PDG Turns Four!

Well, it happened. My little baby PDG got all grown on me and now is a whopping four years old. He's still my little PDG Pie though, and I still want to eat him up!

At any rate, turning four apparently means a lot of celebrating. I mean, there was the sleepover the week before, and then the anticipation of a daily countdown from then until the 12th.

On Friday we took some cupcakes (because PDG insisted that this year he wanted cupcakes and cake) to his daycare. All the big kids happily sang to him, especially knowing they got a treat for having done absolutely nothing. That's the best part about birthdays right - getting treats just for existing? Even better when it's just for someone else existing.

Saturday PDG awoke fully aware it was the big day, and unable to contain his excitement. By the time Mama and Papa H arrived, we knew there'd be no nap. Instead, we made cupcakes.

Before the official party at 5pm, we had to give in and do some presents early because somebody just coud not wait another minute.

Sidenote: PDG's current fascination with puzzles is driving J-Man's fight against tiny toy pieces struggle to the limits.

We decided on a not-quite party this year. Paw Patrol ribbon, TMNT napkins, and Batman plates with a random pin the tail on the donkey and tons of fruit and pizza made for an odd assortment of decorations and a menu.

PDG loved it though. LOVED it. And with his very very best friend Lil O, as well as his neighborhood church crew and a happy-to-tag-along Charlie, it was the most kid activity our backyarad has seen yet. And by far the most our living room has endured. Thank heavens for Lego Movie on DVR to keep us warm as the sun started to set.

All in all, a great day celebrating a great kid.

And before I forget, his stats. He's 40lbs even - 81% - and 44 inches tall - 98%. He could answer most of the doctor's questions, but clearly I need to get him a tutor so he knows how to answer "what gallops?" next time. (Honestly, can doctors give us a cheat sheet ahead of time so I can teach to the test? Not that I do that as a teacher or anything, but my competitive edge totally took over and I really wanted my kid in the 99% in the 'random doctor questions at a checkup' category too. I'm just sayin'...)

Hugs and kisses to my big little baby.

MDG Turns TWO

I don't know when or how it happened, but MDG turned two!!!!!

(Ok, that's a lie, it happened on Dec. 2nd, but the how is still confounding me. Like, he was just born. I was just pregnant. He should still be my baby. Period)

A little bit about my MDG

He's big. He weighs almost 30 pounds (twenty-nine point something) 78% and measures right at 36in - 91%. Head size in the 50% but we blame that on J-Man :)

(Unrelated, anyone see that link going around facebook that using sideways smileys is not cool anymore? Just like using periods in text messages. Oh well. :))

MDG still doesn't really like to eat. I don't know how he's so giant when I swear all he does is drink milk. When I told the doctor he has four cups a day (actually five lots of days - I'm just not great at being 100% honest with doctors) she gasped aloud. So that's one goal, less milk. More water and food. He loves broccoli though. And fruit of all kinds. He's warming up to meat and other vegetables. He must eat at daycare. But when all else fails and your totally kid-friendly meal gets spurned while PDG inhales it and asks for seconds, MDG will go for a well-rounded plate of string cheese, yogurt, krab, clementines, and a gallon of milk.

He talks a lot now. He sings a version of the ABC's that just repeats ABC over and over, but he can throw in other letters when you sing with him. He thinks every letter he sees is a P and counts "one, two, seven, three" more often than not. He's expanded his color guessing to go "green? purple? green? blue? green? purple?" To help him out we often ask him about something green or purple when he gets frustrated.

When you cough or sneeze he'll ask if you're ok, and also right after he tackles J-Man. Before he tackles J-Man he'll usually ask "ready?" too. The answer doesn't affect the impending full-body flinging. He likes to help "wakie up" the Santa and snowman decorations in our yard, and will ask if it's good morningtime when I go in at 5:30 to get them dressed. He pops up with a smile and is ready to start the day. I'm telling you, he may look like an H, but he's got G genes dominating in the personality.

He's pretty into Super Y, Daniel Tiger, and Elmo on TV, and then anything his brother is playing with for toys. He had a brief scared-of-bugs phase a month or so ago, but unlike with his brother's, I was totally calm this go-round.

MDG continues to be our passionate child with the high highs and the low lows and no middle ground. He lights up our lives and I can't imagine life without him. Happy (belated) birthday to my darling, not-so-baby boy.

