Lyra's Birth Story

I know life is about to get cray-cray when we leave this hospital room and I doubt I'll have another time  over the next few weeks to really get all this down. We have a baby! A beautiful daughter! I still can't quite wrap my mind around it. Thankfully she was not the marathon birth her brother was which currently has her in the running for best baby. 

Thursday 06/09: We were supposed to report to the hospital that night at 7:30pm. Despite being overdue, I kept having this feeling I wasn't ready. I felt like I was forgetting something important to set up for my family to watch over Row. Rowan was acting oddly that day. Very apathetic my sister noted. I'd planned to just blow his toddler mind with all the fun things we would do on his last as an only child. He helped me make chocolate chip pancakes and we talked excitedly about the arrival of Aunt Sarah. Sel ended up taking the day off after his lecture which made the day seem even more exciting. Once Sar arrived, we headed to Imagination Station. Row continued to be off and wasn't excited by absolutely everything like he normally is. I think he could sense his life was about to be changed in a big way. During his nap, my angel of a friend insisted she give me one last preggo pedicure. I always feel super guilty watching my friend rub my feet, but she's someone I will happily let do so if it means I get to enjoy her company for an hour or two. One of the nurses actually complimented my friend's pedicure skills a the hospital. 

Right after we finished dinner, my sweet sister loaded the dishwasher. We were just about to head out the door when I noticed Row go into the kitchen and get really quiet. Usually a bad sign. I walked in to see him staring at a mountain of bubbles collecting outside the dishwasher. We'd bought "dishwashing" soap from Sam's a month or so again thinking it was, you know, for your dishwasher. Once we put it in and discovered it was a liar, we'd been storing what would now be our five year supply of dish soap under the sink. My thoughtful sis had been tricked by that dumb bottle too. It was a perfectly timed hysterical moment. Sel was a genius and detached a piece from our camelback to siphon out the suds onto some cookie trays. We needed to be at the hospital crazy soon and were nowhere near to getting there with the disaster. We put up a pile of towels in front of the dishwasher and prayed for the best. We made sure to grab last pregnancy ice-cream on our way there with all the time we had. It was worth it. 

Cleaning up the suds 

7:45pm - We show up to the hospital and they get us all set up in our room. I love it infinitely better than the one Row was born in because it has windows and seems cleaner somehow. Rowan runs around like a crazy person with my sister and I try to wrap my mind around the fact that a baby, OUR baby will be birthed in this room in the next day (hopefully not three). 

9:00pm- The resident comes in to check me and I'm at a 1 1/2cm still. She apologizes for having short fingers and having to really, really try to get to my posterior cervix. I tell her I'm grateful she doesn't have gorilla hands like the resident I had two years ago because that was awful. She inquires more about gorilla hands. They happen to be the best of friends because I'm an idiot and didn't connect the dots that he is obviously still a resident here. She tells me he is a wonderful father to four children and an excellent resident despite his hand situation. I continue to feel a chill settle in the room as I obviously am the worst person ever for not fully appreciating all that her best friend is. A med student that Sel knows is there and nice, albeit about to be super annoying. 

They jam the cervadil up there and tell me to rest up. Sel and Sarah leave with Row waaay past his bedtime. He's completely fine waving bye to me and blowing me a kiss. My worry about him missing me a bunch is obviously not a real concern. 

While they are gone I become super bitter that I am in the hospital hooked up to an IV, two monitors and KNOW I desperately need to sleep in order to have energy to push a baby out. I hate more than anything else having a site in. It seems silly, but it really is one of the most uncomfortable parts about both births. I have to pee every five seconds and need to unplug my posse of annoying beeping followers. I'm about to cry out of frustration when my RN friend from on high comes to visit. I feel like kissing her because she makes me so happy. It brought back the happy parts of Row's birth and made me feel like this wasn't going to be awful 

11:00pm- Sel comes back to stay the night with me. I'd originally insisted he and Sarah get some real rest at home, but I become grateful in a hurry he came back. He silences all the beeping and turns off all the screens. We both get ready for bed and hope we will get some sleep. 

11:30pm- I start to get what I feel like might be contractions. I've heard of people going into labor on cervadil, but am obviously not thinking it's going to happen to me because it didn't happen before. After  two uncomfortable hours, I download the contraction app I assumed I wouldn't have to (because I am again denied going into labor on my own). Sure enough I've started to have contractions about 2 minutes apart lasting 45 seconds-1 minute long. My app instructs me to head to the hospital. I want to punch it. The nurse and other people keep coming in. 

Friday 06/10

2:00am- I still can't sleep. Our med student comes in to ask if I want a popsicle. WHY would I want a popsicle at 2am? I understand she must be super bored since Sel has totally been there on the night shift, but I still want to tell her the only thing I want is for her to just get the sleep I'm missing out on in the on-call room. 

4:00am - I want to die because of my contractions, the constant peeing and beeping and vital sign taking and the fact that my site is still crazy uncomfortable. I also feel a lot of pressure to sleep and am stressing out more about the fact that I'm not. I buzz my nurse and ask for Nubain. She looks at me like I'm crazy because the monitor doesn't show any contractions despite my insistence I've had regular ones for hours now. She still delivers and I'm instantly more relaxed. 

