We had a photographer at our house this week to capture newborn and family photos. Here's a sneak peek (we'll have the full set of photos in two weeks). These photos just make my heart melt!
We're overjoyed with the addition of a second daughter to our family. It's been quite the journey to get to this point. If you'd asked me two years ago what our family would look like in the future, I wouldn't have an answer, just lots of uncertainty. Even just six months ago or three months ago, or last week, I'd still have that uncertainty. Yes, I was pregnant and carrying our child, but, no, there were no guarantees she would come home with us. Home, a place every child should get to go.
I had a repeat c-section scheduled for May 29 at 1pm, amniocentesis the day before to confirm Isla's lungs were developed (I would be 38 weeks gestation at delivery). Our care team wanted to deliver Isla as soon as her lungs were developed, given my history with Grace (I'll always have that "high risk" tag and an OB chart that is several inches thick). Probably, ideally, the specialist would have liked to deliver Isla at 37 weeks, but that was two days prior to Grace's second birthday. While I actually like that our girls birthdays are close (it reminds me of our two nieces Lexi and Ava), I really did not want to be in the hospital recovering on her birthday. If there was any way we could wait until after Grace's birthday, even just one day, that would be ideal. I knew this may not work out, that I could go into labor and deliver before or even on Grace's birthday. I was prepared for that, but not wishing it by any means. Grace's day will always be special. So, I was able to convince my care team that 38 weeks would be my ideal choice.
Given my history of c-section with Grace, the only way a VBAC would be possible would be for me to go into labor on my own prior to the May 29 section date. They thought it was very unlikely given I went one day shy of my due date with Gavin. Well, Isla proved them wrong! We decided that if, by small chance, I did go into labor after 37 weeks but before 38 weeks, I would try for a VBAC, fully understanding the risks (and weighing them versus the risk of c-section) and possibility that I may end up with a c-section even if I tried for a VBAC. I was fine with that. Brad had his reservations, very nervous for the health and well-being of both his wife and his child.
We were totally prepared for our c-section on May 29, until Isla changed the plans :)
After attending the local Memorial Day parade where much fun was had by Gavin gobbling up as much candy as he could in 45 minutes (and then needing an emergency potty break - with no bathroom in sight - in the forest while waiting 20 minutes to get out of the parking lot at said parade), we headed home. Later in the afternoon, I began to feel several Braxton Hicks contractions, irregularly, but more regularly than the preceding several weeks. Then in the evening hours, there was some slight pain and more pressure with the contractions. I chalked it up to nothing, thinking maybe I hadn't had enough water throughout the day. I joked with Brad that I might wake him up in the middle of the night in labor (this is what happened with both Gavin and Grace - for Gavin, my water had broken, though he still asked in a very sleepy state of mind if we could just wait until the morning to call my OB). Isla also had felt like she was sitting very low in my uterus since a couple of days before Memorial Day.
That night, I woke up around midnight to use the bathroom (nothing new), head back to bed, and was lying there trying to fall asleep - first real contraction settles in. I begin to feel more, and regularly this time. I timed them, about 5-7 minutes apart. I woke Brad up (no comment this time about going back to bed and calling in the morning). We waited about an hour and a half and decide to call the on-call OB who says I should come in to the hospital. I've head so many stories about how quickly labor and deliver can proceed in your third or later pregnancy - I didn't want to be "that woman" delivering at home or in the car, particularly given my high risk status and the fact that I had a c-section scheduled for the next day.
We arrived at the hospital around 3am, stayed in triage for 3 hours to be told my cervix (dilated at 2-3 upon arrival) was not changing and I was not in active labor (I FELT LIKE I WAS IN ACTIVE LABOR). We were sent home (seriously?) and told to still go to my already scheduled amniocentesis appointment at 8:30am. So, home we went where I tried to rest for an hour or so before heading to bring Gavin to school (Brad took him in while I looked like a crazy pregnant lady in labor in the car, nice!) and then to our appointment. I had dilated a bit more by this point, but we decided to proceed with the amnio just in case the contractions stopped and my already scheduled c-section would be hinged on the results for lung maturity. Fun does not equal lying on that table contracting in pain, and having an amnio in between contractions.
Thankfully the specialist decided to send us back to the hospital after our appointment and had me admitted. After spending another hour and a half in triage, I was officially told I was in ACTIVE labor, my ticket to a labor and delivery room. And more importantly AN EPIDURAL, thank the Lord. I'd only felt like I need one for about five hours at this point! Brad was wonderful, rubbing my lower back with each contraction up to this point - intense back labor, just like with Gavin.
So, my chances at a VBAC were looking good at this point. I was so relieved - I really was not excited about a c-section but was certainly going to do what was recommended. We absolutely needed our little girl to be safe. But I was concerned about the risk of surgery for me - you never know what could happen. And I had been on a blood thinner for my entire pregnancy as a precaution given my history with Grace and my crappy placenta (my placenta with Isla behaved very well). I have to think that Grace had a role in the plan - did she sense my hesitation with a c-section and assure I went into labor? Certainly, it was out of my hands.
I felt Grace's presence very strongly during my entire labor and delivery experience. I didn't - but should have with hindsight - brush up on my breathing techniques or other pain relieving techniques for labor, thinking that my delivery would not involve labor. Given this lapse in planning, I was struggling with intense pain. I decided I would use Grace's face as my focal point. I kept my eyes closed during each contraction and pictured my little angel with her wings wrapped around me, keeping me safe. I could feel her presence very strongly. I know she was there for her sister and me.
