And We Ended Up There Anyway...

It took a couple days to recover from Matt's birth. By Monday morning I was feeling awesome; all bruises were fading, and my overall energy was up. Louisa (my midwife's student) had called and said I sounded chipper. The baby was doing great, and really pleasant. Around 11:00 I felt suddenly very tired, and Joe said I should take a nap as the baby was sleeping. I woke up at 1:00 with chills, a horrible backache and a very tender abdomen. Within an hour and a half my temp rose to 102.1. I called Peggy and she told me to go to the E.R. They did blood tests and cultures (which if you know me, you know is very hard for me to do), and couldn't come up with anything except my white blood cell count was through the roof indicating some kind of infection, but they had no idea what it was. They wanted to admit me and give me IV antibiotics (another absolutely NOT in my book). After a while Joe convinced me it was better to do that than go home sick, and have to come back with something more serious or worse. So thinking we might be home by midnight I agreed. The nurse fought me over Lidocane, (a local antistatic) but they gave in. Side note * the E.R. tech was a total ____. They wheeled me up to another floor and as we were getting set up I asked the nurse if we might be out of there before midnight. Her face contorted as she said, "oh, no. Probable 3 or 4 days..." M@#$%RF@#$%R! Bastards. By now I was really upset. After an hour Joe said he'd go get Matt so I could at least see him. I was really happy to see my baby. I had never been separated more than a minute from my newborn, so the few hours seemed endless. Joe and Matt stayed for a few hours, and we decided it would be better for Matt to stay with my mom for the night. I cried my eyes out when they left. Joe stayed with me that night.

The next morning the Doctor came in and said if I responded well to the meds I could go home the following morning. Not what I wanted to hear, but not horrible. Joe left to go home and brave the kids that were coming (it was going to be a full house) with Kaela. Of course I cried when he left... again. My mom came an hour later with baby in tow, and that made my day a lot better. Around 2:00 though, my fever spiked out of nowhere. They gave me meds to keep it down. Kaela visited after she went home from our house, and Joe brought the boys to visit after dinner. He and Matt stayed the night, and my mom went home. My IV was starting to go and they wanted to relocate it, but I said 'hell no'.

Wednesday: I'm going home! I'm ready and excited... until around 9:00 when the Doctor comes in and says I can't go home because of the fever spike. Damn. Joe left with Matt to give him his first bath and I bawled after he left. I've never missed first anything with my kids, but Matt severely needed to de-stink. My mom came back with him all clean and smelling wonderful. A little after she got there my IV was shot, and they had to take it out. They said they were going to have to put it in another location now, because it was no longer working in that spot. Basically, I had so much running through my vein, it couldn't handle it anymore. I was relieved to have it out finally, because I couldn't nurse Matt properly because I couldn't position or hold him well. After such a great start, I feared he was going to get lazy with me and only want to bottle feed. Another real downer. I talked wit the nurse about why I couldn't just go home at this point, and said I wanted her to page the Doctor so I could talk to her. After the nurse left I looked at my mom and said, "I'm done." she gave me a look and I said, "No, I'm done. I've been cooperative, I've done their stupid tests after tests, they still are only guessing I have a uterine infection; they don't know that. I'm going home." I got up and starting packing. After 15 minutes the nurse came back in and said, "Good news! The Doctor said you can go on oral antibiotics now, but we still want to keep you overnight to make sure you don't spike again." Better than nothing. I agreed to stay one more night. Joe brought the boys again, Mom left with them again, and Joe and Matt stayed the night.

I finally went home Thursday around 3:00. As we walked through the doors Joe said, "freedom!". It was so nice to be in my own environment again. Nate was up when I got home and he said, "are you not sick anymore?" I love my kids.

So my absolute fear came true and I ended up in the hospital anyway. It could've been a lot worse, but for me it was bad enough. A special thanks to Kaela and my mom for taking over the child care and holding down the fort while I was gone. An incredibly heart-felt thanks to Joe for making 10,000 home/hospital runs, dealing with my emotions, and being incredibly supportive and understanding. Most husbands would not have done what he did, or would have handled it as well... especially when it came to my emotional fits. But we're all home now, and doing great. I've been a lot less emotional since.

Introducing:

Matthew Alan Nunnally. He was born on July 18, 2008 at 12:22 pm. He was 8 lbs, 11 oz. and 21 inches long. We finally decided on Matthew today after a long time going back and forth over out list of 5. Alan is there as a tribute to my Dad and Late brother Jonny, who died last September. Alan was both their middle name. He loves to eat, and responds really well to his brother's voices. He has blue eyes, and light brown hair that I assume will turn blond like the rest of us. He is sweet, but quite demanding as most babies are. We are so happy to have him in our lives.

