Sara is Smiling

Pretty Baby

I have a confession to make...

I feel great.

I honestly do. That was my easiest pregnancy followed by my quickest delivery and my recovery has been a breeze. Seriously, some women have it easy! Finally I'm one of them!

Granted, Quinn is not quite 2 weeks old yet so everything could change BUT in my past experience I'm usually severely sleep deprived, crying all the time, and still sitting on a donut pillow by now.
For some reason nothing is really bothering me this time. No, she doesn't sleep through the night - not even close, the other kids are doing a lot more fighting and whining than usual, and the overall difficulty level of organizing and co-ordinating any extracurricular activities (which includes simple things like going to the bank or to buy milk) seems to have been multiplied by a thousand.
Everything seems totally manageable, though, and I'm easily staying on track.

I might just float off into the sunset in a golden bubble.
Thank the business for keeping me sufficiently stressed and bursting that bubble to keep me grounded. :-)

Quinn Sadie - How She Got Here

I cannot sufficiently express to you..there are no words to describe it..the utter joy I feel..that I
NEVER HAVE TO DO THAT AGAIN.
Our family is COMPLETE. Completely whole. Completely done. Completely wonderful. Completely complete.
(How's that for tempting fate?)

I wasn't induced early with this pregnancy like I was with my others due to being "too healthy". Screw that. All this wondering and waiting for some dramatic Wow!-I'm-in-labour!-grab-the-bags-let's-go! moment is over rated. Give me a date. Let me be in control.

Wednesday night I jumped on the trampoline with Elly. Quincey had forbade it when I suggested it as a self induction technique so I waited until he wasn't home. I didn't last very long because jumping on a trampoline when you are 9+ months pregnant is actually quite painful. Go figure.

Thursday mid-morning as I'm at our warehouse picking up supplies to move into our new store I get a few contractions. Painful? Not really, but by my fourth kid I'm pretty familiar with the difference between the practice contractions you get throughout pregnancy and the "real" ones that you get in labour.

I'm intrigued, though not convinced that "this is it". I decide - just for fun - to try and time them. Yes, there's an app for that. I hand Charlie my iphone (she had wanted to come to work with me that day) and tell her to press the button when I say so. She's THRILLED to be involved.

We don't stop, though, and keep doing what we were there to do. I swing by Quincey's office and let him know what's up. He wants to go to the hospital. I laugh. I'm not even in any real pain yet, and according to my app these contractions are sporatic and infrequent. I'm still not willing to admit that today is THE day.

Charlie and I head to the store and drop off the supplies. I tell my team that I'm not staying, though, because I'm "not feeling well". Still in partial denial and not willing to admit to anyone that I may be in (or approaching) labour.

Charlie wants to go to Red Robin for lunch. Just the two of us. I figure, why not.
We enjoyed ourselves and kept timing the contractions (which were still not too painful) although I realized I had no appetite.

Back at home I'm not quite sure what to do with myself. I feel guilty about laying in bed. I'm not in enough pain. I could still be doing something. I decide to go for a walk. Off we go, Charlie and I iphone app in hand.

Walk walk walk walk walk. Contractions. They'll come a few in a row at 3 minutes apart. Then 30 minutes and nothing. At this stage I'm still thinking that the hospital will send me home. Not regular enough..not strong enough. Blah blah blah. I am not going to L&D until I'm CERTAIN that I'm in full on labour.

We went home, but I still didn't know what to do with myself. Quincey had been calling me all day. Now? Now? How 'bout now? NO. NOT YET. DON'T CALL ME, I'LL CALL YOU. was always my response.

I have a shower. He calls again. NOOOO. But by the time I'm dried off and dressed things have changed. Yes, that quickly. Suddenly I'm having contractions less than 2 minutes apart that are bringing me to tears. I call Quincey. NO ANSWER. You have GOT to be kidding me! No worries, though. He quickly calls right back. He's in his van headed home.

I get some last minute things together. It's not, but it seeeeems to be taking forever for him to get here now that I'm having so much pain. I call him. Huuurrrry.

The last thing I hear as I'm walking out the door is Charlie asking my mom, "Why is she crying?" and mom saying, "because it hurts."

At the hospital the case room is packed. We get the last bed. My contractions are no more than a minute apart and I can't get through them without crying and moaning. I am the only patient in the case room in this type of pain. All the other beds are chatting away.
Why don't they just take me to a room??

