8 longest days

My 3 previous baby blogs have all ended with the birth story.  But Johans, your story had more to it.  Too much happened in the days just after your birth to not include in your story.  

You were born at home, and the birth went off without a hitch.  It was long, and sadly the kids missed the actual birth.  But otherwise, everything was good.  Well, almost everything.  When you were born, you were a little slow to respond.  You were a little limp, and not quick to breathe.  The midwives had to rub you up good and hard, and I think you got a couple puffs of air as well. But you responded.  By 10 minutes old you were all pink and fine.  It seemed like maybe all would be well. 

The next morning, the midwives came for a checkup.  Your breathing was fast and labored. It reminded me completely of what BBZ went through when he was born.  It took him 3 days to work through some transient breathing stuff.  But he overcame it at home with us. But with you, the midwife wasn't comfortable.  She recommended we head to the hospital.  

One minute we were in bed at home, snuggled up,
and the next we were headed to hospital.

We went in through the emergency room. That meant that we were seen there first.  The nurse who looked after us at first was really nice.  He was chatty and kind and could see we weren't terribly excited to be there.  I mean, I guess, who is, ever?  But, I was struggling.  First of all, being pregnant with you, and giving birth to you, ruined my backside. I couldn't sit comfortably.  So it was really uncomfortable having to sit in the ER. Secondly, I had just had a home birth.  AT HOME.  Because I didn't want to be in hospital.  Because I don't like hospitals.  Because hospitals have rules that don't follow my parenting instincts.  And, of course, hospitals are for sick people.  And I didn't want you to be sick and for me to not be able to give you what I felt you needed in your first days. We should have been at home, in bed, skin to skin, snuggling and sleeping, relaxing and hiding away.  But we were in an ER.   

We eventually had some doctors come around, including a consultant from Pediatrics/the Special Care Nursery (SCN). That doctor was definitely concerned about your breathing and decided that you needed to be admitted.  Not just that, but they wanted to draw blood, give you an IV, take an X-ray, and start you on antibiotics right away.  This was instantly traumatic for me.  It wasn't easy for you either.  The picking and prodding and shifting and whatnot weren't nice.  And after they did those few things, they put us on a bed and wheeled us upstairs to the SCN.  And then, you were out of my arms, and in an isolette. You had wires and tubes and you were surrounded by plastic, and they were telling me not to touch you. This is NOT how I handle my newborns.  Not touching, not holding, not connected 100% of the time?  No.  I could not stop crying. For hours.  Actually, it was days.  

It was so hard to see you like this, and even more so to bed told not to touch you.

 Daddy J went home to get me some stuff, because the hospital had a room just across the hall from the SCN, where I would be able to stay while you were admitted.  I wouldn't be able to stay with you.   When they showed me to the room, I fell into your father's arms and heaved great massive sobs.  I didn't know how I would get through this time.  More than anything, of course, I wanted you to be ok.  But I didn't know how to parent you in this situation.  This wasn't the environment where I knew what to do. All I could do was cry.  And sit and stare at you.

Perhaps it was the next day that someone said I should hold you,
 and I got you skin to skin. It was the best, but when I saw myself... 

I literally could not believe what I looked like.
I have NEVER looked so tired and instantly old EVER.

But I was so happy to be able to nurse you.

 At first, we were hoping that it would take only 2 days in hospital.  And it seemed like you were doing ok.  Your breathing was still too fast, but, it seemed like it was getting better- or maybe we just hoped.  And then a new doctor came to see you.  Within minutes, she was saying that not only were you not better, you weren't better at all, and she said you needed breathing support.  So then, we went from hoping we might get to go home, to having you on a baby CPAP. 

TRAUMA.  You had this machine on your nose, and a tube down your throat.
The worst part, you had to be on it for 24 hours, and I couldn't hold you or feed you during that time.

You were the saddest little sight ever.  And I just kept crying.

 Thankfully, there was a nurse working that day, who saw what I was experiencing as a mother.  She saw my distress.  She saw how tired I was.  She knew the pain I was in trying to sit in the SCN.  She saw my tears.  She knew that I wouldn't be able to hold or feed you for a while.  She knew there was nothing for me to do but sit there.  So she looked me straight in the eye, and she told me to go home, to shower, to see my other children, to get some clean clothes, and to breathe. I followed her advice.  It wasn't easy, but I did it. And then, thank goodness for her, it was the best thing ever.