About July...

So I woke up before 6am this morning and thought to myself, I miss blogging.

Really, I miss writing. That's half the reason I blog anyway. It's fun to write, and I'm a little less insane when I do it consistently - hence the overloaded handwritten journals of the early 2000s stuffed in random places around my childhood home.

Speaking of which, I discovered my journals from 3rd and 4th grade a month ago. Amazing.

So for the few minutes until the rest of the family awakens, let me begin a three month summary of life with the G's.

July
The babies and I flew to see Big Sis and celebrate our sweet new Baby C. She was tiny and precious and made me have all those feelings about how newborns are such miracles which naturally made my latent hormones say MAKE ANOTHER ONE OF THESE STAT!!! Then it would be time for a feeding or I'd see my sister's eyes after a rough night and my brain would scream back SHOP STILL CLOSED!!!

Big Sis had a rough go of July, so I was glad to get to see her and know that she was recovering from all the craziness. I got jealous of her beautiful big house that made living with your parents and sister's family for a week right after having a newborn somehow not the worst thing in the world. I tried to convince her that I didn't need to see any sights in town this visit, I just wanted to hang out with her and her growing family, and also not die of heat exhaustion. So there were sprinklers, and bubble baths, and a weird board game with a name I forget and lots of HGTV to pass the time. The week was fantastic, but far too short.

Back in our own house, we beat the heat with Camp Nicole some more, and bought a little kiddie pool that our little kiddies loved. Ok, that's a lie. PDG loved it. MDG thought about loving it, decided he hated it, and then after enough coercion decided sure, why not, I guess I could kinda love it.

The weekend before Grandma S came to town, the check engine light came on our beloved Pathfinder. Yes, the one I learned to drive on back in the late '90s. More on that saga another post.

We drove our new vehicle (you're in suspense, aren't you? I knew it! Ha!) to Ocean City where this family of non-water people did the best we could creating beach memories for the future. And it was all well and good until a stupid bug bite on my arm started turning puffy and red with streaks going all over the place. J-Man was sure it was nothing. Grandma S was certain I was dying. I was in the middle thinking it looked weird, but surely it could wait until vacation was over.

We arrived at Grandma S's friend's house in Annapolis on the last day of our vacation where, within 30 seconds of seeing my arm, she was telling me I had an infection trying to get into my bloodstream and needed to be on antibiotics within hours or else I'd be hooked up to IVs in a hospital like someone else I know had to be once before. Even though she's a nurse, it still sounded a little cuckoo, but I listened and sent J-Man straight to the pharmacy as she called it in.

If you're thinking all this still sounds pretty normal, throw in Grandma S having debilitating back spasms and her friend disappearing for four hours right after this moment because her dog was hemorrhaging and all of us hanging out at her house with her three dogs, praying my toddlers don't destroy anything. And, oh yeah, the dog got put to sleep before she got back so she called to insist we cook her food and eat dinner at her house without her. It wasn't the antibiotics making me feel a little dizzy...

In the end, there was swimming in the pool and smores in the fire pit and the swollen red streaks never hit my lymph nodes. July ended as fast as it always does and we moved onward into the final weeks of summer.

MDG 14 Months

Whoa, January, where'd you go? Did I miss you while hanging out in the bathroom with PDG? Or sleeping in during all those unnecessary 2-hour delays? Maybe you happened when this guy grew up even more?!

Seriously, this is getting to be too much.  MDG is adding words now. Like his super-talkative big brother. "Mama" and "eat-eat" (his caregiver uses that term a lot, like 'ok boys, time to eat-eat, put away your toys') are the newest on the list.

No new teeth, still four and four, but his appetite is getting intense. Just ask anyone who has ever fed him berries.  Or popcorn. And, my curiosity has almost taken me to give him a straw and a gallon of milk and see what happens. Except, I think he might drink it all and throw up. Which I'd have to clean up. And my doctor would have to remind me only 24-30oz maximum, not the 35-40 he'd prefer, is all this boy actually needs.

with our friend Baby C

He's got rhythm. He's got a fast little waddle. He's got pulling his pants down in inappropriate situations. He's his father's son.

(you decide just how related those last four sentences are. just kidding. or am I?)

 But for real, he's still our social, happy baby big boy who sleeps hard, plays harder, and smiles hardest.

