Cade's Birth Story

Tomorrow my second-born turns five years old.  Five! We often joke that Cade has to do everything in his own way, at his own pace.  That started with his birth.  I never posted the story of his birth on this blog.  I did write it in my journal, but not here.  I think partly because it was frightening and things didn't go as planned, and it took me several months to take it all in.  Also, the first 3 months of Cade's life were ROUGH.  I had the hardest time with him as a newborn.  I felt like I would never sleep again. He would never take a pacifier, so I fulfilled that sucking need 24/7.  I swear all I did was nurse him, bounce him on the exercise ball, and feel guilty for not giving Boston enough attention!

Luckily, all of that stress is just a distant memory, and I lived to tell about it! Cade is still the most attached to me out of all the boys.  He just loves to be home, he's very affectionate, and very sensitive.  One of the things I love most about Cade is that he is in tune with others' feelings.  He is very compassionate.  If anyone is sick, hurt, or sad, Cade is praying for them, talking about them, drawing pictures for them.  I love that sweet boy of mine!

Since I have posted my other birth stories on this blog, I wanted to share parts of Cade's as well.  (In my extreme sleep deprived state, I wrote one mile-long paragraph detailing the events and emotions surrounding Cade's delivery, stream-of-consciousness style. I tried to edit and condense a little here, but wanted to preserve most of what I wrote at that time.)

Cade had been breech for several weeks so Dr. Kolar wanted to attempt an external version (turning him to a head down position) on Friday, the 17th when I would have been 38 weeks. I had my reservations about the version but I trusted Dr. Kolar and knew it would be better to try it than to go straight for the c-section. Now looking back, I really always felt like it wasn't going to work. Even though Dr. Kolar kept saying she thought she'd easily be able to turn him, I think I always felt like if it was not going to happen. 

Thursday the 16th I noticed I was contracting more than usual. I was in early labor all day long, and decided to head to the hospital that evening to be safe.

When we got there my doctor was sitting at the nurse's station and when she saw me, decided right away to keep me and do the version that night. They gave me a shot of Terbutaline to stop my contractions (which was nice because they were getting really painful and closer together) and did a little trial run on the version. His heart rate dropped a tiny bit but she said it was high because of the Terbutaline so it might have just been coming back down to normal. She decided to give me more Terbutaline and get me an epidural. She also called in her partner to assist.

Getting the epidural was a little rough. I don't remember my epidural with Boston being painful at all, but this definitely was. It was just a difficult placement because of my scoliosis and because I was on my side but we got it done eventually. She dosed me for a c-section, which was strange. Once it kicked in I could not move my legs at all. With Boston's I couldn't feel but I could still move really well. This time I couldn't move the slightest bit.

Well when the other doctor arrived they tried the version. It wasn't painful at all because of the epidural, it was just scary. They turned him about half way and then they just kept saying they couldn't figure out why he wouldn't turn anymore. After trying for a few more minutes, they put the fetal heart monitor back on and checked his heart rate.

All I remember is the nurse saying "It's in the 60s" and then Dr. Kolar said "ok, let's go" and then they started pulling monitors off, throwing the side rails up, pulling everything out of the wall and pushing me out the door. The nurse said "Ashley, turn on your side right now" and man, I FLEW onto my side. I started crying and I barely caught eye contact with Jamie as they were rushing me out the door. I think Jamie said something like "its going to be ok" but I'm sure he was scared too. I literally have never felt so terrified in my life. I just kept thinking, what if I have a still born, this is all my fault for consenting to the version, I should have just elected for the c-section, what if I killed my baby, Heavenly Father please just let him be ok. I was so panicked. The nurse and the doctors who were walking by my bed kept trying to tell me it was going to be fine. At one point I think Dr. Kolar said, "we're probably going to get to the OR and his heart rate will be fine." I remember thinking PROBABLY?! What if it's not??

As soon as we got to the OR, which was just right down the hall from my room, they said "ok you need to move to the table." I was so numb I could barely move but man, I was trying so hard to scoot as fast as I could. Once I got onto the OR table a nurse put the fetal heart monitor on and his heart rate was back up to normal-140's. She took my hand and made me make eye contact with her (because I was still really panicking) and she kept saying, "Ashley, listen to your baby, just listen, he is fine" That was the best sound I could have heard. I just focused on his heart beat. I immediately felt better.