I was finally able to breathe.  I was able to stop crying.  I showered for the first time SINCE GIVING BIRTH. It was a long shower.  Daddy J took me to the store, and I bought a bunch of food and snacks to keep in the little fridge in my room so I wouldn't have to eat as much hospital food.  And I packed a bunch of clean clothes.  It was SO GOOD to be clean finally.

The next day I was able to hold you, even though you still had the CPAP on.
We both loved it.  

You hated the CPAP, so we all wanted it off- and it was pure joy when it came off! 

When you came off the CPAP, we hoped once again that our time in hospital would be over very soon.  We were waiting on a blood culture to come back.  It came back clean.  Nothing had grown.  This was good news, but, it wasn't enough.  We had our hopes dashed again.  Your white blood cells were going down.  The blood culture hadn't grown anything.  But, your breathing was STILL labored and too fast.  Doctors consulted and decided that, though they couldn't pinpoint what the problem was, they felt more days of antibiotics were necessary.  This time they told us straight up that it would be 3 more days in hospital. They said it was either that you had meconium in your lungs, or, you had pneumonia.  There was no way to tell which it was. 

But the good news was, your body temp was staying steady, and because you were off the machine, you could go into an open cot.  This meant that I could dress you, hold you and feed you.  I could almost parent you as I saw fit.

When I was finally able to hold you and dress you and feed you again, it felt like a miracle.

This was our first photo all together as a family of 6, besides those taken
just after birth. It was the first time your siblings had been back to hospital to see you in a few days. 

I was so happy to just be able to hold you. 

The last few days in the SCN were much easier.  I knew the nurses.  I knew when shift changes happened.  I knew when to expect the doctors.  I knew the other babies- who cried a lot, who had been there the longest, who pooped a million times a day. I saw the parents that came day after day.  I saw that, even though we had been through a lot, we were also lucky that our problems were only what they were.  I trusted that the nurses would come to get me in the night if you needed to feed.  Most of the time I would wake up just as you started fussing, and I would show up ready to feed, just as someone was coming to get me.  But in the meantime, I actually managed to get some sleep as well.  It was kind of amazing.  I actually read a book in this time!  Being able to relax enough, and trust that you were ok, to read a book, was a massive, MASSIVE change from how I was on the first two days when I couldn't even look at a doctor without crying.  It also helped that I had a very clear conversation with another doctor about the treatment you were receiving and that it was indeed our final step.  We would be able to go home on Tuesday.  My eyes were on the goal. Exactly a week after coming in, we would finally be able to go home.  

On Tuesday, at first, they were saying we wouldn't be able to go until after the final dose of meds around 6pm.  I wished we could leave earlier, but, going home was going home, and I'd take it. Then, that day, things went better.  Your IV site wasn't looking great- it was red and inflamed- so the nurse took it out. That in and of itself wasn't a great thing, but, what it meant was that we had a reason to consider whether you *really* needed that last dose, or if we could just go.  When the doctors finally rounded, we got approved to leave.  You were to get just one more shot of antibiotics, in your leg, and then we could go.  Best news ever.  I packed up my stuff and waited for your dad to arrive.       

And then we were leaving! 

I was so so so happy to take you AWAY!

Bye bye Box Hill Hospital!

It was funny to take a leaving-the-hospital picture with my last baby, my third homebirth.  But this was worthy of the shot.

I'll admit, going home- which at that time was still Oma and Opa's 2 bedroom unit- was overwhelming.  Going back to having to actively parent all my children- whew.  Although I wouldn't wish a hospital stay on ANYONE, the one upside was having a week where I sort of only worried about you. I worried a ton about your siblings as well, because they were missing us, they were worried about you, BBV was still nursing and was acting out terribly without me around.  Daddy J was exhausted and completely at the end of his rope. Everyone needed a break from the difficulty of having us away... but, coming home was a whole new set of challenges.  Ones that we are still learning to handle, even now that we're home in our own home in Laos.

I still worry about you.  I worry about the time that it feels like we "lost" while we were in hospital.  I worry about the effect of all those medications on your little system, and what that means for your gut health for the future.  I worry that your breathing *still* isn't quite what it should be.  Sometimes you still suck a breath what seems like way too hard. I worry about you.  It's hard to let go of worry after an experience like that. 

