Going home

Going home from the hospital was a little more bitter sweet for me this time around. I have always been very anxious to get home after having a baby, but this time was different. I couldn't decide whether to go home the next day or stay for the whole alloted amount of time(2 days-I know-tough choices I have to make). I actually cried when trying to make that decision. I'll blame the wacked out hormones. I know I've said this before, but I am really confident this is the last baby. That means this is the last baby I will bring home from the hospital and for me that is very sad. The last first night home, the last first bath, the last straight from heaven newborn. It's all a bit overwhelming. 

I don't like change. At. All. It even annoys me when Paul rearranges furniture. That being said, I have delivered all 5 babies with different caregivers. We have brought each child home to a different house in a different car. It's almost too much for me to deal with. I definitely don't like changing life phases either. We will no longer be the young parents having children-suddenly our children are growing up and we are parents of big kids who fight constantly and don't like to be seen with us in public. But this baby makes me feel young and somehow useful and needed. But as Paul keeps telling me, "someone has to be the last one." It might as well be him. And this might as well be my last night with a newborn in the hospital, so I chose to go to the chaos of home just in time to put the kids to bed and enjoy time alone with my new bundle. Boy is he sweet!

And just a little bit puffy and swollen.

In his going home outfit that probably won't fit him for more than a minute.

All buckled in and ready to go.

Trying to be happy about leaving, but knowing in the back of mind what I am in for. If only every child could be the first child. 

First bath

Eli got a bit cold when the kids were holding him and unwrapping him, so they had to warm him up a bit under the heat lamp before they could bath him. He is sporting the low rise diaper look-I hear it's the look for fall.

He can cry!

I know this one is blurry. I took it through the glass from inside the nursery, but I love the expression on Asher's face. I think it was Emma that made a very keen observation during bath time. "His pee pee looks different than Asher's." Do they really have to notice every single, little thing?

After his bath, grandpa and grandma got to hold him. Of course Asher had to assist Grandpa.

Grandma, very pleased with the new addition.

First few hours with family

Little mister E spent his first few hours eating, sleeping and being held and inspected by his adoring family. But mostly he ate, which means just his mom got to adore him. Hours well spent!

Abbey has never been one to ooh and awe over babies. We used to have to bribe her with candy to get pictures with each additional sibling. Time has not changed things much I'm afraid. Her first comment as she came into my room was, "I wanted a girl...are there vending machines here?" She did, however, find him very cute.

Claire and Emma were intrigued by his tiny-ness, but mostly by his umbilical cord, which was still kind of long at this point and what they termed, "squishy."

Asher was the first one through the door and demanded, "Where is my baby? I want to hold my baby." He climbed right up and assumed his big brotherly duties. Such a proud moment for him.

Shortly after birth, Paul logged into my facebook account and updated my status. Heaven forbid he actually log into his account once in a while.

Finally feeling like I could hold and love and be so excited about the new addition-still nameless at this point. Well worth the pain(and the extra rolls under my chin!)

Details

Eli, just moments after his grand entrance into the world.

Since this is my only form of journaling, I am writing down the details of Eli's birth before they disappear into the the fog of my mommy brain. If you are squeamish or uncomfortable with birth details, leave now. Don't say I didn't warn you.

This was probably my best birth experience and by best, I mean shortest. When having a natural birth, I've found that the shorter, the better. Go figure.

For about 10 days before he was born, I cramped and dilated and effaced on and off and had no baby. I was getting frustrated. Not frustrated that the baby wasn't here, just annoyed that I was so uncomfortable in the process. When my midwife checked me the Monday before he was born, she said I was a 2 and 70%. I had her strip my membranes and for the next couple days, I cramped and contracted and bled even more. I got checked on Wednesday at labor and delivery and I was a 3 and 80%. This was going to be another long process! Then things quieted down for the rest of the week and I made my next appointment for Monday afternoon and scheduled a girls night out for that night at my favorite Indian restaurant. I just adore my favorite girls and was really looking forward to seeing them, two of which live out of state.

Of course I woke up that morning around 6 with pretty intense, consistent contractions and as I could hear Paul getting ready to go into work I knew he was going to be annoyed when I told him he better not go. He hid his annoyance, and humored me since he'd heard this bit at least 4 times during the course of the last week. Around 8:30, I called my mom and reluctantly told her she'd better come over. She had a doctors appointment that afternoon that she really needed to go to, so Monday really wasn't the best day for all of this. By the time I got the kids all situated, it was after 9 before we left the house. I called my midwife on the way and she told me to stop by the office so she could check me before I made a trip to the hospital. Then I had two more contractions and knew I didn't want to waste time going to the office. I called her back and said I was going straight to the hospital. I got there just before 10 am and I could tell they wanted to put me in a triage room to check me before they checked me in. I told them just to put me in a room. I have a tendency to be a bit demanding when in pain or under pressure. When the nurse checked me, to my relief, she said I was a 7. My biggest fear was that they were going to tell me I was still a 3 or 4 and I'd have to have a big old long labor in the hospital again. My midwife came awhile later and also checked me and said I was a 6. Bummer-obviously it's not a clear science. After I begged her again(we'd already had a similar conversation at my last appointment) not to break my water, she left for a little while and Paul stepped out of the room for a minute as well. The baby's head was still high and posterior so I didn't want my water broken because posterior labor is so painful once the water is broken and I was stuck at an 8 like that with Asher for 3 hours. I was pretty sure I couldn't do that again.

