Our Newest Family Member

Where do I even start?

I'll start with a huge THANK YOU to everyone that was thinking of us yesterday . . . your thoughts and prayers were certainly answered. Everything with the arrival of Kate went SO well, it's simply a miracle. How we ever became lucky enough to go through all of this without problem one, I'll never know. I'll say it was all of YOU . . . watching out for us and wishing us well.

I guess I could start at the beginning, since my last post was about 'the end.'

Jim and I woke up yesterday a little earlier than normal, both excited about all that the day had in store. I took a shower and rubbed my belly a lot, and I apologized to Kate a few times about 'eviction day' -- when she was going to come out and greet us, ready or not.

The hospital called us (which was a surprise -- we were told to call them), and we were off in a rush to get out the door and get the show started. We had to wake Meg up, which she never enjoys. My dad's response to that was, "Well, her little sister is already cramping her style, huh?" Very true.

Dropping Meg at our friend's was a little difficult . . . I knew it was going to be a fun day for her, but leaving her was still hard. It was like leaving a piece of us behind. It would have been fun to share everything with her . . . fun, but completely and totally impossible . . . so she spent the day with Mac and (I'm sure) enjoyed every minute.

Our arrival at Northside was 100% different from our previous experience in June of 2006. No uncomfortable ride, no complaining to Jim about driving more carefully, no deep breaths and longing to just BE there. Jim and I chatted on the way to the hospital, enjoying the ride together and the excitement of what was coming. Jim asked me a few times, "Do you have that nervous excited feeling in your stomach? I sure do . . . " What a cute daddy.

I had been thinking about different things the night before and on our ride . . . worst case scenarios, of course. Would my labor progress once my water was broken? Would Kate be too big -- would I have to have a C Section? Would Kate be OK -- would she take kindly to being kicked out of her happy home? Only time would tell. I kept reminding myself that everything happens for a reason -- which I LIVE by -- but, still . . . I couldn't help worrying a bit about the bad stuff. Probably because I knew I'd blame myself if something went wrong due to the delivery on (what I considered to be) my terms. That thought was still not sitting well with me as we cruised down GA 400 toward our new life as a family of four.

Arrival, check in, a visit with Dr Graham (with tears of excitement and joy), an enema (yummy -- it was at my request, actually), and a bag of saline later, the epidural was taken care of and I sat comfortably in my labor and delivery room, unable to feel my legs and waiting for Dr Graham to come back and break my water. He arrived, sat on my bed, and before I knew it -- literally -- it was done. I took a deep breath. "Here we go . . . " is all I could think. Even at that point, I'll admit that I was nervous that we were doing the right thing. Had we made the right decision.

About an hour went by, and labor did not get started. I was having contractions -- actually, I was having them all morning, even before Dr Graham came after me with the knitting needle. They weren't regular, though. And they weren't strong.

Dr Graham came back, and we talked about Pitocin. "Pit" -- he called it. A cute little nickname for the medication I had wanted to avoid.

In my mind, I was upset. I felt like I was doing exactly what I didn't want to do. For some reason, breaking my water was one thing . . . adding the drugs took it to another level. I was also well aware that we didn't have many choices. We were at the point where Kate was going to have to come out, whether I had "pit" or not. I didn't want to risk anything, and I didn't want to risk making things worse. So, I agreed to a 'whiff' of Pitocin. It wasn't much, but it was enough to kick start my contractions.

So -- at this point -- by about 1:30pm, my labor was officially induced.

The good news: it worked. It worked really well, and it worked really FAST. But 3:00pm I was 10 cm dilated, fully effaced . . . the only hang up being that Kate was stuck in my pelvis a bit, facing my right hip instead of my back.

We tried some pushing with manual head-turning, but it wasn't going to be easy doing things that way. Our nurse whipped me into some crazy leg-in-a-stir-up position, and I was on my side FEELING every contraction. I was glad to feel the contractions . . . it's not pain (thank you, epidural), but a lot of pressure. It was a familiar feeling. I can't say that I was very uncomfortable at all, really. Every contraction made me feel like I was one step closer to our second daughter, and I enjoyed it.

Jim sat patiently by my side through all of this. I drifted in and out of sleep between contractions (yes, sleep -- don't ask me how) . . . and Jim just sat and watched me. I didn't want him to leave my side, and I didn't even have to tell him. He sat next to me through each and every contraction.

By 5:15, Dr Graham was back and we were going to try pushing again. Still, Kate was stuck. Something about my pelvis being narrow -- but he had a much fancier term for it. He left me with the nurse to try some more pushing on my side . . . said he'd be back a little before 6:00pm to help.

At the next contraction, I pushed . . . one, two, three times . . . and on the third push, the nurse got all excited. She said that, literally. "That third push made me excited, let's try again next contraction."

When that contraction came --and I could really feel it -- I pushed again. Kate's head was nearly out . . . and I was in shock. I thought it was going to be a while -- at least more than just a few pushes. With one more contraction, they told me to STOP pushing. The nurse was paging the doctor to hurry up and come back . . . she was afraid I was going to deliver Kate without him in the room.

Dr Graham rushed in, teased me about going so quickly, then had me push. I pushed once. They told me to stop. The next contraction came, they told me NOT to push, and I felt the sensation of Kate coming out . . . my body pushed her out, and I didn't even have to help.

She was out and on top of my chest at 5:38 pm.

My first thought --- "She doesn't look like Meg!" How strange is that? I'm delirious, my baby is here, and all I'm thinking about is how she does not look like her sister.

Jim was taking pictures like crazy through it all . . . until I finally encouraged him to stop so he could enjoy it all. He cut her cord, he watched her get cleaned up, he carried her back over to me. He's amazing. He was absolute perfection through it all.

And that's it . . . that is the story of Kate's entry into our world. There are lots of other details . . . my parents were there the whole time, arriving around 10am and staying until Kate was about 2 hours old. Our nurse was great, very friendly and helpful. Our room had no windows . . . which, for me as a natural light fanatic, was like birthing a baby in a cave. I nursed Kate for the first time, and she took to it like a fish to water . . . so much so, that I was in shock and couldn't get over it. Meg had a great day with her friend and was picked up by Grandaddy and Nana by mid-evening, with plans to meet her new sister the next day.

Now that all is done, I don't regret our decision to go ahead and have Kate when we did. Not for one second. I don't feel like I missed out . . . and I certainly feel like I 'birthed' Kate, 100%. I look back now and remember how easy it was to push her out, how fantastic it was to hold her for the first time, and how lucky I am to have done it all with a wonderful husband right by my side.

Our family is one member larger now, and my heart is 100 times larger with love. Here is to our new beginning, Jim, me, Meg, and Kate.

Thanks again for everything you all did to help . . . and rest assured that there are a few more 'baby blogs' to come over the next few days.