But, you are growing into a happy baby. You eat, sleep and poop as a baby should.  You're 6 weeks old now and starting to smile and react to your siblings more and more and track things with your eyes and growing into 3 months size clothing. You are the perfect end to our family.

 So glad you're here, buddy.  So, so glad. 

Johans Martins Smedes

This birth story begins the day that the rest of the family arrived.  Many people have said, "Wow, they got here right in the nick of time!"  But I don't believe that.  I believe that when the family arrived, my body knew it was ok to have the baby, so we did.  If they had been delayed, or arriving a couple days later, there is no question in my mind that Johans would not have been born until later as well. 

In any case.  Daddy J, BSB, and BBZ all arrived on Sunday, Dec 2, and that night, I started having contractions.  BBV was sleeping with his brother and sister that night, as I was hoping that we might have some luck transitioning him out of our bed- but, he wasn't sleeping well.  So, I was up and down going to him, trying to comfort him.  Eventually, I brought him back to bed with me.  Through all of this, I was having contractions.  They were strong enough that I wasn't really able to sleep properly.  I was in a state of half asleep for sure.  Aware, but not.  I think I slept somewhat hard from about 2-4.  Then I was awake.  I got up and was swaying through contractions next to the bed.  I did that for a while.

Then, because I was sure this baby was coming soon, based on how strong the contractions were already, I went to the kitchen and made some postpartum pads- a job that I hadn't accomplished yet.  Mostly because I didn't want to fill up my in-laws already very full freezer with sanitary napkins.  But, seeing as how I was going to need them super soon, I went and made them.  I poured witch hazel and a few drops of lavender oil on each pad and stuck them in the freezer.

That job done, I decided to go shower.  It was about 6am when I showered, I think.  (just checked my phone to see text messages I wrote to the midwives... I showered before I made the pads... ok.  How's that for memory?!)

I first sent a message to the midwives just after 4am, when I couldn't sleep anymore.  I was in touch with them intermittently until just before 7, when I sent a text saying I was ready for support.  I had started groaning through contractions.  I do remember that at some point I went outside to enjoy the fresh early morning air.  At this point in Melbourne, mornings and evenings were delightfully fresh, but the days could get quite warm.  The in-law's house is pretty closed up, so I went outside to enjoy the fresh air.  Everyone else in the house was still sleeping.

Last day of pregnancy... EVER. 39+3 and baby is on the way! 

A little funny actually... at some point between 4 and 6 Daddy J woke up and saw me out of bed.  He looked at me a bit funny, and I said, "Do you know what time it is?" He sat up slightly, at attention.  I continued, "It's baby time!"  He said, "NOW?"  I explained, no, not NOW, but today.  He laid back down, rolled over and went back to sleep.  Ha!  I guess that's a 4th-time dad right there, knowing how precious sleep is.

I timed my contractions for the midwives a bit.  They were about a minute long and anywhere from 2 to 5 minutes apart.  Things seemed like they were progressing the way I would expect.  I would have thought we would have had a baby by lunchtime.  BBV woke up and wanted to nurse.  So we did that.

I actually sent this picture to my girlfriends,
who I had been messaging all along.

Things get blurry for me.  The midwives arrived and set up their stuff.  I remember MIL making them coffee, for which they were very grateful.  They checked me.  They talked to me.  They checked the baby's heart rate.  Mostly everything was good.  I was doing a lot of resting.  I was resting so much that they ended up going for a walk.  Then I think they came back and checked me again, and ended up going to the mall.  They had some lunch and did some shopping, I think.  Meanwhile, contractions had spaced out considerably but were still very intense when they happened.  The midwives had me resting, in all sorts of positions which might help to settle the baby into a better birthing position.  I was hanging out on the yoga ball, laying on my side, and more.  The midwives and Daddy J were doing all kinds of things for me including using the rebozo method to shake my belly, giving counter pressure on my lower back and hips and massaging and stimulating pressure points on my calves, ankles, and feet.

Helping with some kind of positioning...

Counter pressure on the hips and back

Yes, we both slept holding hands.  We're cute like that. 

I was resting... but the whole time in my head, I was thinking, LET ME UP!  I want to get this baby out! 

