Cheerio Confessions

Elliott met Emmett for the very first time today. This is a small clip of how it went. Nothing was done to the video because I am to tired and I have both Elliott and Gavin at home now. I just wanted to show how it went. Gavin does not appear on tape. This is for a couple reasons...

1) Gavin doesn't always like being taped.
2) With all the legal "Crap" we are very careful with Gavin.
Once this is all over with (hopefully very soon) then we can just do what we want. But until then we have to be careful what we do. If you are new here and wondering what I am referring to skim through some of the older posts and you'll understand.. Those of you that know us know what we are referring to... Gavin was completely indifferent to Emmett today when they met for the first time. We kinda expected as much. But we know Gavin loves Emmett in his own way and that's good enough for us.

Until later.... Thanks You

Emmett John was born at exactly 12:30am this morning after about 10 hours of "Official" labor. Lizze pushed 12 times. Emmett was born and given right to the NICU staff for once over.. I am so pleased to announce that he is perfect. No problems at all. We were terrified as the time grew closer because of what happened with Elliott Richard.

Lizze did an amazing job and I am so grateful for all her hard work and personal sacrifice in order to bring him into this world. She is absolutely amazing and I am so proud of her. The hospital staff are second to none. I will post more later.

Thank you for yours thoughts and prayers though out this process. While we will still need your continued prayers because of the turmoil our lives are in we made it over a huge hurdle. Thank you so much for thoughts and prayers....

Love,

Rob

Well, doctor just checked me again. I'm now 5-6cm dilated. 90% effaced. Still -2 station. She placed an internal monitor........

Having baby now

Just got checked again. I'm a whopping 5cm and 80% effaced. -2 station. We want 10cm 100% and +2 station. I'm having some major itching as a natural side effect of the epidural. They've increased my pit quite a few times and my epidural once. I predicted he would be here between 9 and 12. I was wrong.

I'm off to try and sleep for a bit.

No NICU.
No NICU.
No NICU.

Doctor (not Dr. D) just came in and checked me. I'm still dilated 4cm but now I'm 80% effaced. So we are making some progress. She said she isn't worried b/c this is my pattern...stall then jump to 10cm. Other than that, nothing much has changed. Tiny is tolerating labor really well. And the general concensus is that he should be fine and we should be able to avoid the NICU.

That's my prayer request: no NICU.

I'll update or have Rob update as needed. Although *the* update make take a while. ;) lol

Epidural in.
Dilated to 4cm.
Water completely broken now.
That's about it for now.

Stupid phone cut me off in mid-email when I was still typing. Oh well, I'll fix it later.

Long story short:

My water is leaking. (it took 2 tests and an ultrasound to confirm this.)
I've been admitted.
Pitcin was started @ 230pm.
Last time I was checked (2.5 hrs ago) I was dilated to 3cm and effacing more.
I am exactly 36 wks today.

We will probably post more later on. Pray he doesn't need the NICU. Please God, don't let him need the NICU.

I'm currently admitted to the hospital! Yes, you read that correctly...I am in the hospital! :)

I was having some nasty contractions last night and this morning. Late last night I was feeling like my water may have broken but I literally didn't have *any* evidence of it breaking so I blew it off. I woke up this morning after a crappy night's sleep with some horrible cramping. I was having some contractions about 5 mins apart that were making me...let's say uncomfortable. (I'm sure Rob will feel free to correct me later. Lol) At one point Rob backed into the "man cave" to get away. Lol

We came in anyway just in case my water was leaking. Turns out that I was rig

Seriously. We do.

I don't think I'll share until he's born though.

Ha. Ha. (Remember you love me! *muah*)

What Tiny is up to this week: The countdown continues… and in fetal developments: most of the bones (soft skull aside) in their little body are now completely hardened, providing a solid structure from which they can now make their grand debut into the world. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, we are structurally ready for a secure launch. In physical fitness news: their muscle tone has also improved over these past few weeks, and you’ll definitely be impressed by their steel-like Ulnar grasp (a newborn reflex that occurs if you lay your finger in their palm). And in genital development: if you’re having a girl, her labia are now fully developed. Finally, in the fluids/excretion department: the amniotic fluid-to-baby ratio has fallen over these past weeks, although they’re still swallowing fluid (building up even more meconium for that historic first poop), and some vernix caseosa. They will be more than ready to swallow and digest milk after birth. Just in case you didn’t get it quite yet: you’ve got yourself an adorable and hungry 6.5 lbs 20 inch baby—are you ready?

Now this is all assuming of course that Tiny sticks around for another 7 days. Personally, I highly doubt we'll make it to 37 weeks. And at this point, I question if we'll make it to the end of the week.

