The Rest of The Story

Because I want to remember every detail of Bennett's birth long after other memories take the place of what is currently front and center in my brain, this post is dedicated to the details of April 20, 2013. Read at your own risk!

But first, let's go back a little bit....

My due date was April 14th. This is what's on the paperwork, but I do remember my very first ultrasound predicting my due date as the 18th. Thus, I always knew there was a small margin of flexibility in the actual date. Further, both Bailey and Nolan were late, so that variable added more uncertainty about when to expect our baby. On top of all that, my doctor indicated the growth of my uterus early on as ahead of where it "should be" but then closer to my due date I was measuring smaller than average. Again, all this made me relatively unsure of whether the baby would come early, on time, or late. He chose late. :-)

As if we could control this situation, we had all these wishes about when would be the ideal time for the baby to be born. Some of these were based on Jason's school schedule and planned exams, another was based on Bailey's state testing at school. She had a lot of anxiety about missing school during testing, but certainly didn't want to miss her brother's birth. I felt really great throughout my pregnancy, so I was happy to let the baby stay put as long as was necessary in order to get through some of these difficult and anxious moments for others in my family. Again, I say this like I could have controlled it! But, in a way I felt like I could will him to stay put far more than I could will him to come out!!

Like I said, I felt great. That is, I felt great until the last few days. Physically, nothing dramatic changed, but I found myself going downhill emotionally. After my due date came and went on Sunday, the following days showing up at work to everyone's well-intentioned, "You're STILL here?!" comments started to weigh on me. I realized it was not a big deal and the baby wouldn't stay inside me forever, but by Thursday I felt a significant shift. I was depressed and overly emotional. I had planned to work up until the delivery, but in the middle of the night Thursday night I decided that I deserved to stay home Friday. In fact, I then decided that Friday would be a day of fun/house projects that would have nothing to do with the baby. And, frankly, it was just what the doctor ordered. I did laundry, shampooed my carpets, gave the dog a bath and a haircut, took Nolan to lunch and out shopping for a bit, and then played outside with both kids when Bailey got out of school.

As someone wise once said, "a watched pot never boils." As soon as I stopped obsessing over when the baby would arrive, guess what? The baby arrived. On Friday night, Jason and I stayed up kind of late watching t.v., and went to bed right before midnight. I had been sleeping on the couch for the better part of the last month as my once-glorious bed had become quite uncomfortable. At 1:00 a.m. I awoke from a dream in which I was having a very painful contraction. In my dream, I told myself that I better wake up because this wasn't really a dream. Ha! Yep, I was having a contraction.

Per my plan that anticipated labor being similar to labor with Nolan, where I timed contractions at home until they were 8 minutes apart and then went to the hospital about 5 hours into the process, I immediately got my phone and prepared to chart my contractions on a cool app I downloaded. I sat on the couch, poised and ready to wait 15? 20? minutes for the next one. And then I had another one less than 3 minutes later. This surprised me, but I thought it was probably just an irregularity and until the contractions became regular, it was likely just false labor. Then I had another one 2 1/2 minutes later.....and they continued coming less than 3 minutes apart. I also had an incredible feeling of pressure, which panicked me a bit. I also passed some blood, which had never happened to me before. I didn't THINK I would be having a home birth, but how did I know? Needless to say, I woke Jason and told him I was scared and didn't know how to handle this new situation. We debated for a minute about what to do, particularly in regard to the kids. Eventually, we decided we would just go and if necessary Jeanne and Phil could take them back home. We each called our parents and alerted them that it was "go time."

Upon arriving at the hospital, the nurse took us to what I affectionately refer to as the "holding tank" for monitoring. They checked me and said I was dilated to a 4. I expected that to be sufficient proof that I was, indeed, going to have a baby, but they said they were going to monitor me for an hour to see if I progressed. Progressed to what?? Were they going to send me home having contractions every 2 minutes and dilated to a 4? I'm pretty sure I got an epidural with Nolan when I was at a 5, so this perplexed me. In any case, our parents arrived and I suffered through pounding contractions for an hour. At that point, I was at a 5 and they called the on-call doctor to determine whether they should admit me. Again, really?

