Julia's Birth Story, Part III

Read the first two parts here.

The next 13 minutes were like a scene out of a movie.  The baby's car seat was directly behind my seat, which meant I couldn't recline.  So instead, with each contraction I planted my feet firmly on the floor, arched my back and gripped the back of the seat.  I was trying not to freak Jon out, but I also wanted to make sure he knew this baby's birth was imminent.  As soon as we pulled out onto the main road we got stuck behind two slow moving vehicles.  "Just pass them on the left!" I yelled, right before another contraction hit... and along with it the urge to push.  I spent the rest of the trip yelling, breathing and praying with everything I had in me that we would make it in time.

Jon was pushing 80mph, and we flew by two cops. Thankfully they didn't come after us because there was no way we could have stopped.  About halfway to the Birth Center (typically a 20 minute drive) my hands went numb.  This happened to me during transition with both my boys, moments before it was time to push.  I started shaking my wrists, hoping that if the numbness went away maybe I could put off this birth a little longer, while also praying "Oh God, not now, please let us make it.  Jesus please!!"  Meanwhile Jon kept saying, "You're doing fine, you're doing good.  She's not coming yet..."

At 1:13am my water broke.  Jon sped through the next red light and turned into the Birth Center parking lot.  I immediately noticed there were no cars in the lot and no lights on in the Center.  "Oh God, the midwife's not here!" I yelled.  And then my body started pushing and there was nothing I could do to stop it.  Jon asked if he should call 911.  "Yes!" I screamed, "It's coming!"  But I knew it was too late.  And so, as Ina May would say, I "let my monkey do it."  I never imagined I would deliver my own baby one day.  I'm not a doctor.  I don't have a midwifery background.  But I have had two other kids.  And when it really comes down to it, a mama just knows what to do.  So at 1:15am, as Jon was digging around in his pocket for his cell phone, I pulled down my pants and with one push her head was in my hands, just as the midwife's car pulled in next to us.  The baby immediately started crying and I felt sudden relief.  Jon yelled for Nikki to come quick and with the next push the baby's body was in my hands and the midwife was by my side.  She lifted my shirt and put the baby on my chest.  Then took off her coat and covered us both, while Jon grabbed the first thing he could find - my robe - and threw that over us as well.  It was 40 degrees out that night and imperative we keep the baby's temperature up. 

Baby was crying and breathing fine, the midwife was apologizing for not arriving sooner and I was apologizing for not holding her in a few minutes longer. Then we all took a look at one another and laughed with relief.  As Jon said, "I've never felt so alive!"  It was a crazy moment.

We needed to get the baby and I inside.  This is the part that makes Jon and I laugh the most.  I held the baby to my stomach and, with my pants around my ankles and the umblicial cord still connected, waddled into the Birth Center.  Someone asked if I was worried about anyone seeing.  Nope, definitely didn't cross my mind.  But thankfully the entrance to the delivery rooms is behind the Center and faces the woods.  Not to mention it was dark out. 

This is my "I cannot believe I just gave birth in a car" face.

The midwife prepped the bed quick and then Baby and I crawled in under the heated blankets.  I started shivering but I think it was more out of pure adrenaline than chill.  I still had no idea if I had given birth to a boy or girl, since I hadn't had a chance to look when she was born and had kept her on my stomach ever since.  So the midwife lifted her up for a quick peak and confirmed that we indeed had a daugther.  At the Birth Center they keep the baby attached to the umbilical cord until it stops pulsating.  So until then, she handed Jon some towels for a quick clean-up of the car.  I didn't see the mess we left behind, but this has been everyone's (especially the guys') first question.  According to Jon it "wasn't that bad."  He cleaned what he could while we were there and then gave the front seat a thorough detail job after we got home.

Julia was a clean baby too.  I have to admit, she's 4 days old and we haven't given her a bath yet.  I just haven't had the energy and I doubt she'd like it anyway.  But she was beautiful the moment she was born.  No blood, none of that white stuff.  She's pretty much just perfect!