Our Baby Story

Thursday evening I was having some sporadic contractions, but didn't pay any attention to them. They weren't that strong, or predictable. I figured it'd be at least another week before he decided to make his grand entrance. Around 4:16 Friday morning, I woke up with very strong contractions about 2 minutes apart. They went on for about 45 minutes before Joe woke up from my moving around so much trying to get comfortable. At this point, I still wasn't sure if they were anything to pay attention to. Joe immediately got the idea that they were. We were both awake and were not going back to sleep, so he decided to go get some coffee and scones; it was going to be a long day. While he was out I called Peggy, my midwife, and told her what was going on. She said to call again in an hour to give her an update. When Joe got back, I went downstairs and we stood around in the kitchen, timing and mentally preparing for the day ahead. Around 6 Kaela came upstairs (she had stayed over the past 2 nights), and knew something had to be up since both of us were wide awake and with coffee. At 6:30 Peggy called back and said they would be here in about an hour. Joe left to go pick up some Gatorade and melon for me, and Kaela and I talked about the birth process and kids in general. I decided to get in the shower now, so I didn't miss my opportunity. Nate woke up while I was in the shower, and Joe got to tell him the good news he had been waiting to hear for a very long time. Peggy and Louisa arrived shortly, and starting setting up. Joe had to rearrange our bedroom to accommodate the birth pool. They had accidentally forgotten one of their medical bags, so they checked my progress to see if they had enough time to go back and get it. I was only 4 cm at this point. While they were out, Joe and I decided to go for a walk to keep the labor moving along. When Peggy and Louisa got back they checked me again, and I was at 6 cm. Kaela had cut up one of the melons for me and I was resting and munching on that while they continued to set up. My contractions had slowed because I had been sitting for so long. After 2 attempts for an IV, they gave up, and decided if I needed fluids after the birth, they would have to use a butterfly. Good news for me, but I did pretty damn well for having such a needle phobia while sitting through the attempts! I was pretty distracted though... We decided to go for another walk and this time Nate and Louisa came with us. The contractions were still not picking up, so when we got back to the house at 11:35, Peggy and Louisa gave me and Joe some tricks to use to speed up the labor. (no, not that.) After about 20 minutes, the contractions were extremely intense, but not really coming any closer together. When Peggy and Louisa came back up to check on us, they obviously knew something I didn't cause the rushed to finish filling the pool. I was getting emotional, but not really bad. 5 minutes later my water broke, and he came down so fast, I barely had enough time to get in the pool. He was already crowning. I'm usually not a baby in labor, and I've never been vocal, but something was different this time. As he was trying to make his grand entrance, they could see an elbow coming out with the head, and the cord around his neck. Because of the position of his arm, he got stuck at the shoulders for a minute. Needless to say, the event was a traumatic event for both of us, and no one was really expecting a difficult delivery. When we finally got him out at 12:22, he was pretty unresponsive, and his color was not great. After what seemed like an eternity, we finally stimulated him enough to get a few cries out. Looking back, we all agree that he was just in a bit of shock. He does not have any damage. Thankfully, the cord was around his neck and arm, so it didn't cut off any oxygen. His head was bruised and swollen because everything happened so fast, but that's about it. I was definitely a lot more battered than I've ever been after labor, but we're all doing just fine now. Today his swelling has gone down almost all the way, and he is doing a lot better than yesterday. He cried a lot the day he was born, but I would too if I had to be on his end of it. Nate came in to cut the cord, but decided that was a job better suited for Daddy, and he would just watch. He was going to be there for the birth but we didn't have enough time to get him, and I'm glad. With the way things went, he probably would have gotten scared, and I really didn't want that for him. Unfortunately, because of the quick progression of the day, we have no pictures of the birth or labor. And honestly, everyone there was playing an important role, so no one was available to take them anyway. We did take some pics of the new baby right away though.

We are adjusting to life as a family of 5 quite well. My mom flew in from Florida this morning, and we are more than happy to have her. We are also happy to take any other visitors who wish to meet our newest addition. Further, a special thanks to Kaela: you were such a huge help, and we would've had a hard time without you!