7:00am- I'm staring at the window waiting for daylight to come and take this waste of a night off my hands. Sel has gotten maybe two hours of sleep and I've gotten essentially none. The Nubain was bliss, but the contractions were still strong enough to wake me up every time they hit. I try re-listening to my hypnobirthing relaxation track for the 16th time that night to pass the next two hours. 

9:00am- They come in to remove the cervadil. My new nurse updates them on my night and my complaint of light cramping throughout it which is why the Nubain was ordered. I glare at her for changing contractions to cramping. They check me and I pray I've made progress. THREE CENTIMETERS! I feel like cheering. The nurse stares at the monitor wondering why it didn't pick up the contractions. I want to dance around the room. I then remember how both my sister-in-laws started their most recent births at 3cm and it took me multiple hours of consistent contractions to get here. 3 cm could still mean a millennium until I see my baby girl. I morph back into my grouchy hospital self. I get to shower and eat some breakfast despite the fact that I really am not hungry and still having contractions every two minutes. I remember everyone saying how much warm water helps with contractions and look forward to spending the entire 30 minutes in there. The water doesn't seem to help at all and I just hate standing up through each contraction. 

9:30-11:00am- is sort of blurry. I remember being rude to Sel the entire time. He would try and talk me through contractions or touch me or whatever and I would get angry at him. I would then get angry with him at the next contraction when he wouldn't touch or talk to me. I have mini panic attacks every time I have to go to the bathroom in case a contraction hits while I'm on my way there. It doesn't help that I still have to unplug my hundred cords in order to make it to the bathroom. 

11:00am- I demand more Nubain. The nurse lets me know it gets less effect with each dose. I let her know at least I haven't asked for my epidural yet despite really, really wanting to. The Nubain helps. Sort of. Contractions are getting real and I am doubting my ability to go much longer without an epidural. No one has checked me so I have no idea if I'm still at 3cm with hundreds of contractions ahead or 8 cm and in transition. 

11:00am-1:30pm- Starting at 11, I make a goal to make it through 15 minutes of contractions. I reset my goal every 15 minutes to make it through another 15 minutes. I never really felt much with Rowan. I remember having some contractions, but I don't think they were particularly consistent and I never made it past 3cm without an epidural. Contractions are miserable. I was trying to think of ways to describe the sensation while going through them. It was like my stomach would start to inflate like a balloon (except more deflate I suppose). The contraction would start to come on and I would try and breathe deep and relax through it. Deep breathing only made it worse because it added pressure to my hard-as-steel stomach. How women do contractions for hours without medication blows my mind. Somehow closing my eyes and literally saying "Ow. Ouch. Owie" through each contraction seems to help. Sel is feeling distressed over not being able to help and me not letting him help at all. I feel weak and pathetic that I'm not handling this pain very well at all. At 1:30am, I plead for an epidural. 

1:30-2:00pm - Epidural or Happydural time. Bless the CNRA for being quick. I had 4 miiiiserable contractions while she was putting it in and was certain death was imminent. I became terrified while she got set up remembering stories of friends who've had really bad experiences with epidurals. Another contraction hits and I decide the risk is worth it. Another med student friend is in the room with us and I fear that he will judge Sel for marrying such a whimpering baby of a woman. 

2:40pm - The epidural is kicked in full force and I'm cracking jokes and looking at baby pictures with our med student friend. As our CNRA is leaving, I tell her I love her. I'm completely and deeply sincere when I utter those three words to her. I decide I will take a couple hour nap and hope I've progressed when I wake up. A resident checks me and I'm at 6cm! Yeah! The pain I was feeling really did mean something this time around. My nurse gets together the delivery stuff though I expect we won't need it for a few hours. She asks if she can lift my leg up on a stirrup with me turned to my side. I tell her she could literally do almost anything to me right now and I wouldn't care. I've entered the land of the overjoyed pregnant women and it's a beautiful place. After five minutes I ask her if I should feel a lot of pressure and an urge to push. She tells me that is normal and my pelvis is just widening to accommodate baby (little did I know I had seriously gone from 6cm to complete in about 5 minutes) The nurse tells me she paged the OB to come break my water and to expect a baby by 6:00pm!

3:00pm- The OB comes in and I love her right away. She is such a down-to-earth type of person despite giving a complete air of intelligence and competence. She decides to check me real quick before she puts the little hook up there and goes "You're complete!" I tell her she's a liar. She grabs a mirror and drags it over so I can see that my bag of water is literally hanging out of me. We all watch together as a contraction pushes the amniotic sac along with a little bit of Lyra's head out. I'm in disbelief. Not real. Can't be happening. We watch another painless contraction reveal her head again. We had sort of talked about Sel delivering her, but not really committed. The OB told Sel he should and I panic and tell him he better wash his hands because we are somehow having a baby RIGHT NOW. He got gowned up and my nurse, OB, and the med student shuffled around me. With Row I got to see in the mirror for maybe a minute before a hundred people blocked it during the delivery. This time is so calm, so peaceful comparatively. The OB makes sure I can see the whole time and walks Sel through the delivery. The med student offers to take pictures with Sel's phone and bless his little heart for doing so. I know people pay out the nose for birth photographers and we got some AMAZING shots from him for free. I love him. They tell me to push and I feel a little confused on what really to do. I scrunched my legs close to my chest and sort of breath through her counts despite totally breathing at my own rhythm instead of the steady counts of 10. Four "joke" pushes later and she pops right out. Watching in the mirror what happens down there is both incredible and terrifying. No wonder I'm sore down under. 