After Jon got back and after he cut the cord and we delivered the placenta, we finally got a chance to rest.  They wait a few hours to weigh the baby, so that there is ample skin-to-skin time which helps regulate baby's body temperature and is good for bonding.  Besides, who wants to let go of their new baby?  After months of toting her around in my belly it felt so good to have her in my arms!  So Julia and I snuggled in bed for a few hours while Jon took a nap next to us.

Eventually the nurse came in to look her over and take footprints.  Julia weighed 7 pounds and was 20 inches long.  My tiniest offspring to date.  She was born at 38 weeks, 6 days according to my adjusted due date.  But according to the nurse she appeared to be about 40 weeks, 2 days.  So there went my whole due date theory.  In the end, it was probably still good that I pushed for a due date adjustment.  Otherwise I would have been measuring too far behind and probably would have needed to undergo some tests and observations.  As it stood, she was an average-sized, healthy baby whom I just "carried small." 

By law, the minimum amount of time you have to stay at a Birth Center is 4 hours.  The nurse said we could either leave at exactly 4 hours or we could stay and get some sleep.  I knew I would rest much better at home so we elected to be out the door at 5:15am.  All that's required is that Mom pees and takes a shower.  Check and check.  We went through some "education" - a talk on what to do, what not to do, what things to look for in both baby and mom over the next few days, and symptoms of Group B Strep (since I had tested positive and there hadn't been time to start antibiotics before the baby was born).  It was a lot of information, and I wish they would have written it all down because I was still a bit delirious and Jon slept right through all of it.  Then we loaded up the car, had our picture taken and were out the door by 5:20am.

Not-so-great pictures taken by the nurse, but it's all I've got.  Jon's still looking a bit shell-shocked.

We were home before the boys woke up.  They never even knew we were gone.  But it had been a crazy 12 hours.  We're just grateful it all worked out so well.  I'm a little disappointed that I didn't get to take full advantage of all the Birth Center amenities.  But I really can't complain about my delivery, it was definitely the easiest one yet!  Also, I really don't mind that I gave birth in the car.  I think some people are a little freaked out by the whole story.  Sure it's not typical and yes something could have went wrong.  But it didn't.  There were no IVs, no monitoring, no one telling me I was "this many" centimeters along... and it never really hit me that I was missing all that stuff.  And while it would have been nice if the midwife had been there a few seconds earlier, I'm just happy she arrived when she did.  If Jon had found his cell phone ear piece a moment sooner, he would have had 911 on the phone and we would have ended up being taken to the hospital for observation, and tests, and overnight stays, etc.  I definitely didn't want that.  So I guess in some ways the timing worked out perfectly.  We just continue to thank God for a safe birth and healthy baby and mama!

Would I do a Birth Center again?  Absolutely.  And I hope I will (but that is another conversation with my husband and probably not one we'll have for quite some time).  But next time I defiinitely will not let things go so long.  After three births I finally feel like I know my body well enough, I think I could get it right with a fourth try.  But that's next time.  For now, we're just going to enjoy this lovely little lady and all the surprises she's brought along with her.  And probably get a few more good laughs in over her crazy birth story!

Julia's Birth Story, Part II

About an hour after I hung up the phone with my Dad, contractions continued to come strong and regular, about 7 minutes apart.  I still didn't know if this was the real thing or not, but decided it wasn't worth taking a chance.  So at 7:30pm I called back and, as my husband would say, "activated 'Operation Grandparents.'"  They were in their car at 8pm with an ETA of 11pm.  And I said a quick prayer again that the timing would all work out perfectly.

I decided a hot shower was in order to (a) determine if this was real labor and (b) make sure I had nice, freshly shaved legs for my baby's birth.  The little guys were in bed by now so I took my time and thoroughly enjoyed the peace and quiet.  Well the quiet part for sure, I was only enjoying peace in between contractions, which were nearing 5 minutes apart at this time and becoming more and more intense.  It was clear this was the real thing, so I figured now was a good time to fix my hair and make-up.