They put oxygen on me and started cleaning my belly and getting everything ready for the c-section. They started so fast I remember being scared that I wasn't numb enough. There were 2 anesthesiologists there and they were awesome-calming my fears and telling me what to expect. Then I remember them saying that they had already started the surgery and I didn't even know!

It didn't take long at all before one of the docs said to take a deep breath because they were about to push hard to pull him out. Jamie stood up and looked over the drape and watched them pull Cade out. He said there was 1 leg, then 2, then an arm. He was wiggling all over the place. Then they finally got his head out. I heard Dr. Kolar say that he had a lot of vernix on him. He started crying right away and so did I. That is when I felt the ultimate relief. I remember Jamie saying that he had a bumb-chin and that he looked just like Boston. Dr. Kolar brought him around the drape so I could see him but it was only for a second. They started cleaning him up and I didn't see him for a while after that.

Shortly after they started stitching me up I started feeling some cramping. It wasn't really painful but it was scary because I thought the anesthesia was wearing off. I told the anesthesiologist and he gave me some medication, Fentanyl I think. After that the next few hours are a total blur. I was really groggy. I remember bits and pieces here and there but I could barely keep my eyes open. I remember asking Jamie how much he weighed-Jamie said I actually asked him several times! Really the next thing I remember clearly was waking up back in my L&D room. It took forever (felt like it to me) to wake up. I just hated that sleepy feeling. They let me hold Cade, but I could barely keep my eyes open and I felt so groggy. Then I realized it was almost midnight. As I started to wake up more and more I felt really sad when I realized that 2 hours had passed since he was born that I had missed out on. I didn't know what was going on. I wasn't expecting to be so out of it. I never want Fentanyl again if I can help it! But after I woke up I was just so grateful that everything was over and he was born safe and sound.



After I was more alert they transferred me to post-partum and the rest of the stay was wonderfully uneventful. The morning after my surgery I had a great nurse who made me get up out of bed (that was quite an event) and helped me get all settled. I took a shower that day, walked the halls several times and felt great.

The best was when Mom brought Boston to visit. I will never forget the look on his face.  He was so excited and so sweet. I was sitting in the chair holding Cade, and Boston came up to us with wide eyes and a huge grin and said "Hi Baby!" and gave Cade the rattle that Jamie had helped him pick out. It was precious seeing him hold Cade in his pudgy little arms and stare at him with pure excitement. I missed Boston so much while I was in the hospital.

Boston has been great ever since Cade was born (now over a week ago). He is not the least bit jealous. He loves Cade; loves watching me feed him, change his diapers; he wants to hold him all the time. He is learning *slowly* to be gentle. He knows mommy has an owie on her tummy so I can't pick him up, which I miss. Having Cade brings back all the memories and emotions from when Boston was this little. They look so similar. I have called Cade Boston a few times and Jamie has had to correct me! It just doesn't seem like that long ago when Boston was my newborn. Now he is a beautiful, smart, hyper, wonderful toddler.

I am just so blessed to have both of them in my life, I can't even put it into words. The fact that Heavenly Father would trust me with these 2 perfect spirits is just overwhelming. I know they were meant to be with Jamie and me. I have no doubt about that. I am so grateful that we will be an eternal family. I can't imagine not being with Jamie, Boston, or Cade (and any others that we are blessed with) forever.

Avery's Birth Story

Right now my house is quiet except for the hum of the dishwasher.  Boston is at school; everyone else is napping.  Perhaps I should be napping, too, but my heart wants to write the story of how Avery Jolene came into this world.

First, her name.  Jamie has liked the name Avery for as long as I can remember.  When we first started talking about having kids, before we were even married, he told me he wanted to name a daughter Avery.  It quickly became our "go-to" girl's name; each one of the boys was going to be Avery if he was a she.

