Karis' Birth Story in Installments - Part 2

[Wow, time is flying.  It's already the next Wednesday, and Karis is 6 weeks old.  She smiles.  She is really cute.  See?

Continuing on....  Part 1 is here.]

Since this could be for real, we started to time and write down contractions.  I got up, washed my face, got dressed, and started to gather things to pack for the hospital.  I think I ate something, and remember drinking a Gatorade. 

6:37    41 seconds
6:40    1 min 13 sec
6:45    39 sec
6:48    33 sec
6:51    54 sec
6:54    40 sec
6:59    46 sec
7:01    40 sec
7:03    52 sec
7:06    1 min 2 sec

As you can see, things were getting more intense.  That's when we stopped timing, and kicked into high gear.
I called the doctor, I called my mom.  I talked to the doctor, who said he'd let the hospital know to expect me; Sam talked to my mom, since I was busy throwing up my Gatorade off the back deck.  They would come to the house right away, to stay with Lizzie, who was still sleeping. 

[Here it is Friday morning.  Coffee is consumed.  Everyone else is sleeping.  Sam has been laid off again.  That's another story.]

We scurried around getting everything together - at least I had made a list of things to bring to the hospital, and put together a pile in the corner of the room for when it was "time".  Contractions were rough.  They were all in my back.  It was not the way I wanted to have contractions.  I remember having to hurry to try to pack something between contractions, because I once one started, I couldn't concentrate on anything else, and probably the most frequently said phrase was, "ohhhhhh, Jesus help me."  I spent a lot of time on all fours.  I barked instructions to Sam, who was trying to make sure everything was in order for us to leave:  "Don't forget the toothbrushes. ... Where's the phone charger? ... There are cold water bottles in the fridge."  If you asked me how it was going, I would have told you that everyone was moving way too slowly and we needed to  be at the hospital at that very moment.

A little before 8 AM my parents arrived, and shortly afterward Lizzie woke up.  Fortunately we had been prepping her for when her grandparents would stay with her, so that we could go to the hospital and bring home baby Karis.  She hung out with my mom while we finished packing, and she watched me wide eyed when I got on the floor and moaned my way through contractions.  I was trying not to worry her, but it's kind of hard to not look like you're uncomfortable in a contraction.  (A couple weeks later, she copied me, getting on all fours and moaning.  Then she looked up at me proudly, "mama! push baby out!"  I just stared at her.  What the heck?!)  We finally gave Lizzie hugs and kisses, and made it out the door.  I had 2 contractions before we even got out of the driveway.  Being strapped into the front seat was not going to be fun. 

On the way out I had enough focus to send a text to Steph, "going to hospital" ... She replied asking if I was able to talk; my answer, "no talk. you can text the word out."  I was not my usual text-chatty self.  Within minutes she was also in her car and ready to meet us at the hospital. 

We live only about 20 minutes from the hospital, but it being 8 AM on a weekday, we were concerned about traffic.  After being stopped at one red light, we prayed earnestly for green lights all the rest of the way.  Praise God, the prayer was answered!  We rolled all the way there, not having to stop until we got to the hospital parking lot!  Sam ran in to get a wheel chair (he is so smart - I never would have thought of that, and would have tried to crawl my way in the double doors).  Check-in went smoothly, even though I spent half of it with my head on the counter.

Then they wheeled me back to a room to check my progress.  It was no later than 8:30 AM.  Guess what? I was already to 5 cm!  I laughed in relief.  Half way there, and we just got to the hospital!  I was unbelievably grateful, and so glad I didn't have to be set up with an IV for antibiotics for Group B Strep like last time.  They asked me about my preferences in pain management, and I told them I wanted to try for all natural, but like last time I was not opposed to having something to help. 

I don't remember when Steph showed up, but we were hardly there before she came in and started making herself useful.  In fact, I think she was even there when they were trying to get the IV set up (for the just in case).  Our only complaint in the whole hospital experience was the tech who tried to place my IV.  She basically did a terrible job, and even when I was holding my hand absolutely still, and I don't have hard veins to get, she was moving the needle all around and accusing me of moving.  Are you kidding?  I'm a woman in labor having intense contractions; even if I do move--which I didn't--that's no excuse for doing a crappy job and having to try a second time.  Sam was ready to throw her out and request someone else if she didn't get it right.  After that, everything went smoothly and every other nurse and tech was awesome.