I should say here that I was slightly disappointed when labor started in the evening ... again.  All of my kids have been born through the night.  It's exhausting.  And there's no one awake on Facebook or Twitter to cheer you on when the baby is born.  Just once I'd like to have a baby born during normal waketime hours, when I have the energy to actually handle an active labor.  But this was not one of those times.  I was quickly getting tired and decided to try to sleep in between contractions, while keeping an eye on my timer phone app.  Meanwhile Jon was watching TV - flipping between football and some crazy zombie movie. Which  made it even easier to just shut my eyes.

At around 9:30 contractions were consistently five minutes apart,and had been for over an hour, which is when the Birthing Center suggests coming in.  I knew my parents were halfway to our house and was still feeling pretty good.  So I sent up a few more prayers for "perfect timing" and tried to go back to sleep. 

At 10:45 I called the midwife to let her know where things stood.  Since the Birthing Center is not staffed in the evenings, you have to call an answering service, who then pages the midwife, who then calls you back.  I was happy to hear the voice of one of my favorite midwifes on the line and knew Nikki would be the one delivering my baby that night.  I had called her in between a contraction, explained that they had been coming every 4-5 minutes for over an hour now, but that I still felt really good in between.  She said it was totally up to me if I wanted to come in now, or just have some wine and take a hot bath and see if things kept progressing.  She sounded calm, I felt good, so I opted to stay at home a little longer and see where things went (sans wine and bath).  Instead I grabbed my water bottle and laid down on the couch.  A few minutes later my parents arrived and, after showing off all the new little outfits she'd found yard saling last weekend, my mom kept me distracted with a few bits of conversation in between labor pains. 

By midnight contractions were 3-4 minutes apart.  But they still felt the same and I just wasn't sure at what point to go in.  Jon had gone to bed earlier and my mom was sleeping in the chair.  I started thinking about my 24 hour labor with Jack and my 12 hour labor with Jude, and realized this one had already reached 7 hours.  I walked around the house a little while longer and that's when contractions started to really get intense.  At 12:42am I called the Birthing Center answering service again who paged the midwife.  I went upstairs to tell Jon that as soon as the midwife called back we were going in - put the bags in the car!  Instead, he rolled over and went back to sleep.  The midwife never called back.  Meanwhile I started feeling "pressure" with each contraction.  I knew we didn't have much time, so I waited exactly 15 minutes (12:57am), which is what they suggested in our class, and called back.  They connected me directly to Nikki who apologized for not getting the page and I cut her off with, "This is it, I'm ready to come in!"  She promised to leave right away and meet us there.  As I hung up there was another super-intense contraction that left me gasping for breath.  I yelled for Jon, who was still sleeping, that we needed to leave NOW! 

He threw the bags in the car and as I'm walking out the door I remembered my friend Megan's text from earlier saying, "Don't forget an 'on the way to the hospital pic' like you always do!" For a moment I considered calling Jon back in with the camera, but at the same instant another contraction hit and with it the all too familiar "ring of fire." I knew there was no time for pictures and quickly slid into the front seat. We backed out of the driveway at exactly 1:02am. As we started to leave I was suddenly hit with the thought "I should have grabbed a towel." But it was too late to go back. Another contraction left me barely able to stay in my seat and with just enough energy to gasp, "Oh God, please let us make it in time!"

Julia's Birth Story, Part I

I need to start out with an apology to my sweet daughter.  You mother did not do a good job documenting the hours leading up to your birth.  I want you to know that I had excellent intentions and the process perfectly planned out in my head.  But Baby Girl, since the start, you have had a way of foiling all our plans.  So I promise to do my very best with words, to cover what we didn't capture with a camera...

