Post-Crosby

I have TWO children.  Isn't that crazy?

It might not be to you, but it is to me.

The thing is, I've been thinking about writing this blog for a bit, but I don't want to jinx it...because things are really good, and the transition has been (ssshhhh!) fairly easy.

Before I had Crosby everyone would tell me all the time how difficult it was to go from one child to two children.  They would also tell me how it gets easier from 2-3 and 3-4.  Now, I don't want to jinx anything, but it totally hasn't been a difficult transition, or at least it hasn't been difficult in the way I thought it was going to be.

For example, right now Finn is watching an episode of Mickey Mouse, after spending the morning playing with his cousin Addy.  Crosby is sleeping in his swing.  I am sitting here working on the first month of Crosby's baby book and writing this blog.

Don't get me wrong...recovering from the c-section has been (really) difficult, the nasty disgusting spinal headaches and the blood patch were (literally) one of the most horrifying things I've ever experienced.  However, once that was over...life has been so much easier than it was when we brought Finn home.  Crosby has been an AMAZING nurser, and a better sleeper than Finn was.  But it's more than that...I am just so much more comfortable being a mother.  I feel like I know something about what I'm doing.  I'm not second guessing each and every decision I make.  I am not crying about nursing, or how much it hurts, or whether or not I am doing it wrong every second of every day.

And, I can't help but wonder if it's because of me, or if Crosby just fits so perfectly into our little family.

It's like he was meant to be here.  I know he was, don't get me wrong, but I just didn't expect him to fit so perfectly.  It's like he was never NOT here, and it makes me so happy to know that that's how Finn will remember it.  Finn will never know a time without Crosby (though I will cherish those two years where he was my one and only baby), and Crosby will never know a time without Finn.  There is something amazing about that.

So, I guess what I am rambling on and on about is that...life is good.  Crosby is such a good little baby, so sweet, quiet and content.  Finn is such a good big brother.  This was another surprise...not that he is a good big brother, but that he is so conscientious of being quiet and gentle around the baby.  He has not once been resentful, or mad at Crosby.  He's been mad at me, but never ever at Crosby.

It just fits.  It feels right.

Crosby Emerson

Everyone and their mother kept telling me he was coming early, but I didn't think so, I thought just on time, or a little late...maybe 1-2 days late. Bernie (our midwife) told me that my cervix was high--not effaced, not dilated...nothing was happening.

So I kept living life. Finn and I went to the zoo on Monday, and to the aquarium with Gma and Addy on Tuesday July 2nd. We came home, Finn took a nap, and I cleaned the entire house. I felt great.  Randy was freaking out that I kept driving to the city, but I just “knew” it would still be a while.  We were supposed to have a few people over for the parade the next day. However, Crosby had a different plan--he's been surprising me from the beginning.

At 11:45 pm on July 2 I woke up, went to the bathroom, and laid back down. Within a few minutes, a giant gush of water happened. Like the one you see in the movies. I was dripping and leaking all over the place. It was weird...and kind of gross. I got up, started hyperventilating because "it's too early" and told randy, and then called Louise and Bernie. They both assured me that since I wasn't having contractions, I could lie back down and try to sleep. I got into the shower, while Randy ran around packing a bag, and calling my parents. I couldn't stop shaking from nervousness and serious adrenaline. Randy called my parents, and we all decided that since we didn't know what time labor would start, we would bring him over there now, I think everyone assumed that labor would begin now, and I’d have this baby the next day. 

It was super emotional for me to watch Finn leave. He was crying, and he screamed "mama" as Randy put him into the car. All I could think was "that's the last time I'll see my baby as an only child." I cried and cried when he left.  And then the house was eerily quiet—Finn was gone, Ella was gone and Randy was gone.  I finished my shower, and tried to calm down. 

When Randy came back, we finished any last minute cleaning, and laid down to try to sleep. We put in Knocked Up, and got a bit of sleep. I had some contractions, but nothing hard, and nothing regular. When we woke up in the morning, we went on a short walk (in which I had to tie a sweatshirt around my waist 1996 style because there was so much fluid coming out of me). Randy and I were scared, but also so excited and so hopeful that because the labor had started differently it would go differently than Finn's birth—we were so hopeful, so positive. 

Finally we decided it was time to go to the hospital. We went in, and stopped at Bernie's office. She checked me and had some bad news. My cervix wasn't ready for labor. It was high and closed. She even said it wasn't soft. I was so sad. Bernie said that she went back and forth about starting pitocin or doing something else. We decided that the best route to go was to insert a drug called cervidil. It's a progesterone and its job is to soften the cervix to get it ready for labor. The trick is that it has to be inserted for 12 hours. And during those 12 hours, you are just supposed to be resting and waiting.

So we walked over to the hospital to be admitted and start the cervidil (I have no idea if I’m spelling that right…btw).  The inserted my IV and I almost passed out.  Yeah, you heard that correctly.  The woman who went through over 72 hours of “labor” with Finn, passed out when they pricked her with a needle.  Then one of the nurses told me I needed to have thicker skin…and I seriously wanted to deck her in the face.  I am NOT a wuss.  I have never passed out from needles, or even had an issue with needles before.  However, when my heart rate dropped, so did the baby’s and it was scary. 

After that nonsense, they took some blood, and then they inserted the cervidil.  And now…we just had to wait for something to happen.  Randy and I talked, and we watched Harry Potter.  Randy’s mom and sisters came for lunch, and we chatted with them.  Nothing was happening. 