The nurse checks me and is surprised to find that I am 6cms dilated already.
"So that's why you're in so much pain!"
Yes..like I told you when I checked in....I'M IN LABOUR.

Fast forward through some intense labour to finally getting my epidural and my husband passing out in the process. I'm not sure they see that very often in L&D..a FOURTH time Dad passing out during labour. So I'm getting my epi. I'm sitting on the edge of the bed leaning into him. I'm in transition. Things are not going well. I've lost track of how many times they've tried to get the line in, but we've since counted the holes in my back and it was SIX tries.
So like I said, I'm sitting on the side of the bed and leaning into Q. All of the sudden, Quincey's weight shifts dramatically and he is now leaning into me.
"Are you OK?" I ask him.
"yup" is his response.
Then his weight shifts suddenly again onto me. I can't see anything because I'm literally holding him up with my head and shoulders, but I can hear the nurse rushing over and saying, "Sit down! Sit down!"
She flops him to the bench behind him, holds me up, and voila..the epi is in.
I look up at him and he looks like he has just stepped out of the shower. He's soaking wet.
I felt bad for him for a split second, but then suggested maybe he tries sitting in MY seat and seeing how he holds up then.

Before you know it, the baby is out.
I announce that I feel the baby coming then tell the nurse, "Did I mention that my babies just kind of slide out?"
"That's my cue!" she says as she rushes out to grab the doctor.

At 8:30pm July 22nd exactly 2 1/2 hours after arriving at the hospital baby girl Quinn Sadie arrived weighing 7lbs 3ozs and 20 inches long.

Who needs a baby when you have STONES?

Reached a new low last night.
SURPRISE! Not only are you 9 months pregnant, you have KIDNEY STONES!

I started having pain Saturday evening. It would come and go. I didn't attribute it to stones, but it wasn't bad enough or regular enough to be labour either.
Sunday morning was rough. It wouldn't go away and continued to get worse. I went to the hospital against my will. Nope, not labour. Probably stones.
This is what they told me, but did nothing further.
They were worried about my blood pressure being high and focused on that.

Monday morning I had another "episode" of pain that started at Home Depot. Got myself home, rested, and was feeling better. This brings me to last night.
Suddenly and without warning I had a full blown attack. I've had stones before - gall stones and kidney stones - so I was pretty sure at this point what I was dealing with. I was hunched over on the floor moaning and rocking. The kids got upset. Quincey rushed them all into bed and let me ride it out.
It started to subside. I raised my head up and was nose to twitchy nose with the bunny who had been sitting there munching on my mess of hair.

I checked on the kids and went to bed. After sleeping for - oh..let's say less than 45 minutes I was up again. This time the pain was worse than before. If you've ever had kidney stones, you know that its not the kind of pain that you can lay in bed and just "accept". You can't get in a comfortable position. You want to crawl right out of your skin. If someone offered you a gun to blow your brains out you'd probably take them up on it without a second's hesitation.

Four hours...YES. FOUR HOURS LATER I was able to crawl back to bed. Not pain free, but reduced enough to allow me to be still.

The most horrible part for me was knowing that I was going through all this pain and it was all for NOTHING. At least when I give birth in two weeks I can talk myself through the pain with things like, "every contraction is bringing baby closer". I was bawling at the thought of this all being useless worthless suffering. I kept watching the floor of the shower where I spent most of my time last night HOPING and PRAYING for some blood. SOMETHING that would say, You're in labour! Embrace the pain! It's wonderful!
But there was nothing!
And today I don't even have the comfort of knowing that IT'S OVER. Because who knows?? Maybe when I leave here in a few minutes to go and meet the kids at school for the last day of school bbq I'll end up curled in a ball in the playground moaning and rocking back and forth, and all the other moms will think I'm in labour.
I'm not. But I do hope to deliver a tiny rock or two sooner much rather than later or else the rest of this pregnancy will be utterly and completely MISERABLE.
Do you think if I went to the hospital they'd give me an epidural now that I can keep in for the rest of the month??

