The Birth of Ruby Jennine Tanner

We are excited to announce the birth of Ruby Jennine Tanner! She was born February 21st at 8:29 pm. She weighed 7 lb 2 oz and was 20 inches long. Ruby is named after my great-grandmother, Ruby Snow, and my Grammy, Jenna Warthen, who were both very special women.

This might be my longest birth story yet! Here is a short version if that's what you prefer (I've included pictures in the long version):

My water broke around 11:30 pm on February 20th. We went to labor and delivery and I got started on pitocin since I wasn't in labor yet. In the afternoon the baby's heart rate dropped, but after several position changes and a shot of terbutaline to stop labor, her heart rate finally came back up. We started the pitocin again and after a while I was in real labor. It was starting to get quite painful, so around 6:45 pm I asked for an epidural. By the time the anesthesiologist arrived half an hour later, the baby's heart was dropping with each contraction and the amniotic fluid was getting thick and brown (a sign that the baby was in distress and had passed, and probably aspirated, meconium), and a couple of minutes after the epidural was in place my doctor came in and ordered an emergency c-section. The epidural took effect just in time for me to be awake for the baby's birth. I got a quick look at her before they took her to the NICU. She had aspirated meconium. She spent almost three days in the NICU on a CPAP machine and a feeding tube, but on February 24th she was moved to my room and the next day we went home together.

Long version:

The last weeks of pregnancy were increasingly stressful for me as the due date approached and then passed and at every appointment I learned that I still wasn't dilating at all. The doctor didn't want to go much farther than 41 weeks because the risks to the baby start increasing after that, so considering that the girls were two weeks late it was looking like I was facing an induction. I was pretty unhappy about that prospect, especially since my body didn't seem to be getting ready at all. My induction with Kevin started with zero progress and it took two days, then recovery was much harder than after my natural labors with the girls, so I didn't want a repeat of that experience.

On the 20th I came home from a doctor appointment and cried in the car for half an hour because I still wasn't dilated (this was three days after my adjusted due date/six days after the original/estimated due date). Then I went to pick up Ann Marie at preschool and when my friend asked how I was doing I started crying some more. My friends at preschool were really sweet to sit and talk with me for a while about it and reassure me that I wasn't being selfish.

I had really mixed feelings about what would be the best course of action. I didn't want to base my decision on blogs, which is what you tend to get in a Google search. A Facebook friend told me that there's a lot of good information on the National Institute of Health website, so I was able to look up a lot of good quality research on there that helped me get a sense of what the actual science says.

I managed to come up with something for dinner so that people were fed, then I made some chocolate cookies and ate four or five with no regrets, then switched to baby carrots.

Before the kids went to bed we had scripture study. We were reading in Ether 3 where the brother of Jared asks the Lord to touch the stones, and I was really struck by these verses:

4 And I know, O Lord, that thou hast all power, and can do whatsoever thou wilt for the benefit of man; therefore touch these stones, O Lord, with thy finger, and prepare them that they may shine forth in darkness; and they shall shine forth unto us in the vessels which we have prepared, that we may have light while we shall cross the sea.
5 Behold, O Lord, thou canst do this. We know that thou art able to show forth great power, which looks small unto the understanding of men...
9 And the Lord said unto him: Because of thy faith thou hast seen that I shall take upon me flesh and blood; and never has man come before me with such exceeding faith as thou hast; for were it not so ye could not have seen my finger.

I was really touched by these verses, and they led me to ponder for quite a while about prayer, faith, and asking God for things. Sometimes I really struggle praying for things if I don't know for sure it's God's will. I don't mind asking for help through a trial or for guidance, but I wasn't sure about praying to go into labor naturally. I didn't know if I had enough faith for it to happen if I did pray for it, and I wondered if it was selfish to pray for that if it wasn't what God had in mind.

Once the kids were in bed I spent some time talking to Ryan about it, and he shared some thoughts about the role that spirits in Spirit Paradise play in our lives and how they work with God to help us (which is why it's super important to do temple work for our ancestors).

I finally got on my knees and said a very sincere prayer telling Heavenly Father my feelings and asking that I could have my desires to go into labor naturally, and I said I had faith that he could bring this about. I don't really remember exactly what I said, but those were some of the things I prayed about.

I went and did some family history for a while and then I snuggled up to Ryan on the couch and watched some YouTube videos with him. It was around 11:30 and I was starting to think about going to bed. Then I felt a small gush of fluid. That was kind of weird, so I went to the bathroom to see what it looked like, and on the way there was an even bigger gush of fluid and my pants were all wet. When I sat on the toilet a ton of fluid rushed out into the toilet, and at this point it was pretty clear that my water had broken. I told Ryan what was going on and he said, "What did you say in that prayer?"

"I don't remember exactly! I just prayed that I could go into labor and not have to be induced or something!"

I had never really considered the possibility that it would happen like this, and I had no idea that when your water breaks you pretty much keep leaking or gushing amniotic fluid until the baby comes (with my other kids I asked them to break my water when I was almost pushing). I pretty much spent the next hour on the toilet because every time I got up stuff came out everywhere. Eventually I was able to get away with wearing a pad for the most part. I was so shocked that this had happened and I needed time to process it all enough to calm down and figure out what to do. I finally called labor and delivery, but for some reason the phone just kept ringing and nobody answered, so eventually I hung up, and I ended up falling asleep until morning. By that point I figured it would be easier to just get the kids off to school and then call my doctor, so that's what we did. I found a friend who agreed to take Ann Marie and then we worked on getting final things ready to go to the hospital.

Ryan gave me a blessing before we left, and in the blessing he assured me that God knew my worries and fears and that He wanted me to know that angels would be ministering to me. It was a very special blessing and gave me a lot of comfort. I wasn't really having contractions, so I figured we were probably looking at induction once we got to the hospital, but for some reason I felt like it was going to be okay and I was in good hands.

We got to triage around 10 am and did all the checking in stuff. The nurse said I was dilated about 1 1/2 cm, so I knew we had a long ways to go, but at least it was something. Dr. Hatch came by briefly to talk about the plan. We had to wait a while to go to labor and delivery, but I was starting to have mild contractions, so we were hoping that with a little bit of pitocin things would get going. There was a bit of a deadline since they don't like to go past 24 hours once your water has broken.

I was finally started on pitocin around 12, and it didn't take long before I was settling into a regular pattern. We started at a low dose and they were gradually increasing it. Ryan needed lunch, so I told him this would be a good time before it got too painful. I was having to breathe through the contractions, but it didn't feel like real labor yet. I had downloaded a playlist of my favorite songs onto my phone (which was one of my better ideas--I highly recommend it), so I listened to that and tried to focus my mind on making the contractions effective.

After a while the nurse came in and said I needed to turn over on my side because the baby's heart rate was decelerating. We tried several position changes, but her heart rate wasn't coming up. Before I knew it there were about five nurses in the room making calls and helping me try different positions. My nurse had me put on an oxygen mask for the baby to get more oxygen. They turned the pitocin off completely and gave me a shot of terbutaline to relax my uterus. I think it took a while for me to realize just how serious this was, but when I did I started to cry and pray. Then I felt very strongly that my Grammy was there beside my bed and she was reassuring and helping us. It took a long time, but we finally settled on me being on my right side, and her heart rate started looking better. I remember lying there on my side with tears still on my face and feeling/hearing the words, "You are in the right place." The nurses were all really amazing in the way they helped me through this.

Once things calmed down a little I texted Ryan to let him know what was going on. When he got back I was still wearing the oxygen mask. At some point the nurse also checked my cervix and said I was about 4 cm. Dr. Hatch came in and took a look at the printouts. He said probably what happened was the baby grabbed the cord or the cord got compressed somehow, and since my water had broken there wasn't that cushion there. He said if it happened again we'd do a C-section, but he thought it most likely wouldn't happen again.

We waited a while for the terbutaline to wear off, and the baby was still looking good on the monitors, so the nurse started the pitocin again (back at the lowest dose). By this point it was around 4:00, so I was getting a little worried about running out of time. The nurse said I had a really good doctor because Dr. Hatch doesn't like to do c-sections for no reason, so I didn't need to worry that he'd insist on a C-section at 6:00 just because he wanted to go home.

I started having mild contractions, although it took a while for them to get regular. We kept watching the monitor and commenting on the wimpy ones. It felt like if I concentrated on them I could help them be stronger. The nurse suggested the birth ball, and that worked well for me. It seemed like the contractions started to pick up once I made that switch, which is what I wanted. I was having to moan deeply to make it through, and they were getting pretty painful, so I knew I was in real labor now.