All of our children's middle names are family names.  Jolene was Jamie's mom.  I only knew her for a year and a half before she died, during which time we lived in Utah so I didn't get to know her well.  But I do know Jolene endured with grace and faith the trials that she was given in this life.  She taught her children to love the Lord and trust in His plan.  She valued her role as a wife and mother.  She was a great example to those who knew her, and I hope Avery gets some of those wonderful qualities from her grandmother.

I suppose it's fitting that Avery's birth was so different from all of her brothers.  A special delivery for a special little girl...

After a few nights of contractions that started out promising, then fizzled out by sunrise, I was starting to get anxious about whether or not I was going to deliver early.  The boys were all born between 37 and 38 weeks, and each one a few days earlier than the last, so I anticipated a delivery over the first weekend in October.  I know every baby is different, but I'm a planner...it's what I do.  So when the weekend came and went--and with it, my mom, to California--I was anxious.  I worried about what we would do with the boys when the time came, how we would manage Boston getting to/from school, how everyone would handle me being gone, etc.  Tuesday, I gave myself a little pep-talk and decided that I needed to let go of my worries and trust that everything would work out fine.  She would come when she was ready, and I would trust in my body's timing.  The boys would be fine whenever it happened; we are surrounded with family and friends who were ready and waiting to help us.  I felt at peace with everything.  Even if she didn't come until her due date, or later, I tried to accept that everything would be just fine.

Still, when I woke up in the early hours of Wednesday morning having contractions, I basically threw all of that contentment out the window and prayed this was really it=) I was awake from 2 am on, contracting here and there.  Nothing was very regular or terribly painful, but I was too uncomfortable to sleep.  With my other labors, as soon as contractions started, my water broke and we headed to the hospital.  So I was a little surprised when morning came and I was not progressing past this stage.  I was frustrated that I hadn't gotten any sleep and now had to face another day tired and uncomfortable.  I was still contracting off and on, so Jamie stayed home for a while to see what would happen.  We got Boston off to school, went out to breakfast and picked up some groceries, hoping the activity would speed up the labor, but nothing happened.  I told Jamie to just go to work and I'd call him if anything happened.

I spent most of Wednesday the same way--having uncomfortable contractions but not feeling like I was really in labor.  I went to the mall for lunch with a friend, cleaned the house, tried to take a nap, and took care of my little boys, who were blissfully unaware anything was going on!  As the day went by, I became more and more mentally and physically exhausted.  I just wanted the contractions to either stop so I could get a good night's sleep or really pick up so I could go to the hospital and get the show on the road!

Around dinner time and Jamie getting home, I started having stronger contractions.  They still weren't very regular but they were more painful (too painful to talk through).  For a while I didn't know when we should go to the hospital, since my water wasn't broken and I was afraid I'd get sent home.  I finally decided I didn't want to wait anymore so we called Nelwyn to come over and be with the boys.  We put Hudson to bed and got things ready to go.  Boston and Cade were excited; Boston ran to get a pencil and paper and drew me a picture of himself to take to the hospital so I wouldn't forget what he looked like.

We got to the hospital a little after 9pm.  I had a very nice, but very new nurse.  She was very slow and I could just tell she was inexperienced.  That was fine, though.  I have been that brand new nurse; you have to start somewhere.  Nothing she did was really wrong, just slow and not confident=) By 10pm she had checked me and said I was about 2.5-3 cm dilated (I had been 2 cm for a week and a half, though, so this was surprising/disappointing), and that they'd monitor me for 2 hours to see if I made any progress, then call my doctor and make the decision whether or not to keep me.

So I geared up for a few more hours of wait and see.

We watched tv and visited, joking in between contractions about what we'd do if this baby was a boy.  I paced around the room, since lying in the bed was too uncomfortable and seemed to slow my contractions down.  I was still nervous I'd get sent home, and I felt like I was in too much pain to labor at home.  The nurse came in and out of the room, asking me questions she'd forgotten to ask before.  I was getting to the point where the contractions were so painful and close together, I had to stop walking and lean on something. Jamie was helpful, rubbing my back to help with the pain. I kept an eye on the clock, waiting for midnight when I'd have an answer and hopefully a game plan.