We had a lovely weekend.  It is October now.  The mornings are dark.  The air is chilly.  And the leaves are just starting to litter the lawn.  There's no doubt that autumn has arrived.  And the only thing better than a quiet fall evening, cozy at home with my little family is a quiet fall evening, cozy at home with my little family and pregnant.  Because being pregnant brings out all the homey-sentimental feelings in my soul.  And we lived autumn this weekend.

Jon had requested that the baby hold off a bit so he could relax and get some house projects done.  We made it through his training last week and although he still had some travel scheduled this Thursday, it wasn't a big deal.  I had a hunch that we might be meeting our daughter sooner rather than later.  But I also figured she wasn't done growing since I was still so tiny.  And it always seems to me that people who hope to have their babies early end up having them late.  So I tried not to think about it other than a few subtle hints just to keep Jon on his toes.

I had an agenda for this free weekend.  I had a to-do list on my desk to work through - switch out the boys' wardrobes, buy diapers, clean out the freezer, do all the ironing, etc. - but I also wanted to get out and have some fun as a family.  And by fun I mean eating barbacoa tacos at a kid-friendly restaurant where the music is loud enough to drown out my kids' shrieks.  Ah, yes, Chipotle.  How my pregnant-self loves thee.  Dinner was fabulous, the spices in my taco just perfect and my boys' a bucket of fun.  The best part was when the lady sitting next to us commented on how happy and content they were.  I couldn't respond at first, I was slightly stunned and I also had a just taken a big bite of taco, but my mama heart swelled with pride for a moment over my happy, content little guys... and how much I love being their mama.

On Saturday the boys were up early with cold fingers and toes.  So Jon threw them in our bed and we all did our best to warm up before breakfast.  Having the whole family in bed has nothing to do with sleep and everything to do with hiding under covers, tickling toes, wrestling Daddy and attempting to keep tumblers off Mama's belly.  We spent the day at home - Jon doing outside work and me cleaning the house and baking in the kitchen.  Jon said this should have been his first sign.

Jack at breakfast: "Look, I got a sister-belly!"

Along with Chipotle I've been craving soft pretzels all week.  What I really wanted to do with go to the mall and walk around with a giant soft pretzel and big fizzy drink.  But having two youngsters in tow kinda makes that plan unappealing.  So instead I made my own soft pretzels at home and browsed a few onlines shops, looking for some non-maternity must-have to treat myself with. 

There was one other treat I couldn't get off my mind this week - ham and cream cheese wrapped pickles.  I don't even like pickles.  But I couldn't stop eating these.  In fact, Jon made up a huge plate for lunch the next day and the whole family partook in their sweet, salty goodness.  Between the cooking, cleaning and satisfaction of my every craving, I was really feeling pregnant this weekend.

The only thing I didn't accomplish was some maternity pictures.  I really wanted some nice pictures this time around, since I never had any with the boys either.  I just kept putting it off until I could get bigger.  I even told myself when we got home from church that I should take one while I was all dressed-up.  But I decided I just wanted to get out of my dress and heels and would wait until I was really 39 weeks.  And then we ran out of time.  That's what happens when you always assume you have at least "one more day."

We had a pleasant Sunday afternoon.  The boys took a great, long nap and I decided to inventory my freezer and pantries to get a good idea of what kind of food we had in the house.  I was feeling very organized and so ready to have this baby.  Well, prepared I should say.  I'm not sure if I ever felt ready.  I was in the kitchen making dinner (along with my big helper, always-by-my-side second-born) when the first contractions started.

Now I've been having contractions for months now.  But these were immediately different.  They were low and sharp.  And reminded me of what the start of labor felt like with Jude.  But I just pushed it out of my mind and tried to focus on creating a meal ... a quite horrible, overcooked meal of boneless ribs I had dug out of the bottom of my freezer.  :)

My last belly shot, contractions while making dinner.