When they finally took me to a permanent room, I was really struggling. Everyone there said they had no idea that I was in as much pain as I was and I guess that's a good thing. I had a nurse who kept telling me how great I was doing, and I somehow kept myself from telling her to shut up. :-) I asked for a barf bag as I thought for a bit that I was going to throw up. The nurses assured me that they would immediately call for the anesthesiologist and it wouldn't be long before I could have an epidural. I'm sure it wasn't that long, but it seemed to take forever. I remembered contractions being painful, and increasingly so, but I'm pretty sure I hadn't previously experienced the downward pressure that I was experiencing. With each contraction, I felt that my bottom half would simply explode. I was starting to feel out of control when the anesthesiologist arrived to give me hope. :-) Then the epidural took almost 45 minutes, as the doctor had trouble threading the catheter into my back due to some scar tissue from my previous epidurals. Ugh. I've always feared the epidural (but feared the alternative even MORE) but I told my mother that I didn't care if he cut a hole in my back in order to squirt the medicine in if he would just get it done!

And then it WAS done and I started to feel some relief. Unlike my other two, I still had a lot of sensation (including the pressure feeling with each contraction) but not much actual pain. I wasn't complaining. This is when I began to enjoy the experience with the kids, my parents, Jason's parents, etc. They checked me and I was at a 7. Jason and others went to get breakfast (think it was around 6:30?) and I just relaxed. When they returned, I got a popsicle, which I gladly ate because I had still been feeling like I might get sick, I'm sure from the medicine.

Then we started wondering if they were ever going to come check me again. The nurses were preoccupied with trying to get hold of my doctor and determine whether she would be here for the delivery or if they needed to contact the on-call doctor. I didn't really care. My doctor has yet to deliver one of my children, so this was not a shock to me when they came back and said it would likely be the on-call doctor. At some point, I told the nurse that I thought my water had broken. She looked and said she didn't think so but would check me in a bit. A long bit. Finally, another nurse came in and asked if my water had broken. I told her I thought so earlier, but the nurse didn't think so, but that I continued to feel fluid. She then checked me and said, "Oh, yeah it's gone and you're completely dilated." I wonder how long that had been the case.

Then, things started moving in fast-motion. The nurses came in and started bringing supplies and getting my bed ready. A moment of comic relief came when the nurses started bickering over how to operate this new bed that they had just received. Each had a different opinion about how to adjust the leg stirrups. I sat there patiently, but feeling more anxious by the second. Where was the doctor?

Somewhere in there, we decided to let Bailey watch the delivery from up behind my head. Jeanne and my mom also stayed, and I think they both really enjoyed that experience. As we were waiting, one nurse suggested I push one time to get the baby ready for when the doctor got there. I remember thinking I didn't think that was a good idea, but I complied because I'm a rules follower. When I did, she immediately told me to stop. The doctor came in and quickly assessed the situation. She then told the nurses she didn't like how I was positioned, so there was more discussion about the newfangled bed. Jason quietly said, "The baby is coming." He saw the head, and yet the doc was still repositioning me. Then Jason got a little louder, "The baby is really coming!" I wasn't pushing or anything, but was instead watching the doctor struggle to get her gloves on in time to catch the baby. It was pretty funny, if it hadn't been a little scary to think that things were happening so quickly!

And then he was born. Jason didn't get to cut the cord this time, as the cord was wrapped around Bennett's neck, which required a little more doctor's care/intervention than usual. That was a momentary concern, which was resolved without problem and then Bennett was whisked over to the evaluation area and his nurses worked him over and then weighed and measured him. I got a big kick out of watching the kids say their first hellos to their baby brother. I also got a kick out of the fact that Bennett weighed 7.11. Bailey was 7.13, Nolan was 7.12, and now I had one that was another stair step down from there. So funny!

So there you have it....the rest of the story. The simple version is this: hard labor, super easy delivery. I honestly don't know how people do it without an epidural. Of course, just like with other things, I think expectations are key. Had I planned on not getting one, perhaps I would have been more mentally prepared to endure the labor. And, now that it's all behind me, it wasn't that bad and completely worth it. I'm glad I had three very different experiences to remember and reflect upon. I loved them all just like I love each of those crazy kiddos!

K

Welcome Bennett Warner Cox!

He's here! Little Bennett decided to arrive a little late - 6 days, in fact. Now that he's here, though, none of that waiting matters. We are over the moon for our little guy and will be posting about all his developments.