A Man in Labour

Ok, so obviously by the content of all my recent blog posts, I'm a little preoccupied with my pregnancy right now. This post will be no different.
I found this video and wanted to share.
It's an experiment where they simulate contractions on a man. He doesn't do so well.
However, even though he realizes how painful and difficult it is to endure I couldn't help but be just a little annoyed that his "labour" seemed like a breeze compared to what I'm used to PLUS the huge factor that he did have another human being forcing their big melon through his ass or the lovely feeling (and after effects) of ripping flesh.

So watch this ladies, and bask in the superiority of our sex.

Will it End?

I've never understood why people take time off work BEFORE the baby comes. Seems like you'd be wasting your time off when you don't even have baby to spend it with.

I've always worked right up to having my babies and then been back at work shortly (like..days) thereafter. (with my baby in tow, of course.)

But now I get it.

I am having a seriously killer time not totally going psycho on people. I have zero tolerance and no ability to "play the games". Someone "makes a suggestion" aka criticizes something I've done and I want to stand up and overturn the desk all the while roaring like King Kong. In the movie of my life this would be shown in slow motion and there would be a close up of my raging face. Fangs and all, spit flying. And all you'd hear would be a million consecutive BLEEPS.

Then the work day is through and I cannot keep my eyes open. Literally. I fight it and fight it because I need to make dinner and spend some time with the kids. But I just end up being snippy with them because my fuse is so short, I can barely stay awake, and the skin on my stomach feels like it will rip wide open at the slightest touch...including hugs. My poor kids. :-(
Then I order pizza. My kids don't even like pizza.

Last night I was going to take them on a little date to Chuck E Cheese. I couldn't do it, though. My energy was run dry. I had nothing left. In the back of my mind I'm thinking I'll try it again tonight. But who am I kidding. Why would I suddenly have an explosion of energy tonight? Maybe I'll take a nap with Elly this afternoon....come on, you're not going to do that either, Sara. There's too much to do.

BIG. FAT. SIGH.

I guess the good news is that because I have so much going on right now the last few weeks of this achingly long pregnancy will fly by. Right? Please tell me these last few weeks will fly by! Promise me that! or shoot me...either one is fine with me at this point.

Have I mentioned how wonderful Quincey is with all of this?
He hasn't once shown any frustration over my bad temperament. Hasn't snapped back. Hasn't even avoided me. I can't say I'd behave the same were I in his position.
He just gives me hugs and tells me I'm beautiful.
And on his birthday last week when I made him bbq his own birthday dinner, got him a cheap grocery store cake, reused the candles from my mother's birthday cake (no, he's not 62!), and then didn't clean up the mess for 2 days it didn't seem to bother him at all.
He's a good man, people. And no, I don't share. :-)



I just LOVE this picture of Eloise lovin' on her Daddy.

Elly's Baby Bump

So I've mentioned before that Eloise thinks that she has a baby in her tummy just like me.
My plan is to buy her a new doll and have it at the hospital for when she comes to visit me, and it can be "Elly's new baby".

I've been talking about the baby a lot lately trying to get her used to the idea of it.
Anyway, she couldn't be any cuter last night when she climbed up on my lap, pulled up my shirt and started "tickeling" the baby.
"Ticky ticky ticky, baby!!" she smiled as she tickled my belly. Then she kissed it.
She spotted a camera, jumped down and grabbed it. Then she pulled up her own shirt and pointed the camera toward her stomach. "Say cheeeeeese, baby! CHEEEEEEEEESE!"

The Bright Side of Birth

I just have to laugh.
There has been a lot of belly aching on a pregnancy message board I frequent to the tune of "nobody wants to hear about anybody's painful birthing experience, I just want to hear about those that slept through labour, pushed twice, and had your baby in your arms."

Hunh? I can understand not wanting to hear about vaginal tearing and pooping while pushing over appetizers at a dinner party, but this is an internet community support board for PREGNANT WOMEN. I actually don't know anyone who had a labour such as the one you suggested. I guess it's possible -- go for an induction, get an epidural before you feel any contractions, and make sure they keep the juices running until you're at least a week post partum. Hey..that doesn't sound half bad!

I get the fact that they're scared, though, because I'm scared too! First time or fourth time - anticipating child birth and all that goes with it can make a girl go wonky.