Dr. Hatch came in and did a cervix check at some point, and I said I didn't even want to know. He just said I had a ways to go, but the baby was still doing okay. I got back on the birth ball and saw on the computer that he had put that I was 2-3 cm, 90% effaced, so that was really discouraging, although the nurse said since I had thinned that much I would probably progress faster.

I labored some more. It seemed like standing up or being on the ball was helping things progress better, so I stuck with that for quite a while. I was starting to get really tired and I didn't think I was going to be able to make it without some pain relief. So I was thinking about getting an epidural. I looked at the clock and saw that it was 6:30, so I decided I would hang in there till 7 and then reevaluate. At 6:40 when Ryan asked how I was doing I told him my plan, and the nurse said she thought that was a good approach. She was really supportive of my birth plan the entire time. Then after a couple more contractions she said it might be good to keep in mind that it can take the anesthesiologist a while to come sometimes if they've gone home. I thought about it for a while and I had this really strong feeling that I should have them call the anesthesiologist now.

The nurse got that process going and confirmed that it was going to be about a half hour before the anesthesiologist could get there. She had to leave, so she was briefing the new nurse on the situation. I was having a harder and harder time getting through the contractions, and I was also watching the monitor and starting to feel uneasy because the baby was having heart decels again. They weren't as bad as before yet, but I was feeling really glad I had asked for the epidural because in case something happened I could be awake for a C-section.

By the time the anesthesiologist got there we were back to position changes on the bed and using the oxygen mask. I was making a lot of noise. The nurse was telling me what to expect while getting the epidural and doing her best to keep the monitor on the baby's heart beat. We had to wait for the heart rate to start looking better before the anesthesiologist could start.

Ryan went out of the room (husbands aren't allowed during the procedure and he can't stand needles anyway). I sat on the side of the bed bent over a pillow while Dr. Jones put everything in. It wasn't too bad of a procedure. I think he did brush up against a nerve a couple of times, which was painful and weird.

I had to get through a couple of contractions while he was working. The nurse was in front of me trying to coach me through it and keep the heart monitor on the baby, and she asked if the baby had a name yet. I felt angels in the room again, and suddenly I knew so strongly what her name was that I almost said it out loud: Ruby! Then another contraction hit, and I was moaning and pushing my face into the oxygen mask, but my eyes were filled with tears because I knew the baby should be named Ruby, and I was so grateful to know that angels were there in the room helping us.

Finally everything was in place, and Dr. Jones said I could expect to start feeling the epidural in about six minutes, but it wouldn't really take effect for about fifteen minutes. It seemed like too much to have to handle several more contractions like this before getting relief, but I said, "I can do a lot of things for fifteen minutes." Dr. Jones said I did a really good job and I had made his job really easy. Apparently a lot of moms wiggle around quite a bit.

They helped me move to my back, and the nurse called Dr. Hatch and asked if he had seen the monitors. The baby's heart rate was decelerating with each contraction. A few minutes later Dr. Hatch came in and said, "We've got to get this baby out." He took a look at the printout from the monitor and checked my cervix. I looked down and when his hand came out it was covered in brown amniotic fluid (bad). "I'm sorry, Marcelaine, but we've got to do a C-section. You're only dilated to a five and the baby's in distress." I said I understood. Honestly I wasn't surprised. So Dr. Hatch said, "Okay, I'm ordering an emergency C-section, stat." Everyone started moving really quickly after that. I was still moaning and in a lot of pain, but my legs were starting to feel weird, so I was hopeful that the epidural would take effect in time.

There's actually a lot that has to happen to get ready for a C-section, and I didn't even really follow most of what was going on. Dr. Jones was back in making adjustments to the medicine in the epidural to make it go a little higher on my torso, so he was explaining that to me, and several nurses were in there doing other stuff. Dr. Jones was also telling Ryan what to expect and giving him instructions for getting dressed for the operating room.

Then people were wheeling out the bed and in a minute we were in the operating room. New people were introducing themselves to me and they moved me over to the operating table. Dr. Jones and another anesthesiologist were poking my belly and my arm to get a sense of how well the epidural was working. It must have been the Holy Ghost telling me to go ahead with the epidural because it took effect just in time, so I was awake for the entire procedure.

Dr. Hatch came in and got started, and once he had made the first cut they let Ryan come in. I was shaking like crazy. The other anesthesiologist was there by my head the entire time talking me through what was going on and making sure the pain meds were working.

I don't think Dr. Hatch was happy that this was ending in a C-section, but once things got started he became super focused and worked fast. There was a lot of pulling and tugging. It felt unreal; there's really nothing else like it. It wasn't really painful, but I still felt everything, and it was super intense. For some reason I was actually kind of glad I was able to experience so much of it. It was good to feel like I was present. I was getting really nervous about the baby and I kept praying that she would come in time and be okay. I could feel that my Grammy was there with me.

Finally someone said he was pulling her head out and pretty soon I could feel her coming out. I think she cried a little bit, but not a ton. A woman briefly brought Ruby behind the screen (still covered in blood and all sorts of other stuff) and said she was going to be okay, but then they hurried to take her away to work on her. As we expected, Ruby had aspirated meconium from the amniotic fluid, and I could hear them suctioning all of that from her lungs. At some point Ryan went over to see her and was able to take some pictures.

It took a lot more time to get me sewed up than it did to get the baby out, so my adventure was just beginning. The anesthesiologist stayed right there with me and coached me through it all. Like I said, it wasn't really painful, but it was all super intense. I was starting to feel really panicky because I was shaking so bad, and I asked the anesthesiologist if he could just hold my hand because I needed some deep pressure. Instead he offered to go get my husband. So Ryan came back and squeezed my hand for the rest of the time, which helped me a lot.

Through this entire thing I remember feeling very aware that this was going to be a defining moment for me and I needed to be vocal about what I needed in order to reduce the trauma as much as possible (this is not to say that people who are traumatized by c-sections should have stood up for themselves, but I will say that I'm grateful for the inspiration and guidance I received, as well as the experiences some of my friends have shared in the past, that helped me have the presence of mind to be able to ask for what I needed). For the most part I actually have really positive feelings about how everything happened. All of the medical personnel handled the situation really well and took really good care of Ruby and me, and I truly believe that I had the ministering of angels just as I was promised in the priesthood blessing. I think 95% of my birth plan went out the window. Thinking back on the labor, I think a natural delivery just wasn't going to happen this time. We're not sure why Ruby wasn't tolerating labor (probably the cord was getting compressed), but I don't think it could have been done any differently and still resulted in a healthy, living baby. I remember all those doctor appointments where I still wasn't dilating, and now I think this must have been the reason. If Ruby had been descending into my pelvis earlier I don't think she would have been doing well in there.

I was pretty much stitched up, and I asked if I could see the baby again. They said they would bring her over, but to my disappointment they just wheeled the little bed over enough that I could kind of see that there was an infant inside, and they said, "Here she is, and she's going to be fine, but we have to take her to the NICU now to get her stabilized." So that brief glimpse right after she came out was really all I got until the next day.

They moved me back onto a bed and wheeled me to a recovery area. I'm not sure where Ryan went. The nurse was really nice. I was kind of in shock trying to process what had just happened, and I didn't stop shaking for about three hours, and the shaking made me feel really panicky. I did get a couple of doses of Demerol, which helped a little. They also put things on my legs that would compress my legs to prevent blood clots, and that deep pressure actually helped a lot too with the shaking. Still, it was really unnerving to be shaking uncontrollably like that.

Eventually they moved me to the room where I stayed the rest of the time we were in the hospital. Ryan was there and we both went to sleep. In the morning nurses and other people came in to do things. Dr. Hatch came by and when he asked how I was doing I said jokingly, "Well, I have a tummy ache; do you know why that might be?" I got out of bed for the first time with the help of two nurses. It was rough, but I did okay and I got a shower, which helped me feel human again. I gradually figured out how to use my legs and pull on the bed rails to get out of bed.

The view from lying on my back in bed (after the first couple of times I was able to get out by myself):

We had some amazing friends who had watched our kids the day before and then let them stay overnight at their houses. I was so grateful. Ryan left to go get Ann Marie and meet Kevin and Heidi after school.

Ann Marie says she put the blanket over her head because she was sad that it was Dad picking her up and not me.

