Anniversary.... by the numbers

9 years

8 plane trips

7 jobs

6 sharp little elbows poking every which way in our bed in the morning

5 years, 10 months as parents

4 addresses

3 degrees

2,000 mile move

1 love of my life

3 Months

Our baby boy, Reed Alexander, is 3 months old.

The past three months have quite possibly been the craziest three months of my adult life.... Birth of beautiful healthy baby son, entire family sick (repeat over and over), Reed sick with RSV, dealing with my Dad's illness from far away, Reed sick in the hospital with pneumonia (learning he may struggle with lung issues), and finally... the death of my Dad and a two week trip halfway across the country to attempt to say goodbye and be with our family.

There is no way I can touch all of that with a blog post.... or a hundred blog posts and I don't intend to try, although I do have a few things (including Reed's birth story) that I'd like to share.

Finally, I would like to give a sincere thank you to all of you who have given kind words, prayers, encouragement, meals, memorial gifts, open ears, time for our children and other acts of love over the past three months. It means more than you will ever know.

Reed's Birth Story. Part Two: 30 Minute Parking

As I was laying down resting on the couch resting, a monster of a contraction hit and I felt a distinct pop in my sacrum as the baby changed position. That "this means business" contraction didn’t let up for a good couple of minutes and it was agony. Things were about to abruptly switch gears. Jonathan knew instantly that things were a little more serious and we tried to make a quick exit. Jonathan called the doula again to let her know we were headed out the door. As we walked outside I had another "serious" contraction. I turned to Jonathan and said, “You know, if we get there and I’m only 4 centimeters I think I might just punch someone.” I was still worried that I might go in and not see much progress. In the driveway, another hard contraction hit and I looked at our van doubtfully. I did NOT want to get in. I knew that sitting strapped down to a seat during this kind of labor would be pure torture. I opened the rear sliding door and gave serious contemplation to crawling into the back on all fours. Finally, with a great amount of reluctance I opted to stick it out in the front seat. The contractions were extremely intense, but I was still able to joke in between them, send some texts and warn Jonathan not to speed (he did anyway.) We pulled into the hospital. Unfortunately, the only spaces left in the lot we had planned to use said “30 minute parking.” We decided to risk it.

We went to the door of the hospital and I was beyond irritated to discover that the door was locked and that we had to use an intercom to page someone to open it. Jonathan paged through the intercom letting them know we needed to get to L&D immediately. The security guard took his sweet time waltzing over to open the door and I may or may not have uttered some unkind words about his lack of urgency as I clung on to Jonathan through a contraction. The slow poke security guard offered us a wheelchair, but I had absolutely no desire to take any more contractions sitting down so I declined and we walked to the green elevator and up to the third floor. We got to the L&D desk and I told them my name, but had to pause and grip the counter for another contraction. Each contraction required all of my concentration. The desk nurse simply smiled and another nurse led us to our room. When we got there, the she cheerily introduced herself and said to us, "I’ll be doing your admission, but someone else will be your assigned nurse." She gave me a gown and told me to change and then she would get me on the fetal monitor for my "admission strip." Jonathan helped me into the gown and as a contraction hit I squeezed his hands and leaned on him. I was starting to feel a little panicky with each contraction. Classic sign of transition, and by now I was realizing that things were going to move quickly.