When the nurse came in around 11:30 to check the baby's heartbeat again, I could hardly sit still in the bed for her to put the monitor on.  I said something like, "I can barely handle these contractions..." so after finding the baby's heartbeat again, she said she'd check me.

"You're about 3-4 cm now," she announced.  I was ticked.  I couldn't believe that all these hours of contractions were barely doing anything.  All I wanted was to get my epidural so I could have an end to the pain and get some rest!

She left the room, but returned a minute later with another nurse, Gretchen, who I will hereafter refer to as "my angel."  Gretchen was a seasoned veteran, clearly.  She was friendly, confident, knowledgeable, and, as I would soon find out, a dang good cheerleader--everything I needed in a nurse at that point.  Gretchen wanted to check me, and as soon as she did, everything went into hyperdrive.

Turns out I was not 3-4 cm as the first nurse had said, but 8.

In between the gripping pain of the contractions, I was aware that there was a flurry of activity in the room all of a sudden.  Gretchen took charge big time, thankfully.  Someone started an IV and drew blood while others called for the anesthesiologist for my epidural, called my doctor, and started getting trays of supplies and instruments out.

I have to say this: during all this time, Jamie was right by my side, holding my hand, being my rock.  He helped me through the contractions (which were basically back to back with no break) by reassuring me and rubbing my arms (that gave me something to focus on besides the pain).  Also, Gretchen was a master multi-tasker.  As she zipped around the room getting things done, she'd stop to coach me through each contraction, assuring me I was doing a good job.

After just a few minutes I started shivering.  I wasn't cold, but I couldn't stop shaking.  I knew what that meant: I was transitioning--completely dilated, ready to deliver.

Gretchen checked me again and then practically ran out of the room,  saying she was going to go check and see where the doctor was (I hoped she meant the anesthesiologist) but when she came back, she was accompanied by two newborn nursery nurses and the on-call OB.  Then she said the words confirming my biggest fear: "There's not going to be time for an epidural; you're having this baby right now."

I freaked big time.  I panicked, saying I couldn't do it without an epidural.  I just wanted the pain from the contractions to be gone so I could enjoy the experience, and I definitely had no interest in pushing a baby out of me without the epidural! Everyone in the room kept telling me I was doing great and it would be over soon (I wanted to slap them).  Gretchen told me to look at Jamie; she was probably hoping that would help me get a grip! Jamie was so calm through the whole thing...whenever I said I couldn't do it, he assured me I could.  At one point he said, "Erin did it, and Lauren did it; you can do it too."  But I snapped back, "I don't want to be in their club!!" (Sorry Erin and Lauren!)

The OB on call was not my doctor, but I had met her before.  She later told me her partners like to be called when one of their patients is in labor, but there was no time--the nurses were telling her to run to my room!  At that point, I really didn't care who was there. She was quickly getting her gown and everything on, and Gretchen told me it was time to start pushing.  I honestly didn't want to! I didn't have any urge to push and I was so scared of how bad it would hurt.  (I can see now how this whole thing would have been much less frightening if I was more prepared to manage the pain...the fear of the pain was the worst part!)

As I look back, this will clearly be a defining moment in my life.  I knew there was no avoiding what I had to do, even though I didn't want to do it.  I had to go somewhere deep inside myself for strength I didn't even know I had.  I held tight to Jamie's hand; I think he lent me some of his strength in the process.  I knew he knew I could do it.  I finally just put my fears aside and trusted that my body was divinely created to do this, even if I was mentally and emotionally unprepared for it.

I pushed once (admittedly, not very hard because it hurt!) and her head came out.  Then again, and her tiny little body followed.

I held her and I thought, I can't believe we just did that! She was so tiny, and her little face looked very much like all her brothers did at birth.  I have always wanted a daughter.  Of course I love my boys fiercely, but there is something different about a daughter.  I was so grateful she was finally in my arms.