SO I decided to rise to this challenge and try to list all the GREAT things about birth..aside, of course, from the fact that I end up with the shweetest widdo baby that ever wever was. That just goes without saying. So here's my list:

1. The entire time I was pregnant with my first Quincey played the part of nervous new dad who was going to be sitting in the waiting room ready to pass out cigars. My mother in law supported this and thought it was utterly stupid that I would even want him there. When push came to shove (no pun intended) he stood there by the bed holding one of my legs, huge grin on his face as he actually watched the birth happen. It didn't seem to bother him in the slightest. I loooved that he came through like that.

2. After she was out and they were weighing her and checking her out, he stayed right where he was..by my side, wiping the sweat that had accumulated on my forehead and the tears from my cheeks. And that big ol' grin didn't go anywhere either. I felt so cherished.

3. I lose weight after I deliver. Not just the baby weight. I end up below my pre pregnancy weight within a few weeks. This is the BEST pregnancy side effect for me. I'm a little worried this time, though. I'm feeling nothing but huge at this point!

4. I have fast labours. Not so fast that the baby is crowning in the car or anything, but no more than 4-5 hours. No marathon sessions for me!

5. All three times I've delivered between 4:30-5:30pm so I've never had to pull a labour and delivery all-nighter. This is also a great time to deliver because it's just in time to have a nice dinner, a bunch of visitors to ooo and aaaa over my baby, then go to bed and get released in the morning.

6. I've never been 40 weeks pregnant.

7. As soon as the babies come out I'M CURED! No more diabetes!

8. Even though I'm totally wiped from the process, there's an adrenaline high immediately following the birth for me. I feel fabulous and happy and love all the visiting -- especially from my kids. I know some women don't want anybody there and have weird rules about who can and can't come and who is allowed to hold the baby. I say the more the merrier and pass that baby around! It's a celebration!

I know that's not really a lot. If I was writing all the horrible fears I have about it I could probably write all day. But this excercise actually worked for me. I'm maybe just a little less scared and a little more excited to head out to the hospital to deliver this baby next month!

Taken in my living room, by my 6 year old, with bad lighting, with my not-so-nice camera, and my 2 year old screaming at my feet because she wanted to be the photographer.

On being Zen..take 2

The only thing I hate more than a whiny blog post is two whiny blog posts in a row.

But here I go anyway..get out your violin.

I'm having some serious sciatic nerve pain. Pregnancy related, of course. It comes and goes in severity, but last night was so bad I couldn't put any weight on my leg without severe pain up into my back. Quincey rubbed it out for as long as I could stand then I took some tylenol and laid down on an ice pack. Needless to say, I didn't sleep well.
This morning I was stiff for awhile, but it gradually felt better. Through it I managed to get the kids up, fed, ready and off to school without loosing my patience once.
That's a feat! Score one for the Zen Master!

I tried to get some work in this morning. Eloise was kind enough to co-operate. Then I encountered some "opportunities" as Quincey likes to call it. Ended up on a conference call. Hung up from that and broke down in tears.
This surprised me. Guess I'm more frustrated than I had thought.
Elly climbed up on my lap and said, "Mama, I like you."
Sometimes it pays to keep a 2 year old around when you're working. Sooometiiiimes.

After lunch, Elly and I headed downtown for another meeting at work. I expected this one to be tough as well, and it most definitely was. During it Elly played on my iphone and tapped away on the adding machine. Not very professional, but if you want to meet with me you learn to accept these little annoyances. Then she turned the music on on my phone and Erasure played in the background..."oh baby pleeeeeease give a little respeeeect...tooooooooo meeeeee!"
You'd think that would lighten the mood! It didn't.
I left that meeting and had another cry in my car outside.

BUT -- my goal was to be zen with my kids, and now it was 3pm and I had yet to yell at my kids today! Zen Master - 2, Temper - zilch!

I picked up Charlie and Max from school, and because I had been busy with meetings and work today I didn't have time to get groceries so had to take the whole gang. By now I've given you enough grocerie store horror stories that you probably just got chills up your spine. You're expecting me to reveal how I finally lost my temper today.
I did not! And just WAIT til you hear what happened! Read on, my friends!

So the kids were OK...not fantastic, but OK. They asked for lots of junk. Not only did I not cave to their demands, but I also didn't get snappy or aggitated. I started to..I wanted to, but I didn't.
In the checkout I asked Max, "Do you think you were good enough here to go get a slurpie?"
He hung his head and answered sheepishly, "Nooo."
I was a little surprised. It wasn't a trick question!
Charlie piped up, "I think that I was good enough to get a slurpie."