I've been having contractions 8 minutes apart all day. My mom came and picked up Gavin for a slumber party. Elliott Richard is having his first slumber party sans grandparents over at Uncle Jon and Aunt Teri's. (I'm not sure who was more excited - Elliott Richard or Aunt Teri when she picked him up.) I was having contractions 3 minutes apart for a few hours but they have moved back to 8 minutes apart. I am having some serious pressure though, which is new. I haven't had pressure like this yet. At times, the pressure is actually more painful than the contraction itself. My nurse yesterday/last night (the one who fought for my admittance) said if "anything changes, anything at all come back". I think the amount of pressure I'm having definitely qualifies as "anything changing". So if that keeps up (it's only gotten worse as the day goes on) I will probably go back in. And then I will probably be sent home, again. *sigh*

Dr. D was kind enough to call in a script for the Zofran. (Thank God!) My insurance will pay for 10 pills. We aren't sure if this is 10 pills at a time. Three days worth at a time (since it's prescribed 3 times a day). Or if it's 10 pills a month. I'm currently trying to figure this out. Anyway, they are dissolving tablets. Which is nice. However, in their attempt to make them not taste like asprin they made they berry flavored. Which is absolutely disgusting when you are already incredibly nauseous.

Okay, so one more quick post before I try and nap. (Ha! Yeah right!) Anyway, it occurred to me last night that for 4 months everyone has been praying for us. For Tiny to stay put. To this I politely and lovingly scream...

REVERSE YOUR ENGINES!!!!!!

No more praying for him to stay put!

Please!

I beg of you!

Pray for him to COME OUT!

Out I say!

Yeah so it's Tuesday and I'm just giving the weekend update. Sue me. (Seriously, go ahead. All the "cool kids" are doing it these days. lol)

Thursday ~ L&D visit. I think I posted from my cell phone in my room.

Friday ~ L&D visit #2. Again I think I posted from my cell phone in my room. (Feel free to correct me on this and I'll fix this part of the update.)

Saturday ~ Stayed home. Absolutely miserable. On again, off again contractions with cramps.

Sunday ~ Home again. Still miserable. Still having on again, off again contractions. Tiny was moving like mad. Whoever said they slowly down on the movements when they run out of room, didn't know my son. Ate Wendy's spicy chicken for dinner. (That's the first thing I'd had to eat since Saturday at dinner.)

Monday ~ Home in the morning. Phenergan not working. Unable to keep down food or water. Probably dehydrated. Forcing down water. Trying to hold it down, failing more often than not. Went in to L&D at 1:00pm. Declared in "latent early labor", which is a fancy term for "stuck at 2cm during early labor". Once I get over this 2cm hump I may just fly. It's just a matter of getting to that point. We were in L&D for 6-7 hours. My nurse was able to see a few of my "10" contractions that for whatever reason weren't showing up on the monitor. So she was fighting to have me admitted but since I'm not changing the doctors weren't going for it. They gave me Zofran for the nausea et al. (I'm currently waiting to hear from Dr. D's office on whether they are willing to call in a script so I can keep hydrated blah blah blah.) Then they released me.

Now we wait. Well we wait. I try and stay sane. I woke up with horrible cramps - I think I only slept through them because the Ambien didn't leave me much of a choice. I was feeling pretty good this morning and made the mistake of eating a doughnut and drinking some water. The contractions have decided they don't appreciate the doughnut being in my stomach and are trying to evict it.

Lisa came at 8:00am and gave me my last 17P injection. She assured me that it will not stop what has already started. (Woo who!) I will miss her weekly visits. I will NOT miss the injections. (lol)

Rob is "nesting". I am exhausted. I think I'll let him nest and go try and nap.

Here's the current list of first names. Don't ask me for middle names because we just aren't there yet. I have included origin and meaning in case you are interested.

Elijah - (Hebrew) Lord is my God

Caden - (American) Fighter (also spelled: Kaden, Kayden, Kaeden)

Lucas - (Greek) from Lucania

***This is a vent. An unleashing of the flood gates. Maybe in releasing the floodgates I will finally *fully* go into labor.***

I appear to have lost my God. I've been praying, mentally calling, desperately seeking and the line appears to be dead. I think I've got a wrong number. Or he's got caller ID and is avoiding my calls.

I begged last week, "Please God, let's end this. Whatever it takes, let's get Tiny here and be done." At that point, my labor came to a screeching halt. Since then it's been stuck in a puttering car-dying while you are driving it kind of mode.

I'm having just enough contractions to physically, mentally and psychologically exhaust me. I've been walking around all weekend with that full-body tensed-up feeling that you get either just after running that 2K you really didn't prepare for or like Rob says "when you feel like you're going to puke but you never do". My mom says
, "maybe that feeling is impending labor".

I've eaten once in two or three days because the nausea is horrible - even with the phenergan. I've lost my mucous plug, which could either mean everything or absolutely nothing at all. I've had pink tinged mucous since then, which again could mean everything or absolutely nothing at all. (Sorry that's probably *way* too much info.)