My midwife showed up, encouraged me, and went back to her office (only a couple minutes away).  I had had an appointment for an ultrasound scheduled for that afternoon, and I remember telling her, "You can let the girls in the office know I won't make it in later."  She laughed.  While I wasn't in contractions, I actually was in a pretty good mood.  I laughed.  Sam talked to the nurses, asking loads of questions.  Steph gave me sips of water--her chilled Dasani, even--and pushed my hair out of my face.  She sent text updates to our small group, and had called our pastor to let him know what was going down.  I remember her asking me if I wanted her to post a facebook update, but then we got interrupted and it didn't happen. 

I spent nearly the whole time backwards on the bed, leaning against the raised head of the bed.  When I had back labor with Lizzie, nothing seemed to help except lying on my side and having Sam press with all his might on the small of my back.  This time pressure didn't seem to make it better, but I kept wanting Sam to keep his hand on my back where the contractions were.  The warmth of his hand made them better.  I would occasionally tell him to move his hand to one spot or another, but I never wanted him to apply pressure on my back.

Around 10 AM, the nurse decided to check me, and as I was moving onto my back I was mentally running through my options.  If I had not progressed very far, if I were only at a 6 or a 7, I definitely wanted some kind of pain relief.  As well as it was going, I was not really enjoying the process.  But it felt kind of different when the nurse checked, and I was elated (well, as elated as I could be) when she said, "You're doing great. You're to 9 centimeters!"  I definitely got a second wind at that point--we're almost there!  They called the midwife, who arrived within minutes and checked me again.  She said there was a little bit left to go, but that I could push at will, since I was starting to feel pressure.

So there I was, laying on my left side, thinking, not 'I'm going to have a baby in a few minutes,' or 'I get to meet Karis soon,' but 'I don't want to tear again,' and 'In a few minutes, I won't be pregnant anymore!'  I felt the burn and was a little afraid to push, but pushed a little at a time, really just doing what I felt was natural.  I only pushed during contractions, resting between them.  About 15 minutes of slow and steady pushing later, at 10:20 AM, Karis Michelle was born.  Sam said that as soon as her head came out, they checked her neck for the cord, and suctioned her mouth and nose.  Then she gave out a good and loud wail and out she came.  There was no tearing, just "a surface scratch" that needed no stitches.  Sam got to cut the cord after a few minutes, and she latched on to nurse perfectly.

She weighed in at 7 lbs, 2 oz, and 19" long.  I think.  We have it written down somewhere, thankfully. Her eyes were a dark, dark color, and it took hours of staring at her to realize that they were a dark blue.  At this point, now that she is 6 weeks old, her eyes are a dark gray, sometimes looking like a dark hazel.  It's still a mystery what color her eyes will end up. 

Within just a few minutes, we were all oohing and ahhing and cuddling the newest baby.  We were moved to a recovery room on the 2nd floor, and Steph helped us settle in, unpacking some of the bags and setting bags and shoes in the mini closet and arranging things on the side table.

Karis' first visitors were our pastor, Brother John, and James who was meeting with him when Steph called him to let him know the news.  Then Brent came and stayed for a couple of hours.  My parents came with Lizzie in the afternoon, and got to meet her.  Scott came a few hours later, and so did Becky, who is expecting a girl in November.  Becky brought us Five Guys burgers and fries.  Becky is awesome.

Karis is a wonderful baby so far.  She eats well, sleeps well, burps well, poops well.  And she is full of rolls and chubbiness.  The Lord knows that if you have a 2 year old, you need to have an easy baby.  We are so grateful that, while challenging at times, every day has been so full of grace.

[Linking up with Home Sanctuary's Company Girl Coffee.  Finally.]  :-)

Karis' birth story in installments - part 1

Good morning.  It's after 8 AM, I am half done with my coffee, Karis has been fed and is napping on the Boppy next to me on the couch, and Lizzie is actually still in bed - the first time she has "slept in" past 7:30 in several weeks.  So, since it has been a full month since Karis was born, it is high time for me to write her birth story. 