The Surgery Story

This post gets another *Uterus Talk Disclaimer*

So, I left a few of you hanging with my post last month about my possibly missing IUD. I've tried to fill many of you in, but in case we haven't gotten to chat about my insides, let me share a story full of Christmas Magic.

The day after I wrote last I received a call from my doctor's office saying they needed to see me that day because they had located the IUD but couldn't discuss it over the phone. I guess legal reasons? I don't know. That's a pretty crappy phone call to receive.

Once in the office, with both boys at my side, my doctor (Dr S, the one who did all but the last hour of PDG's delivery and whom I trust most in the practice) informed me that my Mirena really had escaped my uterus and was just chillin' in my pelvis. He told me it happens very rarely, but that the fix was pretty simple - a laparascopy. (If you're unfamiliar, which I was, it's a procedure where they do two small incisions, one for a tiny camera with a light, and the other for the instrument, in my case forceps, to do whatever small work needs to be done in your lower abdomen) He also offered to insert a new IUD while he was in there, and do it with the camera so there could be no question about its placement like the other method allows. No pressure though. He was just presenting options.

For some reason, I agreed.  Had I known the rest of the story, maybe I wouldn't have.  But what happened to me is rare, and I just couldn't fathom this craziness happens twice.  Plus, for however long it was in there, I had no bad side effects. Well, except its escape. Which maybe should trump any others?  Who knows...  I thought about it and decided I really didn't want a pill or patch so like a semi-crazy person, I said yeah, let's try again and hope for the best. 

Oh, and somewhere in there Dr S playfully told me how lucky I am to not have given my (thankfully well-behaved) boys a sister for Christmas since who knows how long the IUD had been out of commission. For the first time ever I was a little grateful for my PCOS and infertility struggles since they'd been more protective than my actual birth control. 

We scheduled the procedure for two weeks later (I felt better knowing it wasn't an emergency) and I tried not to be my typical anxiety-ridden self in the meantime.

The morning of the surgery came and Mama H drove me in while Papa H kept the boys. I had a great team of nurses and assistants get me ready for the OR, and even moments before going back Dr. S was being jovial with me and telling me he anticipated we should be in and out in ten minutes. All they'd need to do was quickly blow up my tummy, make the incisions, pluck out the old and insert the new. They might not even need to do the breathing tube.

According to the text updates from Mama H to Big Sis, ten minutes was actually one hour. Turns out that sneaky IUD wasn't in my pelvis anymore. Nope. It was up in my ribcage. Thankfully not poking anything important, but just a little below my heart/lungs. 

Yeah, let that soak in.  

So, already bothered by the fact it had escaped, Dr S wanted to be sure I didn't have any tears in my uterus, or any scar tissue to be dealt with if it truly had escaped many months ago. Turns out I had neither.  That's right. No proof whatsoever that this thing had ever escaped at all.

If you're wondering, well was it ever even in there? - it was. A month after insertion they had me come in for a checkup, and when he realized the strings weren't there, we did a quick ultrasound and it was snug as a bug where it should be. Not where we found it 10 months later like a birth control ninja.

I only vaguely remember talking to Dr S in Recovery, though Mama H tells me he said he has only ever had to do a removal like this twice, and the other time it had not gotten far like it had for me. Overall, I was an anomaly in his career and he still couldn't understand how it physically happened.

As for me, I guess I've grown ok with it all. I have the new IUD and have a checkup this week.  I took a bunch of percosets those first days and was definitely grumpy mcgrumperson when I went back to work (admittedly a day earlier than I probably should have). As for the future, assuming this lil guy doesn't also magically run off, I'll keep it in for the five years.  But then, that'll be it. Unless they can surgically insert it again so I have the peace of mind that it's in ideal position, I'm not doing this again. Maybe it'll be time to tie my tubes?  Or J-Man's? Or maybe we'll go for number 3? Only time will tell I guess.

One Year of MDG

Our little baby is a big boy!

It seems like only yesterday this tiny little being sprang into our lives, melting our hearts and destroying our sleep. And yet, here we are a year later, unable to fathom our lives without this toddling little music-loving, kiss-giving, drool-sputtering boy.

As with PDG, we kept the celebration pretty low key, with just a couple friends and then Mama and Papa H.  MDG devoured the entirety of his cupcake so quickly and carefully I found myself looking around for where he might've dropped it. His big brother and friend did manage to open his gifts for him when the grownups were distracted, but a little retaping and then MDG got a turn as well.  All in all, a simple birthday success.