I tried to edit this, but I seriously think it is one of the coolest pictures from the whole birth. Sel is the best human alive 

3:24am- they place my beautiful, crying daughter on my chest. She cries a lot and louder than Row ever did. I worry this is a sign of her personality to come. It's so surreal that the baby that just came out is not Rowan. I love her instantly, but I also noticed a little less powerful feeling. She certainly seems smaller and is by about a half a pound (Lyra 8 lbs 6 0z compared to Rowan at 9 lbs), but the biggest difference I think is she's a little shorty compared to her bro. Rowan was 21.5 inches long which made him seem giant compared to her and she's a petite little 20 inches.  Once Row came out, I couldn't bare the thought of him not being with me the whole time. I don't know if it's just because she's our second, but I feel much more at ease with them checking her. I try to nurse her and she latches immediately. She calms down right away and we spend the next few minutes being in love. My family showed up about an hour afterward and Row wanted to hold her. He was so sweet, so gentle with her. He FREAKED out when my parents and sister tried to hold her. Hysterical crying and throwing things and yelling "MINE! SISTER!" when they tried to hold their granddaughter. Oh Row. He's going to be a great big brother. 

Here we are 24 hours after her birth! She's beautiful and gentle and so sweet. Recovery has been night and day compared to last time. I got a tiny 2nd degree compared to my 3rd degree and episotomy. We didn't sleep at all from 11pm-4am which was ironically Lyra's party time while in utero and slept like an angel from 4:00am-9:00am. She seems to have such a sweet spirit.

I wrote this all in the hospital and we've now been home for a few days. It was so wonderful to leave the hospital 24 hours after delivery versus being there an extra 4 days! We are SO lucky to have our families here helping. They have done so much for us! They cleaned our entire house - organized, deep cleaned, dishes, laundry, you name it, they did it. They've been making us all our meals, cleaning some more, playing with our energetic toddler, getting up with him early so Lyra and I can catch some extra zzz's and running errands. Everyone has been so helpful, but I worship my little sister right now. I would be a basket case without her.  I'm so crazy in love with Sel all over again. He's such an incredible dad/husband. I'm terrified of when our families leave and Sel is on a new rotation, but we're going to make it! We've got to. Lyra is continuing to be so tender and adorable. I've sadly been having awful nipple pain when she latches and went to see a lactation consultant yesterday to keep it from getting out of control like it did with Row. Here's to life in the trenches of parenting two children!  

40 Weeks and Some Change

Here we are past my due date again. I'm not surprised at all I went over, but I am surprised by how oddly peaceful I've been about it this time around. I feel physically pretty excellent still. I even ran about a mile yesterday on the outdoor track and have been walking, doing jumping jacks and squatting like it's my part-time job. I don't sleep very well, but I'm pretty sure that's the mantra of every pregnant woman in her third trimester. I've been enormously blessed to have easy pregnancies in the physical department.
I was a insane last time. Sel had research that summer which basically took a few hours everyday and I quit my job at 38 weeks. Since Row didn't come until 42 weeks, it meant Sel and I sat around for A MONTH thinking of nothing else but having a baby. We went on 3-4 "labor" walks a day, ate pineapple until my tongue was red and raw, downed spicy food and tried every other natural labor inducing method on the planet.  We were both basket cases.
This time around, we are without the luxury of sitting around staring at the empty nursery. Row keeps me on my toes all day and Sel has work plus endless studying to accomplish. The only time I start to feel crazy is during nap time or bedtime when I can just sit around and think about the baby staying in there forever.