July 3rd and 4th were the first two consecutive days that Sam did not have to work [Lizzie is up and thrilled to see that Karis is still living at our house this morning.  I guess I spoke too soon.], so on the 3rd we focused on relaxing, and on the 4th, we got serious about getting prepared for the new addition.  We had stowed all of the infant baby stuff in the attic above the garage, and needed to drag them out, wash them, and put them in their appropriate places.  In order to access the attic, however, we needed to make room for the attic stairs to come down into the garage.  The garage was actually somewhat perilous to try to walk through, because it was so full of crazy clutter and disorganization.  So we spent several hours simply rearranging the garage and throwing away a lot of junk.  Oh, and did I mention that it was well over 90 degrees and humid?

My 39 week pregnant self spent at least 4 hours in the garage, evaluating whether to keep or to toss, keeping Lizzie happy by coloring with highlighter markers we'd found in a box, and then rearranging things long after Sam and Lizzie went inside for a break and naps.  I was highly motivated, and didn't want to lose any momentum.  We were getting the stuff out of the attic, and we were getting ready for this baby.

Due to all the heat and all the activity, I was getting slightly dehydrated, so I did my best to keep drinking water and a Gatorade throughout the day.  I was feeling kind of crampy, but that was surely due to doing so much and needing to drink more water.  Surely.

Besides cleaning the garage, I also washed and dried all of our laundry (but did not put it away), washed most of the baby stuff. including the car seat cover, I made lunch and dinner and cleaned up both meals, changed the bed sheets, and got the guest room half-way ready for my parents to stay with Lizzie.  I also wiped down the kitchen counter, scoured the grimy stovetop, and rearranged the spice cupboard (because that was clearly urgent).  At some point I even started fussing at Sam because he was just relaxing on his day off, and I needed him to keep working.  I was partially right, but I could have been nicer about it.

After all that, I finally showered and fell into bed around 12:30 a.m..  I was worn out and my back was hurting.  Because of all that work, of course.  Then I remember looking at the time on my cell phone at around 4:30, I had been awake for a little while with cramps in my lower back.  They were not very relaxing, and I couldn't sleep between them.  I stayed in bed, though, and didn't wake Sam up.  If these were real contractions, I needed both of us to get as much rest as we could.

When Sam's alarm to go to work went off at 6:30, I had not gotten any more sleep, and I told him, "You might not be going to work today."  The contractions were getting more and more uncomfortable.

[And I'm back.  Coffee is long gone, but I'm debating whether to make a second cup.  It is almost 3 in the afternoon, and both girls are napping.  Well, I take that back; one girl is in her bed, singing to herself, and may or may not sleep; the other girl has been in her bed for a long time, and will likely wake up soon, starving.  ... Yeah, like now.  So much for that.]

[And I'm back again.  I started writing that on Friday, and here it is Wednesday evening.  More will come...]

Good morning, Lizzie

[This is the transcript of exactly everything Lizzie has said since waking up and coming into the living room with me and Karis]

I'm sitting on the couch, with K propped on the Boppy, and the laptop in front of me.

"It's Baby Karis!
Awake now!"
Yes, she's awake now.

"Need her pacifier.
Got it.
Holding it,
In her hand."

Did you have a good sleep? "Yeah"

Pointing at K, then at me.  "Need milk."

She already had milk.  Now she's sitting here. 
"Holdin it" (pacifier)
(K sneezes) "ha-too!"
"This is Lizzie's boppy."  Can you share it with her, since you don't use it anymore?  "Yeah."
"That's baby Karis!"
"Want some applesauce."  You want applesauce? "No!"

(Looking at Karis' face)  "I see one eye.  I see two eyes!  Like that!"  (giggle)
(sniffing K's head) what are you doing?  "Smelling her hair."
Max sniffs my cup of coffee.  "Whoa, maximus, no! Silly cat."

(I smell unpleasant odors from both, so there are diaper changes all around.)  Do you want me to change you first, or Karis first?  "Karis."  (She follows me into the other room while I change Karis, then sings while I change her.)

Pointing at a dried leaf fragment on the floor:  "Not poop, just a leaf.  Broken leaf."
Climbing into my lap after her diaper change: "This is my mother."

"Down! Two, three, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, down!"

"Puh puh peanut!" (Yes, Blues Clues taught us something!)
Do you want peanut butter on a graham cracker?  "No."