Heidi wasn't happy to hear that I wasn't coming home either.

Breakfast was chicken broth and Jell-O. At lunch I graduated to cream of potato soup and Jell-O. I think I was on the liquid diet until Friday evening.

I mostly had to take things fifteen minutes at a time. Just getting to the bathroom was very tiring that first day. A lactation consultant came in and she showed me how to use the hospital grade breast pump and we talked about the pumping schedule. I tried to pump every three hours. I actually was producing a lot of colostrum. They had given me little syringes to save the milk for Ruby, and I ended up using bottles instead because often I was getting 10 mL from one pumping session. I was proud that at least something was working right, although a Medela Symphony doesn't exactly induce the same happy feelings you'd get from holding a new baby. So at any given time I had to think about what the next priority was: get to the bathroom, pump, eat, sleep, etc.

Finally in the evening I got to go see Ruby in the NICU. The nurse took me down in a wheelchair. Just to be clear, it's not that I wasn't "allowed" to see her earlier, it's just that until then I wasn't recovered enough to make it over there. It felt so weird that almost a day after her birth I was just seeing her for the first time, but it really took that long for me to be physically able to go to the NICU. Ruby was on a CPAP machine and had a feeding tube. There were some other monitors and she had an IV through her umbilical cord. I wasn't able to hold her, but it was okay to touch her. When they brought me in I was so surprised at how much hair she had! She was so beautiful, and it was so great to finally see her, although it was hard not to be able to hold her. I think because of the initial separation it took a while for it to register that I wasn't pregnant anymore. I probably stayed too long, but I wanted as much time as I could get with Ruby. When my nurse took me back to my room she said I looked exhausted, and I was surprised at how much just that trip to the NICU took out of me. I think I had to take some extra pain medication, and I had to rest a lot.

In the morning I was feeling a lot better. I walked up and down the hall once and I was feeling pretty proud of myself. After that I rested really well and then walked to the NICU. I had learned my lesson from the night before, so I just stayed for a few minutes and then walked back. That was a lot of work!

In the afternoon Ryan and Ann Marie came to see me for a little while. Ann Marie was pretty upset because I was in the hospital and everything was different, and she was also sad that she couldn't see the baby. I read some books to her while Ryan went to see Ruby for a few minutes. Then we called Ryan's parents and they started talking about coming down to help us. It was a big relief to me to know they were coming because I was struggling just to take care of myself. Ann Marie cried pretty hard when they left. I really hadn't thought to prepare the kids for the possibility that it would be like this when the baby came. I had just expected it would be like my other deliveries and I'd be home after a day. Apparently Heidi had gotten upset at school as well--her teacher is really fantastic and took the time to comfort her.

Ryan sent me this picture of Ann Marie at Costco after they left, with the caption, "It's nice to know that least one of our kid's affection can be easily bought. #someoneisnotsadanymore #itsallaboutperspective"

In the evening I walked to the NICU again, and this time I finally got to hold Ruby! So exciting! I was so happy. I did a video call with Ryan, and Kevin and Heidi were excited to get to see Ruby (Ann Marie was asleep). Ruby was doing well and making progress. The goal was for her to get off the CPAP machine completely, and then she needed to be able to eat by mouth either by breastfeeding or bottle to get out of the NICU.

I had wondered how well I would be able to bond with Ruby since we were separated so much for the first few days and she had other people taking care of her and talking to her. But while I was holding Ruby that night I said something to her after she yawned or something, and when she heard my voice Ruby instantly turned her head towards the sound, and there was a look of recognition on her face. I realized that even though we hadn't spent the last couple of days together, she had been hearing my voice in utero for several months and it was very familiar to her. So that was comforting.

The next worry was that they were thinking of discharging me the next day, but Ruby wasn't going to be ready by then. So if I got discharged I would have to choose between boarding at the hospital (basically you can stay in one of their rooms, but nobody brings you your meals or comes to take care of you) or going home. The first option would have been hard because I would be on my own, but the second option would also be hard because I wouldn't be able to go see Ruby very much. I was getting really upset about it.

On top of all that worry, the dining people completely forgot to bring me dinner, and when I asked about it I found out they had already closed up. They did get me a turkey sandwich on airbread and a bag of pretzels, so I was okay, but for some reason that was enough to throw me over the edge, and I did a lot of crying. I was so frustrated that I couldn't even take care of myself and I couldn't get down very often to see my own baby, and I felt like I was being thrown to the wolves with the prospect of being discharged the next day. And then on top of it all the dining service just forgot about me.

My nurse walked in on me crying and was very sweet to stay and talk to me about it. I don't know if she really grasped what I was feeling, but I was still grateful that she cared. She suggested that I could get some good rest and then she would take me down to the NICU in a wheelchair (so I wouldn't be so tired) and I could stay as long as I wanted. It's easier to stay at the NICU for a long time at night because there aren't all the scheduled shift changes and doctors visiting.

I took some time to call my parents (I had been wanting to for a while but hadn't had a chance), and talking it through with them really helped me out.

After a good rest I went down to the NICU and was able to stay for a long time, which was great. Ruby was finally off the CPAP machine and just had the feeding tube left, so that was really exciting.

In the morning I went down to the NICU again and there was great news! They had taken out the feeding tube and as long as she could tolerate eating by mouth they were planning to discharge her to the nursery that afternoon! I actually saw Dr. Hatch there (he had been stopping to check in on Ruby each morning before coming to see me), and he asked them to make sure my insurance would cover me staying one more day so Ruby and I could be discharged at the same time. So that was a huge relief for me.

I stayed for a while in the NICU and gave her a bottle. I think the goal was for her to take 30 mL, which she did easily, so that was a good sign.

The nurse said to come back around noon and I could try breastfeeding her then. She nursed really well on one side and then fell asleep. The nurse said the plan was to discharge Ruby to the regular nursery at three o'clock and after the nursery did some basic checks they would bring her to my room.

So around 4:00 my nurse brought Ruby in! It was so exciting, although it took a while for it to register that I was finally a regular mom rooming in with her baby. For a while I just sat and watched her without picking her up.

I think for me that evening and the next day were more like what's normally the first day. I had to start figuring out how Ruby likes to be soothed and work on establishing breastfeeding. The plan was to breastfeed her first and then supplement with my pumped milk (I had about 30 mL saved) afterwards so her blood sugar would stay up, but I only ended up doing that once because she was always plenty satisfied after breastfeeding and wouldn't take any more. I feel really fortunate that at least breastfeeding started off well despite us being separated so long at the beginning.

As much as I wished I could have held Ruby right away and had her rooming in with me, I must admit that having her in the NICU probably helped me a lot with recovery those first few days. I was able to focus on my own physical needs and get a lot of rest. I could barely get out of bed those first couple of days, so I'm sure it would have been a huge challenge to also go pick up a baby and take care of her.

The next day was Sunday, and we were working on getting ready to be discharged. Ryan's parents arrived and went to church with Ryan and the kids. Both of our doctors came and gave us the okay to be discharged. Ruby had to have her bilirubin levels tested one more time, and I had to have my staples taken out and replaced with steri strips (which wasn't nearly as bad as I thought it would be). Then the nurse gave the discharge instructions and Ryan showed up in the middle of those. That was actually the first time he got to hold her. We finally left around 1:00. It was so good to be outside again, and the temperature was perfect.

Ryan holding Ruby for the first time:

Dressed and happy to finally be going home:

One of the best pieces of advice I received was from a friend who said to be gentle with myself while processing everything that had happened. After my miscarriage last year I learned that it's really important to process negative emotions instead of resisting them, so I was grateful for the reminder and I've been taking it to heart. Right now I feel like the most traumatic part was recovering and being separated from Ruby so much, especially when I thought I was going to have to go home without her. I feel a lot of grief that I didn't get to hold her right after she was born. Even though I knew she needed medical care, it was super disappointing when they took her away and all I got was a quick glimpse of her.

#gratefulformybodyNOV

My friend at Biceps After Babies recently wrote a post with this hashtag asking followers to comment with one thing they love about their body.

I've been thinking about it since then trying to figure out what I love about my body. It was interesting because I do love my body and generally have pretty positive feelings about it, but every time I thought of something I love my critical side added a, "Yeah, but..."

I have pretty healthy skin. "Yeah, but right now you keep breaking out."

I have nice eyes. "Yeah, but you have to wear contacts."

My brain works great. "Your brain has been tired and slow ever since you had kids."