As soon as my gown was on, our doula arrived quietly into the room during a contraction. She knew instantly that I was in transition. Having been present for Juliana's birth she also knew that things were going to move fast. She waited until the contraction was over and then said softly, “Look at you! You are doing great. You are so close to having this baby.” I told her that I was having a very hard time keeping calm and another contraction hit. I hung onto Jonathan and she quietly reminded me that my body was doing exactly what it was supposed to and then told me, “30 more seconds. That’s all that’s left of this one. You can do that.” Her presence was reassuring. I tried to stay focused. I told myself could handle anything for 60... 45...30 seconds. The nurse came back in and asked me to get on to the bed for monitoring. I told her I couldn't possibly stand laying down flat on my back at this point. The force of the contractions were much too strong to just lay there. Carissa asked about monitoring in an alternate position. The nurse seemed a little tense and insisted she needed me to get on the bed. At that point in our little dilemma I uttered the magic words… “I feel pressure.” The tenseness in the nurses’ voice went up a notch. She asked what number baby this was for me. Carissa replied for me, "Three. The last one came FAST." That didn't seem to reassure this nurse that was really only supposed to be there to do the admitting process. She said, “I have to get the baby on the monitor and then I have to check you. If you are getting close to complete I need to call Karen (the midwife) right away.” In the very slow, even voice I generally reserve for naughty children I responded, “Maybe you should just call her [i]now[/i].” She continued on in her quest for her admission process, saying things like, “The sooner you get on the bed the sooner we’ll be done with the monitor.” I honestly didn't give a hoot about the monitor. I was thinking that she would probably be able to check the actual baby on the outside quite shortly. I asked if I she could monitor while I laid on my side (rather than on my back) and the nurse agreed. Through the side of the bed I clung to Jonathan’s hand for dear life and kept constant eye contact with him. Carissa reminded me again that this was what my body was supposed to be doing. It was good to have the reminder that the overwhelming intensity was normal. The nurse finally got the monitor on and I caught a few seconds of the comforting gallop of our baby boy’s heartbeat.

The nurse did a quick check and announced that I was “complete with an anterior lip.” My body started to push. In one contraction the water bag bulged. I thought that it was quite possible I would split in two. Another contraction. The nurse was standing by the computer monitor checking the tracing strip and hurriedly entering my admission information. After all, we had just barely arrived and she was really only supposed to be doing our admittance process. Our doula looked at the distracted nurse and announced that the baby's head was out, still encased in an intact amniotic sac. In a rather impressive motion, the nurse pushed the emergency call button as she turned around and caught the baby’s body on the next contraction. Three "pushing" contractions total. People flooded into the room. I was still holding Jonathan’s hands for dear life. I took a quick peek at the healthy pink crying baby on my stomach and then looked away. It was hard for me to grasp what had just happened. I needed a few moments to process. The intensity was overwhelming. Someone announced the time of birth, 5:21. Four hours previous I was asleep in my bed. 20 minutes previous I had arrived at the hospital entrance. Less than 10 minutes previous I had reluctantly crawled into the bed for “admittance monitoring”. We didn't even use the full 30 minutes on our parking spot. "Surreal" doesn't even begin to cover it. I still had a death grip on Jonathan’s hands and I tried to catch my breath. It took me a few minutes. Finally, I grabbed the baby. He looked so much like Juliana with his soft honey blonde fuzz and wrinkly forehead. I held him on my tummy and we waited for the cord to stop pulsing before cutting it. Sweet baby boy and I snuggled together skin to skin, both trying to adjust to the reality of his life on the outside. About an hour after he was born he was weighed, measured and then snuggled for a bit by his proud Daddy. For the third time... we fell in love with an exquisite and unique little person.

Reed Alexander

1.21.2011

7lbs 3oz

19.5"

Reed's Birth Story- Part One: Is it time to go yet?

Thursday January 20th was my due date. I was still feeling quite good, sleeping well and my only real "complaint" was that I had been having regular contractions off and on for several days. At times they were as close as 4 minutes apart for a few hours at a time, but I knew that third babies are notorious for false labor and made the decision to ignore them. I knew that the real thing would demand my attention.

I went to work on my due date and had contractions off and on at work. Mostly, I kept up with my policy of ignoring them, which wasn't difficult. I did notice that a few of them were starting to feel just the tiniest bit more “serious” than the contractions that I had been having. When I got home that evening I noted that the contractions were 10-15 minutes apart, not super regular and still just “uncomfortable.” Nothing notable. In previous evenings I had had contractions that were closer than that for a longer period of time that didn't yield a baby. Yet, something about them was just a bit different and I went ahead and told Jonathan that maybe this would be the night.

I went to bed at 10pm and slept well until 1am when I had a few contractions I just couldn’t sleep through. I got up and took a long hot shower, which felt great. It seemed that the contractions were still about 10-15 minutes apart, but more intense than they had been earlier. They all but melted away in the shower and I still wasn't convinced I was really in labor. After my shower Jonathan started to get nervous. He kept asking when we should call labor and delivery. I wanted to do most of my laboring at home and was feeling quite comfortable and in no rush at all. I told him that they would probably want my contractions to be a little closer together and more consistent. We decided to distract ourselves by watching "Modern Family" on Hulu. I sat on my yoga ball and occasionally got up to walk through the contractions.