The Tough Questions

Being pregnant with a 4 year old has raised challenges of it's own. Nate's been really curious about the whole process, and often asks questions that I'm not really ready to discuss. He's awesome at catching us off guard when we haven't had time to think up an age appropriate answer. This is probably one of the toughest challenges in parenthood: teaching your child about life in a way that they will understand, while preserving their innocence. Though this question had nothing to do with pregnancy, Nathan brought it up yesterday and it was one of the harder things I've had to explain. Maybe it was just the hormones, but I quietly bawled my eyes out after he had left the room.

As Joe and I were looking for our birthing pool in the garage, we looked through a lot of boxes we hadn't opened since we taped them up in the move. In one of the boxes we found some framed pictures we had out at the old house. One in particular was that of my late brother Jonny and his monkey, Jacob. He didn't have any kids, so that monkey was his life. When I went out to RI for his funeral, my dad had made a bunch of copies of this one picture, framed them, and gave one to each sibling. Unfortunately, it's the only picture I have of him. A day later Joe brought the picture inside and placed it on top of our piano. When Nate woke up from nap he came down and noticed it right away. "who's that?" he asked.
"That's uncle Jonny." I said.
"He's got a monkey?'
"yup. The monkey's name is Jacob."
"I want to meet Uncle Jonny and his monkey."
"well..." Think "you can't"
"why not?"
And I thought about this. He doesn't quite understand death yet. I replied, "Remember how Mommy said sometimes people get really hurt or sick, and they go away and can't come back?"
He nodded. "Well Uncle Jonny got really hurt, and he's not here anymore."
He took a minute to digest that and finally said, "well, I will miss him."
I'm not sure why this particular moment effected me so, but it did. I will miss him too. I will miss never knowing him as an adult and picking his brain. I didn't know anything about who he really was until he died. I not only grieved the loss of a brother, but the loss of the chance to have a good relationship with him. He really was a good, cultured person with a lifetime of extraordinary experiences. I missed out on that.

We're not supposed to cry in front of our kids, or let them see us in a moment of weakness. So I sucked it up until he left in search of a snack. Unfortunately, he has so many relatives he will never have a chance to know, because I barely do. I tried to rebuild my relationship with my other estranged siblings, but it fell apart after about 6 months. And when they go, which we all will at some point, I know I'll be left with the same regret and sadness. It's amazing how you don't start asking yourself the tough questions until you're asked to answer to someone else. And when you can no longer avoid it, it can be brutal.

I did it! Now about Drew and Fatigue...

I did it. It was hard, but I cut off the ties I said I was going to. So I didn't chicken out, feel bad... well a little. I still feel bad about the situation, but realize it's not my fault and there's nothing I can do to change it or make it better.

Now I am just waiting for this baby to make his big debut! My mom is flying in this Saturday, and it's another reminder of how close we actually are to becoming a family of 5. God, that's crazy!!! The earliest due date I was given was 7/17, and that's Thursday. From there we've had a few dates up to 7/24. So he really could come at any minute. I'm so anxious! We all are. Nathan asks me every day: "is he coming out now?" I can't wait until I can answer that with a yes. Drew's been having a hard time with other kids being around since he was taught by another certain couple of kids that it's OK to hit, push, take things, etc. just because you don't 'like' someone, and now Joe and I are worried he might not do well with a kid that's here permanently. Especially once he realizes the baby's here forever. It's actually made me and Joe really sad because before these certain other kids were around, Drew was just our sweet little Drew who loved babies, and was forever giving and requesting hugs and kisses. It is going to take so long to undo the damage they've done in just a few weeks. I feel bad for the other kids, but I'll be damned if I'm going to let them keep coming around after the horrible influence they've had on my family. Unfortunately I know it's not their fault; in kids so young you can only blame the parents. I really wanted to help them and be a good influence, but sometimes there is just nothing you can do. Wow, talk about a change of subject! LOL

So anyway... I'm completely exhausted today for no reason. If I could go to bed I would. I'm not sure why I'm so tired. I've been super-motivated lately and I've been getting a lot accomplished around the house. With this baby coming (whenever that will be) and my mom visiting, I know I don't have a whole lot of time left to do things I need to get done. I just get so angry when I'm this tired because I feel like I should be doing so much more than I am, but I just physically can't. Grrr. Maybe I'll just try to take it a little easier today and allow myself that, and then I'll wake up refreshed tomorrow. Only problem with that is: what if I don't? I'll have a house full of kids, and still no energy. at least Joe will be home most of the day tomorrow. He's a huge help, and I really don't think I could sanely make it through most days without him.

All For #1!