My body has made some adorable, healthy babies. "Yeah, but you know that first trimester depression you always get? And how about the miscarriage you had last March? And your belly button is doing that weird folding at the top thing." (I know about the belly button thing, critical side, and nobody cares.)

I haven't really been able to think of any part of my body that has served me perfectly. Maybe my kidneys or my appendix? But you know, that's not the point. I honestly believe that our bodies are a gift from our Heavenly Father, and He gave them to us to help us learn and become what He wants us to be. I think our spirits in the premortal life had about reached their limit of development and we needed bodies so we could continue to progress. And we shouted for joy at the chance to be given these bodies with all their flaws. The flaws are all part of the learning process too. My body does exactly what it's supposed to. It functions really well and it makes it so I can live and learn so many things that will help me return to Heavenly Father.

My body doesn't have to be perfect for me to love it.

So here are some things about my body that I love:

My eyes: Yes, I have to wear contacts, but only if I drive, because otherwise I don't notice the difference. My eyes see the entire spectrum of colors, easily read words on a page or notes in a piece of music, and adjust to the amount of light that is reaching them. And they're a great color too.

My hands: They've seen me through nearly 25 years of playing the piano, changed hundreds of diapers, turned thousands of pages, carried my babies, and made a lot of awesome bread and cookies.

My brain: I'm convinced that with enough work this brain can learn anything I want it to. My brain got me through Calc 3, geochemistry, War and Peace, and a senior thesis. My brain is flexible. It looks for the truth and tries to understand things through other perspectives. My brain sends and receives messages from my entire body and processes most of it effortlessly so I can focus on living life without being distracted by the hum of the refrigerator or having to consciously think about the movement of each individual finger to pick something up.

My immune system: I'm possibly developing a cold right now, and as icky as that is, my body is fighting it. How awesome is it that our bodies can heal? I've had my share of cuts and burns, and I can't see or feel any of them anymore because they've all healed. I even had a pretty bad broken bone when I was eleven, and you can't even tell anymore!

And right now my body is doing a great job at growing another little body.

Sad News

I have to admit that after my mom broke her shoulder, my dad got cellulitis, and my sister had her baby early (and the baby had to go to the NICU for a while), I was kind of wondering what was going to happen to me.

On February 21st I decided to take a pregnancy test and got a positive result. So that was exciting. I shared the news with Ryan that evening before we went to a meeting with the stake president, where we found out that Ryan was being called to be the new Elders Quorum president. So it was an exciting day with some big changes.

Three days later, on Friday the 24th, I started having some light spotting. I debated most of the day about calling the doctor or not, but finally in the evening I was worried enough that I called him. He said it wasn't necessarily a sign of a miscarriage, but it could be, and if it was a miscarriage there isn't really anything they can do to stop it. So he said I could go about life normally and come in the next Monday morning to see him, and said to let him know if I started bleeding more heavily. It was about what I expected to hear, but it was reassuring to at least touch base with him.

The bleeding got a little heavier on Saturday but had slowed down by Monday morning. Throughout the weekend, even though I was nervous, I was also blessed with a spirit of peace and I felt my Heavenly Father would take care of me.

On Monday the doctor did an ultrasound and he said it appeared that a gestational sac had formed, but there was no sign of a baby. So it looked like I was having a miscarriage. He said he'd like to double-check the next Monday, so he asked me to make an appointment and if it was the same he would do a D and C that day.

I guess I wasn't that surprised. I sort of had a feeling this was coming, but at the same time until the ultrasound there was still hope that the bleeding didn't mean anything.

Ann Marie and I stopped at Ryan's office to tell him what was going on. It just so happened that Ryan's parents were already coming to visit us the next week, so we thought we'd ask them to come on Sunday instead of Monday so they could help us out while I recovered.

At first I didn't feel a lot of grief. I was telling myself that there just wasn't ever a baby and there was no reason to be sad. But when we got home I turned on Pandora and the first song that played was Rob Gardner's Irene (Your Baby Was Here), and I remembered a dream I had earlier in the month. By the time I had awakened from the dream I couldn't remember much of it, but in the dream there was a baby and somebody was saying, "This was your baby. This baby was meant to be in your family." So I knew that there had been a spirit here.

The dream left me really confused. I pondered and prayed, wondering what was going to happen to the spirit that had been here, and what I felt was that this spirit was going to get a different body. I wanted to know if this spirit was going to come back to our family or somebody else's family, and I wasn't getting an answer, so that bothered me a lot. I knew that Heavenly Father would take care of the child, but I didn't like the idea of somebody else getting my child. For three days that was my baby, so I wanted to know that he or she would be able to go to a good family and have a good life.

I always swore if I ever had a miscarriage I would be open about it and not feel like I couldn't talk about it. But real life is different and the reality was that it was hard to tell people. I wasn't even sure if I wanted to tell my parents because they're still recovering from their own injuries and I didn't want them to have to worry (I did end up telling them). At church the day before my doctor appointment it felt like there was never the right time to tell anyone. Another primary teacher and I were waiting outside the bathrooms while our classes were using the bathrooms, and she wished me a happy birthday and we joked about what a great birthday present it would be to have a whole day to myself, and it felt so dishonest to not tell her I was probably going to be recovering from a D and C on my birthday, but I couldn't tell her with all of these kids running around us.

After church I had a meeting with the Relief Society president to talk about visiting teaching, and I decided I was going to tell her. There really is never an opportune time to tell someone you're having a miscarriage. It doesn't exactly come up in conversations. So we were sitting there talking about visiting teaching and how my visiting teaching sisters are doing and when the meeting seemed to be winding down I realized there wasn't going to be an easy time to say it, so I just said, "Just so you know, I'm having a miscarriage," and I started crying. It was kind of a surprise because I actually hadn't cried about it at all the entire week. Her response was so kind and it was such a comfort to talk to her about it, so I was really glad I told her. She actually told her secretary what was going on too, and her secretary reached out and offered to help in any way because she had had a miscarriage too and wanted to help me through it. I had also told my visiting teacher what was going on, so now I had a few people who were aware.

Ryan's parents came late Sunday night, and in the morning they helped get the kids on the bus and they watched Ann Marie so Ryan could take me to the doctor. I didn't eat because I was fully expecting to be under general anesthesia having my uterus scraped, and by this point I was really nervous about the procedure.

The doctor did another ultrasound, and he said there was no sign of the tissue that had been there the week before. It looked like a non-pregnant uterus. So he said I must have passed all the tissue and there was no need for a D and C. They did take a blood sample to test my hormone levels (which have gone back to normal), but then we left to go home.

It was a huge relief that I didn't need a D and C. I was expecting to be on bed rest for my birthday. I was very grateful.

Ryan's family gave me a pretty pot of red and white geraniums, which was so sweet and thoughtful. They look so bright and happy on the deck.

Ryan and I were talking about the baby, and he said he had had an impression that Heavenly Father wants us to know He is taking care of the spirit, but it's uncertain yet where the spirit is going to be sent. So I guess that's why I wasn't getting an answer, because there isn't one yet. I still hope that the baby will come back to our family.

I've had my ups and downs since then. It's been about a month. It was nice to have Ryan's parents here because we had things to do and I wasn't lonely. Honestly I felt a little guilty that I wasn't that upset. The next week was when the grief really hit, and I had a hard week. If I wasn't sad I felt sort of empty. I didn't know what to do with myself. I found out that another mom in the ward was expecting a baby and her due date was the same month as mine would have been, so that was kind of sad. Seeing new babies or finding out someone is pregnant gives me a pang of sadness because it's a reminder of what could have been. It feels like it's going to be so long before we have another baby.

Things have gotten better in the past couple of weeks. It's getting warmer and I'm spending more time outside, and I'm trying to spend more time on the most important things like my family and service, which helps.

Through this entire time I've been blessed with a feeling of calm and peace. A few weeks before the miscarriage I had a strong impression at the temple that I needed to be immersing myself in the scriptures, and I think that following that prompting has really helped me through this. I don't want to give people the impression that I'm just fine and I'm over it, but I'm getting better and I'm grateful for the peace I've felt as well as the tender mercies that I've experienced this month.

It's a . . .

. . . baby. A human baby.

Ryan knows the gender, but I wanted to wait until the baby is born to find out, so you'll have to wait too. Kind of anticlimactic for you, but oh well.