This post is picture-heavy, but hopefully gives you a sense of our experience. I did leave out the pictures of the hard labor and before I got an epidural. I figure no one cares to see pictures of a woman in pain. :-)

Here's when we first got to the hospital, but hadn't yet been admitted.

The kids got settled in for a long night. They were awesome, despite being pulled out of bed at 2:00 a.m.

We all got popsicles. Well, I got a popsicle, as that's all I could eat. Everyone else had McDonald's and still managed to charm the nurses into a popsicle.

And then it was almost time. Bailey chose to stay in the room for the birth! Jeanne and my mom also watched, which was a special experience.

And then he was here.

 

 

He is a loved little boy.

One of my favorite pictures ever, as this was completely spontaneous. I'm talking to the baby and the kids are posing (that's Nolan's Spiderman btw).

And then it was time to go home.

And now we begin our life with this new "little blessed one." His name and its meaning is fitting, as he is blessed and so are we!

By a Thread....

Today is 40 weeks, 5 days. My ability to wait patiently is diminishing as I type. I didn't go to work today as I think the constant barrage of well-intentioned people saying, "You're STILL here?" was just weighing on me too much. Instead, today I shampooed my carpets, did some laundry, picked Nolan up from school and took him to lunch and for a bit of shopping, and am now in line to get Bailey from school.

The sense of normalcy has been comforting. That said, pray this baby makes his move SOON!

Holding On

I particularly enjoy the part of my pregnancies when people ask when I'm due and I get to say, "Yesterday" or "Last week." It always throws people for a loop, especially if I'm at the gym or at work or someplace the average person doesn't expect a 40+ week pregnant woman to be hanging out.

Alas, this is my reality.

And, frankly, that's okay. Today has been a hard one, with the news of Officer Chad Peery's death and the explosions at the Boston Marathon. Tragedies have an uncanny way of putting life and our problems into perspective.

So, we wait on our little guy and remain thankful for a healthy pregnancy and the joy he has brought us already.

In other news, Nolan FINALLY went to the doctor for his 5-year appointment. I couldn't take him until now because a few years ago, I didn't schedule his appointment until April so now we're perpetually on that schedule even though his birthday is in December. Anywhoo....

Nolan is a healthy guy who is now in the 56th percentile for height and 67th for weight! I couldn't believe it. But take a look at these legs and perhaps you'll see what the numbers see. He was anticipating his shots in this pic, so he doesn't appear to be loving life. :-)

Until the next update.....

K

Close, But No Cigar

Today, I'm 39 weeks, 3 days pregnant. It looks like #3 is going to follow the pattern of the first two and cook to well done.

This is really okay by me, as I still feel pretty great (for the most part). However, "tired of being pregnant" and "want to meet him" are definitely converging in ways that make time stand still. :-) 

I've managed to stay fairly sane throughout my pregnancy and only recently had my first (and hopefully last) emotional breakdown.  Two other women in my department were pregnant, with one due at the end of April and the other due at the beginning of May. Lo and behold, both of them delivered last week. While I am certainly happy for them and did my fair share of praying for the babies to be healthy despite their early arrivals (they are), the fact that this was not how things were "supposed to" go put me over the edge for a quick minute. I got asked about 72 times, "Weren't you supposed to go first?" Why yes, yes I was.

Jason did not at all understand why this elicited such a strong emotional response. He knows I don't particularly want to deliver early, for all kinds of reasons including his remaining school tests that are likely to make our early days with an infant a little more difficult. As I explained to him, it's not that I want to deliver early, I just want everyone else to deliver on time! It seems like every single person I know (exaggeration alert) gets to skip those final days where their stomachs are simply stretched beyond belief. Of course, I do have to acknowledge that the flip side for them is that neither was likely as prepared as they would have liked, which carries different challenges. Thus, I got over my moment and have moved on to a more productive and healthy attitude. :-)

So now we continue to wait for the little boy who will change us - hopefully in only good ways - forever. Everyone and everything is ready....see ya when we see ya, little guy.

The Precipice of Fear vs. The Promise of Prayer

Less than 3 weeks.

In less than 3 weeks the Cox Clan will have a new member.

This is exciting - of course it is - but having a baby is also quite a scary venture. I think every family is a bit nervous about either the birth itself or simply the unknown reality of the new life to come. 