Although the physical discomfort lasted for several more hours (that's the crappy part they don't tell you about having an unmedicated delivery--the delivery is not really the end of the pain!), I felt an immediate sense of emotional relief, in that it was over and I had done something I never thought I could do.  It was something I never wanted to do, never would have chosen to do, but I did it, and now I can honestly say I'm glad that I did.  It was empowering.  I suppose like many things in life, you never know what you can handle until you experience it for yourself.

It was a strong bonding experience for Jamie and me.  It gave me a greater respect for the human body and what God created us to do.  It made me realize maybe I am stronger than I give myself credit for.  And for all of that, I am so grateful.  But the verdict is still out on whether or not I'd do it again!

Mostly, I am so grateful for my little Avery.  She has a very sweet temperament, only crying when she is hungry or wants to be swaddled up to go to sleep.  She doesn't seem to mind being passed around between her brothers, who are all smitten with her.  Boston and Cade are very gentle and loving; they baby talk to her and are always telling me how tiny and soft she is.  Hudson loves to give her hugs and kisses too, although his approach is a little less tender and a little more like an open-mouth tackle.

It is such a blessing to have Avery in our family.  Although it brings a little more stress, adjusting to four kids--with two of them being babies--I treasure the moments I can sit and feed her or just stare at her, memorizing her beautiful features.  Having another baby is a privilege I do not take for granted.

There, Avery...I told your story.

Hudson's Birth Story

At my 36 week check, I was dilated to 2 cm, 50% effaced, and the doc said baby's head was super low. I was so happy; delivering before the due date looked very likely. Dr. Kolar told me to take it easy over the weekend and at least try to make it to 37 weeks, although the baby was already about 6 lbs at that point, according to the ultrasound.

I didn't really take it easy--in fact I took the boys plus a friend to the water park the next day!--and went back to the doctor the next week. 37 week check: 2cm, 50% effaced, baby's head super low...no change at all. I was pretty disappointed; I was so ready to have this baby! I was afraid if there was no change in a week, I could go 3 more weeks like this! The boys and I went over to Mom and Dad's house and spent the day swimming and playing over there. After a nap we came home. I was just feeling lazy and bummed about my appointment not going how I wanted, so we popped in a movie and lounged until Jamie came home from work.

We went out to eat because 1.) lazy + bummed=not in a mood to cook and 2.) let's be honest, I wasn't cooking much at that point anyway. Throughout dinner I had a couple of contractions that were painful enough to make me notice them. We came home and got the boys in bed while the contractions continued. I tried not to get too worked up about it, but I started to think this could be it. I texted Mom and put her on alert and then texted Erin, too. After taking a bath, the contractions were still there but very irregular and they seemed to be slowing down and weren't as painful. By midnight I was only having them every 15-20 minutes so I went to bed thinking they were just going to stop.

I had barely fallen asleep, it was about 12:10 when...surprise! My water broke. It wasn't a huge gush, but it was obvious what it was so we jumped out of bed and started getting things together. I called Mom to come over to stay with the boys and we packed the rest of our things. Before this I didn't want to jinx myself by packing a hospital bag, but I did make a list of things that I didn't want to forget in case I ended up packing in a hurry in just such a situation as this! (Side note: My water also broke when I went into labor with Boston and I was running around in the middle of the night packing also; you'd think I'd learn my lesson!)

As we packed and waited for Mom, I was still only having contractions every 15 minutes or so. I felt like Jamie was rushing around and I told him to calm down. He reminded me it would take 30 minutes to get to the hospital and things could change fast so we should just go. He knew what he was talking about! Mom got to the house, we snapped one last "before" picture and headed out the door. (iphone picture in harsh lighting, sorry about the quality!)

We got to the hospital a little before 2am and did all the tedious hospital admission stuff. (As a nurse, I hate admissions, too!) I answered all the lovely questions about my last flu shot and how often I take my prenatal vitamins...all the while thinking please hurry and just get the dang epidural!