The day was getting on.  I have no idea how my other kids spent that day.  I have no idea what my in-laws did.  I stayed in that room- either on the bed, the floor, or in the bathroom, for the whole day.  I found myself getting quite irritated that it seemed like nothing was happening.  Contractions were spacing further and further apart.  I was still just resting between them, but it felt like I was sleeping longer and longer stretches.   I was not amused that baby was not here yet.  And my midwives kept telling me to just rest, and to not worry if things stalled out completely.  I got the impression that they did not think this baby was going to be born any time soon.  Honestly, this bummed me out.  I'm sure they had their reasons for treating the situation as they did- they probably didn't want me to get exhausted and then not be able to labor the baby out.  But, I almost felt unsupported.

Around dinner time- about 6- the midwives said they were leaving to go get some food.  I was to stay in bed and rest, because maybe I would need my energy come midnight when things ramped up again.  I let them leave- and then I got up.  I decided to go to the bathroom anyway.  As soon as I was on the toilet I had more contractions.  And then, within a few minutes, my water broke.  Literally, the midwives had just left.  I told Daddy J to call them and tell them to come back.

When they came back, I was still laboring on the toilet.  As in all of my other labors, as soon as my water broke, I wanted to push. As soon as I wanted to push, the midwives wanted me off the toilet. At some point, they said that they had seen some meconium in the fluid, so, as always, that was a little worry. 

I went back into the bedroom and got on the bed.  I'm not sure if I labored in the same position the whole time, but, I think I was pretty much on my knees, resting my head on pillows at the head of the bed.  Eventually, this felt like I was too horizontal- I needed a bit more gravity on my side.  So I got slightly more upright, grabbing the top of the headboard and leaning against my hands.  I stayed here.  It was hot, dark, and quiet.  The room was just me, the 2 midwives and Daddy J.  It was too quiet, and it was weird that the kids weren't around.  The midwives were using really gentle, soft voices as well, but I couldn't HEAR them.  I remember at one point just saying really loudly, "WHAT?  WHAT DID YOU SAY?"  I was annoyed.  I wanted the baby out.

Finally, at 7:38pm, out he came.  I have a video of this moment, which I will not put on the internet for all to see.  It's pretty cool, and pretty gross, to see birth.  As for me, I could feel that he was coming.  The ring of fire is the moment in birth that I loathe.  It hurts so much, and I was dead set, I wasn't going to deal with it any longer than I had to.  So basically, when the head was really going, I put my mind to it, and I PUSHED.  His head came out, and the midwives were like, "Ok breathe!" and instead of breathing I just pushed.  And he flew out.  Daddy J was planning on catching him, but, at that moment it all happened so quickly, that the midwife had no choice but to get in there and catch.

As soon as he was out, I yelled, "Everyone come in here!"  Nobody had been there to witness the birth.  I mean, not the kids, and not MIL, who really wanted to be present.  *sigh* I guess I hadn't been clear enough about that- that everyone wanted to be there to see it happen.   Oh well.  I can show them the video at another time if they really want to see.

After yelling out, I turned myself over, and looked at the baby- and the first words out of my mouth were, "another penis!?!?"  The baby was a boy.  The baby I was SO SURE was a girl, was a boy.  I loved him instantly.  But I was shocked it was a boy.  Not disappointed.  Not angry.  Not let down.  Just plain shocked.  And completely in love.

Pure joy with my new baby.

Daddy J called Vecmamina right away, despite it being 2am in Denver. She got to virtually meet her grandson.

Then Daddy J did some skin to skin while I delivered the placenta.

And there you were, Johans Martins Smedes!  You were named by your father.  He chose your name, having found it in the Latvian book of names, but also liking it as a Dutch name as well.  Your middle name is for both your uncle and great-uncle, on my side of the family.  Both of them are great men, who you would be lucky to grow up anything like.  Born at 7:38pm on December 3, 2018, you weighed in at 4.2kg/9lbs6oz.  Your head was 36cm.  We didn't find out your length until almost a week later, at which point, you were 51cm/20in. 

Last sleep!