Once the epidural was in place (properly in place - the first attempt only provided pain relief for the right side of my lower body) we were coasting through to delivery. What an incredible experience - I was able to watch Isla being born through a mirror and then she was immediately placed on my chest and remained there for nearly an hour and a half. We heard her cry and watched her turn pink. SHE WAS BREATHING on her own. We had made it. She was alive. No NICU. No neonatologist. No saying goodbye. No leaving the hospital empty-handed. She would be ours to keep and bring home (I can't type this without bawling). This is something that most families don't even think twice about. But ours can't do anything but think about this. Gavin even asked me yesterday when Isla would be going to heaven. (Again, can't type this without bawling). He didn't ask because he is jealous or wanting her to leave. This is his normal for a baby sister, even though we've spent a lot of time talking with him during this pregnancy about how everything seems to indicating Isla would live with us. No heaven for her yet. One day, we'll all be together - all of my children - but not yet.
We've been soaking in all things Isla for the past six days. It is a joy to have her in our home and to see our family expand. It's been a lot of fun having so much dedicated family time. She is a very good baby - sleeps very well at night, just getting up every 3 hours or so to eat, then back to sleep. She's a much quieter sleeper than Gavin was. I remember him being such a squirmy, loud sleeper. She just loves being swaddlesdand sleeps so peacefully. She is just precious! I've also enjoyed getting one on one time with Gavin each day with our new balance of having two children at home. He really thrives on this special time, so it is something I will focus on during my maternity leave. Yesterday, we worked on the garden, our special thing to do together. Today, we made several paper airplanes and raced them. I am just really loving the balance that we're forming.
Funny, because I had so many fears and hesitations with how I would show all of my children that I love them equally. Would Gavin hate us for bringing another sibling into the house? Not at all I'm finding. He really loves helping and spending time with his sister. And on Sunday we brought Isla to her first of many masses (debated, given the large crowd and potential for germs). It was really special to bring her there given we didn't get this opportunity with Grace. After mass, as we always do, we visited Grace at the cemetery. It was quite emotional for me. But I thanked her for being there with us throughout our pregnancy with Isla. I'm not sure I would have made it without knowing that she was there watching out for us. I'm looking forward to sharing her story with Isla and keeping big sister's memory alive.
And so our journey continues. I'm looking forward to having our blog followers along for the ride as I continue to share my family's stories with you.
"Rainbow
Babies" is the understanding that the beauty of a rainbow does not
negate the ravages of the storm. When a rainbow appears, it doesn't mean
the storm never happened or that the family is not still dealing with
its aftermath. What it means is that something beautiful and full of
light has appeared in the midst of the darkness and clouds. Storm
clouds may still hover but the rainbow provides a counterbalance of
color, energy and hope."
Below this post, I've published some of my "secret" posts from the past year or so (all are dated June 3, but you'll see the actual blog date within the post). These are posts that I needed to write, but just couldn't post until now. Read them if you'd like, or just pass over them. They aren't always the most positive. We shared the news of our pregnancy with Isla very slowly and cautiously. Almost "hiding" it in some regards, feeling very guarded. There was no mention of my pregnancy on Facebook, no mass emails announcing it, no published blog posts. By no means did we decide to be quiet because we were ashamed - the complete opposite in fact. This pregnancy has created vulnerability in me like never before. I simply couldn't be "loud" about it until I had her in my arms, alive. That's all. So now I promise, I'll be just like all other moms with newborns - I'll bombard you with photos and updates :) Watch out blog!
Here are some photos of Isla's birthday and the past few days at home...
I'm behind on posting updated ultrasound photos (from our now weekly scans). Here's our picture perfect little girl!
April 20, 2013:
I'm glad it's the weekend. Sure, I often feel this way - a time to regroup, spend time with my family, sleep a little extra. But this weekend feels even more welcome than most. While we don't live in Boston or know anyone affected by the bombings this week, it feels like it hits so close to home. I've found myself so saddened all this week. Such a tragic, unnecessary loss of lives. Not only loss of lives and lives forever physically and emotionally scarred for life, it's an attack on a sporting event that is so very near and dear to our hearts.
An attack on a marathon - some of the nicest, most supportive athletes and spectators in all of sports. Long distance running is a community of people who support one another. Not that other sporting events don't have this comradery, but when was the last time you witnessed a drunken spectator yelling, swearing, fighting at a fellow runner? It just doesn't happen like it does at a football, hockey or baseball game. Rivalry is all great, but it honestly just doesn't exist at running events. Everyone cheers for everyone, not just "their guy" (or girl). So, the innocence of racing events seems so lost this week - and likely for weeks, months, and years to come.
On one hand, I want to say, like many, that the events of this week won't influence my choice to run in races. That that is what these terrorists want, to strip away the safe and secure environment and create fear that paralyzes us. I want to say I'm bigger than that and running will go on. But I have to say, I am a little more fearful. When you have an event in such a large public place, 26+ miles in this case, how do you ever fully secure the event? How would any of those spectators on Monday be expected to sense or forecast this awful event. It's nearly impossible.
And to know that we make these events family events - we want to model healthy behaviors for our children and have them join in the fun of spectating. And for what? For them to lose their lives or forever be scared in a way that will be very difficult to resume normalcy. I want to be able to freely take my kids to these events to cheer on mom and dad, and hope that one day, if they choose, they will follow in our footsteps. But this week, I feel like sheltering our little guy.
We made no mention of the attack to Gavin. I can't find a way to even discuss this act of senselessness with a four year old. Will he fear mom and dad running in marathons? Or feel coming to spectate is putting his health and life in danger?
I did see several people on Facebook posting a quote from Mr. Rogers that just brought tears to my eyes. Such a good thing to say in the event your kids do catch news coverage of scary, violent stories:
