here and I've got good childcare coverage this weekend. . .."

It will happen when it happens, and really it WILL be soon even though these last few weeks have drug on a bit.

I'm hoping my water breaks or I have some other huge change so that I know when to go back. At this point, I'm afraid I might talk myself out of going when I need to because I don't want to be wrong again only to have the baby in the car or something :).

We got to this same point before Jackson was born where I was contracting a lot but not progressing, and I was very unsure of when I should return. Graciously, my water broke and cleared up the confusion for me.

Sorry to get everyone's hopes up by crying "wolf" but surely we are closer now than we were. I've been know to hang out in this stage of labor for a while but by the time I dilate to a 5, my babies come quickly thereafter.

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Welllllll. . .

We're heading to the hospital in the wee hours this morning. I'm having strong and regular contractions that have lasted more than four hours now and show no signs of slowing down. I do not know if it is "time" for sure, but it definitely seems like it.

We will update as soon as we can.

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How many different ways are there to say: "No baby yet?"

'Cause I'm already running out of ideas.

Anyway, yes, I'm still preggers.

I'm not complaining, I don't think. I'm just a little disappointed with the false alarms that I've had--regular contractions for a few hours in a row that dissolve into nothing (and make no changes toward labor). I really don't want to work anymore, not just because it's so tiring but also because I'd really hate to go into labor WHILE at work for a couple of reasons--the first being that I don't want my water to break in public (and except for work, I'm not exactly making public appearance these days if I can help it) and the second being that it will be a huge inconvenience for my co-workers if I need to leave in the middle of my shift (not to mention that I'm one of those nurses that does all the care on time but only charts about it well after the fact--in other words I'm usually way behind in my paperwork until right before I leave). Besides, who wants to work when a long vacation is just around the corner?

I just realized earlier this evening as I was rushing off to return some library books before closing time that I hadn't left the house since Monday. (see, I told you I'm not making public appearances these days) I'm totally okay with that, though; just keeping a low profile and sleeping and cleaning and playing with my boys. We went outside in the backyard for a couple of hours today. It was beautiful weather and is supposed to be just as nice if not a little warmer tomorrow. Jackson wanted me to "seesaw" with him--talk about a workout! I also pushed them in their swings for ever and helped the little guy down the slide a few times. I can't believe my big boy doesn't need my help to slide anymore. When did he get so big?

Big thanks to Uncle Josh and Aunt Margo for the awesome teeter-totter for the boys and the chairs for their pregnant momma! I need to take some pictures because Josh tells me he's thinking about selling these and similar pieces. Thanks also to Grandma Lolah and Grandpa David for the swingset; it was a magical time with all these fun things to play on.

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No tenemos bebe todavia

Ella remains safe and secure in my belly today. I guess technically there's still time to have her before midnight tonight and be eligible for all that "free stuff" that apparently comes to New Year's babies, but I'm not holding my breath. I just am not one of those people that wins things.

Jackson is getting mad at me because I can't promise that she is coming today, and as a further insult I can't even tell him WHAT day for sure. He doesn't quite understand that it is neither up to me nor am I privvy to her exact schedule. I told Jackson that a girl is ready when she's ready and that you can't rush these things :).

We had a little excitement this afternoon when Santa (read: Grandpa Charlie) brought the remainder of the baby furniture for Ella's room. He had asked me if we could wait until after the holidays before refurbishing the old crib, all the while conspiring to purchase not just a new crib but a complete bedroom set for Christmas. He threw me off the trail quite nicely with that bluff :). Dad said that he goes to great lengths to avoid painting :). I guess so! We are so excited to have such a nice set that will serve her for many years to come. It's an incredible gift!

Here are some pictures:

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