As a side note, I was curious to see how moms felt who had decided to wait until the baby came to find out the gender, so googled it and read through some of the forums. Interestingly, one of the common comments was that as an adult there are so few surprises, so they figured they should take advantage of one of the few opportunities to be surprised and wait to find out until the baby came. That made me laugh because these parents haven't figured out yet just how many surprises you get to experience when you have kids.

Everything looked normal and healthy for the ultrasound, which is always a relief to hear. The baby is about 14 oz. When they looked at the heart, the ultrasound technician got excited and said, "That is a beautiful heart. It's a treat to see a heart like that." Also, it appears that we may have another little thumb-sucker.

Here are some pictures.

In this one you can see the baby's leg on the right. Baby was moving a lot. Maybe showing off.

Did I mention the baby was moving a lot? This is a profile and it's blurry because of how fast the baby was moving.

Foot.

It won't be like this for long.

We heard this song on the radio today, and it seemed kind of appropriate, considering the state of things. I mean, at the longest it should be less than a week before we have a baby, but at the same time it feels like it's never going to be over. I figure she must be finishing up an extra credit project in a graduate level course on Life On Earth, and then she'll be ready. I've felt all along that she's really excited to begin her mortal life, but I wonder if she's nervous too.

I bought "fat free half and half" the other day. I'm not kidding, even though it sounds like an oxymoron. I looked it up and apparently they add other stuff to it to make it thicker even though it's actually skim milk. The only reason I bought it was because I had a coupon that made it very cheap.

It's hot. It doesn't seem fair. It seems like just about everywhere you have long winters, long summers, and then at the most two weeks of spring and two weeks of fall. And I don't even get to enjoy those weeks because they happen during school. I love being outside, but I hate coming home so sweaty and smelly that I can barely move.

I'm pretty sure I've become an oven. A couple of days ago I was feeling quite hot, and I asked Ryan if he thought it was hot and he said, "I'm freezing." He's added an extra blanket to his side of the bed (besides the extra one folded in half that was already there--he has that one all the time).

I had to laugh when I was reading through Baby Girl's car seat manual and it talked about using the cup holders. The instructions say to only use paper or styrofoam cups, because hard cups can cause injuries if they go flying and hit someone in a crash. Now, I never give Kevin food or drinks in the car because I'm pretty sure he can go without food for the fifteen minutes it takes to get to the grocery store, so it doesn't really matter to me. But I don't think there are many parents who would let their child have a paper or styrofoam cup in the car--that's just asking for a huge mess. So if you can't use a sippy cup because it's too hard and could hit someone, and you can't use paper or styrofoam because they're messy, why bother having cupholders on a car seat? (Apparently Kevin agreed because he found the removable cupholder and threw it behind the piano--I haven't bothered to fish it out.)

I think Breyer's is getting the right idea with their Mint Fudge Brownie ice cream, although the brownie pieces could use some work. But it's better than most brands of mint ice cream that have bits of black plastic that are supposed to be chocolate chips.

A couple of days ago at my appointment with a midwife, she was feeling for the position of the baby and said, "Here's her face." When I expressed my surprise that she could tell it was her face, she said, "Yep, I accidentally bonked her nose." Pretty cool.

6 (ish) months pregnant

I finally figured out the timer on the camera and found a place to prop it up so I could take a picture of myself.  Then the stars had to align so that there was a day when I had actually fixed my hair (when I don't have time I just braid it) and had time to actually take the picture. Yesterday it happened. So here is what I look like, about three months away from Baby Girl's arrival. You're welcome, Michelle. I do rather like my little baby bump, although I'm feeling a little impatient for June to come so I can finally meet our little one.

If you click on the "tummy" label you can compare my sizes from this pregnancy and my last pregnancy.

random musings

I love and hate making bread. I like the feeling of mixing and kneading bread because it seems so productive and motherly and homey, and I like the yeasty doughy smell. But at the same time I really hate mixing and kneading because if you don't have the right amount of flour it's really annoying. If I don't have enough flour I add some and knead some more, of course, and just as I start feeling like maybe this time I have just the right amount and it's mixed pretty homogenously, the dough starts feeling incredibly sticky again and it gets all over my hands and the counter and I have to start all over again. But if I have dough that has just the right amount of flour, where it's smooth and sticking to the counter slightly but not so much that I can't even work with it, I just love the feeling of kneading it.

I still haven't figured out why my bread seems to always taste sour and fermented. I was reading some things online and it sounds like rising too fast or too long can cause this. So maybe I need to experiment with adding less yeast than the recipe calls for or not letting it rise as long. Ryan doesn't notice it and doesn't even know what I'm talking about when I complain about it. Ever since I was pregnant with Kevin, my taste buds have been a lot more sensitive. I wonder if food will ever taste normal again.

When you buy something new and you are going to write a review for it, in general it is a good practice to wait until after you have used the item for a while before writing the review. In other words, don't buy a new crib and set it up, and then write a review saying how cute the crib is and you can't wait to see how your baby likes it when he arrives in two months (although this might work for reviewing decorations). What people want to know is how the products works over a period of time, not how it looks out of the box. Also, a review of a product is not the place to talk about how fast the item was shipped to you; it's the place to talk about the actual product. Just a little pet peeve of mine.

I really like the ruched maternity tops. They have elastic sewn into the side seams, and for some reason that makes a really flattering fit. I also mostly like the secret fit belly jeans by Motherhood Maternity. Before I had ever been pregnant, I had this strange misconception that low elastic panels were cool and high ones were nerdy and old-fashioned. Then I actually tried both while pregnant and I realized that it's a matter of functionality, not style. I realized that low panels hurt my tummy. The secret fit belly would be about as nerdy and old-fashioned as it gets according to my old standards because they go really high. But I like them because my pants actually stay up pretty well, unlike the cheap JC Penny jeans I bought when I was pregnant with Kevin. The only thing I don't like is that since the panel covers my entire tummy it can get pretty hot, but then I can fold the panel down and I don't have to experience major abdominal pain because the panel material is light and doesn't squeeze so hard. Now, the sales people always play up the secret fit belly pants. Every single time I've gone to Destination Maternity they've told me that I've got to try a pair on even if I'm not planning to buy jeans because the secret fit belly is so amazingly comfortable. The way they talked, I thought I was supposed to try these things on and instantly feel my tummy settling into a world of bliss and rainbows and weightless joy or something. Yes, they are comfortable, but I still feel the weight of pregnancy pretty keenly down there.

I am pleased to report that Baby Girl does, in fact, have bones. Elbows, even. I felt them with my hand. Which is good, of course, because humans kind of need that sort of thing.

I keep bumping into things with my growing tummy. I keep forgetting it's there. I think I've had a lot of growth in the last couple of weeks.

In March we get the lovely experience of drinking pool water. Actually, our city uses something other than bleach for most of the year to disinfect the water, but every March they have to flush out all the pipes with bleach, so our water tastes and even smells like a pool. I guess I appreciate them keeping the pipes clean, but it sure tastes yucky. I grew up drinking well water, and it was really good, so I guess I'm pretty picky about my water now.

How do you name a girl?

http://www.babynamewizard.com/

I'm so glad I found this website again! I stumbled upon it several months ago and wanted to remember it, but for some reason I never bookmarked it. The tool I like on this website is the one that tracks the popularity of names for each year. I wanted to remember this website so I could have this tool and make sure my kids don't have five other kids in their class with the same name.

We were looking at names the other day, and the comment we kept making was that there were a lot of names that would be fine, but nothing was jumping out as the name.

If you're interested, these are my criteria for names for my children:

It must be a name that people recognize. Explanation: I love my name. It's a beautiful name and I think it suits me. But it does usually present a challenge to people who are trying to learn my name. It was always fun growing up to watch the teacher's face as they called the roll on the first day of class. Interestingly, the good teachers didn't tend to have a problem with my name--for the others, I would watch them squirm for a second and then raise my hand and say, "It's Marcelaine." "Wait, say that again?" "Mar-suh-layne." "Mar-suh-leen?" "No, Mar-suh-layne." "Oh, okay. Marcelaina." "No, Marcelaine." "Do you ever go by Marci?" Sigh. "Yes, that's fine." I think I always kind of resented that some people were so quick to resort to a nickname rather than being willing to put a little effort into learning how to say my name. By tenth grade I really wanted to be called Marcelaine, but I had been in the same school since kindergarten and everyone had been calling me Marci my entire life, so that was hard to overcome, and I just always assumed that Marcelaine was too hard for people. Interestingly, when I went to college I just told people my name was Marcelaine and I didn't have a nickname, and I never met someone who couldn't learn my name. Even my nieces and nephews who could barely talk learned to say my name. Now I usually forget to respond if someone calls me Marci (although I don't hate anyone who calls me that--after all, most people called me Marci until I was 18). Anyway, the point is, unique names are fun and pretty. But they also have their challenges, and that's why I think I prefer names that people recognize. (And then all of our kids will probably give their own children unique names because they're traumatized by having such boring names.)