She suggested I sit on the birth ball and lean over the bed to get the baby turned the right way, so just minutes after she walked out the door, I sat on the ball, felt a huge pop inside and my water broke all over the ball and floor. So much for my convincing argument. This was around 11:30. Paul finally came back to the room, as well as the nurse, and helped me get cleaned up and into the bed as the contractions were really intense now and I could no longer walk in between them. My midwife came back and checked me and said I was still a 6-7 and I needed to lay on my stomach to get the baby turned. After only what can be described as the most horrendously painful moments of my life(I'm not sure how long it was, but it was less than an hour) I felt like pushing and she said I was about a 9 1/2 and that she's hold the cervix out of the way if I wanted to push. These minutes were all a blur and although Paul and the nurse said it was really short, it felt like an eternity to me. They, after all, were not the ones pushing a baby from their bodies.

I think I remember my midwife having to turn his head and then she said the head was out and I kept thinking, "then why isn't the rest of it coming out?" Then there was a bit about the shoulders not coming and those having to be turned as well. I remember a horrible turning feeling and I recall screaming at her to get it out and she replied very calmly that she couldn't and I was going to have to push it out. At least someone in the room was level headed. At 12:39 pm, he was calmly(he was calm, me, not so much) born and she laid him on my stomach and let me pull his legs open and see for myself what the sex was(another one of my silly requests). I had waited nine months for my surprise and I didn't want anyone ruining it for me. No big surprise-I had felt all along that it was a boy. He had the same issue as his brother though-an extremely short chord. At both births, both midwives said they had never seen a chord that short. What can I say-I like to keep my boys on a short leash. After Paul cut the cord, she asked me if I wanted to hold him and nurse him and I felt so bad, but I didn't. The pain had been so overwhelming, that I just needed awhile to regroup. I held him just for a bit and then I asked them to take him and they weighed him and all that stuff and then Paul held him for awhile. The odd thing is, I don't remember him crying. At all. I think he might have let out yelp when they suctioned him, but he was calm and wide eyed and hungry. He kept smacking his lips and sticking his tongue out. This went on for about an hour or 2 until I felt like feeding him.

For the first few hours I was just in shock that it all happened so fast. My labors are never short. I didn't even get a chance to break down and ask for pain meds-although I did ask for Zofran for the nausea. As heinous as I thought the pain was, I didn't tear or have an episiotomy and for that I was profoundly grateful. My baby was perfect and he was out and that was what mattered most.

I have never questioned my decision to have my last three children VBAC. It always felt like the right thing to do for me. Choosing to have them with midwives was also never a question. Emma's midwife played a huge role in this and for her I will always be grateful. I did see an OB with each of my pregnancies-just in case, but I feel I got far superior and personalized care with a midwife. I know it's not for everyone, but I had completely uncomplicated pregnancies and deliveries which I attribute to the care of each midwife-so there you have it-my plug for midwives and natural childbirth. For me, personally, I have never had a greater sense of accomplishment than having my last two children naturally. Not that I didn't feel accomplishment with the girls(especially Emma), but I really wish they all could have been like that. On the other hand, I have experienced all realms of childbirth: c-sections, VBAC with an epidural, VBAC without, so I really can say, "I know what it feels like." The miracle of each child was a pretty good feeling though, regardless of how they were born.

Now if you're completely bored and a little grossed out, don't say I didn't warn you.

Eli Alvin

Little mister Eli Alvin Reynolds arrived on Monday, July 27 at 12:39 pm

He weighed in at a hefty 7 lbs 1 oz(let's remember my biggest baby prior to this was 6 lbs 8oz) and was 19 in long.

His skin was a bit dry, his fingernails long and he can totally lift his head and turn it around. I suspect he may have cooked a bit long! No matter, we are completely in love with him and there is no doubt he is our child-they all seem to look the same.

I just love this shot because his features look so manly-brow line, nose, etc. and he is demonstrating his super baby strength.

Very content and sweet

The cheeks-ah, the cheeks!

More details to come when someone's belly is full-I guess I should feed the baby too.

Cowabunga!

We took the kids to Cowabunga Bay water park in Draper and had a blast-especially since we had a surprise visit from uncle Josh this morning. Yeah! for surprises from North Carolina. It's going to be a fun weekend. Jared will be coming tomorrow and now all we need are Chris and co. and Sis. Is that too much to ask? Okay, CC you're off the hook for now. Just have that baby soon.  

Fun things about Cowabunga Bay:

It is on the smaller end of water parks. The girls and boys said the rides were still fun-I was not riding slides for obvious reasons. I took Asher to the zero entry pool and splashed around with him and then did the lazy river.

The atmosphere was fun and colorful and not too crowded except the lazy river where people pushed and shoved and teenagers were very obnoxious.

The food wasn't outrageously expensive.

The family restroom had a tiny potty that Asher wants for his "birfday."

They offer a four hour pass which was nice because it's not exactly an all day park.

It was easy to keep track of kids because of the smaller area of the park.

Drawbacks:

Entrance was a bit pricey for the amount of things we were able to do. I had to pay full price to be a spectator.

Like I mentioned before, the lazy river was very crowded and people pushed and shoved and kicked.

The pros far outweigh the cons which in our family means it is an activity worth repeating. We definitely had fun! And I definitely forgot my camera Argh!

Yes I did don a bathing suit in my current state and no it wasn't pretty-maybe it was okay that I forgot the camera. I did make many observations, though.

I was not the most pregnant woman there or if I was, I wasn't the biggest one. 

There are only a few people that should be allowed to wear bikinis. VERY few!

If a body part jiggles when you walk, do your best to cover it up. This is specifically aimed at those who chose to wear their bikini even though the belly was hanging over and jiggling with every step. 

I got quite a few looks-probably all warranted. Nobody wants to see someone that pregnant at a water park. I'm sure all the lifeguards were thinking "Please don't let her water break in the pool!"

I didn't mean to sit and pick everyone apart. I just really like to people watch and I saw a lot of interesting items today-including a shot of myself in the mirror :)