I don't usually beg my doctor to induce me with my pregnancies.
But....
There is a first time for everything.
At 39 weeks, Clint and I headed to the hospital to get checked in at 3 A.M. I didn't get much sleep that night because I kept going back and forth on whether or not I should cancel and wait till I went on my own or not. In the end, Clint talked me into keeping the appointment. I think he was just as ready for me to not be pregnant as I was.
They got us right in and by 3:30ish we were in the L&D room. Clint got right down to business while they got my IV in and prepped the room.
They started me on Pitocin at 4:30, when I was dilated to a 3. It took from 4:30 till 12:45 that afternoon to go from a 3 to a 6. I was beyond annoyed. I know this is normal, but since my labors are usually freakishly fast, I was so bugged. I realize this was because we were forcing my body into labor rather than letting it happen naturally, but I guess I was still hoping for it to go faster. At any rate, my contractions were fairly steady, every 2-3 minutes. Not painful but uncomfortable enough to keep me awake. I spent the majority of this time on a birthing ball and walking around. I really hate laboring lying down and being up and about really helped.
My mom showed up around 10 that morning and kept us entertained for a few hours. I am SO glad she was there for me again this time. Everything is better with your mom by your side.
My doctor came in around 12:45 to check me, and when he did, he broke my water. As usual, this really got things going. I really wish I was one of those chicks that could zone out and find their zen and just enjoy the birthing process. But I don't. I loathe every painful second of it. I went from a 6 to a 10 so fast. My contractions were right on top of each other and at that point when I tried to get out of bed, I couldn't. I could hardly move let alone stand up. I really tried to focus on my breathing, and found a crack in the wall that I kept my eyes on during the peaks. There were several moments toward the end when I remember saying, "why am I doing this AGAIN?"! If someone had said I could have a free epidural, I would have done it in a heart beat. I honestly felt like I was being ripped apart from the inside. Clint did such a good job keeping me focused. When I would start to hold my breath or moan or tear up, he would make me look at him and remind me to take a deep breath and would tell me that she was almost here and I was almost done. He kept reminding me of our other girls and how much they were going to love their new sister. He was handy to have around. :)
When I started feeling the need to push, they checked me and all was a go. I kept saying "I can't do it. I can't do it." over and over again. And then I couldn't not do it, and had to push. I felt her make her way out and wanted to take a breath so badly, but at the same time didn't want to waste any more time in getting her out, so I just pushed a little harder and she shot out. It was less than a minute from start to finish and they instantly laid her on my chest. It was 1:25 P.M. Aside from the pain, those first few moments with my babies are so precious to me. She was so perfect and beautiful and loud and I was instantly overcome with the kind of love that only a mother truly knows.
She was mine.
Forever.
These pictures are so special to me.
Clint has cried four times in our marriage. All at the births of our four sweet baby girls. I LOVE how tender he is with them and how fiercely he loves them.
Our little lady.
5 lbs 6 oz, our smallest of the four
19 1/2 inches long
1:25 P.M.
She gave us a scare at first with her right leg. It was so completely white from her hip to her toes. The nurses assured us that she would be fine and that it probably got lodged in a funny position inside me and wasn't getting enough circulation through it. After about thirty minutes, it slowly started to pink up.
Getting loved on by grandma and grandpa Young
First "bath"
After the shock of a new world, she started breathing super heavily. She made little wheezing noises each time she took a breath and after about 2 hours of this, the nurses decided she needed to spend some time in the nursery with oxygen. She ended up being there for about 6 hours and I didn't get to see or hold her until late that night. At one point, Clint went to check on her in the nursery and I was having all sorts of panic attacks about something happening to her while she was away from me. After about 10 minutes of his being gone, I heard a "code blue" page in the hallway and about started bawling. Thank heavens Clint came back soon after and assured me that she was fine. I blame it on the hormones.
Shari and Joe came down with the ladies that evening.
It went a little something like this:
We took turns letting them meet their new sister and although they all look totally bored in these, they were super excited.
Except Emery.
At this point, little Miss still didn't have a name. In fact, we had a hard time agreeing until about an hour before we checked out the following day. We both agreed on a few names but for some reason I was totally torn between two. Naming a kid is hard! We decided on Ivy Lee, and I LOVE it.
I have liked Ivy since the beginning of this pregnancy, but there is no significance to the name. All three of the other girls have middle names chosen after someone. Sage Michelle, after me. Charlotte Laree, after my mom. Emery Ellen, after Clint's mom. For little Ivy, we chose Lee, after Clint's little brother who passed away a very long time ago.
I think it is perfect, just like her.
