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To quote my sister, “You are so predictable.” 3 kids all born at gestation 39 weeks, 5 days and each the day before or the day of a full moon. I guess my biological clock must be uber tied to the phases of the moon. I wonder if I could win some sort of prize for consistency there.
For all the interested minds, the following is an account (pg version) of Kieran’s birth story.
The last six weeks of this pregnancy had taken a toll on me mentally. I was more uncomfortable than the previous two pregnancies and I’m sure chasing around after a 3 year old and 18 month old didn’t add to my energy or comfort level. I am a planner and consequently, as my due date drew near, my mind began messing with me. When will he come? Will he be late? Feels like he’s going to be huge. And for the first time, as the New Year passed, I declared myself done with pregnancy. I was just ready to be done. After hearing from my OB that she would let me go as far as 41 weeks 5 days gestation (the 22nd of January), I was making plans to take matters in my own hands and safely encourage labor to come. In fact, Saturday morning dawned beautiful and clear and we took the kids to the Oakland Zoo to spend the day. It was also good for me because I could be on my feet and walking, allowing gravity to do its work. As late as Saturday night I was talking it out with Josh and expressing that I was not mentally prepared for what’s ahead and not prepared for labor, I just wanted it to be over. I had had some mild contractions on Saturday but nothing consistent and since I’d also had contractions the previous days for a couple hours that just went away, I did not think twice about it. I went to bed decently early on Saturday but woke up at 11:45 with an uncomfortable contraction then went back to sleep. That continued for a couple hours off and on. Finally at 2:45 I couldn’t go back to sleep. So, I paced the house a little pondering if this was the real thing or not. You see, I had a note in my doctor file that I tend to deliver quickly and so if I feel anything I should come in. But the last thing I want is to raise the alarm falsely and rouse everybody only to be sent home. So, I tried to talk to Josh but he was not waking up. I texted my sister who happened to be awake with Ellie and solicited her opinion. Josh woke up at that point and he started timing contractions (2 minutes apart). I was confused however because there were other things that happened in my previous labor that had not yet happened, casting doubt about whether this was really happening. Anyway, I was convinced to call Labor and Delivery who said yes, it would be a good idea to come in. We called my parents and raised the baby alarm. I jumped in the shower to rinse off – though Josh would rather I just got dressed and waited by the door. I think he was afraid I’d just stay in the shower and deliver there.
This time I was just ready to be at the hospital, probably because I was in that ‘let’s just get this over with’ mentality. I paced waiting for my parents to arrive and with a grim face got in the car and headed to the hospital. We checked in at the birth center and went to triage to be evaluated. They determined yes, i would be staying, I was at 5cm so even though the other things I thought should happen first, hadn’t happened, they were irrelevant now. The nurse marked admit time at 4:31 am. They got my iv hooked up and I got changed, called my mom because she wanted to be present and help as she could. I had plans to walk around and keep letting gravity do its work but this time I just didn’t feel like it so…I laid down and pretty much stayed there. At some point mom arrived, I met my nurse, Jenny and time was marked by the break in contractions. This time I remember what I was thinking about. I sang old hymns in my head and pictured Claire and Conor’s faces. As things got more intense I started to feel more and more done with the whole process and doubted my capability to see it through (transition). As I talked out the drugs/no drugs thing with Josh, the voice in my head was saying, you are just done, you are done. So the nurse came in an checked again now 8cm. With Claire, I remember being cheered by that declaration. The nurse was upbeat and said, we’ll probably have a baby in an hour. This time it made my grumpy. I need something. So…they gave me a little something in my IV, don’t remember what it was but it was supposed to last about an hour and take the edge off. It totally relaxed me between contractions and even helped dull contractions for like 20 minutes but that was all – still it was enough. After 20 minutes things felt REALLY intense again, and I started to feel like the pushing stage would be coming close. The nurse came in and checked, 9cm. She also warned, my water had not broke so mainly to Josh, beware. Ok…10 minutes later definitely had the pushy sensation. Mom ran to get the nurse, she came in, took a look and gave me the go ahead to push. Poor nurse, somebody should have warned her that I don’t even spend an hour pushing. After the first push she was on the call button demanding extra hands and the doc in the delivery room. Alas for her, this was not to be. Next his head was out and she was wrestling with his shoulders and directing my mom to push all the call buttons on the bed and demand the doctor. He came in after the hard work was done, we’ll leave it there. Meanwhile nurse Jenny is still wrestling with his shoulders and for the first time in all my deliveries, they are directing me to push push more (usually its stop stop stop) but this kids shoulders were giving us a little trouble. Suffice to say for me, I was aware that they were giving trouble because holy cow…that hurt. So, finally his shoulders were out (clavicles in tact praise God!) and the rest of him was out. Baby boy was purple purple but got an apgar socre of 8.