As for what he's up to...

MDG took his first walk across the room later in the day on his 11 month mark.  He'd been toddling a couple steps here or there, but from that first walk onward, his lopsided crawling became a thing of the past.

His third top tooth poked through last month, with hints of more just barely under the surface. It seems enough to get him interested in meat - which it's weird that he doesn't love considering his carnivorous brother and father. Otherwise, still a good eater and an intense milk guzzler (which the doctor kindly suggested we start to curb back from his whopping 35oz/day intake recently)

J-Man cut off his hair in anticipation of the birthday (though not before Christmas Card pics) Lollipops calmed the crying at times, but clearly not 100%.

Oh, but his sleep is finally good. Like, for real good. Which is only making this weird nostalgia I have for pregnancy and more babies all the more confounding.  No - we still don't plan on having more. But, this is the exact age PDG was when I got pregnant with MDG and now I remember why it was so easy to jump back into that madness. When they sleep and give kisses and eat food and get excited to see you at the end of the day, why wouldn't you want more?

Except, you know, money and time and a billion other totally acceptable reasons.

So for now, it's total toddler takeover in the G house.

Midsection Mania

First, a warning: If talk of uteruses and intestines makes you queasy or uncomfortable, this is not the post for you.

That being said, I'll proceed.

This week was a rough one on the insides of us G's.

First, PDG swallowed a penny. Yep. This guy

He loves 'moneys' and was admiring the coin while lying on his back. A few moments later he coughed super hard and looked visibly upset, so we grabbed him fearing he might need the heimlich. He didn't, thank heavens, but he did start crying "where is it? where'd it go? I want it!" while sticking out his tongue.

Despite wanting to slide into denial about what had just happened, J-Man and I confronted it head on. We poured a cup of apple cider and called it  "special penny juice." J-Man slid me another penny which I held in my hand, visible once he finished his "treat" under the glass. In PDG's mind, he had managed to drink a delicious drink and magically bring the penny back from his belly.

In our minds we began wondering how long it takes for a coin to navigate a two year old's digestive tract and would he be ok?

The answers, we later discovered, were five days and yes.

But, as if that weren't enough midsection mayhem for us, it got worse.

During my annual trip to the lady doctor (which, when you have two kids in twenty months becomes so much more than annual that the receptionists call you 'family' and get excited at the prospect there could be a #3 - which there isn't by the way) they suggested doing another sonogram to check on my Mirena.  Let's just say that the usual way you're supposed to check on an IUD had disappeared, so a follow up appointment was scheduled.

Well, I showed up to the office's new sono lab and did the whole deal. It was far less nerve-wracking while not wondering boy-or-girl? or is-the-heart-spot-gone? or is-there-a-heartbeat? type questions.

At least, it was.

Until, after reconfirming my PCOS and doing both the easy and the uncomfortable types of scans, she looked at me all serious and said "I have to be honest. I don't see it."

Next step - call in the docs. Next step - use words like "possibly in your abdomen" and "possibly expulsed" and "might need to scope it out" and "x-ray."

Ugh

So, yeah, off I went to radiology, where I had to sign papers swearing I wasn't pregnant and that if I were, it isn't their fault if I miscarry due to the x-ray (which was strangely really emotional) before they finally let me get it taken. I tried to tell her that two docs and a sonographer had just been all up in my uterus, if there'd been a baby we would've noticed it, but she was "just doing her job."

Most telling quote of the visit: "Oh there it is. Or, well, maybe. I don't know, we'll send it to the doctor to say for sure. That's why they get paid the big bucks."

So where is the IUD now? Good question.

Hopefully, like the penny, it's figured out an exit plan.  After all, I really don't want to go back and ask Dr. S just what he meant by "scope it out."

Yeah. No thanks.

Hello Pill, we meet again after five years.

MDG at 6 Months

This guy turned six months old!!!

First, the stats. He weighed in at 17lb 4oz (44%) and 27.25in (76%). Long and lean I guess. Head size somewhere in the 60s for percentile but I never pay much attention to that one.