I have been pretty calm throughout this pregnancy, but I've now started worrying about all the things that could go wrong or that won't meet my expectations. The time has come for fear to walk alongside me like an old friend. 

And yet I hate fear. Typically, if I hate something, I very easily eliminate it from my life. I hate nuts, so I don't order food with nuts in them. I hate car racing, so I don't watch the Indy 500 on t.v. But with fear, I somehow let it claim a spot next to me like he deserves it and like I have no choice in the matter. It's as if I'm comforted by his presence instead of irritated by it. 

I realize this is my daily struggle and, ultimately, a product of my own personal brand of the sinful nature we all possess. I also know that fear personified is Satan. How can I stand to let Satan court me so closely?

I don't have the answer to how I permanently turn away from fear. What I do know is that today is Good Friday and what a better day to publicly lay down my fears at the feet of my Savior. I know - really know - that Jesus' death and resurrection is the only antidote to my fear but I must be an active participant in regularly casting my cares upon Him. The challenge is that we are not promised a life free of heartache and pain, but my family and I ARE promised an eternity with our Creator reaping the unfathomable rewards of Heaven. Today, I'd like to acknowledge that promise by being obedient in prayer.

So here are my prayers for today, Lord, as I prepare to perpetuate the miracle of life you have graciously given us. I know some of these prayers are bigger than others, and some might seem quite silly in the big picture, but you tell us that you hear them all the same and that's very comforting to me. 

Lord, I pray that:

1. The baby is born completely healthy and experiences no significant health challenges after birth.

2. I do not have to have a C-section or experience any other labor/delivery complications.

3. I will clearly know when to go to the hospital and with enough time for me to get an epidural.

4. Jason is not in school when I do have to go to the hospital and that Bailey is not in the middle of her CRT testing....or that there is enough time for everyone to get where they need to go without too much stress.

5. I am kind to my family and friends even when I am stressed, scared, or in pain. 

6. We are able to effectively balance the needs of our newborn with the needs of Jason's last few weeks of school.

7. Bailey and Nolan do not feel less loved or ignored because of the needs of the baby and that each adjusts well to the changes the baby brings to our lives.

8. We feel good about our choice of a name.

9. I do not have to make difficult choices about work/family balance during my maternity leave due to the big RFP we are expecting to hit the street at any time.

10. My staff feels well-equipped to manage my time away from the office.

11. I do not experience postpartum depression. 

12. I have adequate milk supply and no other major challenges to breastfeeding.

13. Jason and I effectively communicate and nurture our couple relationship despite the ever-changing dynamics of life and family.

14. You will cover us with peace about finances, both during my leave and over the next year.

15. We do not let the small challenges of this phase of life detract from the small joys of our growing family.

16. You help us navigate the minutes and hours should any of the above prayers not be answered to our earthly satisfaction.

Amen.

Is This Really Happening?: 36 Weeks

I blow my own mind when I say it out loud. We are approximately 4 weeks from welcoming Baby Cox #3!

We should probably get serious about picking a name. :-) I don't know why the name has stumped us so much this time. Obviously, there are my rules (which range from valid to ridiculous). A few days ago, Jason pointed out that a difference for us this time around is that we don't have any connection to a name. With Bailey, we were naming her "after" the baby being carried by a firefighter in the infamous OKC bombing picture. We didn't know that child, but we fell in love with the name as a result of spending time with those horrendous images. Then, her middle name, Celeste, is the name of a family member on Jason's side of the family. Nolan is my grandfather, father, and brother's middle name. Then, his middle name, Philip, is Jason's dad's name and Jason's middle name.

Unless we want to use a name like Clarence or Axel, we've now run out of acceptable family names. I guess it just feels like more of a random choice without those connections to tether us to a name. Wish us luck!!

A few weeks ago, we ventured outside to take some DIY maternity pictures. I've never been super interested in baring my stomach for a picture - even when I'm not pregnant - but I'm really trying to embrace every aspect of this (likely) last pregnancy, so I decided to go for it. Now, I wasn't going to actually pay someone to take said pictures, so we asked my mom to play photographer. My only expectation was to capture a few images for us to keep as a reminder of this time in our lives. All in all, I think they turned out okay, with the exception of an extreme glare on some of my super cute props. Booooo! I suppose we are not professional photographers and don't think about these things.

Here are a few of the pics. Enjoy!