So…as morning dawned that day, I felt my life had come full circle. I was born 33 years ago in that same hospital on that same day. Kieran and I now have a special bond, we share a birthday…the best birthday present I could ever get.
First impressions…Kieran is a man child hulk of a baby. Dusting of darkish hair, no neck and all chub. He is stats are as follows, born 6:46 am on January 8, 2012 weighing in at 9lbs 10oz and 21 1/2 inches long. He seems to be more laid back than this siblings. He is definitely less wiggly than the other two, even as an infant.
Little birthday party for Kieran and I.
Conor enjoying his cupcake!
His name is Kieran Joseph. Kieran means is a gaelic name meaning little dark one and Joseph is after my maternal grandfather Joseph (Zeck) Moriera. Josh gave me a little more license in the name of this baby because he was really camped out on our previous two kids’ names (not that he camped on bad names).
Welcome to our family Kieran Joseph! We are thankful you are here!
Conor and Ellie catching up.
little brotherly love.
Auntie Katie pulled overnight duty with me at the hospital! Thank you!!!
all ready to go home!
windows cleaned – check, stove cleaned – check, carpet vacuumed – check, house dusted – check, fridge cleaned out and cleaned – check, toy bins organized – check, pantry organized – check, last week’s laundry wash, folded and put away – check, bathrooms cleaned- check…I’m nesting, can you tell? Of course, if you ask Josh he will tell you this is an ideal weekly checklist for me the difference is that its actually getting accomplished. I’ve only been in trouble three times in the last week (one for trying to move our bed to vacuum behind it, one for climbing on the stepladder and cleaning the top of the fridge and cabinet above it and one general reprimand for just not resting). I do find the stepladder incident hilarious because later that night when our garage door derailed Josh has me standing in the garage on the kids toy box holding up part of the door as he tries to slide it back into place, I lost my balance and almost fell into the stroller and a pile of tricycle/bicycles. And he was worried about me climbing on a step ladder. HA!
What does it feel like to have made it to 39 weeks?
I am thankful that little man #2 made it through all the major holidays so now he can have a day of his own (or share it with me or my mom and sister – all three of us have January birthdays). I am EVER so thankful for the time Josh had off around the holidays – gave me a big chance to regroup. I feel physically and mentally better than I had in a month or so. Having another set of parent hands was awesome and he really took initiative while I was off so that I would nest rest.
All that to say, yesterday was a tough day. I was unsure about what to do with the kids and not mentally prepared for the day. I was allowing the waiting game to get the best of me and indulging in the post holiday blues. For the past six weeks its been all about holidays and family and gatherings and I hadn’t really visualized life after New Years day nor did I have any plans. So, after some thought and prayer and a pep talk from Josh I got my act together. I will treasure the remaining time I have with my two precious munchkin monsters while they are the only two. I will make plans and be thrilled to break them when I go into labor. I will take the final stretch aches and pains with a grain of salt recognizing that its temporary and in a couple weeks at the longest, they will go away. Thank the Lord for this new perspective. I awoke this morning ready to tackle and have a good day with the kids – oh and nest when they are sleeping.
I will cherish the time with my two precocious/busy/loveable and utter snuggly kiddos…yes its a repeat but I’m trying to make it my mantra…
I’ve been to Labor and delivery triage 2x this week. Fun huh? Isn’t that how you’d want to spent the final days before Christmas. The circumstances which brought me there are not however, what you would be expecting.
On Monday I assisted a friend, who works in Public Affairs at Kaiser, with a promo video for prospective patients in Labor and Delivery. My qualifications had nothing to do with my acting resume but the fact that I’m super pregnant. This video was shot in Walnut Creek, the same place I had both Claire and Conor. It was weird being there and going through the motions of admitting, triage and the delivery room. I was feeling just fine until they asked me to don a hospital gown and get strapped to the fetal monitor. It was just plain weird, all too familiar and too close to home.