This probably will sound like it contradicts the previous requirement, but the name can't be common. This isn't so much of an issue with me for boy names, but for girl names it's pretty important to me. I don't like the trendy names and I don't like the names that are very obviously a Utah name. I also don't want to name Baby Girl something like Ashley or Sarah because she'll be Ashley T. her entire life (well, until she gets married) to distinguish her from all the other Ashleys. Which is why I like the link above--because I can make sure any name we choose isn't too trendy right now. I'm not sure how to explain how you can have a name that people recognize but that isn't common, but there are lots of names that fit that criteria for me. There are a lot of older names that work, for example.

It must be spelled the conventional way. I know what it's like to have to make sure people spell your name the right way. Marcelaine is, of course, kind of hard to spell, but even Marci is not as common as Marcie or Marcy. I have seen Olivia spelled Aliviyah, and I must say, I feel really sorry for Aliviyah because everyone she ever meets is going to want to spell her name Olivia, and she's going to have to deal with all the lovely frustrations that go along with that.

Names like Bertha, Hildegarde, Helga, etc. are not an option. If the name makes me think of helmets with horns, I refuse to inflict that name on my child.

I do like names that have a story or that are part of our family history. I keep feeling like there needs to be a reason why we choose a name.

Just to clarify, Baby Girl's name will probably be a secret until she is born. With Kevin we had two names that we liked, and I always felt like people were judging the names if I told them what they were, and I didn't want to be too biased towards one or the other because we weren't sure which one was right for him. I figure that if she's already got the name and the birth certificate is ordered, it's too late for people to make a judgment on it.

It's a . . .

Girl????

Oh!

A couple of weeks ago I was talking to my mom and she said, "Now, you'll be sure to let me know when you find out for sure you're having a girl, right?" I laughed and said I would, but honestly, since we knew we were having a baby we have been talking about Kevin's little brother. We just felt like it was another boy. So I woke up this morning thinking, "Today we will know for sure that we're having another boy." I was already wondering if my little sister would be disappointed that we weren't going to have a girl.

Well, we were pretty surprised. She is definitely a girl. And once the ultrasound technician told us, it felt right to me. I have felt for a long time that there was a girl's spirit who was waiting to come to our family. I just wasn't sure when, and for some reason I didn't think this baby would be her. But it is her! I am so excited to meet her! She has been preparing for so long to have a body and begin her mortal life, and I am very excited to bring her into this world and to be part of the next step in her journey.

Everything looks healthy. Her size matches the due date on the doctor's plastic slide. Which means, of course, that we have no idea when she will be here other than June.

This is a 3D picture of her face. Her face is right in the center of the image, with her arm under her chin, and she's snuggled up next to the placenta. I think it's such a sweet face!

Here's a foot.

And here are a couple of profiles. Her head is on the right in both.

This week has brought some new aches and pains. My tailbone is feeling worse, and my shoulder is also really bothering me. I was never much of a yoga person because the speakers always say such weird things, but I've started looking for prenatal yoga videos because the stretches seem to help, and the videos have stretches that I wouldn't think of doing on my own. I'm hoping that stretching and walking will help alleviate the pain a little. Other than that, I have been feeling great. I'm also starting to feel Baby Girl's little thumps, which is fun, of course.

I remember when I was pregnant with Kevin, I always knew exactly how far along I was, to the day. This time I haven't really been keeping track. It's interesting how the exact date isn't as important to me this time around, and it's also kind of a relief to not be thinking about it.

I know newborns don't need a lot of space, but I'm still not sure how we're going to make room for another baby's things. Whether Kevin is still in a crib or has already moved to a bed at that point, we're going to have to find room for another bed and some kind of dresser, and I'm really not sure how it will fit. Plus, Kevin's boxes of old clothes already take up space, and now we'll be making room for more boxes of girl clothes. Then again, maybe I'll just buy a few girl outfits for going out (so we don't get comments about the cute little baby boy) and she can wear dinosaurs and puppy dogs at home--she won't care. Maybe some decluttering and consolidating is in order.

already an interesting day

The night before last night I dreamed that I had beautiful twin boys. They sort of fell out of me. I was really concerned because I'm not even halfway to my due date, but they were healthy and strong and looked full term. My mom was there and we were busily trying to figure out a way to get to the hospital with them to make sure everything was all right (because they were five months early!). I was kind of glad to wake up and find it was a dream, but it did make me feel more baby hungry.

When I woke up I mentioned to Ryan that I was out of breath, and he said, "No wonder. You were running through my mind all night. Literally. We were running from the flood."

So between running all night and having two babies at some point as well, I guess it's kind of surprising that it was actually a rather restful night.

Then Kevin and I made bread together. By hand. It was the most stressful thing I've done in a long time, but I feel like a good parent because I cooked with my child and didn't even yell. It was fun too, though. Kevin enjoyed stirring the dough with a measuring spoon and helping me measure ingredients and trying to taste the dough (which he didn't like, but he kept trying it anyway). In the end, the damage actually wasn't too bad--one flour-covered outfit and a counter covered in about as much flour as you'd expect from making bread by hand, plus the dishes and our hands, of course. It was a new recipe that calls for a little bit of cornmeal and oats, and it turned out very nicely. I bought a lot of cornmeal a few months ago and then realized that I don't like cornbread enough to cook it often enough to use all this cornmeal by the time I die, so I'm on the hunt for other good recipes that call for cornmeal (besides cornbread). We still need to try making tamales. The bread turned out quite nicely. Kevin ate about five pieces yesterday evening before dinner--he kept begging for more! Now I can't decide if it was good because it was made by hand, or because it was a good recipe. Or maybe it's just that Kevin makes awesome bread. I usually let my bread mix in my breadmaker and then I bake it in the oven, but lately it hasn't been tasting good to me, so I've been wondering if it's the recipe or if it's something about the breadmaker (I suspect that the breadmaker warms the dough slightly while it mixes, and I wonder if that changes the taste). I know I shouldn't have changed two variables at once (method of mixing and recipe), but I guess I was so excited to try this recipe that I did it anyway.

My first class today was cancelled because of the snow, but they only cancelled class until 11:00, so I still had to go to my second class. It didn't snow a lot, but there was a lot of ice. On my way down to catch the bus, I passed a girl who was standing by the sidewalk, staring at it rather fearfully. As I passed, she asked me if it was slippery. I told her it was a little slippery, but her shoes looked like they had better traction than mine did, so she would probably be fine. I had to walk a little more slowly than normal, but it didn't seem that slippery to me, and the stairs are easy because you take one step at a time anyway. So I was a little surprised to look up from the bottom of the stairs (there are a lot of stairs before you get to the bus stop) and see her still almost at the top of the stairs. She was clinging to the rail for dear life and going down the stairs very slowly. I'm pretty used to ice because we had ice pretty often in Idaho when I was growing up, so it didn't really faze me. If you have ice often enough, you kind of get used to the different types of ice and figure out how to walk without slipping. I guess this was the first time it occurred to me that a lot of people around here are scared of walking on ice because they don't know how to do it.

Just before I left, I was doing the usual things--putting on my coat, grabbing my keys, putting on my backpack, etc. Then Kevin got a look of realization on his face that said quite clearly, "No! It's starting again!" and started crying because he knew I'm going to start going to school again. It didn't take him too long to recover, but it's always tough to leave him crying like that.

on shopping and other pregnancy stuff

Have you ever looked at the models on motherhood.com? I'm pretty sure half of them aren't actually pregnant and they're just leaning back and pushing out their tummies. I want to see a model who is eight months pregnant wearing these outfits. That's the true test of whether a maternity shirt is worth buying.