I can't sleep, even *with* Ambien. I toss and turn, while I try and get away from the "feeling" (see 2 paragraphs up). I'm sure I kept Rob up all night.

I am a grumpy and generally horrible person to be around. Rob keeps begging me to go back to sleep. I don't even want to be in my own skin at this point.

I begged God four days ago, "Please!? Can't we end this?" I get that God doesn't always answer our prayers in the manner we would like. Really, I get it. But at the same time, I never really had him pegged as a sick and twisted kinda guy.

If Tiny isn't coming, FINE! But enough with the torture already.

I hereby wave the white flag in surrender.

I'm not sure when but I doubt it's going to be long before Tiny makes his grand enterance into the world. If you haven't already, you'll want to be sure to enter your guess into the poll we've got going!

I feel like I've been complaining, a lot; however, I am being honest. Something I hope my friends and family have come to expect from me...honesty. It's so rarely seen anymore. Many don't know it when it stares them right in the face. Other's don't care to know it at all because lying is easier.

Me? I prefer the truth. I will lie on certain things. Christmas. Birthdays. Other holidays/events where gifts or surprises are involved. But in all things big and major, I tell the truth.

I like to think that's why some of you read the blog at all. Because of the honesty you'll find here. Because it's not post after post of how rosie things might be or could be or we would like them to be. We show you the honest truth. The nitty gritty of our lives, within reason. (Let's face it, something things just aren't meant for sharing. ;) lol)

Rob and I spent the better part of 7-8 hours in L&D last night. When we arrived my contractions were 10 minutes apart. Then they were 7 minutes apart. Then 5 minutes. In the end, just before I was sent home, they were 3 minutes apart and kicking my butt.

Long story short, I was "violated" 6 ways from Sunday. Had one incredibly painful IV placed about 30 minutes before my release. And monitored for 7-8 hours. In the end, I had dilated to about 2 cm (an increase from the 1 cm/40% effaced I've been for 3-4 weeks) but that wasn't enough. I needed to dilate more and faster for it to be "true labor". They sent me home.

Elliott Richard was "spending the night" at Grandma and Grandpa G's. I used that term loosely because apparently very little sleep was had.

Gavin spent the night at Grandma and Grandpa W's. Although from what I hear, sleep was hard to come by there as well.

We got home at 2-ish am. I took a Darvocet and an Ambien to help me sleep. They finally kicked in (ie won out over the contractions) at around 4-4:30am. I slept for about 4 hours total last night. My uterus contacted away. Like the "Little Engine that Could" only without the accomplishment in the end.

We woke up. I took my morning meds. Made a quick trip to Wally World for envelopes for my cards. Came home. Laid down for a while. (Contracting 7-10 minutes apart all the while.) Grandma G and Aunt Jenny brought Elliott Richard home. Hung out with my Twitter Bug until the contractions became so bad that I was clinging to the couch for support and sobbing. Grandma G and Aunt Jenny came back. Elliott Richard was gone again.

Off to L&D we went again. So sure that "this was it". So sure we would be seeing our Tiny soon. I contracted 3-5 minutes apart all the way to the hospital. I contracted during the entire trip from the ER to L&D. I contracted and I cried.

They wheeled me into L&D. My favorite nurse, Shawn, was on shift. She saw me. Then she saw the tears and lack of smile, which I usually always wear when I see her. (She is a truly special nurse in my book.) She caught on that we meant business and it might actually be it. It took a few moments to get my ID bands on because I was doubled over in pain. I finally flung my right arm out to the side so they could band me - pain or not. They debated moving my wheelchair because of the pain. I think I half mumbled, half grunted "it won't matter". So they moved me. As if I were either made of glass or going to shred their heads from their shoulders...I'm not sure which.

I climbed into bed with a lot of help from Rob. He helped me get dressed. Something that never happens due to my fierce independence streak. I think I laid my head on his chest and sobbed for a moment. I got into bed. Shawn came in. Hooked up the monitors. And as if she had flipped a switch (a very cruel and vindictive switch) it all stopped. My contractions disappeared. The few I had weren't showing up on the monitor but were obvious upon viewing and feeling my belly. It all just came to a screeching halt.

I cried.

They checked me, again. I'm still dilated to 2cm. No change. These contractions that were bringing me to my knees sobbing in pain weren't enough to get the job done.

I cried.

Shawn came back in. She zapped Tiny with a vibrator/buzzer thingie because he was asleep and they needed to see his heart rate with some increases and decells before they could release me. She placed it on my belly and *buzzt*. Tiny literally jumped from his spot head down with his back in the center of my belly to the left side of my belly. As far away from the violating "buzzt" as he could get. All in one moment, Shawn "buzzt" Tiny. Tiny jumped. And my entire uterus seized up in a massive contraction.