My family choked down my labor of love while I took a few time-outs for contractions.  I started watching the clock and they were coming in pretty regular about every 8 minutes.  And far more intense than I had imagined so early.  I finally told Jon I needed to take a break and focus on what was happening.  Then I headed up to the bedroom with a contraction timer and left him in the kitchen with two messy boys and a pile of dishes.  My dad called around this point to ask a question and before we hung up I reminded him, yet again, to make sure his bag was packed and have the phone ready because this might be the night (I can't tell you how many times I've tried calling my parents recently and neither of them answered their phones)!  My mom was busy making treats in the kitchen and promised to be ready when we were!

Our plan was to have Marmie and Poppa come down once labor started (a 3 hour drive) and hopefully have them arrive before it was time to head to the Birthing Center.  If that didn't happen soon enough we were going to have Uncle Jared, who was on his way home from New York City Sunday night, come stay at the house until they got there.  And if that couldn't happen we were just going to have to drag the kids along with us, which was fine with the midwives but not so appealing to me.  Timing was essential this time around.  My biggest prayer this pregnancy was for a smooth, perfectly-timed delivery.  We had no idea it would literally come down to the very last second!

Introducing...

We celebrated the miracle of life again this morning with the arrival of our third baby, and first daughter, Julia Katherine.  Julia had quite the dramatic entrance, the story keeps getting better and better each time we tell it!  I'll be sure to post the details as soon as I get the chance.  But for now we're just soaking up the sweetness of newbornhood ... and trying to sneak in a quick nap any chance we get!

You Have Big Courage

My current state has encouraged many a comment from friendly outsiders.  As if just being pregnant isn't enough of an attention magnet, being pregnant and trying to maneuver one 17-month-old escape artist and one puddle-jumping, shoe-losing, excited-as-a-puppy 3 year old certainly brings on the sympathetic looks, smirks and shaking heads.  And usually wherever we are, at least one person comments on my cute sons, how small I'm carrying, when I'm due, how old the are boys, etc.  And then the creative comments come out:

"Oh, you're going to have your hands full!" (I already do!)
"You're gonna be busy!" (Oh I know it!)
"You need to get your husband cable TV!"  (Excuse me!?)
"It will get easier!" (But until then ...)
And a slew of colorful comments from Jon's male co-workers that we won't mention here.

But my personal favorite came from a European woman working at Wawa:
"Oh, you have big courage!"

I do?

Because I certainly didn't set out on this path on purpose.  No, I did not wake up one morning and say to myself, "I think I'll just go ahead and have 3 babies in 3 years, won't that be fun?!"  And I certainly never pictured myself in this situation a few years ago.  In fact, I was just reading an assignment I had in 11th grade Advanced Composition where I had to describe my life 10 years from now.  My current situation is looking very different from the scrawled dreams of a 17-year-old.

I kept thinking of that lady's comment for the rest of the day.  What did she mean?  I certainly don't feel courageous.  In fact, I often feel very, very nervous.  And sometimes even embarassed.  What is it about having three little ones that makes a woman brave?  Why are babies considered dangerous territory?

Recently a friend of mine posted this article on Facebook.  I've read it a few times, because I think it's good.  And you know what, it gives me courage.  The author, Rachel Jankovic, writes about Motherhood is a Calling and Where Your Children Rank.  She says,

"The truth is that years ago, before this generation of mothers was even born, our society decided where children rank in the list of important things. When abortion was legalized, we wrote it into law.

Children rank way below college. Below world travel for sure. Below the ability to go out at night at your leisure. Below honing your body at the gym. Below any job you may have or hope to get. In fact, children rate below your desire to sit around and pick your toes, if that is what you want to do. Below everything. Children are the last thing you should ever spend your time doing."