The doc gave him some toys to 'play' with and I guess he did well. Grabbing, using both hands, turning towards the sound of a bell, putting everything right into his mouth.

now both boys can play with toys at the park

We have a go-ahead for more solids which I think should make him happy. While I love some aspects of nursing, the every two hours schedule he set has been a pain at times, so knowing it will gradually dwindle over the summer is good news. So is the idea of no more pumping over the summer! My fellow nursing teachers are all expressing this same excitement for vacation. (Expressing. Ha! No pun intended.)

As for MDG and his development, he sits like a champ. He still pretty much only rolls belly to back but prefers to get up on hands and knees and rock like nobody's business. Will he ever go anywhere? Time will tell. For now we get a kick out of watching.

He hates peas, loves fruits, and is neutral on cereals. He enjoys baths when PDG doesn't splash too much, and he smiles at everyone, even when he feels crummy.

He's finally sleeping until 3:30 or 4 most nights, when healthy, and that makes life grand.

Overall, things are looking up. Hello 6 months. Let the fun months begin!

Baby Stomach Bug Times Two - and Jerky

The Scene:
3pm on a Wednesday.  MDG and PDG have both recently awoken from naps.  PDG is on the couch strangely disinterested in goldfish crackers, a typical favorite. I am changing MDG's diaper in the nursery and checking to be sure he doesn't have a fever to accompany the morning's vomiting (the reason we're home in the first place on a Wednesday at 3pm)

Me: Ok, MDG, no fever. Let's grab a diaper.

PDG (arriving at the top of the stairs): Belly hurts

Me: Thats right, MDG's belly does hurt. That's why...

(I look down to see MDG pooping all over the changing table, his outfit, the clean diaper I just grabbed and my hand)

Me: Yuck!

PDG: Mommy, belly hurt!

Me: Just a second sweetie, MDG is going poop-poop everywhere.  Oh, and it just keeps coming!

PDG: Mommy! (insert intense vomiting noises here) (now insert terrified toddler crying) (some more vomit noises as toddler is quickly shuffled to the toilet that he manages to miss) (more confused crying)(a mother's exasperated when-will-it-end sigh)(a little more vomit)(a shoulder shrug from a confused toddler before much more crying)

Me: Ok, everybody, clothes off.  Let's take a bubble bath.

PDG: Bath?

MDG: (adorable baby giggles before one last runny mustard poop)

End Scene

Been there?  If you have 2+ kids or 2+ siblings then quite likely.  Grrr-oss!!

As for the backstory, here goes.  Tuesday night is J-Man's night to feed MDG.  It gives me a break once a week to get slightly less interrupted sleep.  It's been going great, but with our new allowance of some crying (with hopes of self-soothing), it was more disjointed than usual this week.  MDG woke more than he has been and even PDG woke once at 1am, an extreme rarity.  He usually embraces sleep even better than I do.

After MDG's 5am wake up feed he threw up a good bit on me.  It was a little alarming, but I figured he just was a little piggy and ate too much since I was engorged from having taken the night off.  I still got him dressed for daycare, finished dressing myself, got PDG dressed and headed out.  I told Miss S that he'd thrown up more than usual but also gave my diagnosis.  She said to keep my phone handy but he was probably fine.

Clearly, he wasn't.  He threw up his whole 8:30 bottle.  Everywhere. So by 9:30 I was finding coverage for my classes, plopping in The Lion King in Spanish and rushing to pick up my boys.

The doctor wasn't too concerned since there was no fever and another daycare toddler was out that day having thrown up the night before.  Probably just a bug.  I was told to nurse often and watch for signs of dehydration.

Not that any of that stopped my crazy-anxious brain from diagnosing my son with a rare banana allergy that manifested itself in delayed and incomplete symptoms.  Then, oh the guilt I felt for starting him on solids at the beginning end of the recommended 4-6 month range.   Was I a terrible mom?  Did MDG have something scary and complicated wrong with him?

After spending the afternoon nursing nearly every 30 minutes and taking mini catnaps during PDG's nap we arrived at the scene above.  A projectile stomach flu explosion. A cleanup nightmare.

So how did we solve it?

Frozen.

For me as much as for them.

Luckily, there was a little more silver lining to the day.  Thanks to my good friend M, back from her honeymoon, we were able to send J-Man a special Jerky delivery that looked like this.

And the best news of all, knock on wood, is that both J-Man and I managed to avoid this particular illness.  So far.