BUT we have an end date in sight. As much as I have prayed and pleaded to go on my own, I likely won't before my induction date. I've done hoards of research on when it is still "safe" to have a baby and it tends to say after 41 weeks starts to see an increase in risks to both mother and baby. Do plenty of women go past that and have healthy babies? For sure. I obviously did. I'm not someone who would be okay being part of the percentage that end in stillbirth from going over 41 weeks though. I'm pretty sure no woman would be. I feel a little like I have to justify my agreement to being induced since there are definitely two camps on the matter. I don't want this post to turn into my thoughts on the debate, but I do feel like I need to let my future self know it was not an easy decision to decide to be induced again.  I still dream of the day when I go into labor on my own and get to spend the first part of it at home. I haaaaated being in the hospital last time and will be there for a minimum of 12 hours again. We had my OB appt yesterday and I strong-armed Sel into coming with me (Joke, he totally was all for it when I asked if he would). My wonderful friend took Row during my non-stress test and then dear Doctor told me some pretty excellent news: I was dilated to about 1 1/2cm. I never even got to 1 cm with Row after 12 hours of cervadil, a bulb catheter, and 12 hours of pitocin. Sort of a monumental moment to find out my cervix did all that work without the efforts of last time. My OB wasn't as impressed as I was since he thinks I still need to go in and have cervadil again. Major sad face. He even said it's rare for him to have to do it on a second time mom, but because my cervix is so extra special and excellent at keeping babies in... We set an official induction date for Monday with my night of cervadil starting Sunday. UGH. I just hate the idea of spending a night in the hospital hooked up to the dumb monitors and an IV for 12 hours with a prostaglandin-drenched tampon in trying to "get some rest" before I have a baby. I sleep crappy enough in my beautiful king-sized bed and now will try to sleep in an uncomfortable hospital bed with constant beeping going off. WHY IS MY CERVIX THE WORST?! ( I bet you readers are so thrilled we talk about this so much. Who doesn't want to talk about cervixes all day, everyday?)
 I got a call today from the office saying he actually made a mistake and he won't be on call until June 20th so would I be able to come in tomorrow night and start my cervadil. I'm still trying to process the change, but I'm grateful it's happening. My sister and mom were going to come up tomorrow anyway to visit and will be here for Rowan while we are at the hospital. My in-laws come in Saturday and stay until the 20th! We are so lucky to have such loving families come and help us. It brings me to tears thinking about how wonderful they all are. I was getting extra panicky about my sister having to leave before the baby came and my in-laws only being here for a few days after she came. Having her this weekend will be the absolute perfect time to arrive.

I feel like it has been a divine intervention that I didn't get to follow my mother's trend of having her first two weeks late after an awful induction to then have a baby a day early after six hours of labor that started on its own. My dad (he'll hate me for posting this because he is such an oddball about that sort of thing) found out he had a blood clot last night that stretched from his femoral artery to his ankle. If Lyra had come in the past few days, I sincerely doubt anyone would have been paying his swollen leg attention. I hate thinking about what might have happened if he hadn't been forced to the ER by my sister, mom, and hubby. Now that he's all taken care of, we can get this baby show on the road. I'm still reeling a little bit from the fact that tomorrow is my last as a mom of one. I plan to spend it doing all of Row's absolute favorite things for as long as he wants. I'll miss being a just us, but know this next adventure will be pretty spectacular all on it's own. Wish us luck! The next time I post will be a birth story!!!

Here is one of my last bump pics. I look a little in pain because Sel was trying to make me laugh and it was a little painful to watch him make the same smiling-coaxing faces he makes at our toddler at me. My sister asked me the other day if I have less body hate while pregnant and it really is true that I do. I don't feel like a sexy beast at all, but I'm certainly more gentle with my criticism while growing a human being. Too bad I likely won't be this kind to my postpartum self in the next few weeks.

38 Weeks

An incredibly rare and beautiful moment is happening right now; I'm awake before Rowan is. It's a strange thing to be able to just sit here and think about the new little one that will be in my arms in a few weeks. She has the hiccups right now and is happily (I think?) rolling around in there. Quiet moments like this are likely not going to happen much over the coming months. Somedays I feel okay about that fact, others I feel panicky about the new chapter of life about to start. 

I've become incredibly hormonal this week. This pregnancy has been so different emotionally than with Rowan. I've been pretty mellow without the intense ups and downs of last time. This week though, watch out.

I'm also so conflicted. One minute, all I want is for my water to break and get this show on the road. The next, I'm terrified and weepy at the idea that I'm so completely NOT ready for another baby. 

It was so different with preparing for our first. We had an entire room that we set up specifically for him. We went to a birth class. We spent endless hours together talking about what he would look like and what it would be like to be a parent.  This time around…Instead of spending hours sewing curtains, setting up a crib, buying wall decals and matching bedding, running my hands along the perfectly washed and hung baby boy outfits, I moved the rock'n'play into our room and called it good. Instead of registering for hundreds of baby things, we bought our solitary second baby item, a double stroller, two weeks ago. Instead of spending time having Sel feel the baby move or putting a flashlight on my belly and watching it shift around like crazy, we both look at one another with raised eyebrows during a middle of the night screaming toddler session and wonder how we are going to survive this coupled with a newborn who nurses constantly through the night. We just haven't had many things to check off of a magical "you're ready to have a baby" list this time around which makes me feel unprepared. 

Physically, it's been a weird merry-go-round too. I feel great and completely like myself most of the time. I don't feel that intense "I'm SO done" feeling that tends to hit during pregnancy. I've been vomiting and having other digestion issues lately though that we originally thought was food poisoning. I ended up going to the ER one night a few weeks ago because I was having intense abominable cramping (aka contractions) that weren't progressive. I went home from the hospital confused and still feeling so awful. I immediately threw up for the first time since having Rowan in our sink and continued to throw up for the next 48 hours. This random striking of barf has happened two other times now accompanied by endless stomach cramping and back pain. It would be a little bearable if I knew it was helping my body dilate or progress, but it's not. It's just me and my finger-tip dilated cervix being inexplicably sick. Throwing up for me is such an odd thing. Like I mentioned, I've thrown up once over the last 22-months. Before that, I'm pretty sure it was high school that was the last time. I don't barf. Even when I have felt crazy nauseous and wanted to throw up, no amount of sticking my fingers down my throat can make anything happen. When I have been getting sick like this, all I want to do is get this girl out. 