And I will be the first to admit I've been guilty of these thoughts a few times myself.  Seriously, what I would give just to have the freedom to sit around and pick my toes (not that I would really do that!).  But ultimately I know my kiddos are an absolute gift ... and their timing is too.  Because I certainly didn't plan that!  And despite the sacrifices, the "death to self," the dreams laid to rest - I'm living the dream.  And then Jankovic said something else that really hit me hard:

"Christian mothers carry their children in hostile territory. When you are in public with them, you are standing with, and defending, the objects of cultural dislike. You are publicly testifying that you value what God values, and that you refuse to value what the world values. You stand with the defenseless and in front of the needy. You represent everything that our culture hates, because you represent laying down your life for another—and laying down your life for another represents the gospel."

I don't take both boys out in public much by myself, actually I try to avoid such situations if at all possible.  But I love her perspective on family as a testimony.  And it makes me want to make sure I'm sending the right message.  Yes, I love these little ones.  But I also value them, they are the most important things to Jon and I.  And regardless of their intentionality, I know they have a purpose.  Regardless of our "plan" (or lack of) I know that God has a plan for them.  And it's my goal to not interfere with that and to never, ever make them feel like a burden, a phase, a "hiccup" ...

And while I don't think this is what "Wawa lady" had in mind at all when she told me I had "big courage", I hope she is right.  I hope that as my babies' mama I have the courage show the world what I really value. 

Yes, my hands are full.  Yes, life is very busy.  No, I will not be going back to school, or writing a book, or taking that 5th anniversary trip to the Carribbean.  At least not any time soon.  Yes, my house is often a mess.  My laundry is stacked higher than my children.  I don't have time to put on make-up every day.  Sometimes I end up skipping a shower.  I'm continuously behind on the latest trends.  And I haven't been to a gym in years.

But I have three little lives in my charge.  Three little gifts.  Three "arrows in my quiver" and three "shoots around my table."  And they are so worth it.  You know what they say:  "My hands are full ... but so is my heart."

Our Story, Part XIV: Semper Paratus Wedding Plans

Well Baby Girl seems intent on NOT having her own birth month.  She must take after her father in this area, I would have done everything in my power to preserve my uniqueness.  So unless some freak sort of labor starts up soon, we're in store for another October baby.  Seems like a good night to continue on with "Our Story."  If you need to catch up on past installments of "Our Story" you can do so here.

The Coast Guard's motto is Semper Paratus.  It's a good thing I spent four years in high school studying the incredibly useful langugage of Latin, because I can now tell you without any help from Google, that it means always prepared.  Of course, you've probably heard it all before on this blog.  It's a favorite phrase in our house.  I really do appreciate the meaning and I would say that here in our little Coastie abode we live up to this motto fairly well.  But it also makes me laugh because the military lifestyle often leaves little room for preparedness.  Unless they mean "always prepared to have the rug pulled out from under your feet" or "always prepared to move somewhere unknown at a moment's notice" or "always prepared to say goodbye to your hubby this very minute if necessary" ... I digress.

Proverbs 16:9 says "A man's heart plans his way, but the Lord directs his steps."  In this case, "A woman's heart plans her wedding, but the government directs its time."

Virginia Aquarium IMAX theater.

We set the date for July 15 and originally had hopes to wed in the little white chapel where my parents said their vows and where my G'Ma attended church.  But we later determined that it was too small for our guest list, too hot in July without air conditioning, and too ridiculous that the pastor of the church (whom I didn't even know) had to be the one to pronounce us husband and wife.  So we settled on our home church (a.k.a. a done-over movie theater) and our dear family pastor that Jon and I both grew up with.  By the time I returned to school that fall I had a date, church, reception hall and wedding dress.  Since I had a very full and busy semester, and since Jon was away in training for most of that fall, we decided that was enough details to get us through until after the holidays, when we would have more time to plan.

Fall 2005 was a tough semester for me.  It was strange being engaged, but not having your fiance around.  I felt like I needed to be all grown up and responsible, but I still wanted to have fun.  Then again, between my courseload and jobs, I didn't have much time for fun anyway.  I did manage two trips down to Virginia to spend some quality time with my guy though.  Those trips were the highlights of my semester!