Checkup: 4 and 24 months

This past week I took PDG and MDG to a combined doctor's appointment.  In theory it made things easier to just have one long appointment instead of two separate ones.  Plus it meant only taking a half day from my nearly nonexistent sick leave.

In actuality, the appointment might've been more exhausting than teaching 6th period would have been.  And that was with PDG being a superstar listener and getting compliments on his temperament.

Much like PDG's 4 month appointment, the doctor was running late.  I answered all the nurse's questions while trying to strip two boys down to diapers.  We got them measured and weighed and then just waited. 

Thank heavens for sticker books.  Otherwise there would have undoubtedly been meltdowns.  Mama G and PDG alike.

So - the stats.  PDG weighs 31lbs 2oz and measures 36in.  That's 88th and 91st percentiles.  Little man isn't all that little!

MDG weighs 16lbs and measures 25.25in, right around 60th percentile for both.  Somehow I thought he'd be bigger.

Both are healthy.  MDG's cradle cap is finally gone, thanks to Aquafor, and PDG's eczema is getting better with the same treatment.  MDG got the go ahead for solids and supposedly his sleep isn't *that* bad.

Overall both boys are fantastic.  And despite the crying that did ensue while trying to get them both dressed again post-shots, we survived the trip pretty unscathed.

As for likes and dislikes, here's what we've got:

MDG's likes: tummy sleeping, rolling belly-to-back, being nosey, smiling, laughing, jumparoo/exersaucers, rice cereal, MAM pacifiers, watching PDG play

MDG's dislikes: his carseat, not being able to see people, being on his back for any reason at all

PDG's likes: talking nonstop, saying letters and numbers, juice when he gets it, riding on toys, climbing anything, 'belly beans,' books, helmets, attempting tee-ball, stickers, babbling while falling asleep (no more mr. giraffe), being outside, his best friends Noah at daycare and Owen on the weekends, brushing teeth, his grandparents, entertaining MDG

PDG's dislikes: coming inside for dinner, leafy vegetables (still), getting into his carseat, getting dressed in the mornings

MDG at Two Months

It's been a rough go of things here lately.  Hence the month-long hiatus.  But, as it has been pointed out to me recently, writing is good for me when life is throwing lemons, so here goes.

Rather than elaborating on how I haven't been so happy and why, let's talk about MDG.

He had his two month check up recently and weighed in at a whopping 13lb 4oz - nearly double birth weight!  That puts him at 75th percentile. His pediatrician was pleased and suggested that we start to wean from those night feedings so that by 3 months, by which time he'll certainly be 14lbs (her magic number) he will sleep 10 hours straight.  We've been working on dropping that first feeding and can now sometimes get from 9pm-5:30am with one nursing session.  But he is still waking at least once more for some love and attention too.  I know there are a billion theories on baby sleep.  I have no clue which ones really apply to this baby.  So, given the sadness going on, we're prioritizing mama's sleep and just making it work until he's more like 4 months and can handle self-soothing and crying it out.  So yeah, he does still sleep in the swing more often than I'd care to actually admit.

these swaddle sacks save my life

He was more average for height at 23" and has started wearing some 6month sleepers already.  I'm trying to get him as many wears in his adorable 0-3 month outfits as possible, but along with moving into size 2 diapers last week, he's outgrowing these clothes too.

Not that two month olds do much, he does the normal things.  Follows us with his eyes. Coos plenty.  And unlike his big brother at this age, gives away smiles for free. Just smiling at him can get a huge one back in response.  It's really quite fabulous.

minutes before his appt and shots

We had a brief anxiety-inducing issue when he started daycare and refused bottles, but he's doing pretty well with them again now.  I think he was just stubbornly waiting for the real deal before realizing eight hours on just four or five ounces wouldn't make anybody happy.  Now it's more like 12-16oz, a manageable number I can pump without dipping into the freezer just yet.

Oh, and he takes a paci with no trouble now.  Crazy, right?  He's been congested with some germs that PDG likely hacked all over him, but besides when the snot blocks his breathing easily, he really likes the soothing pacifiers.

Overall, he's healthy and happy.  Just not a sleeper.  And given how he looks like his daddy, there's a good chance that this poor sleeping thing might also be a link the two of them share.  If so, pray for us all.  Seriously :)

Welcome MDG

There are a million things to say about the last two weeks, so I'll start at the very beginning.