I have recently gotten myself into a situation that I am having a hard time getting out of. And not because I don't have the ability, just that my self-expectations always supersede reality. Way too often I take on too much, expect too much of myself, and then feel like I am severely letting down anyone else involved. My most recent undertaking is failing miserably, but I don't believe it's any fault of my own. Some things just can't be accomplished, some people can't be taught, and there is only so much one human being can put up with. I have put so much effort in to have it shoved back in my face, and I am frustrated and on the verge of emotional breakdown about 24 hours a day. Yesterday I started crying after a so-so convo with my midwife, and Joe got angry. Not because he was mad at me, but because this is what it's come down to. He hates seeming me so distressed, and knows I really take things to heart. When I commit to something I give 100% and it's hard to give all I have and not see any results or get anything in return. Especially when I can blantently see my efforts are not being appreciated. Today I reached the end of the rope, and I refuse to let this go on any longer. I am being ambiguous as to not openly point fingers, so if you don't get it, feel free to ask.

A few nights ago I was complaining to Joe and trying to come up with a plan of action for remedying this situation. He said 'the sooner I learn to look out for "#1" ,' meaning me and my family, the sooner I'll be happier. He said I should stop being afraid to hurt other people's feelings, because they obviously don't give a damn about me. This current state is effecting my entire family; the boys are acting differently, Joe is stressed, I'm a wreck, and even my animals are being brought into it now. No one is going to take care of me, but me. And I have to be the voice of my kids because no one else is going to. Everyone else puts themselves first, and who gives a shit who they walk on in the meantime? This has gone on long enough, and I am fed up. It ends today.

Done, Done.... So Done!

Like any typical prego I have hit the wall of being SO done. I'm fat, tired, exhausted, can't bend over to pick up a toy or tie my shoes... I'm so sick of being in this state. I don't feel ready for another human being to be in our lives, but I'm definitely ready for this human to be out of my body! I've always said that you are never ready for a child; you're never prepared, you never have enough money... all the ducks are never lined up. So, you let it happen and work with it. I also believe things will happen when they are supposed to and you should never try to push things in your favor because then it will go wrong, but GD! If I could induce somehow I would. Everyone has an idea of what encourages labor, but I've tried most and have failed miserably. I don't get in these moods often. I'm usually really easy-going and accepting of situations, but this just sucks now. If you've ever been pregnant, you know exactly how I am feeling. And if you plan on it, it's not always this bad, and as soon as the baby's born you forget about all the crap. Especially when you decide to have another... or another... you kind of have to. Otherwise no one would have more than one child! That's about it. I'm done ranting now.

Jewel's 9 lives

Our most recent scare with Jewel came Sunday. If you don't know, Jewel is our Calico cat. I've had her since July of 2001. She's moved with me many times, and I think she is meant to be here for the long haul.

Early on, I had to take her when she was 4 weeks old, because her mom was too young and started turning on the kittens. She was the only Calico, and chose me. I had to hand feed her for awhile, and watch her constantly.

When we moved to WA from GA, we had Scooter (our schnoodle) Omelet (our Siamese mix) and Jewel on the 3500 mile trip cross country. In Arizona, she escaped from the car at the hotel we were staying at. After looking for her all night and being told she probably got eaten by Coyotes, we knew we couldn't stay to look for her any longer, cause the chances were slim that we'd find her. I left my number with the front desk and we left. 10 minutes later, we received a call that someone had found her in their engine compartment. They happened to check their oil that morning, and also had a spare cat carrier in their vehicle. We turned around, I cried, and off we went.

Sunday, our neighbor informed us he spotted a Calico at 1:30 am coming up from the woods, barely able to walk, and bleeding. She usually comes in at night, but just wouldn't on Saturday. We looked for her under the porch and around the property. I figured she was dead. Later on that night, Nathan woke up because of the wind (he's terrified of Tornado's), so I went in to comfort him. As I was sitting on the bed, something brushed against my legs startling me. and what do you know, it's a bruised and swollen Jewel showing me some love. I brought her downstairs cause she wasn't walking well, and fed her some canned food cause she couldn't eat the dry food. She ate, slept, and stayed inside for 2 days. Today she is back to her old self, swelling gone. Our neighbor thinks she got into a fight with a raccoon; around here they are horrible vicious animals. And she walked away. Jewel is one tough bitch.

Nothing much to this story, I just thought some of you might either find this amusing, or inspirational. She could get run over twice and fall off a cliff and she'd still make it. She has the most awesome disposition of a cat. And I really am starting to believe she'll be around forever.