(Sitting next to me.)  "Sit down right here."  (Then on arm of couch.)  No, not there.  "Fall down get hurt.  Cry."

Pointing at 3 buttons (Publish / Save / Preview) on screen, "Mommy, Daddy, Lizzie."

I guess I will push the "Mommy" button now, to publish this.

Welcome Karis!

She's here!

Karis Michelle was born on July 5, perfect and beautiful.  She weighed 7 lbs, 2 oz at birth, and is a healthy and content baby. 

Her name, Karis,  means grace. (We pronounce it like 'care-iss,' not the way it sounds at the link, though.)

1. that which affords joy, pleasure, delight, sweetness, charm, loveliness: grace of speech

Who wouldn't want to speak that over one's daughter?  Not to mention, grace is much needed while we navigate this new adventure of parenting two girls.

Lizzie goes back and forth between adoring her baby sister ("bay-ee sisser") and acting up out of feeling displaced.  It's a bit of a struggle to keep her on an even keel, but over all, she is doing well.

It is kind of a strange and wonderful thing to refer to them as "the girls."  We have girls, plural. 

The last week of being home has honestly been better than I expected (again, grace), and I am feeling great.  Sleep has been rare, but we are getting what we need.  Friends from church have been bringing meals and adorable outfits. We are blessed.


I'll do my best to share my birth story soon (it's a good one), but I did at least want to give an update.  Lizzie is up and asking for a bagel, so I had better get it while Karis sleeps, and before Lizzie changes her mind.

(I'm linking with Alicia's Homemaking Try New Adventures, and Home Sanctuary's virtual Coffee with the Company Girls.)

Lizzie's 2nd Birthday {Top 10}

We just had Lizzie's 2nd birthday party on Sunday. It was a blast!

Now that I have hosted 2 birthday parties for my little girl, I think I've learned a couple of things.

Here are my top 10 birthday party tips

1 - Plan more than 5 days in advance. As my due date approaches rapidly, I realized that the month of June would be gone before I knew it, and Lizzie had been looking forward to a birthday party for weeks. So at the last minute I talked to my family, wrote up invitations, and jumped into high gear on preparations.
*bonus: avoid planning a birthday party for the 37th week of your pregnancy. I won't say much more than this: hormones, exhaustion, irrationality, irritability, and a time constraint.

2 - Do choose a theme. Last year, Lizzie was into balloons, so the "theme" was balloons. It gives a direction for the party, even if it's not anything elaborate. This year, several months ago, I found these super cute Very Hungry Caterpillar invitations at Target on clearance. So for $1.48 I had my theme. And Lizzie was on a Very Hungry Caterpillar kick, so it worked perfectly.

3 - Don't plan your birthday party on a holiday. For some reason, people tend to not have 1-3 PM free on Father's Day. Go figure. I knew it was a risk, but I knew it was going to be the day that worked for my family, and if some friends could come too, all the better. The reality is that if everyone I'd invited could have come, we would never have had enough space. We definitely would have had enough food, though!

4 - Be realistic about time. Within a 2 hour birthday party for a two-year-old, there's enough time to eat, blow out candles, eat cake, open presents, and hand out favors. If you want to add games or crafts or other activities, give yourself a longer time frame, or don't count on feeding people a full meal.
*bonus: don't plan it during a toddler's naptime. Lizzie was getting so sleepy while opening presents, she was almost impossible to move her from one gift to the next. Of course, she also LOVED her gifts and wanted to spend an hour playing with each one. Again, be realistic about time.

5 - Get as much as possible done before the party. This party was lunch immediately after church, which meant that not only did we have to prepare for the party, I had to get myself and a slow-moving child out the door and presentable for church, all before 9:30 AM. Although a little bit of last minute preparation is inevitable, I didn't want to still be decorating or laying out food as guests arrived. 
*bonus: pick up a couple of pizzas the night before, so you don't have to plan dinner the night before hosting a party, then have leftovers after the party.  I had everything cleaned up and put away shortly after everyone left, and got to enjoy a clean house, and a refrigerator stuffed with leftovers.

the spread! 
"and that night, he had a stomach ache."