(The above was written before the appointment I just had)
I've been feeling bouts of being really down about my body. I had my OB appointment today and I'm still a fingertip dilated. My dear OB, who has been dangling induction dates in front of me like candy, let me know I wasn't a good candidate for induction until after 41 weeks. He somehow forgot that I didn't have Rowan until 42 weeks and that was after 3 days of being pumped full of drugs, having way too many things inserted downstairs, and being tethered to a marching band of machinery. It's hard not to feel like a failure again. The way some of the med staff talked to me in the hospital when I had Row couldn't have been clearer. I wasn't progressing. I was failing. I needed to "do better". Well meaning friends and family would excitedly ask if there was any news, movement, twinges that might indicate my body was actually doing something. Here we are again at that same point and I don't know if I can mentally handle it again.
Sure, something could magically change because every pregnancy is different, but it sure feels like we are on the same track here.
It hasn't helped that two disconcerting things have happened to me this week. At the gym, a kind woman who I had met the previous week told me she felt inspired by the spirit that the baby and I would have complications and she asked if she could pray for me. I was standing there in my sports bra and said, "Of course. Thank you!". She then sidled up to my bare belly, put her hand on there, closed her eyes and started praying that we would be healthy. I was so shaken by it and kept crying thinking maybe this crazy, kind lady actually had been inspired and something bad was going to happen to Lyra. This morning, Rowan randomly turned to my belly waved bye-bye then hugged it like he was saying goodbye. I asked him where baby sister was going and he just smiled and started watching baby signing time again.
Also, if you haven't had a baby at 42 weeks, you don't get to tell someone babies come when they are supposed to. It's actually a written law and I would hate to call the cops on you

35 Weeks

I've come to mile 18 and realized I still have 8.2 miles left with 4 of those being uphill.
The pregnancy marathon wall.
I don't remember feeling this way until about week 39 with Rowan sooo the next 5 weeks (please let it be 5 and not 7) should be interesting.
I've been weirdly nauseous/hungry most of the day, have started getting headaches, cramping, and feel dizzy if I move faster than a sedated sloth.
Today, however, I'm feeling better than I have the past few days. Bless this trend to continue.
I had my OB appointment today and little miss long legs is just under 7 lbs. I remember being unduly frightened when the tech exclaimed how giant Rowan was, but I don't feel like Lyra is going to be a giant ten pounder. I was expecting my bp to be high or something to explain why I feel so crummy, but it was 107/64. My OB told me the last few weeks of pregnancy are just hard sometimes. He remembers from all the times he's been pregnant. I also had to break his poor little heart and tell him Sel has not picked OB. I've been not completely lying to him every time he asks and just saying Sel is undecided still. I accidentally let it slip at this appointment that he scored an away rotation in anesthesia at my OB's old stomping grounds. He took it a little personally and was noticeably distant the rest of the appointment. I couldn't have just kept my mouth shut, given him false hope for the next few weeks and told him after she was born that OB is not Sel's future career path. He didn't even offer me a sucker when I left.

I was just telling myself how much smaller I feel than last time until I started trying to take a dumb pregnancy selfle and was like 'WHOA, girl, you're gigantic!' It must be her legs. Most of her body was measuring a few days to a week ahead of schedule except her legs. Her legs were measuring at 38 weeks 5 days. I'm not even sure how they can estimate that considering they are likely folded up pretty nicely in there, but they have been telling us at every ultrasound that her lower limbs are racing ahead of her body. I'll be interested to see if she really is daughter-long-legs or just a normally proportioned baby. Rowan does have long arms/legs and gigantic paws/feet compared to the rest of his body, so maybe that's just the fate of these two kiddos.
Little girl is blissfully head down and ready to go. The tech had a hard time measuring her head because she's nestled so nice and low in my pelvis. I've heard that one before, Miss False Hope Giver. Rowan was pretty low too and it made zero difference in helping him get out relatively on time despite the assurance from this same tech that it was a sign from the pregnancy gods that I wouldn't be pregnant for the next 1257 days.
I really know I shouldn't let myself have so much anxiety about being induced again/going over, but my crazy can't help it. I get hot flashes just thinking about being pregnant still in 7 weeks and then spending a bajillion days trying to evacuate her. It's worse this time around because the idea of being away from Rowan for a full week makes me want to cry. That little guy needs me and I for sure need him.
 A friend of mine mentioned hypnobirthing a few weeks ago and I recently read the book. I actually have a cousin who had her son using it and swears by it. I think I got turned on to it a little too late perhaps, but I have been doing my little rainbow relaxation CD everyday and am hoping it will help me during labor. If not, I'm pretty sure it's helping me stress less about never going into labor on my own.  I was telling my worries to an elderly woman at the gym the other day about going over and got handed a full plate of humility. This poor girl went 37 days over her due date with her first and averaged 24 days over on her following three pregnancies. It was before the time of induction for the first few and they just couldn't get her to go into labor when induction finally was a thing. 37 days everyone. Over a MONTH past your due date. My poor MIL had a similar thing happen with 3 of her 4 too. If they can go a month past their due dates, I can handle two weeks again, right? Right.
I think we are mostly ready for her arrival. It feels weird to not have as much stuff to get together this time around aka nothing to get together. The only thing we've really needed to buy is a double stroller (check!) and another rocking chair. Even though my body is starting to fall apart, I don't feel mentally ready for her to come just yet. I am so, so SO excited to meet her face to face, but I'm also dreading the lack of sleep. I haven't slept through the night in about two years and I remember just how tired I was after Rowan. It's a level of exhaustion I've tried desperately to forget over the past few months. I was able to take naps throughout the day when Row was a newbie, but obviously that isn't going to be an option with a toddler in tow. Hopefully her newborn glow and Row filling the role as adorable big brother will be enough to sustain me for the next two years of no sleep.