On Wednesday I had this weird “episode” where I felt like my blood pressure was sky rocketing (i have no idea if that is what it was but that’s what it felt like) and I saw spots (like leopard spots), the spots lasted for about an hour. Later in the day I mentioned it to Josh and my mom and both of them urged me to let my doctor know. So…under a little duress I sent an email and she responded requesting that I go to Labor and Delivery and have a little work up done to make sure all is good. The downside, between the kids and myself I feel like I’m at the doctor quite enough as it is. The upside? Though I was born at Vallejo Kaiser, I remember nothing about the L&D department and have no idea where it is so I looked at this as an opportunity to figure out where I would need to be going in the near future. So once again i was hooked up to the fetal monitor and I got about 30 minutes of respite reading my book while they evaluated me…relaxing and at this point, I’ll take my relaxation where I can get it. As I departed, the security guard smiled at me, “not today eh?” To which I responded “nope, and just fine with me.” That day is when the real work begins. Stay tuned, we’ve got a few more weeks before this next adventure should play out.
Time marches on as does my pregnancy. I came upon the 30 week mark on yesterday. This pregnancy has received significantly less press than the previous two. Perhaps its because writing about the kids is far more interesting and cathartic for me but more likely it is because despite my growing belly, some days I still like to live in denial – not that I am not looking forward to meeting this little one, not that I am not thankful for this little life but more because I am curious and frightened to juggle life with my three little munchkins. The other day my sister was gushing about being due soon and looking forward to meeting her little girl (She’s due at the end of November) and she said “just think, then it will be your turn.” To which I responded, “hush, we do not speak of such things.”
And yet, speak of such things we must because despite my wish to deny the wonderful craziness that will ensue, ensue it must.
This pregnancy has been quite similar to the previous two in that there is nothing much to report. I am measuring right on target according to the doctor, my health and the health of baby Cleo is great – Thank the Lord. I feel just fine and have a decent amount of energy. Of course I wish I didn’t get restless legs at night and wish I didn’t have to get up so many times to use the ladies room at night but really, I still sleep pretty well.* The caveat being that Conor has decided to cry and howl in the middle of the night and early in the morning. Thank you Conor. There are two big differences with this pregnancy for my physically, the first, my eczema – a condition I’ve had since childhood but has really almost gone away as an adult has completely flared up in this pregnancy. The second, rib pain. Now, I did have rib pain with both the other pregnancies but this time – wow. Its way worse. It started earlier and I rarely experience relief. With the other two kids, if I laid down or even sat down I would feel better and I would always feel fine in the mornings, this time, it doesn’t matter, morning, noon, night, sitting up or laying down there is anything from mild discomfort to significant pain. Unfortunately, ’tis the nature of pregnancy and my remedies are heating pad or tylenol which fortunately offer some relief.
Baby Cleo is distinguishing himself (as he should) from his sister and brother. Claire was a kicker (movement wise), Conor was a wiggler, I’m calling this babe an acrobat. He is constantly moving side to side and seemingly doing flips (I’ve no idea if this is what’s really going on).
We’ve done some reorganizing to the closet (where he will be sleeping) so he’s not sleeping with clothes over his head. I’ve sorted through all Conor’s clothes and my hand me downs from my cousin so little man is doing alright in the apparel department. On my list of things to pick up before his arrival are: his own set of pacifiers in case he likes them, a boppy because Lola has made the current boppy her dog bed and its also sadly flatter than I need it to be, and newborn diapers. I’ve knitted him a little blanket to bring him home from the hospital in (see, I’m not completely in denial or unexcited) and I’m working on a matching hat. Brieanne and I are fantasizing about pictures of our little munchkins snuggling together and taking naps and the endless photo ops.
Claire talks more and more about baby Cleo…she’s going to be quite disappointed/peeved when that’s not what we call him. For the curious, we’ve pretty much decided on a name but like the other two kiddos will unveil it when the little man arrives. If Cleo turns out to be a girl, we might just have to go with Cleo because I couldn’t even consider names until I found out we were having a boy – I was too overwhelmed with picking a short list for boys and girls. Back to Claire, I’m really interested to see how her transition goes this time. She is way into talking about this baby – granted she’s also a bit older. She asked me the other day, “Can Santa bring baby Cleo so we can play with him at Christmas?” “Can I hold baby Cleo?” To which I responded, of course you can hold him, I’ll even teach you to change his diaper. To which she replied, “no thanks Mom, you can change his diaper.” Whenever we’re sitting together she wants to snuggle baby Cleo by putting her head on my stomach. Conor, I think, believes my growing stomach to be a trampoline much the same way Claire did when I was pregnant with him.