6 - So, make lists--lots and lots of lists. I made a list of decorations and where they would go, a list of things to go in the favor bags, a list of things that needed to be done to the house, a grocery list, a "we forgot it at the grocery store so we have to go back" list, and a food list. The smartest thing I think I did was to make a map of the table layout, down to which tray would hold which food. It saved me many minutes of standing in the middle of the kitchen feeling confused.

7 - Ask someone else to help with pictures. While hostessing, tending to a busy toddler, and trying to eat herself, Mommy doesn't have time to take good pics. I mostly got a lot of poorly timed 'candid' shots. Fortunately, I did at least take pictures of the food, which I was kind of proud of.

8 - Apply a 'make your own' concept to foods for picky eaters (i.e., toddlers). We did a sandwich and fruit buffet, and cupcakes. Avoid the need for flatware. Use paper products so cleanup is a cinch.

Fact: multicolored clothes cover a multitude of stains

9 - Dress the birthday girl in multi-colored clothes, to hide the frosting dyed with half a bottle of artificial coloring. This was an accidental discovery, but I'm quite pleased with it.


10 - Enjoy the party!  Engage your guests, hug your birthday girl, read a story, laugh!

Sam takes a minute to read Harry the Dirty Dog

Let some things slide; perfection is not realistic. It's a party for a two year old, for crying out loud. If you Yes, I ran out of time to assemble PB&J sandwiches for the folks who didn't want lunchmeat. Yes, I forgot to slice the plums. No, we didn't get to do the "beautiful butterfly" craft I had ready to go just in case there was a lull. No, I didn't get to make every decoration I had wanted to. But there comes a point where it is necessary to stop the prep and enjoy yourself and your guests and your child. I'm glad I managed to do that. It was a lovely party, Lizzie was beaming from all the attention and the fun, and a good time was had by all.

Happy birthday, beautiful Lizzie!  You're the most amazing little girl I know.

So, about pregnancy

36 weeks, 3 days. Almost full term. Almost done being pregnant for the second time. Almost ready.

On an online forum someone posed the question, "What will you miss most about being pregnant?"

Really? Nothing. There is not a thing that I will miss about being pregnant, except maybe having the option to choose approximately when I sleep. Once Lizzie came, I never looked back.

That's not to say that I don't enjoy feeling movement, or getting a little extra courtesy at the grocery store. It's just that being pregnant is all about the hopefulness of what is to come. It's like waiting for a seed to come up out of the ground. The germination process is not what it's about, and frankly, it's hardly the fun part. (Perhaps the reason I haven't written a whole lot about my pregnancy has something to do with the fact that I don't want to come across as a complainer. I like the end result of pregnancy: a child. I am just not a fan of pregnancy in and of itself. Or maybe I just don't like my pregnant self all that much.)

Feeling her roll and kick and punch me in the bladder is all well and good, but inspecting her little feet and having her pull my hair with her little tiny fingers are infinitely better. Seeing my belly move when she gets hiccups or suddenly decides to change position is nothing like what it will be to look in her big eyes. Hearing her heartbeat (or as Lizzie says, "heart beep") on the doppler every couple of weeks is fun and reassuring, but I can't wait to hear her actual sweet little voice.

Sorm Fopt

I suppose you'll need a translation?

"S'orm Fopt" is the phonetic spelling of "storm stopped" in Lizzie-speak. We've just had a series of pretty intense thunderstorms blow through in the past few hours. At one point, when the trees were rocking and the dog was pacing, I told Lizzie that we would pray and ask Jesus to keep us safe in the storm. She had just gotten up from a nap and was still in that dazed, just-woke-up state. Her face brightened when I suggested we pray, because she gets "s'ared" when there is "tunner outside".

She likes to pray; she likes the story in her Baby's First Bible about Jesus being in the boat with his friends, and Jesus told the wind to stop blowing and the waves to be still, and Jesus could make the storm stop.

"Desus mate s'orm fop."

So we prayed. And the storm blew by much more quickly than I'd anticipated. Even minutes later on the radar on the weather update, there was a dip where there was less color over our area.

There were further waves of thunderstorm, but when Lizzie got scared as I tucked her into bed (it was quite an extended tucking in process) she asked me several times to pray: "Desus amen."

Because Desus mate s'orm go 'way. Because He likes to prove Himself to the little ones.