By 3ish I was all hooked up and settled in and having "medium sized contractions" that were still not very regular, according to the nurse. But they didn't feel "medium sized" to me; they hurt! The nurse also checked me and I was 3cm dilated. Luckily my doctor said I could have the epidural at any time. By 3:30 I was in a much better labor pattern with regular, strong contractions. And SO much pain, I thought I'd never survive it. I am a serious wimp when it comes to pain. I fully admit it. I am not one of those people who would ever ever want to have an unmedicated delivery. In fact, not being able to get an epidural or having an ineffective epidural were a few of my many fears during this pregnancy! (Along with several other more serious fears, like uterine rupture due to my previous C-section, having to have an emergency C-section, getting a blood clot that traveled to my lungs, hemorrhaging...sometimes being a nurse and knowing what can go wrong is a bad thing!)

Anyway, after what seemed like an eternity of squeezing the side-rails of the bed, Jamie rubbing my back and legs, and me telling Jamie "I don't want to do this anymore!" (I told you I'm a wimp, and did I mention dramatic?) the anesthesiologist finally came and I got my epidural at 4:15. I love modern medicine!! I immediately felt so much better. Jamie will tell you I got really giddy and chatty at this point. He says he was exhausted and wanted to sleep for a while, but I wouldn't stop talking. I don't know about all that...I just remember being so relieved to be out of pain and I could finally look forward to the actual birth!

I thought once I got my epidural we'd be able to sleep until later in the morning before anything happened. But when the nurse checked me again at 5am, I was dilated to 6 cm and she called in my doctor. Jamie snoozed on the couch (lucky duck) and I tried to rest, but someone came in to the room about every 10 minutes for something or other. My doctor got there a little before 6am and checked me again. I was honestly shocked when she said I was completely dilated and the baby was having decelerations with each contraction (meaning his heartbeat would slow down with each contraction;it's a sign of the baby's head getting compressed). She said since the baby wasn't really tolerating the contractions too well, he needed to be delivered sooner than later.

Everything went into high gear as several nurses helped get everything ready. He actually stopped having the drops in his heartbeat, which made everyone in the room more comfortable. Before I knew it, it was time to push. Only 10 minutes and 3 contractions later, he came right out! It surprised me how fast he came out!

I think my doctor forgot that we didn't know the sex of the baby because she didn't say what it was right away. I saw right away that it was a boy, and Jamie and I both said at the same time, "it's a boy!"

It's hard to really explain how I felt when I saw it was a boy. SO many people during my pregnancy said, "you must be hoping for a girl." I definitely went through periods, especially towards the end, where I would think about all those fun things about having a girl--the bows, the nail painting, the tea parties. I would have loved to have a daughter, for sure. But I really never felt strongly that it was a girl, so I didn't have my heart set on it. My only fear when I saw it was a boy was that Jamie would be disappointed. He really thought it was a girl. We were going to name her after Jamie's mom. I knew he was surprised, but not disappointed. He loves his boys and is such a good Daddy to boys.

So no, I wasn't disappointed to have another boy. Quite the opposite, I was excited and instantly in love. It's interesting to me that immediate bond that takes place. When I had Boston, I didn't feel a strong bond right away. It felt a little surreal for a day or two, almost like I was in shock. I was happy of course and I loved everything about him, but it took a little while it to sink in that that was really my baby and I was really a mom. But when I delivered Cade and Hudson, I felt a fierce attachment and love for them right away. It was like my mama's heart was already ready to take hold of the new little life and never let go.

When I saw Hudson I knew immediately that we were meant to have another son, and his little soul specifically was supposed to come to our family at this time. I feel blessed beyond belief and humbled that Heavenly Father would trust me with another one of His sons. I can only hope and pray that I do a good job of raising them to be righteous young men.

Being a mom to boys is all I know, and I love it. Plus it's kind of special to be the only girl!

So here are some more pictures from Hudson's birthday:

6:26am, Welcome to the world! He had a lot of vernix (the cheesey white stuff on his skin) since he was 2 and 1/2 weeks early. That covering coats them throughout the pregnancy but goes away closer to full-term. He was perfect in every way, though. His Apgar scores were 9/9.

Cleaned up and snug as a bug
After an hour or so they moved me to post-partum. Mom brought the boys up to see us after breakfast. Cade was curious about my hospital gown and all the buttons on the bed.
Hudson was actually in the nursery getting checked out when the boys got there. They were anxious to see him, so Jamie took them to go see if they could peek at him through the window.
Finally they brought Hudson back to the room so they could get a good look at him!