I am starting to strategize about how life will work once he arrives. Trips to the park, target, the grocery store, play dates, and walking the dog are met with new scrutiny. Some things I’ve written off, like grocery shopping – they just don’t make the carts big enough for three little kids, a diaper bag and groceries. Target is another one I may have to write off because I am horrendous at maneuvering those giant carts with the seats for the kids followed by the cart. I’ve almost knocked over displays before and I break out in a cold sweat thinking about it. I don’t have a lot of answers and would welcome any tips for walks with the dog because just because we’ve got three kids doesn’t mean Lola should be ignored and unexercised. I’m thinking dog sled.
And so, to be continued. 30 weeks down, 10 to go until the due date.
Grab and drink, have a seat, digest. That’s what we’ve been doing for the past few weeks (minus the drink). This story is best illustrated by taking you back a couple months to early May.
It was a sunny Thursday afternoon, the kids were asleep and I was at my computer doing some work and chatting online with my sister. Picture a warm sisterly conversation about her pregnancy and how she was planning to announce her exciting news. I began to complain to her about how tired I’ve been lately and how I just can’t seem to keep my eyes open. She responded with wow, the kids tiring you out that much? Are you??? I was quick to return with “uh…there’s no way.” The response died on the keyboard as I stared at the glass of milk I’d been sucking down.(I LOVE LOVE LOVE and crave milk when I’m pregnant and drink gallons and gallons). Panic did not set in, denial did. There is no way there is no way there is no way. So I grabbed a calendar and was shocked to see that my monthly “friend” had not visited for some time. My sister, ever the logical one encouraged me to get a pregnancy test so as soon as the kids were up we trucked off to CVS under the guise of getting dad a birthday card and picked up a test. I took it as soon as I got home. Positive. Thus began a text interlude between Brieanne and I that I will not go into because I am ashamed at some of the language I used. It was a long hour before Josh came home and I did not spend the time pondering how I could creatively tell him our news I just blurted it out as soon as he walked through the door. Props to Josh he just hugged me and reminded me that things would be ok.
Now, to be clear, we wanted more than two kids. I wanted four, Josh wanted two but was open to three. After Conor however, we needed to think logically and not emotionally. The economy is tough, we live in a two bedroom place, things are challenging at Josh’s work and they are facing pay cuts so we need to table the more children conversation for a little bit to be smart for our family. Claire and Conor have also been a handful for me lately and I had really begun to think perhaps our family is complete as is.
The past few weeks I’ve been drawing strength from many truths that I’ve read and heard from others over the years. God works in mysterious ways, God will provide, God will not give you more than you can handle. So we are leaning on those truths and have made Matthew 6 part of our daily reading.
We are thankful for this addition to our family and becoming more and more excited each day. It is clear this is the Lord’s plan for our family and we are looking forward to seeing how he uses this latest bit of news to shape and grow our family. This baby is due January 2012 and could continue the family tradition of being born on mom’s birthday. (My sister was born on my mom’s birthday). Cupcake (as Auntie B has affectionately named baby 3) is growing and developing well. Doc couldn’t hear his/her heartbeat on the doppler this morning so they did a quick ultrasound to make sure all was a-ok and it was.
You’ve heard this from me many times as of late but when there are so many things pointing that way, how can I not? Can Claire REALLY be 17 months? Can it REALLY be March? Am I REALLY 24 (ok almost 25) weeks pregnant? My goodness it’s all going by so fast.
So, while reading this morning at the very Godly hour of 5am, I came across the name Zelophehad (who?), you know Zelophehad – the son of Hepher, Makir’s grandson or something like that. Got me thinking, Zelophehad Smith, son of Joshua. Has a ring to it-once you figure out how to pronounce it. A work colleague the other day was asking me what Josh and I are naming baby Zelo (as I will call him for today) and was annoyed that I wouldn’t discuss names with him (my colleague). I explained that its our family policy not to talk about those things outside our home. Anyway, he started suggesting names and got off on this Biblical tangent and how many solid, good names are in the bible. While I don’t disagree, I doubt he was thinking of Zelophehad or Nun or Gedor when he made the suggestion.
Anyway, so here Zelo and I find ourselves at 24 almost 25 weeks. Thus far we feel great and dare I say it? It doesn’t seem that Zelo is quite as demonstrative of his kicking skills as his sister – at least at this time. Is it too soon to hope that maybe my rib will be spared this time? Yeah, that’s probably premature. According thenest.com, Zelo is papaya size right now. Happy growing little Zelo (don’t worry, we won’t really name you Zelo Smith).