I woke up in a foul mood.  Perhaps it was the rocky sleep from the night before.  Most likely it was everything on my mind that I mentioned in the last post.

J-Man, Mama H and I headed out early for my 6:30 induction.  Of course, because no birth story can be without surprises, we arrived to find that there were no empty beds. In retrospect, I took the news pretty well.  I simply wouldn't accept that the baby wasn't coming that day.  Period.  So as they hooked me up to some monitors in triage and did all the question-asking, I stayed calm.

By 10:30 I was in my own room and had been told that I was barely at a one, despite what the doctor the week before had told me (maybe she had tiny fingers?) so they wouldn't start pitocin until they started some other gel first.  It started with a p, or maybe a d?  Anyway, it got things moving.  J-Man and Mama H stayed by my side as the contractions picked up.

At 2pm Dr. M (who delivered PDG) came in to break my water.  I was more nervous this time since I hadn't yet gotten my epidural.  To my surprise, it wasn't so bad.  I might've taken it a bit too well though, since when I asked my nurse about 15 minutes later if I could get my epidural yet, the doctor responded to her "not yet."

The next two hours were pretty awful.  Sure it had taken me 3.5 hours to get from 1cm to 3cm but with the way those contractions were coming - faster and faster and stronger and stronger - I knew progress was happening unlike before.  I practically had to beg to eventually get the epidural.  Was it just that Dr. M. wanted me to know what the whole can't-walk-or-talk-through contraction felt like?  Because I learned.  And my body kept teaching me every 2-3 minutes.

At 3:51 I signed for my epidural and after what felt like an eternity (but probably wasn't) a questionable anesthesiologist administered it.  She also told me I might have mild scoliosis.  Ok.  Sure.  Maybe.  But is now the time to tell me?  Weird.

When that experience was over my nurse, Carlee (who was great) added the pitocin and the contraction-o-meter started to go off the charts.  Which would've been fine, if, just maybe, the epidural had kicked in right away.  But, next surprise, it hadn't.  So despite getting a cute tingle in my legs, my abdomen still felt every single tightening for the next long while.

Carlee had checked me around 4:30 and told me I was at an 8, but by 5:15 or so I was pretty sure I had to be complete.  She fiddled with a catheter and did some things on my chart as I finally started to get a little pain relief.  Maybe that's why I wasn't more annoyed that yet again it felt like no one was listening.

I told her I wanted to push so at 5:40 she checked again and said, "oh, yeah, his head is right here." So much for a catheter

J-Man asked, "so this baby should come in the next couple hours?" remembering the 2.5 hour pushing marathon from PDG's delivery.

"He might be here by 6" she answered, and stuff got real.

Despite the annoyances of the morning and early afternoon, I was finally in less pain and able to focus on the beautiful task at hand.  With J-Man on one side, Mama H on the other, and Carlee giving me encouragement, I started pushing just before 6pm.  Unlike before, I could feel what my body was doing each step of the way.  I was fully aware when my doctor - now Dr. S due to a shift change - came in and began suiting up.  I noticed when the other nurses entered.  I could listen and adapt as Dr. S told me to hold or push again.  And in a few slow motion moments I was able to witness as this tiny son of mine entered the world.  First his small, squished, perfect head, suctioned and crying, then his neck and shoulders, wrapped once by his umbilical cord, and finally the rest of his purple, wiggly, perfect body.

I was focused as they lay his precious body right on top of mine, and as my J-Man once again cut the cord.

I felt his tiny hands, his tiny feet, and thanked God that I was once again an agent in a miracle.

I don't think I've ever felt as empowered and meant to do something as I did during those 25 minutes of pushing.  Just the night before I had doubted my body.  But right then, as our Malcolm Davis came into the world, I couldn't have felt more proud of it.

Eventually they took him to the other side of the room to quickly measure and weigh him - 7lbs even 19inches - but quickly they returned him to my chest to nurse and snuggle with his mama.

Since then, MDG has proven to be very little like his big brother aside from looks.  He has us guessing every day, and night, but one thing is for sure: he is absolutely who is supposed to be in our family.  He belongs here. Right here. With his Mama G, his Papa G, and his big brother PDG.

We couldn't feel more complete.  I couldn't feel more in love.

Me and my three G boys.  Let the adventures as a family of four begin