Then they had their turns holding him. They were both so excited and gentle!

Jamie made these shirts (literally while I was in labor the night before) to announce that it was a boy! We had pink shirts ready to go, too. Although Boston has said during the whole pregnancy that he wanted a sister, ever since we told him we'd wear pink shirts if it was a girl he decided he wanted a boy=) He was happy he didn't have to wear a pink shirt!
I wondered what he'd think about having another brother, since he's been saying for so long that he wanted a sister...well, he has told me everyday, "I'm so glad we had a boy, Mom. I just love Hudson." He loves to hold him, kiss him, rub his head, and hold his hands. I'd say he's not the least bit disappointed, either!


Manny finally got her turn to hold her new grandson. We were so grateful to have her help while we were in the hospital!
Check out Cade's crazy eyes...one of my favorite pictures of the day!



The boys brought pictures they had colored. Mom told Boston that red is a good color for babies, so he kept wanting to hold it up in front of Hudson's face=)

The next day, going home! We were both discharged the next day. It was my shortest hospital stay, but we were ready to come home. Ready to start our lives as a family of five!

To Boston

(If you are long-suffering enough to read this whole thing, you deserve an award.)

Four years ago today I became a mother. My whole world changed in wonderful ways. Since Boston's birth occured in my pre-blog days, I want to write some thoughts about my crazy, funny, inquisitive, sensitive, adventurous, silly Boston.

Let's back up to 4 years + 9 months ago...

The day I found out I was preggo with Boston, I got up early to go to school. I had bought a pregnancy test the night before but planned to take it in the morning. I woke up early (which is rare for me) because I was so excited. Since I couldn't go back to sleep, I got up and peed on the stick. Low and behold, positive!!

Since we had first decided to have a baby, I had been thinking about how I would tell Jamie. I had all kinds of cute, fun, creative ideas to share the good news. But the second I saw that little plus sign, I was too excited to think about any of that, so I just went and woke Jamie up to tell him.

Warning: understatement of a lifetime coming up: Jamie is not a morning person. So I shouldn't have been surprised that he just gave me a little smile and a grunt and went back to sleep. We had been married almost 2 years at this point, so I wasn't offended or anything. I just went about getting ready for the day like any other morning.

Except it wasn't like any other morning. I was pregnant, and you couldn't wipe the smile off my face. I have always wanted to be a mother. Since I was little I always knew more than anything else I wanted to be a mother. And it wasn't that I didn't want to do anything else, as in "I just want to be a mom." Along the way I knew I wanted to go to college; somewhere along the way I decided I wanted to be a nurse. But I knew that being a mother would be my greatest achievement. It's part of my divine nature as a woman. I was created to do this.

I was blessed with a great pregnancy. I had my days of being nauseated, but I quickly learned to sleep with a package of peanut butter crakers in my bed. Seriously, I slept with a package of crackers in my bed. I was lucky to never throw up, but I cannot explain how tired I was. Ohmygoodness was I tired. In fact, before we told our families about the pregnancy, Erin actually called home and told my mom she thought I was getting depressed cause I was in bed so much! That lasted through the first couple of months, but after that I loved every minute of being pregnant. I felt cute (although looking back I had such a fat face at the end!), wore my regular clothes through much of the pregnancy, and grew so used to all the kicking and squirming that I really missed it after he was born.

Early on we got involved in a research study at Utah Valley Regional Medical Center. One of the perks (and the reason I did it) was frequent ultra sounds. Because that hospital has a great Neonatology department, they have super-high-tech ultrasound machines. When we went in for an ultrasound at 12 weeks, we were able to find out the gender. Of course it was early, but the tech said he was about 80% sure it was a boy. I'm not ashamed to say that my immediate gut reaction was a hint of disappointment, followed by overwhelming excitement. See, I always considered myself more of a "girl mom." I am not athletic, outdoorsy, adventurous...any of the things I thought were required to be a good mom to boys. Plus have you seen the baby clothes section of any stores lately? It's about 80% girl clothes, 20% boys. But I got over that and quickly bonded with the little life inside of me.