A couple of days ago I was going out in public, and the few shirts I have left that look okay on me were all dirty. In desperation I pulled out a maternity shirt, and, lo and behold, I looked pregnant. And cute. And a shining light bulb appeared above my head as I realized, "Wait a second, I look awful in these shirts because I'm starting to look pregnant!" Not pregnant enough to wear all of my maternity shirts, but some of the smaller ones look pretty good. So I decided that I want to enjoy going to the playground or the store or to a Relief Society activity and feel like I look nice without having to hide under a sweater or coat, and therefore, I am going to go buy some clothes that I like and that I can feel confident in. (I go shopping very rarely, so the fact that I decided to go shopping is kind of a big deal.) So Kevin and I drove to the great and spacious building (i.e. the mall), and I headed to Destination Maternity to find some transition-into-looking-pregnant clothes. Kevin was very good even though he was bored, and he spent most of the time pointing at the mirror and telling his image, "No! No!" So as a reward he got to play at the play area for a while before we went home. And I am so excited because now I can feel like I look nice in my clothes again. I've been wearing big shirts and covering up with a sweater for a couple of months now.

By the way, I was very pleased to note that they've fixed the picture of the pregnant lady on their bags. She used to have her belly poking out under her shirt, but now they fixed it so her shirt covers it all. The old version really bugged me.

The most interesting symptom of pregnancy I've been having this time is that my tailbone hurts, and has been hurting since early in the pregnancy. A lot of the time when I try to roll over or sit up, it causes me a lot of pain and I have to move slowly and carefully. My midwife said it's probably because my body is making hormones to make my joints and ligaments and such relax, which is what I suspected, but I may go see a chiropractor just in case. It would not be fun to find out that I can't get this baby out because there's something funny happening with my tailbone. I don't remember this happening with Kevin, but every pregnancy is different, and this time around maybe my hips know what's coming.

Other aches and pains seem to be setting in earlier this time, like aching hips at night. But for the most part I've been feeling really well. I hardly feel sick at all. My only disappointment is that I'm not sleeping well like I could with Kevin. When I was pregnant with him I was able to take awesome naps that were very deep and very relaxing. This time I have been trying to nap when Kevin does, but for some reason most days I just lie there wondering why I can't get to sleep even though I feel tired.

Classes start this week, and for some reason I'm kind of nervous to start getting bigger and have people in my classes realize I'm pregnant. Maybe I'm afraid it will make me even more different from them because I'll be the married person who's pregnant with her second child. It might be weird. Outside of BYU, it's pretty uncommon for undergraduate students to be married, let alone parents. Or maybe I'm just scared of the attention from people asking if I'm pregnant.

I'm excited to see what Kevin thinks as my tummy grows. Maybe he won't even notice, or maybe he'll eventually figure out that there's a baby in there. He loves to see the babies at church, so I hope he will be as happy having a baby at home all the time. I know it may be challenging to have our attention less focused on him, but I think he will be excited to be a big brother. He is starting to understand a little better what "soft" means. If I tell him to be soft he remembers that it's okay to gently touch a person's head but it's not okay to hit or pull hair. He does enjoy head-butting people, but please don't be insulted if he does it to you or your child, because he truly views it as a sign of affection (I do apologize if it hurts, though). I think it must be a boy thing. I'm sure I will still have to remind him to be gentle with the baby and that there will be times when I have to keep the baby way out of reach, but I hope that I can find the right balance so that he can start bonding with the baby and not feel like this is just one more thing he's not allowed to play with.

I'm starting to feel baby-hungry again like I did before the morning sickness set in. Recently some of my friends on facebook have posted pictures of their new babies and I tend look at them and say, "Oh, I want a baby." I don't know how it's possible that I barely remember the half-conscious once-an-hour feedings in the middle of the night, or smelling like rotten milk, or desperately wanting to take a shower but not doing so because if I set the baby down for too long he will cry till he's purple. I don't even remember being in labor hurting much. I just want a baby. Which is probably why the human race is still around.

happy news

Now that I've heard a heartbeat and had a midwife appointment confirm to me that everything is okay, I feel like I can share that we're going to have another baby sometime next June. I told several people early in the pregnancy because I just wasn't feeling very well and I had to have somebody to talk to about it, so I know the rumor has already spread a little bit among my friends here. But I haven't wanted to post anything about it on here yet because I was kind of afraid that I would make the announcement and then find out something was wrong and have to write on my public blog to explain before having a chance to process it all. I don't know why I was so worried about it because there wasn't any indication of a problem. At any rate, today I was finally able to see a midwife after having to reschedule my first appointment due to "inclement weather" (a light dusting of snow), and there is a heartbeat and it's nice and strong. I was really expecting that once I heard a heartbeat it would start to feel real that we're going to have another baby, but even now it hasn't fully sunk in. We're very excited.

In answer to some of the questions you will probably want to ask . . .

I'm about 3 1/2 months along. Kevin and the baby will be about 23 months apart.

I've been feeling sicker this time around than with Kevin. The food aversions are a little bit worse and I kind of just feel blah. But it's getting better. I've even been eating chicken this week.

We will probably have an ultrasound next month to make sure everything is okay, at which point we will also find out if the baby is a girl or boy.

Yes, we've thought of some names, but we're keeping that a secret.

I am getting prenatal care at the Women's Birth and Wellness Center. It's a different group of midwives than I saw last time. I think I will really like this place. They do all of the same tests and checks as the other midwives did with Kevin, but I feel like the attitude of the place is different. There's more emphasis on allowing me choices in my care and explaining the purpose of various procedures and tests, and my comfort is really important to them. And when the baby is born they do everything for the baby right there in front of you, often with the baby in your arms. Even if the baby needs a little oxygen, if they can they bring the oxygen to the baby rather than taking the baby away somewhere. Sometimes with Kevin I felt like I had to work pretty hard to get the nurses to bring him back to me if they had taken him somewhere for a bath or whatever, so I really like this way of doing things. The person who did my blood work today was awesome--I only felt a tiny prick, so I assumed she had changed her mind and hadn't put the needle in yet, but then I looked over and realized the needle was in and she had taken most of the samples already! I barely felt a thing! They have also been very up front with me about how much things will cost and what the costs are for, which I thought was awesome. Nobody ever told me anything about that when I was pregnant with Kevin, and it was very frustrating for me to have no idea how much things were going to cost. The only answers I could ever get were that it's hard to say because people have different insurance and every pregnancy is different, but I always felt like I should have been able to get a ballpark estimate for what a normal birth costs. I don't understand why cost always seems to be a taboo subject with healthcare.

I breastfed Kevin until I was about 2 1/2 months pregnant, and at that point he stopped on his own. I was thinking of stopping earlier than that because I was afraid that it was making me feel even more sick (although he was only nursing for a couple of minutes per day), but after praying about it I had a feeling that I needed to continue a little longer until he was ready to be done, and for us it worked out really well. If we had stopped earlier, I would have felt really sad and Kevin would have had a hard time because he wasn't ready. But after only a few more weeks Kevin was ready, and when he was done I felt satisfied too. I didn't notice any difference in morning sickness before and after we were done with breastfeeding. So that was my experience with breastfeeding while pregnant. It's been a great relationship-building experience for both of us and has provided us both with many benefits, and I am grateful that for Kevin and I breastfeeding was such a positive thing.

The Birth Story

I've been meaning to write and post this for a while, but it's amazing to me how much time our little baby takes up--there's not as much time between feedings as you would think, and when there is a little time a nap seems like a better option! Sitting in a chair at the computer also isn't the most comfortable thing after you've had a baby.

Our baby boy was born on July 17--remember the due date was July 8. His name is Kevin James Tanner (named after both of our fathers), and he weighed 8 lbs. 1 oz.

And here's the story:

On July 8th, the due date, I had a midwife appointment. The midwife checked me and I was still completely closed. That was kind of discouraging, but I figured the baby would probably come soon and tried not to worry about it. I was scheduled for an induction at 42 weeks (July 22) if he wasn't born by then. I knew chances were that I wouldn't end up going that long, but for some reason it really bothered me, so I looked up some information about how they ripen your cervix and read a lot of things about Pitocin--and decided again that I did NOT want to be induced. It turns out it was a good thing I did a little more research, because the information came in handy.

I had a non-stress test scheduled for July 15, one week after the due date. I went alone to the appointment. I was still feeling well and the thought of being pregnant for a few more days wasn't too bad, although I was feeling impatient. They hooked me up to two monitors--one measured the baby's heartbeat, and the other measured the contractions and the baby's movements. The heartbeat is supposed to increase a little bit when the baby moves. Well, the baby hardly moved at all during the test, although his heartbeat was fine, so they said they wanted to do an ultrasound so they could do a biophysical profile. He looked great, but they found that the amniotic fluid was almost completely gone--very dangerous because without the cushioning of the amniotic fluid the baby could roll on top of the umbilical cord and cut off his supply of oxygen. So the ObGyn on duty came in and said it was time to have a baby. She found the midwife on call, explained the situation to her, and said they needed to send me up to labor and delivery. The midwife said I could call RT and wait for him before coming up to labor and delivery.