Then, close to 3:00, I started to feel contractions…and they sucked.  And I wasn’t allowed to get up.  And it was TERRIBLE.  They were getting stronger and stronger.  My nurse (I think it was still Michele at this point) kept telling me they weren’t contractions, they were “abdominal discomfort” and I was FREAKING OUT to Randy.  I kept saying “this isn’t even labor, this is just discomfort—I can’t do this for 5 more hours and then just start labor.”  Randy felt awful for me.  However, when your water breaks they can only check you 6 times total, so they weren’t able to tell me where I was, or if anything was happening. 

At 9:45 p.m. they finally removed the cervidil.  I was exhausted, still contracting, and feeling terrible.  They had given me a dose of Staydol (sp?) at one point so I could try to rest through the “abdominal discomfort” that wasn’t reading as contractions.  It made things a bit better, for about an hour…and it helped a lot since I wasn’t able to do anything else to cope with labor pains (walking, tub, etc.). 

I was able to start walking and doing different positions at this point.  They wanted me to wait for around an hour to see if my contractions would keep going before they gave me Pitocin.  Well, the contractions definitely kept going…it was at this point where they actually gave in to the fact that they were contractions and not just abdominal pains.  Finally, around 11 pm they checked me.  I was at 6-7 cm, which was great.  However, I was really discouraged… I felt like they had promised me a shorter, easier birth, and I was just not feeling it.  Louise *our doula if you didn’t know that tried to pep me up by telling me that I had been right the entire time—I WAS contracting, the nurses were wrong.  I was mad…mad I had been in bed contracting for several hours and not been able to get up, and I was feeling oh so negative. 

At that point we got up and walked the halls, changed positions several times and tried to get things moving.  I was in terrible pain, and feeling discouraged and guilty the entire time.  I was really mean to Randy at this point, he kept trying to help, but all I wanted was louise to be there for me.  That is it. 

At that point, Bernie came in and checked me again.  She said I was at 8-9 cm, which was great.  However, I had also started bearing down and pushing when I was having contractions.  It was at this point I cried epidural.  I was just so done.  It was probably around 1 am.  I was sad, mad, and just in so much pain.  Randy and Louise talked and everyone could tell I was serious, and they were also concerned that I kept pushing.  Bernie said my cervix was “puffy” from pushing, which is why I think she agreed to do the epidural at that point. 

I was terrified, I was disappointed in myself for asking for the epidural, I was relieved that the pain would stop soon, and I was still just discouraged about the entire situation.  I thought it would be easier, that I would be better prepared, and it just kept getting worse.

The epidural was bad, mostly because I was in the transition stage of labor and someone was telling me to relax and not move.  After the epidural, I calmed down.   I felt so much better, and I felt clear for the first time all day.  With that clarity, the guilt about getting the epidural set in too.  However, I didn’t have a lot of time to feel guilty, because within an hour I was pushing.  I asked them to turn the epidural down, and I was able to change positions several times during pushing.  The nurse (Melissa), Bernie and Louise all assured me that I was pushing correctly.  However, the baby wasn’t moving down…and his heart rate was decelerating. 

Every time I looked at Randy he was pacing and talking under his breath.  I don’t know if he was praying, or just telling himself it would be okay.  Finally, Bernie uttered the phrase “I think it’s going to be a c-section” every time I pushed, the baby’s heart rate would decelerate, and it would take him a little while to recover, it was terrifying. 

After Bernie said c-section, we tried 3-4 more positions to try to get the baby to move down, but nothing worked.  The good news was that the fact that I got the epidural made it easier and calmer to go straight into the c-section, the bad news is that I immediately convinced myself that it was my fault that I was getting a c-section, for not being strong enough to do it without the epidural. 

They wheeled me straight into the surgical room, and at that point things went fast.  Everything from my chest down was numb, and it was weird.  Randy wasn’t with me, but Louise and Bernie were, and that made it better.  I was just sad, and scared and relieved all at the same time. 

The c-section is fuzzy to me.  I’ve remember that I didn’t feel anything.  I remember holding Louise’s hand, then Randy’s.  Then I remember hearing Crosby cry.  We never heard that with Finn.  Finn never cried.  When I heard it, I lost it and started crying.  I asked “Is he okay?”  “how does he look?” and various other questions.  Randy cut the cord—I was so proud of him. 

Then, the moment.  The moment that I have been waiting for…they placed him on me.  They let me hold him, and while it was weird because my hands were kind of numb (ish), but I got to do it.  I got to be skin to skin with that adorable little angel immediately after he was born.  I was so happy.  I was so happy that I finally got that moment.  It was wonderful.  I don’t even remember if Randy got to hold him or not. 

They took him away, and cleaned him up and got his stats.  He entered the world at 5:09 a.m. on July 4^th, 2013.  He was 8 lbs 3 oz and 19.75, and he was perfectly perfect.  He cried when he came out, but was calm during all his tests, and he was fabulous. 

They then finished stitching me up, and wheeled me into recovery, where I got to try to breastfeed (he was AWESOME at this immediately), and hold him, and love him.  I felt weird, and happy, and loopy, and strange all at the same time, but overwhelmingly in love. 

It was a happy day, and it was a sad day too.  However, it was the day that we met our Crosby Emerson Hoyle, so it was wonderful. 

Recovery has been really difficult, but also better than anticipated in other ways.  The worst part of the entire experience was the spinal headaches accompanied by the blood patch that occurred four days after his birth.  But that’s a story for another day.

Welcome to the world Crosby, we love you so much, you are such a wonderful little baby, and you are exactly what this family wanted and needed.