Father's Day 2010

welcoming our man

He's here!

Liam Michael Smalley

May 25, 2010

9:40 p.m.

8 lbs. 10 oz., 23 inches

We love our man beyond belief. It was quite a journey getting him here (in more ways than one), and I know I will never, ever be the same, now that I have my two babies with me forever. In my overwhelming moments, I know that at least if I died tomorrow, I would have known true love in my life in so many forms, through my husband and the gifts of our two children.

I'm one for gory details, and I have been yearning to write down Liam's birth story since he was born, as it has been the thing it has taken me the longest to adjust to and recover from. Let's just say his birth was NOTHING like Maura's. Here goes...

So, I was supposed to be induced on Monday, May 24th. My mom came into town on the Friday before to help take care of Maura while we were in the hospital. All weekend I was having major contractions and lots of cramping and pressure, and I almost thought for sure I would go into labor on my own. Needless to say, I didn't. Monday morning arrived, and I called the hospital at 6 a.m. as instructed to confirm that they would have space for me. I was told the Friday before by my favorite nurse when I was at the hospital for an NST that there is always a chance that the induction would be delayed or bumped if L & D was too full, but that it rarely happened. She said sometimes people were delayed a few hours but almost never were bumped until the next day.

Just my luck of course, at 6 a.m., they said they had had a crazy night and to call back at 9:30 when they would have a better sense of when I should come in. 9:30 I call, they say to call back in 30 minutes. 10:00 I call, and they tell me to come in for an ultrasound and biophysical profile and then they would decide whether it was necessary to induce me right then or whether I was safe to come back tomorrow. We loaded up our bags, kissed Maura goodbye, and headed to the hospital, only to be home 3 hours later after all the tests came back fine and they determined I could wait until the next day.

I tried to be so understanding and nice to everyone I saw at the hospital, because they all felt terrible about having to delay me after such anticipation. I was, apparently, a once in a long while exception to the general practice of everyone getting induced on their actual scheduled day.

In the end, Tuesday morning came along fast enough and we were off. I was excited more than anything else, and convinced, after my past doctor's appointments and my dilatation, that things would go moderately well, if not quickly and smoothly.

Of course again, I was wrong.

I was hooked up to the pitocin by 9 a.m., and when they came in to check me to get a baseline, I started to get a little nervous. I hadn't dilated any further, was no more effaced, and the baby was high, higher than they originally thought. My Bishop Score was a 5, which basically means on a scale of 1 to 10, 10 being the most likely for a successful induction, I only had a 50% chance of success (meaning a vaginal delivery without a c-section).

The morning went well, fairly slowly in fact, with the contractions picking up but not too painful. I was dilating slowly, but they pushed for the epidural earlier rather than later in case I shot up fast, which they were still thinking would happen. So by 1 p.m., they were there to numb me up. Which, given the days track record, again did not go well.

They couldn't find the "sweet spot." It took a full hour and two attempts to get the needle in the right place, and right away, I knew things weren't going to go well. I never got fully numb like I remember I did with Maura, and within 10 minutes of them letting Jay back in and them cleaning up,I started to feel like I was going to pass out, likely a combination of the epi and of my vasovagel syncope. Sure enough, they took my blood pressure, and it was low -- like 65/40 low. VERY low. They all kind of panicked and I started crying, knowing it wasn't good. Within a minute they had given me meds to keep me from passing out and to help the nausea, which was unbearable. They kept telling me that this was normal, that lots of people had issues with blood pressure and epi's, but it still felt very surreal and I was very worried I would lose consciousness.

After about a half hour they stabilized me, although my blood pressure remained low, and between contractions that I still felt, I tried to rest. I was really out of it for a while, and my next real memories were around 5:30 p.m., when they checked me again and said I was 10 cm and that it was time to push. I remember being shocked, thinking I wasn't really ready for it yet, because I didn't have that distinctive pressure that signals it's time. But again, my delivery with Maura was so easy because she was so small that I kept trying not to compare.

I must interject and say that both doctors I had been with that day manually checked my belly and said they though the baby was around 7 lbs...

So in my head, we started pushing out a 7 lb. baby. The nurse called the doctor and the pediatrician (when they broke my water there was meconium in the fluid so they needed to take precautions), and I started pushing. Everyone geared up and turned out lights and prepared the warmer and was ready to go.

Within about 15 minutes, I knew it wasn't working. The doctor had an irritated look on her face, the nurses were sort of half helping, and I could just tell I was a ways a way. Sure enough I was, the baby was not coming down. They told me I needed to labor down and save my strength for when I could really push him out. So I sat up and stared to labor down.