They were all happy with the outcome. We were discharged. The nurse who discharged me (not my beloved Shawn) said that the "seasoned nurses" swear by spicy food and sex. I've been eating spicy food. The other is a no-no while on strict bed rest, which Dr. D is adamant I continue until Tiny arrives or 37 weeks - whichever comes first.

We came home again.

Gavin is still with Grandma and Grandpa W.

Elliott was with Grandma and Grandpa G until about 2 hours ago. They were nice enough to bring him home along with Taco Bell for me (spicy food on a budget) and a sundae for Rob. Elliott fell asleep in the car. Rob carried him to bed.

I feel like a horrible mother.

I didn't get to say "amens" (aka prayers) with Elliott Richard last night or tonight. I love to say "amens" with him. I didn't get to tuck Gavin in or remind him that he needed to sleep and turn the TV off at 10pm last night or tonight.

When Tiny comes, if Heaven forbid he is in the NICU, I know I will camp out at the hospital. I will not leave. I will sleep in whichever room they see fit to give me. I will drag myself from bed every 3 hours to help feed him. I will pump enough milk to put most dairy cows to shame. I will ask questions. I will beg for chances to change diapers and watch baths. I will stalk my son, his nurses, his doctors and anyone else who may possibly have information on his progress and prognosis. My life Gavin and Elliott Richard, will be placed on hold. I will miss them. I will love them (no less or no more than Tiny). But I will be where I am needed most. And so the good of the two will stumble while I focus on the good of the one.

There is no doubt in my mind that Rob will at some point attempt to lure me home. Attempt to lure me back to normalcy. I can't fathom that. I can't fathom a sense of "normalcy" with one child fighting for life while the other two live. I can't make that work out in my head.

In the end of July, I will be summoned to court. To defend myself against charges that have no basis within the scope of the real world. I will be drug my newborn child. Ripped away from him. I will likely be his only source for food. And yet, I will go. I will go because in the end of July, just as those few days from now, I will fight for the good of the one. While the good of the two must suffer. I will be angry. I will be hormonal. It's likely that I will be blunt, which may or may not work to my favor. However, the fact will remain that for that day Gavin will be the good of the one. Elliott Richard and Tiny will be the good of the two placed on temp hold.

Until then, I am trying to find a way to survive. The contractions on a 10 on the lovely pain scale (that we all know I love so much) of 1-10. (1 being no pain at all and 10 being "a shark could be ripping my limbs off and I would not notice") I'm so tired that Ambien on an empty stomach still takes 3 hours to kick-in over the pain. I'm so frustrated with my body and it's sudden unwillingness to follow through. When I've been fighting it for 4 months to NOT follow through. I'm so frustrated that I struggle to see and feel the miracle that is every movement of Tiny within my belly. And this makes me feel horrible beyond words.

How many women would die to be me at this very moment? How many would love nothing more and yet will not be granted such a miracle? What right do I have to complain and be irritated with the miracle that is our unborn son, when I myself was told 3 years that he was a complete and total impossibility.

For all of these things, and many other things that simply were unable to penetrate my sleep-hazy mind, I will not be awarded "Mother of the Year". I am sorry to disappoint. I am a mother. I am a human. I am not Super Mom. At least, I'm honest about it. That counts for something, right?

We're home. I have a throbbing migraine. I'm physically exhausted. My contractions are painful and my nurse told me not to second guess myself, that I know my body better than anyone. I've eaten some waffles. Took my meds for the migraine and ambien to sleep through the contractions. Now i just wait for it all to kick in.

So until later today, good night.

It's now 11:38pm. I'm beyond caring about grammar and spelling etc so ignore the typos.

Here's the run down:

BP: 112/72 (which is kinda high for me)
Tiny's Heartbeat: 131 bpm
Pulse: 101 bpm
Weight: 181 lb (from Dr. D's office)
Fundal height: 36 cm (from Dr. D's office)
Cx: 3 minutes apart
Dilated: 2 cm

Intern/resident guy just came back in and checked me again. I'm still only dilated to 2 cm, which means I'm not in "true labor" (bull****!) and they are sending me home.

I'm not sure, but I may kill someone. If I commit a crime while in labor (true or not) does that automatically qualify me as "temp insane"?

Thank God they started my ultra painful IV and humilated me 6 ways from Sunday just to send me home!

Argh!

35 weeks appears to be the limit. Contractions are 10 minutes apart. Have been that way all day. Some feel closer than 10 minutes to me. I feel like I'm leaking but at this point who knows. They will not help me along unless my water breaks. Something had better freaking happen because these are exhausting. I'm going in. If they send me home, fine. But I don't know that they will.

If you pray, do it now! We don't have a name. I'm shaking. I'm exhausted. I'm so not ready.

PRAY! PRAY! PRAY!