The pictures I tried to take for this month are not so great. SO here's some of the handsome boys in my life.

A really, really sweet friend gave me a pedicure a few weeks ago and Rowan has been obsessed with the idea ever since he watched her lean over my disgusting feet for two hours. 

Playing at the park

That's tape. He destroyed it while I was cleaning up paint he threw on the walls in the other room. One small disaster after another with this 21-month old. 

He's obsessed with her clothes. He tried to squeeze a newborn onsie on when I told him to put his clothes on. 

31 Weeks

I feel like I should put a brief disclaimer on this post since I know my family members read it (most notably my parents) who might find it off color/inappropriate/something they defs don't want to know much about. They created this monster that I am though. Ever talked to my mom? She isn't really ever what I would call appropriate in her humor sooo her fault. 

2 more months! Hopefully! My greatest wish is to have a healthy baby followed by a very great wish to have my baby before 42 weeks and without being induced. A girl can dream, right? 

I've been getting so anxious about not wanting to be induced again and I can't help this pregnancy brain spiral. I mean, is it really so much to ask that my body cooperate to some degree this time? 

It is very rare for me to ever exclaim "TMI"! I am sort of a "NEI" aka Not Enough Information type of gal. I think it makes me nothing short of sexy. Funny story, I actually had a guy tell me once I was really attractive until I started talking. I overshare because I care. You are a lucky blog reader that gets to know how much I care about you by reading about all the beautiful details of my pregnancy. Before being pregnant with Lyra, I never had a UTI, yeast infection or any form of downstairs sadness. Since being pregnant, I've had a UTI, vaginosis, and now a yeast infection. Is vaginosis not the worst named infection? Ugh. At my OB appointment yesterday, the nurse let me know I had WBC's in my urine and asked if I was having any trouble down there. I'd already called to the office what I felt was too many time complaining of unpleasantness in the Southern region of my body and was planning on bringing it up with the OB that day. She asked if I wanted to have a speculum/swap. Did I want to? Not particularly. Does anyone want a weird silvery shoe thing shoved up their parts? I told her I did want a test done anyway. 

I had brought Rowan along because these appointments are generally 7 minutes long. I pee in a cup, stand on the scale, get my blood pressure taken and then listen to my OB for four minutes ask questions about Sel and tell me how great a doctor he is going to be and how he should be an OB. I agree with my OB on the points of Sel being great and a future doc that will rival Dr. 902010. He usually asks me as an afterthought at the end how I'm feeling. I appreciate the question and luckily the answer is generally great! This time around he asked what Sel thought was wrong with my lady parts. I wavered between responding completely inappropriately with "I think he thinks they are pretty decent since I'm pregnant with his second child" but I realized he was asking what Sel's medical opinion was of why I keep getting infections. He was proud that Sel had correctly assumed a yeast infection. I'm so glad my OB and my husband have such a special bond. It makes me feel really confident that my OB will always have my best interests in mind because he will be worried that Sel might be upset if he treats his wife poorly. 

In other great news, I lost weight from my last appointment and my blood pressure dropped too! I've really been working hard the last two weeks at eating healthy because I was doing really bad for a while there. After the giant Easter binge, I was getting way too close to what I was when I delivered Rowan. I've been really lucky to be able to workout for at least 30 minutes 6 days/week and our house is devoid of anything even remotely delicious. We had one box of sugar cereal that was "for an art project". About one cup of it did get used in the making of a cereal rainbow, but the many other cups were mostly going into my mouth. Now all we have is oatmeal, corn chex and plain cheerios. Rowan and I were both a little upset the first few days before realizing it really was better for both of us. 

We acquired some adorable baby girl clothes the past few weeks. Our friends and family are so generous! We are more indebted to these angelic people than America is to China. I feel so very blessed and a little bit tearful. Today I started crying because I saw Rowan sitting at our table all by himself and it made me think about my baby someday eating alone in a Jr. High cafeteria. I  had to hide my face because he became so concerned on why I was bawling. It is an incredibly sad thought, right? Your little toddler sitting alone because nobody will sit with him? Typing it out here is making me cry again. 

I am getting reals excited to meet this little girl! I can't wait to hold a sweet newborn again. To feel her silky soft skin against mine and touch her extra soft hair. I looove how new babies' mouths hang open when they are asleep. Baby lips are so precious! I mean, what part about a baby isn't? We even find baby butts adorable. They say when you have a baby in June, you're a Mom all your life. Or you know, whatever month you birth a baby. I can't stop singing that song lately and most people just look at me really weird. I doubt they act weird because I'm a horrible singer or because I randomly busted out into song during a normal conversation or that I drastically altered the lyrics. People just don't know their musicals these days. 