At which point, my epidural wore off.

The pain was unimaginable. For the next three hours and 40 minutes that I labored down and pushed, I was the woman everyone dreads. I was screaming, moaning, losing my sense of reality, floating in an out of awakeness, blood pressure dropping, crying, ready to give up. They had to bring the anesthesiologist back to give me more of the epi, but my blood pressure was so low they didn't want to do too much. I remember focusing on Jay's face, as we were often left alone since it was taking so long. I remember the doctor and nurses telling me not to scream, that I was wasting my energy, to get mad, to keep pushing, and I thought for sure (as I imagine most woman do) that I couldn't do it any more. They brought out a mirror to let me see the head coming down, telling me to look for motivation. I looked; all I could see was swelling and blood and pure pain. It was truly, truly bad.

There was all of a sudden talk of shoulder dysplasia, a "big" baby, a baby stuck and unable to "turn the corner." I snapped out of it at the point that everyone in the room, maybe 6 people, all looked at Jay and said "TURN YOUR HEAD!" I saw the scissors come up, and they told me I had torn but the baby was lodged and they had to cut me open. I know they gave me a local; I could feel everything.

3 hours and 40 minutes after I started pushing, out he came with a huge scream from both of us, almost 2 lbs. bigger than anyone expected. I was literally delerious with relief. They took forever to get him to me, like more than a half hour, and this time they didn't let Jay cut the cord. He wasn't in distress, but because of the meconium, they had to give him oxygen and a few more tests, it seems. I just kept asking for him, wanting him in my arms. I was so hot, so tired, and my placenta was taking forever to come out. They kept telling me I had to keep pushing, and I at that point, I didn't care if they had to stick their arms up me to drag it out. I wanted it over, and I wanted my baby.

And then I got him.

He was perfect. Huge. The tallest baby anyone had seen. My mind was finally clear. He looked up at me, so alert, so ready for me. I was in love all over again.

The only thing that seemed the same as Maura's birth was the deleriousness that followed having him in my arms. Jay fed him while they kept cleaning me up, we made some calls, they gave us a new room, I took a shower, Jay and I cuddled in the tiny hospital bed while he went to the nursery for the night.

There are tons more details, but you get the idea. It was tough, amazing, sad and happy all at the same time, to put it mildly. I never hesitated or was concerned that I wouldn't have enough love to share with two babies. And that has remained my reality.

We came home from the hospital early, and there have been the standard adjustments, maybe even amplified more because Maura was such a different baby in so many ways and he's not a typical second child in that way. He's more alert more awake, more vocal. I'd forgotten how anxiety provoking a newborn's screams can be. But after a tough two weeks, I can say I feel strong, ready and happy. None of the tears like last time. Less of the anxiety. To be honest, I worry more about Maura than him. She's a wonderful big sister, pretty much ignoring him save a sweet attempt at covering him with a blanket or handing him a binkie. I've tried to rest, to spread myself between both children and Jay, and to take care of myself. It's been wonderful, in ways I will never be able to fully express, to have this time with Jay and the babies. Of course, I can't imagine how I'll ever return to work. But I will and I know we'll adjust all over again. But right now, even though I'm tired, unshowered, and at the moment, wearing a nightgown over my capri cargo pants because I was having hot flashes but am too tired to get fully ready for bed, I know these moments are the best of my life, and I feel lucky that they are mine.

wow

Well, I lied (unintentionally) about the update...more than a few days has passed. Life kind of took off on us...

Today I am 38w3d, and the baby will receive his eviction notice on Monday, the 24th, at 7:30 a.m. at 39w1d. I'm going to be induced, and as my doctor says, "have a baby by lunchtime." We'll see about that. The past three weeks have been a whirlwind -- we finally finished the baby's room (never try to use dark paint on walls when you have a popcorn ceiling that prohibits a straight edge), got him some clothes of his own, borrowed the swing and bouncy seat and packed my hospital bag. Tomorrow is my last day of work.

I've been dilated and effaced since week 36, so we had a bit of a panic that he was going to come quicker than we anticipated. I've heard every story in the book about how women can walk around dilated to 3 cm for weeks before giving birth, but when it's you, it's different. You feel like you have days, minutes, not weeks. And I have been very nervous about who was going to stay with Maura, how that would all be arranged if I went into labor in the middle of the night, etc. etc. My mom is coming on Friday night to be here to watch Maura, and I feel finally at ease that things will be taken care of without the chaos of a middle-of-the-night labor.

Now, watch me go into labor tonight.

