Friday, October 17, 2014

My Baby!

I realized the other day that I have not written a post on my "baby's" birth. She turned three in August, so I guess she really isn't a baby anymore.

Her birth story is by far the most unique of the three girls. It started when my then baby was three months old. She had whooping cough, I had whooping cough, and neither of us were sleeping. It was a long recovery for her and in the middle I find out I'm pregnant again. We were not planning or trying to get pregnant again. I took the pregnancy test on Christmas Eve and it should have been exciting, but my husband received a call the same day that the house we were trying to purchase fell through. Here we are planning on moving into this new house in days, our current house rented out, and no where to go. Thankfully my parents had room for us until we were able to find a new house.

I was not happy about being pregnant, although I did want more kids. Now was not when I planned to have another one. I didn't want anyone to know. I just needed time to deal with everything that was going on in my life and then I added guilt of not wanting her yet and not loving my baby instantly like I did with the other two. It was so hard emotionally, especially when I know couples who want kids and have lost them. I didn't want my baby then. I just couldn't handle it emotionally.

As the next couple months went by, I started losing a lot of weight fast. I couldn't eat much and was so tired and stressed. My little one with whooping cough could only sleep up to two hours at a time. Looking back I know God had a plan for my family and it included another little girl. I should have miscarried but God watched over us and protected us. 

After about three months I was finally in a place emotionally where I could be excited about another baby. My little one was starting to get over the whooping cough, I stopped nursing her, she was sleeping more, and we were moving into a new house.

 At eight months pregnant, my little one was breach. I was scheduled for an inversion (where the doctor attempts to turn the baby so they can drop into the birth canal). The doctor successfully turned her, and as he walks out of the room, she turns back to a breach position. He comes back turns her again successfully. By the time I got home, guess what? She was breach again.

This sent me back the next week to try again to turn the baby. Doctor was able to turn her again successfully only to have her turn back to breach just outside the hospital. 

I was frustrated and a little scared. With a one year old and a 2 1/2 year old I really didn't want a c-section. I knew my husband only had 5 vacation days and I'd need more then a week worth of help. 

Now I'm two weeks before my due date and my doctor decided we should try to turn the baby one more time and then induce me. After looking at options, this seemed the safest for both of us. 

One week before my due date my husband and I went in to the hospital. My doctor was able to turn her, induce me, and an hour later she broke my water. That afternoon we welcomed our baby girl into the world. 

Yet the story isn't over. As she's coming out, I see the doctor push the med student out of the way, grab the baby, and rush her to the warming bed. Within minutes our room had several nurses crowding around our little one. 

As she was coming out, she had been tangled up in the umbilical cord and it had broke. She lost a little blood and had to be monitored for at least an hour. It consisted of blood pressure checks and some tests done. She was perfectly fine, but boy she really wanted to her entrance as dramatic as possible. 

Now she is three years old and spunky. There is always a smile on her face and she is the sweetest. We get hugs and kisses from her all the time. Her favorite toy is her doll and she has become a little mommy to it. Looking over the last three years I know God has really blessed me.

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