We headed with our bags out to the car. As I was unloading them into the back, I picked up the case of diet coke by the built in handle and it broke.
I was left holding a small ripped piece of cardboard while the case crashed to the ground and coke cans spilled out and rolled all over the parking lot. I grabbed what dented cans I could catch and put them back in the box. I picked up the box to lift it back into the trunk when the bottom seam gave out and now AAALLL the cans fell out.
Picture it:
Big preggo lady running around the Safeway parking lot trying to catch rolling cans of diet coke - some of which have sprung leaks and spray her in the face as she tries to pick them up.
SCREW IT.
I cut my loses, get back in the van, take a deep breath, and head to 7-11 for the slurpies I promised.

At home I've parked in front of the house to unload the groceries. We have a detached garage and parking on the street and going in the front door is the shortest route to travel with a million bags of groceries. The only downside it that I'm in full view of all my neighbours. Why is this a downside?
Because when I make a fool of myself everyone's got a front row seat.

I've got my hands full of bags and I'm still in the street. I start walking. Elly goes the wrong way around the van so I follow her since we're on the street and I don't want her on the street by herself. So I'm practically in the middle of the road in front of my house, arms full of groceries, chasing a pig-tailed 2 year old, the big ugly panel on my oh-so-sexy maternity pants has slid down and there is a few inches of my stretch-marky belly showing. Can't do anything about that since my hands are full.
And then as though Mother Nature is punishing me for answering "yes" too many times to "Do you want your milk in a bag, Ma'am?" the bottom breaks out of my bag. My milk drops to the concrete and yes, you guessed it, springs a leak.
In my scurry to pick it up, items from the rest of my bags start spilling out. In the middle of the street. In front of my house. With neighbours looking on. And Elly looking so very cute in her little strawberry blond pig tails and clutching a baby doll under one arm was still running in the street.

So did I pass?? Have I proven I can be Zen under difficult circumstances?? Do you think perhaps you could stop testing me now?? Please?

Charlie's Baby

Today I overheard Charlie telling my mom:
"Sometimes when Mommy is preg-a-nent she pees her pants when she sneezes."

I wonder how many other people she's telling my secrets to. :-/

For someone so adamant that she is never having kids, she sure does seem to love them.
I get those pregnancy updates "Your baby this week" from a website, and ever since I told Charlie that the baby can hear her now she gets her mouth right up to my stomach - you know how kids do when they're talking into a microphone with their lips pressed against it - and tells the baby she loves her and to come out soon.

She's so excited for the baby to come. She reminds me of myself when I was a kid and my mother was expecting my little sister -- although, I don't recall telling my mom that I'd babysit everyday for a cost of $20/day. Sure it's a great price and all, but.....
She added that the cost of taking care of me when I'm old is $50/day.
I guess that's the difference in gross factor of changing a newborn's diaper and changing your mother's? Or maybe a baby's toothless grin is more rewarding than a crazy old lady's.

And I'll Only Get Bigger From Here...

Everyday I feel like I'm bigger than the last.
My pregnant sister is a month ahead of me, but I've been bigger than her since day one. She'll protest and complain about her bigness, but its all just white noise to me. The mirror doesn't lie.
Nor does my mother.

I went to get some maternity clothes yesterday because I'm tired of wearing the same pair of pants everyday. I grab a bunch of cute clothes from the rack and head to the fitting rooms. One item after another I put on and then discard.

I'm standing there looking in the mirror with one particularly bad outfit on. I suddenly get the urge to do Chris Farley's Fat Man In a Little Coat dance, but it wasn't quite the same without my kids there to embarrass.

Then I did the unthinkable.
I tried on a bathing suit. A maternity bathing suit.
I stood in front of the full length mirror and stared at it for a good long time.
Is this really me? Where's my basketball belly? Where's my glow? Where's the cute little young thing that my husband married?
I squeezed myself out of it and then bought it...because, its really not going to get any better than that. siiiigh.

Then last night I had a dream that the baby was here. She looked just like me as a baby, and she was wearing a fuzzy green sleeper just like the one that both Charlie and Max wore home from the hospital. It was just me, Quincey and the baby in the dream and I couldn't stop myself from smooching on her milky white cheeks.
And yes, I know it's cheesy...but I woke up feeling happy -- even if I am a lard ass.