I've had lots of Braxton Hicks contractions, and a few regular ones, but nothing consistent or painful enough to be real labor. That's what's dilating me more, so I'm at least pleased that my body is making progress. The baby is very, very low (my doctor was actually feeling his head during my exam a few weeks ago) and that's more freaky than anything else. He gets angry when I have the contractions, and it feels like he's so low he's going to crawl himself out.

And as you can see from my belly:

He's big. Plenty big. Close to 8 lbs. by this point. Right in the 50th percentile. I was never this pregnant or this big with Maura (she as born at 38 weeks) so sleep is nearly impossible and I have one dress that fits. I have no idea how I've only managed to gain 16 lbs. I think I've eaten my weight in Dunkin Donuts coffee rolls the past few weeks. I guess it's because I really can't sit around like I did when I was pregnant with Maura -- I've got her to take care of and work to do, and weekends are for errands and visits and play, not rest.

And my little 3rd percentile babe?

She doesn't know what's going to hit her. I'm sure all parents feel this way on their second baby, but I do feel genuinely terrible that there's really no way for her to comprehend the situation she's about to be in, no matter how much we talk about it. At 21 months, she's just too young. My only consolation is that she is not going to remember any of this, and that in essence, although we'll have a baby around, to her it will feel like she has more time with me since I'm usually at work all day and see her so few hours in the evening (less than 2 on most days). And since I can't nurse, it's not as if I'm tethered to the baby and can't at any point put him down if she needs me. And she and Jay are so close, and that won't change. I'm sure we're going to see some regression, some whining and crying and unhappiness. But I'm not one to borrow trouble, and I'm just going to behave as though it's all normal and not make a huge deal of it. Because frankly, there's not much I can do about it. He's going to be here on Monday at the latest and will be in her life forever from that point forward. And this is what we wanted, for her to know and love a sibling that was close to her age.

Most of all these past few weeks, I've finally cleared some head space to just be so excited and ready to meet my son. I'm looking forward to it all -- from the labor and delivery to the sleepless nights -- because what it means is that I have my family, my purpose. I'm bound for nothing greater than this, because this is the greatest there is.

I won't make any promises, but I hope to post soon after his birth. I have the emails for all three of you who read this, and of course we'll update facebook.

Say a wish to the universe for us if you think about it, wishes for a healthy baby.

in desperate need of a good update

which I promise I will soon provide, but in the meantime, a bit of good news.

The baby boy is growing! 6 lbs. 3 oz. at my 35 1/2 week ultrasound today. We're looking at a 7 1/2 lb. baby, at least! Yeah! I don't think Maura was 6 lbs. until she was 2 months old.

He's no longer breech, either, which is a shocker, as he has been most of the pregnancy. Literally yesterday I was planning my c-section with the doctor, just waiting for final confirmation at today's ultrasound that he was in fact still breech. Now it's just a waiting game!

I promise an update with pictures later this week.

back to the real world

I've been living so much to make sure I follow all my restrictions, do as I'm told, take it easy, etc. that somehow a month has passed since I last updated.

All is well, as best as can be.

I have done what they have told me, and as a result, I've made it to 32 weeks with no additional complications, and only a few bouts of aches and pains from doing too much. But all and all, just like the bed rest, the restrictions do become second nature after a while. I miss being able to live my life as normal, but it feels like we're finally in the home stretch. I'm so excited to meet him, and I'm trying my best (from a seated position) to do my best to get ready for him. We have most of the things we need, and although I haven't been able to get out a pick out cute outfits and things, we've got the basics and online shopping has become my new evening activity. We're still going to be borrowing a lot, but that's just how it goes. The tape is up in the room, ready to be painted, and that will happen in the next few weeks. I'm back to my usual obsessing; this time, it's about finding the right pj's to take with me to the hospital so I don't have to be in a gown the whole time like I was with Maura. I'll feel so much more human, but I really don't need to obsess quite this much. I'm packing my hospital bag tonight, and had Jay go to Target to get me sample size toiletries so I could have everything I need. I'm making a list tonight, too, of things I need to throw in the bag at the last minute.