At a little after 3am things picked up enough to sufficiently convince me I was in fact in labor and we would probably need to leave soon-ish. We called the friend that would be watching our girls and then we woke the girls up and told them that baby brother was on his way. They were so sweet and excited. We pulled coats on over jammies and I gave them kisses and hugs on their way out the door. I remember sitting and hugging Juliana at the bottom of the stairs for an extra long moment, knowing that this was my last time kissing her as my "baby". I knew how big she would seem after welcoming a tiny one. While Jonathan was gone with the girls I called our doula and then called L&D. The nurse asked me how far the contractions were apart and I told her they were still a little irregular, but for the most part they were about 2-6 minutes apart. She asked what number baby this was and I told her it was number three.

“Oh, so you know what you’re talking about then,” she said.

I laughed and replied, "Well, I hope I do!" The nurse must’ve thought I sounded like I was in pretty good spirits and she casually asked when I thought I would come in. I told her we would leave in maybe 20 minutes or so and it would take another 20 to 30 to get there. She said “Sure, we’ll be ready for you whenever you arrive.” Jonathan returned from dropping the girls off and drank coppius amounts of coffee in an effort to stay awake. I decided to lay down and try to rest for a few minutes before we left.

This lovely mugshot (and final belly photo) was taken at 4:01am. Baby Reed was born 1 hour and 20 minutes later...

Conversations in this Whisler Household

Juliana: I want to go to outer space!

Gabriella: You can't.

Juliana: Why not?

Gabriella: Because then I would have to go with you and I don't want to go to outer space.

Juliana: Alright. I won't go without you.

I love my compression hose... and other tidbits from the final month of pregnancy

I thought it might be time to do a little "Baby Boy Whisler" update. What? I hadn't actually even posted that the baby is a boy on the blog? Oh dear, I really am behind.

I'll be 37 weeks tomorrow. That means I am officially "full term" and the final countdown has begun. I have to admit though, I'm still having a hard time really imagining that very, very soon we will have three children! I'm trying to envision myself taking Gabriella to school wearing my pajamas and not brushing my teeth for a couple days at a time. I think its good to try to be mentally prepared for such things.

This is probably the easiest pregnancy I have had. Zofran helped me survive the first 18 weeks and although it wasn't super fun, I barely even lost weight this time. Since then, it has been pretty much smooth sailing. I move a little slower and I get tired a whole lot quicker, but for the most part I feel pretty good. I'm even sleeping great... which is a huge blessing for an extremely pregnant mama.

I do have one lovely little gift that this pregnancy has given me... varicose veins. I noticed my first little varicose vein at 23 weeks and since then, things on my right calf have just not been pretty. I finally broke down and bought some knee high compression socks a couple weeks ago. I was amazed at how much better my legs feel since I started wearing the compression socks. They pretty much eliminate all the achey, burning pain that I was having in my legs. It has also greatly improved how they look, giving me hope that I might still actually be able to wear shorts again someday.

The girls are both still extremely excited. They love to feel the baby bump and roll in my tummy. They ask questions about him all the time and are just so in awe of the whole process. Juliana often crawls in bed with us at about 6am for some morning snuggles. One morning she sleepily curled up around my tummy. The baby shifted positions and I wondered if Juliana would even notice it. Without opening her eyes she laid her hand right on the spot on my tummy where the baby had moved and patted it gently. Moments like that are amazing and priceless.

So much of the last month has been about preparing for Christmas. Now we need to get ready for this little guy. We've crossed off a few of our big to do list items in getting a mini van and in moving the girls into the same room. The move actually went much better than I thought it would. I thought Juliana would pester Gabriella to death because she tends to be a little bit harder to get to sleep, but most nights they do pretty well (although I won't say there is never any pestering.) Now we need to do all those little things... house cleaning, baby clothes washing, hospital bag packing, getting some final baby items, etc...

I'm trying to slow down and remember to enjoy these final weeks with this little guy on the inside. This will be my last pregnancy and I want to be sure to record little details as I can and savor little baby rolls and kicks... and maybe savor a little bit of that sleeping thing that I mentioned earlier.

Pumpkin Patch

Just a few favorite photos from our October trip to the pumpkin patch...