I mean, isn't that the most precious little outfit you've ever seen?

I CAN'T WAIT TO DRESS A BABY AGAIN! It required all caps there.  Getting Rowan dressed is a freaking nightmare lately. It takes a solid ten minutes of chasing him around and pinning him down. I also don't always get to pick what he wears anymore because he's starting to form strong opinions in that arena too. I can't wait to dress a little girl in all these adorable girly clothes. I still solidly hold my belief that baby boy clothes are equally as cute as girl clothes (baby bow ties, suspenders, and those darn newsie hats people!C'mon ) but I am way excited to have the best of both worlds here. 

My resident photographer is on call tonight so I got to take pictures of myself. Does anyone else feel like a complete idiot getting their picture taken? When you're taking a selfie you're just smiling dumbly at yourself. I know the solution would be to just not document every waking second of my life, but I really have liked looking back at pictures of me pregnant with Rowan and I'm sure I'll be sad if I don't do it this time around too. 

I look crazy because I actually am crazy. 

I could write a whole giant post about this, but I am going to squeeze it in here. There is something about being pregnant that makes me so confident and proud of my body. I definitely have moments where I feel like a giant hippo, but it's also such a special time of body pride for me. I'm actually gaining weight by the day, but that's what I'm supposed to do. I am growing a heart, a brain, a set of lungs, an entire human being. I don't have to do anything but keep breathing and eating in order for this baby to develop everything it needs to live on it's own. I have far too many friends who suffer from infertility and would love to complain about pregnancy symptoms. Those friends of mine are always on my mind and I try to think of them every time I feel like moaning about the injustice of sleeping with five body pillows. 

I also think back about how uncomfortable I was with my body in high school which is arguably the best I've looked. I was working out really hard everyday for track/cross country and obsessing about every morsel of food I was eating. I looked pretty darn good and I was miserable. I remember wishing so hard for a different body and practically hyperventilating at the thought of changing clothes in front of my teammates (who are likely some of the most beautiful people you've ever seen). I cared sooo much about how I looked. I probably didn't look like I did because I dressed like a homeless person, but I put thought into precisely how much of a runway ready hobo I wanted to look like. 

I now have a giant bowling ball of a belly, stretch marks, and can make an impressive amount of chins if I tilt my head down far enough. I wear makeup maybe once or twice a week. I actually lost my mascara a few weeks ago and keep putting off spending the $7.00 for a new one. You can spot my hair in a ponytail most days of the week. I get naked in front of strangers five days a week at the gym and don't care at all. Most of my gym friends are usually 80+ years old and not world's most gorgeous runners, but still a big step here that I don't mind baring it all. I find myself so much happier NOT caring. Someone asked me if I felt like I was letting myself go (people are really sweet sometimes) and I told them I felt like I was finally finding myself instead. Why would I care if anyone but Sel finds me attractive? Are there certainly perks awarded to those who are good-looking? For sure. Pick up Blink by my homeboy Malcolm Gladwell and read all about it. I used to spend a good portion of our first year of marriage feeling so self-conscious about my appearance and expecting Sel to pay me endless and personalized compliments  every five seconds to make me feel super good about myself. If he said someone was good looking, I immediately evaluated every aspect of that girl noting that is how Sel wished I looked. Can I please murder that past me? Gah. It's so much nicer for Sel (I think. I haven't asked him recently) to not have a wife who is so self-conscious. Now I just feel healthy, happy and am growing gradually more confident with who I am. I thank pregnancy and motherhood for making me realize my body is nothing short of a miracle machine. 

That was really, really long and I hate how many things I put in parentheses, but I luckily am not looking to be world's most attractive, pregnant author anytime soon. 

20 Questions about a 20-Month Old

Rowboat is 20-months old! Since he loves to laugh and play games, I figured he would appreciate this nod to one of the games my sister and I would play on long road trips. 

1. Is it no longer talking in a long-forgotten Bulgarian dialect?

2. Does it shock you daily by saying a growing number of distinguishable words in it's native tongue? 

3. Does it shove things it doesn't want (i.e. food, toys, diapers, clothes) away with the back of it's hand because it is so disgusted by whatever is offered it can't even palm it away? 

4. Does it talk excitedly about cars and trains 2-3 hours a day?

5. Does it spend 3/4 of it's waking hours playing basketball?

6. Does it's current hierarchy to things loved go as follows: baseball, football, basketball, Ky-ky, cheese?

7. Would you say it's daily diet is comprised of 60% cheese? 

8. Is it finally eating a good variety of fruits and vegetables regardless of it's excessive consumption of cheese? 

9. Has it eaten dad's world famous homemade guacamole (pip aka dip) for dinner three nights this week?

10. Can it entertain itself with happy sound effects, animation, and some form of imaginary dialogue between toys for about 30 minutes at a time?