I was really upset and disappointed because I knew this meant most of my birth plan was going out the window. I had a wonderful image of spending a lot of labor in my own comfortable apartment, snacking throughout early labor to keep up my strength, then finishing off at the hospital without being attached to any monitors or IVs and definitely not getting any Pitocin or pain medication. I had really felt like this was the best way for me to do it. I had heard from many people that Pitocin makes the contractions horrific, and I was pretty sure that there was no way I would be able to stand being in labor induced by Pitocin. As I was doing my research about induction, I decided that if I ended up having to be induced, I would do my best to go without drugs, but that if it got to the point where I was suffering (rather than managing the pain) I would get an epidural. It was important to me to have a positive birth experience, and I didn't want to look back on something horrific. I'm really glad that for some reason I felt like I needed to put some thought into how I would handle an induced labor.

The midwife, Jane, checked me and I still wasn't dilated at all, which meant they needed to use other means to open me up a little bit before starting the Pitocin. She put in a foley bulb and filled it with water and said that it would fall out when I was dilated to about a 4--she predicted that would happen in 2-4 hours. While we waited I ate as much as I could because once they started the Pitocin I wouldn't be able to eat. Jane said this would probably be a very long process--at least 24-36 hours. I had to be hooked up to the fetal monitors all the time because of the low fluid levels, and they also put a medlock in my hand for the IV. It was really annoying because the monitors often slipped around when I moved and the medlock made my hand about as useful as if it was broken. Fortunately they had some telemetry monitors, so I wasn't plugged into a wall all the time and I was free to walk around.

It turned out that instead of taking a couple of hours for the foley bulb to come out, it took about 24 hours--it didn't come out until the next day. That was nice since I was able to eat and get some sleep and a shower before the Pitocin, but it was very boring to wait (it didn't hurt at all yet), which was why I would have preferred to be at home.

They started the Pitocin on Thursday morning. A new midwife, Stephanie, was on call. She told me that if I had been seeing the ObGyns they would have just done a C-section the day before because of failure to progress (of course I was failing to progress--I wasn't supposed to be in labor yet!)--fortunately the midwives don't mind giving you a little more time as long as the baby is doing okay . You can imagine I've said a lot of prayers of gratitude for that blessing. I really feel that I was guided by a higher power to choose midwives for my prenatal care. It's more evidence to me that God is Keeping My Feet.

In the afternoon I finally started having contractions that required some concentration. We did a lot of walking in the halls (RT was amazing and dragged the IV pole around for me). When I had contractions I would put my arms around him and sway while breathing deeply. As the contractions became more intense I started moaning through them. Occasionally I would assess my pain, and I kept feeling like I was handling the contractions just fine and definitely wasn't suffering yet, so I didn't ask for an epidural.

Around 9:00 at night I was starting to have a pretty hard time. I was really tired and that was making it hard to handle the contractions. I was starting to think I needed some relief--remember I had figured I would be getting an epidural because of how hard the Pitocin would make the contractions. Stephanie checked me and I was at a six, which was good progress. I assessed my pain and realized that it still wasn't unbearable except that I was incredibly tired, and Stephanie suggested that rather than an epidural I could take a small dose of narcotics, which would help me to sleep between the contractions and not care so much about the pain of the contractions--they would work for about two hours. I felt good about that option, and I think it was a good decision to take the narcotics. It helped me to get just enough rest to finish. RT says I said some pretty strange things to him during those couple of hours.

After the narcotics wore off we walked the halls some more. We also raised the back of the bed and I would sit on the side and lean sideways against the back. Eventually instead of moaning I was saying "I Can" in long, low tones. That really helped when I would reach the peak of the contractions and wasn't sure if I could make it through.

Several hours later the contractions were getting really intense and very painful. I'm not sure why I didn't realize I was in transition because I had lots of the symptoms and I had been dilated to a six several hours earlier. Now I felt like the pain was bad enough that if I had to endure this and worse for several more hours I would be suffering, so I told Ryan I thought it was time to think about the epidural. I didn't want to get one, but it was also important to me to not look back on a horrific birth experience and I thought I was going to have several more hours of even worse pain. He encouraged me to try waiting a little longer and then we would have the midwife check to see how much progress had been made. He was so helpful and did a great job taking charge of the situation. I couldn't have done it without him. Stephanie checked me and I was at a nine! In other words, there was no point in getting an epidural because soon I would be pushing and it might not provide relief until it was too late. All I could think was, "Are you kidding me? I'm actually going to have my epidural-free childbirth experience after all?"

Soon I realized why this had been so painful--it wasn't just the contractions, but also the urge to push. It was really hard to resist pushing while I waited to completely dilate. I hated it. Finally the nurse checked me and I was completely dilated, so Stephanie said I could start pushing. This was at about 5:00 in the morning. It felt a lot better to push. It didn't really seem painful anymore, which surprised me. It was exhilarating to push, but I didn't really like pushing because I just wanted to be done and I had no idea what was going on. RT and my nurse were great coaches and I quickly figured out how it felt when I was pushing effectively. At this point the fetal monitors were really annoying because it was painful for anything to be touching my belly.

Stephanie's shift ended and I had a new midwife, Meg, for the last little bit of pushing. Stephanie told me I was a strong woman for being able to have a natural childbirth while on Pitocin, and she also joked that Meg was stealing her delivery. I was so thrilled that I was in the pushing stage without drugs. I don't know if I would have been able to push effectively if I couldn't feel what was going on, and I think it really added something to the entire experience. Finally there was a push where I felt a very strong stinging, and I knew before they told me that the head had crowned. After a couple more sets of pushes Meg told me that on the next contraction she wanted me to blow instead of pushing so that I wouldn't tear, and I knew that THIS WAS IT! The baby was going to come out this time! It was an amazing moment when I saw Meg hold him up and they passed him into my arms (no slimy skin-to-skin for me--they wrapped him in a blanket first). I was smiling and nearly crying. He was so beautiful. Pretty soon I asked RT if he wanted to hold him because Meg was stitching me up and that was distracting me (looking back I kind of wish I had asked to see the placenta because I was kind of curious). I loved watching RT and K bonding. I pushed for about three hours, but I completely lost track of the time and didn't realize how long it had taken.

This was a very long process, but I'm so grateful that I still ended up having a good experience and even more grateful that my beautiful son is here and completely healthy. The last week and a half have been wonderful. There have definitely been challenges and tears, but somehow we've been able to figure out what to do in every case. I am so excited for the opportunity to be a mother and I feel so strongly that there's no better way to make a difference in this world. This is what I want to do. I often feel amazed at this beautiful boy who is completely dependent on me for his survival--and I really am capable of providing those needs. It's hard to believe that I have a baby of my very own now--only a couple of years ago that time seemed so far away.

One of the things I am most grateful for is the guidance and strength I have received from the Holy Ghost during the last couple of weeks. One of the things I was really hoping was that giving birth would be a spiritual experience, and it definitely was. I felt an impression from the Holy Ghost that I should switch to the midwives, and in the end this saved me from having a C-section. I was prompted by the Spirit to do a little more research to prepare for an induced labor, so when that happened I was prepared and knew better what was going on and how to be my own advocate as a patient. Throughout labor I heard and felt the voice of the Spirit helping me and giving me strength--when I could feel a contraction starting and just wasn't sure if I could handle it, I distinctly heard, "Let me help you," and that helped me make it through. When it has been the middle of the night and K won't stop crying and I'm exhausted, the Holy Ghost has reassured me that I'm doing a good job taking care of my child and that it will be okay. I'm so grateful for the gift of the Holy Ghost. Even though it changed all of my plans, I am also grateful that they were able to find the problem with the low amniotic fluid--I have to wonder if K would have been born safe, alive, and healthy if they hadn't.

I am also grateful for RT. He has been a wonderful help and support for me. I can't imagine going through the process of labor without him there to support me--he knows me so well and often was able to suggest just the right thing to help me keep going. He does a great job of soothing K when he is upset, and he has been doing a lot of things to help me out so that I can rest and recover. I really appreciate the encouragement he has given me. I also feel so blessed that we are married for all eternity and that he is a worthy, noble priesthood holder.