But then I'd come back and get all depressed again.  And it didn't help that Jon seemed to be having more fun with his roommates than with me.  He, Nick and Luke would cook fancy dinners together, light a fire in the fireplace, watch movies, walk on the beach, take out the jet ski or go to the mall.  Of course, this was only the beginning.  I had no idea what kind of imposition a new bride can be on her hubby's "buddies," especially the ones he's been through thick and thin with during the past 5 years.  But that's another story.

Of course, every moment we'd get to spend together made it harder and harder to be apart.  And then Jon started scoping out the local courthouse and discussing a little meeting with the Justice of the Peace.  And then he broke down the numbers and determined the thousands of dollars we'd make in benefits, separation pay, housing allowance, etc. if we married a little earlier than July 15.  And I wouldn't have to worry about living without health insurance for 7 months.  And it would all be so easy and fun ...

I have tons of "self-timer" pictures like this per my guy's request in those days.

But don't worry Mom and Dad and anyone else who's wondering, we didn't do it.  Jon and I were never married before our wedding date.  In fact, it soon didn't matter anymore because right around Thanksgiving, while I was out with some friends to see "Pride and Prejudice" and have dinner, Jon called to say that his long spring patrol - the 3-monther - was now switched to May through August.  Smack-dab over our wedding date.  So we had two options: get married in the winter and spend an entire summer without my husband or hold off until after his return and celebrate our nuptials with a beautiful Pennsylvania fall backdrop...

December 2, 2005
"At first I was a little upset - stupid Coast Guard.  But now the wedding is March 25th and I'm way more happy with that.  Only 4 months!"

Which also meant only 4 months to plan almost the entire wedding, since I had been putting it off.  And I still had to finish my semester and get myself graduated.  Thankfully that all went off without a hitch.

My little December graduation ... nothing like a Coast Guard Academy grad week!

By Christmas 2005 (which we sadly spent apart since Jon was deployed at the time) I was officially a degreed woman.  A degreed woman without a job.  But I was excited about throwing myself into planning our sweet wedding ceremony and happy future together!

Locked and Loaded

I am ready. 

Long time blog readers may be shocked at that statement.  I'm the girl who never feels ready to have a baby.  I'm the preggo who always hopes to "go late."  I'm the sentimental mama who wants just one more day to savor that "baby in my belly" feeling.

But this time is different.  I am ready.

38 weeks

Don't get me wrong, I'm still crazy nervous about bringing a newborn into this circus of a house.  And if I knew I wasn't due for a month or two I'd be happy to keep right on going this way.  But I'm not.  Baby could freely, healthily come tonight ... or 4 weeks from now.  And knowing that is making me edgy.  And not knowing how things are going to go with three small children is making me edgy too.  And so to get past all this edginess I say we just do it!  Let's have this kid.

And then my husband attempts the "so this is our last one, right?" conversation and suddenly I just want to be pregnant forever.  I'm full-term for the third time in three years.  I'm emotional and anxious and uncomfortable.  And my mind is so pre-occupied with baby and birth and all the logistics that go along with that.  Let's not have this discussion right now.

According to the midwife this morning baby is "locked and loaded."  Head down ... down ... down.  She's not going anywhere but out.  Which means we're well on our way to full-blown labor.  Which doesn't really mean anything because babies can hang out like that for hours ... or weeks. 

And even though I've been steadily gaining one pound a week for months now, today I was only measuring 35 weeks.  Once the baby really drops though those measurements start to become inaccurate.  In other words, we won't be getting much bigger around here.

I've certainly done my part in the "growth" area.

And so I feel like I've maxed this pregnancy out, we've run our course Baby Girl.  We've done all there is to do.  If you want to hang out in there a little longer and get chunky that's okay.  But I'd love to have a September baby, just to mix things up a bit.  And just in case you do decide to come sooner rather than later, Mama's got our bag all packed.  But let's keep this just between us.  Because I have a feeling if you asked your Daddy when would be a convenient time, well we just might never get an answer.