I started out going to an OBGYN practice, but I was not thrilled with them. I happened to be in my L&D rotation in nursing school and had to shadow a Certified Nurse Midwife for one of our clinical assignments. I loved the time they took with each patient and their philosophy that a woman should have the birth experience she wants, be it medicated or au-natural. I absolutely wanted an epidural for my delivery, and they were great with that.

My due date was August 4th. At my 38 week appointment, I was 4cm dilated and 90% effaced. I remember thinking, "Sweet I'm halfway there and I haven't felt a thing!" I knew I probably wouldn't make it to August 4th, but I still thought since I wasn't in pain or anything, it would still be a while. Wrong!

The next morning, July 22nd, I woke up at 3am with contractions. Having a full bladder always gave me contractions so I went to the bathroom and got back in bed. But I laid there for a few minutes and realized they weren't stopping. I started watching the clock and they were about 5 minutes apart. By 4am I couldn't lay down anymore cause I was so uncomfortable, so I got in the shower. The hot water felt good but I was getting dizzy so I got out. I paced around for a while as they went from bad cramps to ok this hurts bad and I don't want to feel this anymore so let's do something about it. I called the midwife and she asked me what my plan was, whether I wanted medications or not. I said something like, "yes I want an epidural," when really I was thinking, can you have the anesthesiologist waiting at the door with the needle please?

We got to the hospital about 5am, and the midwife met us there. I had to wait a while for an epidural (anesthesiologist was in surgery) but once I did I was a happy camper. It was an ideal labor and delivery...sleep for a while, wake up, push through a couple contractions, and done!

And just like that, we were parents. At 10:58 it was just me and Jamie plus this idea of a person that was inside me. At 10:59 he was in our arms, and we were a family of 3. It was a little surreal. Everything I ever wanted, and not at all what I imagined all at the same time. I was sure I would cry when I saw him, but I didn't. And I remember thinking, I should be crying right now, I just had a baby! (I used to cry watching A Baby Story on TLC.) But when I first saw him it was totally...strange. I don't know how else to say it. He looked nothing like I pictured. He had a huge bum chin and looked nothing like me. I guess I always thought he'd look like me. I knew he had just come out of me, and I knew he had been a part of me for 38 weeks, and yet it was like I didn't know him. Not knowing what to expect, I guess I assumed that I would feel this instant bond. But for me, it took time. A few days really. Of course I loved him from the beginning, but the bond and the you really are mine forever took a little while.

That little person, that little man who changed my life in ways I couldn't even anticipate is four today. Independent and curious and kind-hearted and creative and genuine and resourceful and loving and four years old. He teaches me every day about being Christ-like. He is quick to forgive and patient with me as I make mistakes every day as a mother. He loves to make up stories and songs and find out how to spell words. He is learning the art of negotiating when it comes to getting a toy from Cade. He loves chicken nuggets, fruit, cheese, rolls, and sweets of course.

Dear Boston,
I love you more than you know right now. You'll understand someday when you have your first child and realize what it's like to have your heart outside your body. You have taught me to be more patient, observant, and appreciate the simple joys in life, like playing hide-and-seek in the mornings and snuggling up together at bedtime. You make me proud and happy and worn out all at the same time. I'll always love you, you'll always be my baby, no matter how big you get. I'm glad you chose me and I chose you. I love you forever.

Love,
Mom

He's Here!

We went to the hospital last night because Ashley had been contracting all day. She was originally scheduled to have the external version today the 17th at 9:30. If he wasn't breech then we wouldn't have been alarmed at all, but we didn't want him to try and come before they had a chance to attempt to turn him. We got to the hospital and they hooked her up with some drugs and attempted the version but he wouldn't turn and then his heart beat started to drop so they rushed her in for a c-section. Ashley was a trooper through the madness and about 30-45 min. later Cade Bryant was born. He weighed 6 lbs 8 oz (exactly the same as Boston) and was 19 1/4 in. long (1/4 in. shy of Boston). Mom and Cade are doing great and we are anxious to have Boston meet his "baby bruder".