I'm laying in bed, knowing I should put the phone down and sleep....but I'm too excited.  Not quite tired enough.  Tomorrow morning we head to the airport nice and early to pick up Daddy J, BSB and BBZ.  I cannot wait!!!!  Its been 6 weeks since we were together which has been a LONG time.  It has definitely felt like parts of me were missing.  The big kids don't need me like they used to...but they do still need me.  And lord, I need them. I cannot wait to bear hug them all.
And then there is your dad.  The way in which I miss and need him is something else.  He is my rock.  He is part of what keeps me stable.  He brings joy to my life, a smile to my face, and love to my heart.  And sometimes he drives me crazy as well- but it's all part of it.  One doesn't realize the impact that certain people have on you until you take an extended break from them.  Your dad is my most favorite person, and I cannot wait to be with him again tomorrow.
Now, once these guys arrive, it means we're ready for you to arrive, sweet Magic.  We plan on having a wee celebration of BBV's birthday tomorrow afternoon, but other than that, we have no plans. 
It's not that I want to hurry you out.  Technically, you're not "due" until Friday (it'll only be Sunday), but, the sooner you're born, the more time we have with you before I have to go back to work.  Also, the more time we have to get all your paperwork, documents and passport in order. So it's not that I want you out- but- sooner would just be better. :)
That said, I know you're my last baby.  And I have LOVED being pregnant.  I have LOVED growing you and your siblings and I will miss so much about gestating once it's all over for the last time.  So, that said, there is a part of me that will mourn the end of our two-in-oneness.  I will absolutely miss feeling your kicks, your hiccups, your steady weight.  Even as things get increasingly uncomfortable- and they are- I will still be sad when it's over. 
The good thing is, I know there are other things to look forward to.  Your siblings are amazing people, and you are likely to grow into an amazing kid as well.  There is a lot of fun to be had.  There are cuddles and snuggles and firsts and lasts to experience.  And someday, if I'm lucky, I won't be birthing my own kids, but I'll be around when you and your siblings are having my grandkids, and then, it'll just be a whole new level of love for babies. 
So, Magic, come when you're ready.  As soon as we're home from the airport, you are awaited with open arms. 
Now off to that last sleep.

BBV turned 3!

This was the day I thought that maybe, just maybe, I would end up with two kids born on the same day, three years apart.  So many contractions that day.  And I thought, "hey, if you're gonna have kids with close birthdays, why not on the same day?"  It would have been ok.  And hella easy to remember!  Ha ha! 

I do wish you and BBV were slightly closer in age.  Obviously, there is nothing that can be done about it- but when I see the difference in the connection between BSB and BBZ vs BBZ and BBV, there is something to be said for being only 2 years apart rather than 3.  I think so anyway.  But it is what it is.  My fertility didn't even return until BBV was 2!  I can only hope to get so lucky after you're born.  Knowing that you are my last baby, I'll have no need for fertility after you're born... my period can stay away until you're 3! Ha!

We didn't celebrate BBV's birthday on his birthday.  We're waiting to do it on Sunday when Daddy J and BSB and BBZ arrive.  He doesn't know any different.  And he never will until he's old enough to read this blog post. Ha ha ha! Happy birthday, BBV!  You get to keep your own day!   

Whoever you are... we're ready!

Sweet baby Magic.  We're gonna love you so much no matter which of these clothes end up being more appropriate.  It's 3 more sleeps until your dad and older siblings arrive.  And lord, I really hope you come ASAP after them.  I just can't wait to meet you!

Trying to prepare for when you come

I had a chance to go shopping by myself yesterday, and along with looking for some birthday presents for BBV, I was also searching for some nursing clothes. I ended up buying this one dress because turns out I HATE the new nursing styles.  So this first pictured dress, in which I look 50 weeks pregnant, is the one thing I got. I took the funny picture, because, if you ask me, this style of pregnancy/nursing dress makes one's belly look 10 times bigger than it is.  I posted the same picture on facebook and yeah, people are shocked. :) Ha ha ha! 

 But see later, I took these photos, and I swear, the belly does not look as big! And yes, I'm rocking out this whole Super Mama thing as long as I can.  The shirt won't fit anymore once you're out, so, just claiming the title while I can.  There have to be some perks to having your 4th!

 You are gonna be a big baby, pretty sure. I mean, your brothers were both well over 9lbs.  I can't wait to meet you Magic! 

The guessing game

Oh lord.  It's happening.  We're in the guessing game period.  Contractions happen regularly.  They are painful-ish.  I went for a walk today and the contractions lasted the entire time I was on my feet. 
And then they lasted through dinner.
And while I bathed BBV. 
And on the couch after putting BBV to bed.

But then I laid down with BBV when he woke a few hours later and it all passed. 

So....guessing game.  Is this happening? Now? Tonight? Or will you wait until Sunday when your Dad and older siblings arrive?

It's anyone's guess really!