I feel comfortable and ready to do all of this because the baby is growing just fine. At our appointment on Wednesday at 32 weeks, he was 4 lbs. 3 oz., just 12 oz. shy of Maura's birth weight, which is pretty unbelievable. He'll grow (hopefully) a half pound a week for the next 8 weeks, so if I deliver around 40 weeks, he should be 8 lbs. or so. Perfect. I'm still nervous about the growth because this is about when Maura stopped, but they're watching me closely and I'm trying to relax. We had a non-stress test today, and his heart rate was great with no contractions on my part. I am breathing a little easier. Here's the man, sucking his thumb like his momma and sister:

Maura is doing great. As I've said before, she's quite the toddler, and it is frustrating for her to want things and not be able to say them. We're working on her speech, and she gets better everyday. She still cannot/won't/doesn't say Momma or Mommy, which is tough. I know once she does say it she'll go overboard and I'll regret that I was worried, but I just don't feel too good about hearing Dada all the time and nothing even close to resembling Momma. I'm trying not to get a complex. At 19 months now, she is smart, creative, adorable, cranky, cuddly, spastic and focused, and every other mix of characteristics you can think of. She is currently obsessed with her activity table my Mom bought her last weekend, and this morning, refused to have her diaper changed and instead insisted on coloring at 6:30 a.m. She looked so beautiful I had to take pictures:



All in all, the next few weeks will fly by, I'm sure, as most of our weekends are fully booked and work is plenty busy and life must go on without us holding our breath. I'm so ready to meet him already, but hoping to hold out just a little while longer.

A Round of Updates

So much for things being pretty uneventful lately. A bunch of updates:

Mauralicious:
At her 18 month appointment, she was a whopping 20 lbs. 14 oz. and 30 inches, down from the 9th to 7th percentile. Can I get a growth spurt? Please? Pedi's not concerned as this basically follows her usual curve, but my word, she's a peanut. But she's doing AMAZING -- running around, talking more, all around a true joy. Meals are still the most frustrating part of the day, but I think it's par for the course for most toddlers so I try not to let it stress me out. Overall, she is like this most hours of most days:


The Momma:
I had a bit of a scare on Friday (at 27w2d) and started bleeding and ended up in labor and delivery, so I'm on bed rest this week and then very restricted activity the rest of the pregnancy. Like, no grocery shopping, no cleaning, no lifting Maura, can only work three days a week; pretty much no anything. It's going to be a massive adjustment and it's taken a few days for it all to sink in. The full extent of it has not yet.

After some initial confusion, it seems the bleeding was caused by a bit of detached placenta (which, frightening as it sounds, is apparently a common cause of bleeding during pregnancy.) They assured me there's plenty of placenta to go around, and that I may, in fact, lose more and keep bleeding off and on for the rest of the pregnancy and still carry to full term. They cannot confirm or detect this on ultrasound unless the placenta is literally detaching itself, so it's nothing but an educated guess we can't predict.

So from now on I go every other week to the doc, and once 32 weeks hits at the end of the month, I'll go every week to her, every week for non-stress tests at the hospital, and every two weeks for a Level 2 ultrasound. This is one of the most examined kids in history, I think. That's all very reassuring, and there's nothing we can do but take it at two week intervals at this point. The next goal is to make it to 32 weeks, which secures him in a good position if he happened to be born (even though he'd be in the NICU for a while) and that's only 4 weeks away, so I feel positive we'll meet that goal. Bed rest is hard, but I'm loving the time at home with both Jay and Maura. The saddest part is now I see what I've been missing everyday when I'm at work and that pretty much breaks my heart.

Here's my belly about 10 days ago, which has increased dramatically in girth since bed rest began (although oddly only up another pound! So bizarre!)


The Little Man:
Despite all of this, the baby is growing GREAT. Huge in fact! He already gained a pound in the last three weeks since my last ultrasound and is 2 lbs. 11 oz. already. Something like the 65th percentile. He's under no stress whatsoever, and as long as I comply with doctor's orders, I'll be doing everything in my power to be sure it stays that way.

I couldn't do this without Jay, as if that even needs to be said. So many men would have given up on me a long time ago, and he continues to show me tremendous patience and strength, and I know this is very hard for him. He has to do everything. Not that I'm much of a housekeeper, but to not even be able to help a little...it's tough, to say the least. And he's exhausted, since his sleep is so off now -- since Maura was born he's gotten to sleep in on the weekends since he works so late at night, and now he can't because I can only lift her once a day to put her into her crib at night for bed when he's at work so I can't get up with her in the morning by myself. We'll be relieved in more ways than one when the baby is born happy and healthy (and fingers crossed, full term). 9 more weeks until full-term; we can do it, I know we can.

That's all for now. Overall, we're managing just fine and have had many a laugh laying on the sofa this week. As much as adversity sucks, it has always helped to bond Jay and me even closer together. I'm so thankful.

quick update

Baby Boy is doing great! 1 lb. 11 oz., 45th percentile, and looking fantastic. Finally I'm 1 lb. over my pre-pregnancy weight. So bizarre, given his size and the size of my belly. And he's no longer breech. Hee haw. I should know tomorrow whether or not I passed my gestational diabetes test.

All for now! Look at that sweet face!