11. Are tantrums mercifully on a decline now that it's intellectual abilities are skyrocketing?

12. Did it go pee-pee in the potty for the first time all by itself today? 

13. Did it also miss the toilet a bit and pee on mom's knee?

14. Will it still probably be a long time before it goes to the bathroom on it's own and doesn't subject it's mom to pinning a screaming creature down to wipe poop off it's tush?

15. Are it's current favorite stories Once Upon a Potty, Jungle Book, The Tushy Book, Skunk Dunk, and Things that Go? 

16.  If you ask it what color of something it wants, does it always request 'blue' even if it means another color?

17. Is it the sweetest thing to ever walk the planet and plants kisses on you and it's baby sister every hour?

18. Does it ever make you want to cry when you look at it because it is So. Darn. Handsome? 

19. Are you not-so-secretly jealous of it's perfect hair that somehow grows in with perfect layers, waves, and highlights?

20. Do you love this thing more and more everyday and are continually convinced you are the most blessed person alive to have it as your own?

Answer Key to Questions 1-20: Yes

Bonus Questions:

21. Does it refer to itself as "Row row"
22. Does it say "Curse!" when it misses a basket (I think this is because I always say "so close" but the idea that he is saying a "curse" word is hilarious)
23. Does he throw his hands up at the end of a prayer every time and say "MEN!"
24. Does it want to read itself a story at bedtime and have it's parents sit on the floor?

We have loved the warmer Toledo weather! Rowan has spent every possible day outside. 

His number one love 

St. Patty's day feast of green apples, kiwi, and green spaghetti 

We LOVE this park sooo much! 

He could play with the trains for a full day if I let him 

He got a t-ball from the Easter Bunny this year and LOVES it! Obviously 

Turns out the offspring of Angela and Dwight from the office looks a lot like Rowan. 

He was so spoiled at my aunts house this year for Easter. Both Mimi & Papa and his great aunts loaded him up with gifts and chocolate. They were both kind enough to not overwhelm the addict with a massive dose and instead gave other great new loves: chalk, Frog Bear, cars/trucks, and finger paint. He LOVED the Easter egg hunts they planned. HE's one lucky, loved little kid. 

27 Weeks

Aw, the third trimester has arrived. I remember getting here my last time around and thinking "WOW! It's so close! I'm having a baby so soon".  What a naive little thing I was. The third trimester is a lot like the third Lord of the Rings movie. You keep thinking you're close to the end, but really you still have an hour of video coming at you with a bunch of parts that seem like good endings. The big difference here is that watching LOTR for an extra hour is all things awesome while watching yourself become increasingly large and uncomfortable is much less entertaining. 

I do really love how fun it is to feel a human being roll around inside my belly. The bigger they get (and me) the more amazed I am that there is someone in there. 

I am way bigger than last time which is already causing a bit of anxiety over here. I don't weigh anymore than I did at this point, but that could easily change. I'm sooo hungry this time around. I distinctly remember having a reemergence of food hate in the third trimester with Row. If only that could happen now. I have dreams about food (mostly Cafe Rio) and wake up depressed when I realized it was all a cruel trick and Cafe Rio is still hundreds of miles away.I got SO BIG with Rowan. So big. It didn't help that he took an extra two weeks to check out. The ability to further the human race by forgetting practically everything has certainly taken effect here except in that category. I remember how miserable, whiny, cranky and crazy I was those two weeks past my due date. Nobody liked that girl. Let's do me a solid here little one and come relatively close to on time. 

  On the left is me at 30 weeks with Rowan and the right is me at 27 weeks with Lyra. 

I have to pee all the time. At night, I visit that porcelain throne at least three times. I am slowly convincing Sel to let me get a chamber pot. It would be the best gift he's ever given me. Nothing says love like "Here baby! Now you don't have to walk those miserable ten feet to the bathroom all night long" 

Sel and Rowan got to come with me to my last ultrasound. It was amazing! Did you know they have something called 4D now? Yeah. It's a live action shot of your baby. A little Morgan Freeman appears at the bottom of the screen and narrates everything that your baby is doing. "As you can see here, the magnificent daughter you are carrying is gently swallowing amniotic fluid." 

She was really active during it and Rowan melted my heart for the first half of it. As soon as she popped her cute face up on the screen, he started waving and saying "HI!" He is so excited for baby sister to get here. He always wants to kiss my belly and say hey to his favorite gal. I'm so glad he is already forming a connection with this little one. Hopefully it will mean he won't attack her with our plethora of Nerf weaponry while she's a helpless newborn. 

He loves to take "Baby Sister" doll and help her do things. 

While I know he's pumped to get a lil sis, he would love if I could provide a big sister (or brother) instead. He adores this one here. 

She seems shy to me. I don't know if that's real or not. I remember when Row captured my heart during his ultrasound by sucking his little lips in 3D. Hers was different than I expected. I fell in love with the picture of her covering her face with her hands. I don't know how to explain it, but the idea that she didn't want us to look at her made me want to hug her. She also tends to only move around when it's quiet and I'm alone. Every time she starts kicking and I have Sel touch my belly, she stops. I can't wait to see what she looks like and what her personality is like. This game doesn't seem like it will ever get old! 

At first, I thought Row and Lyra look so different. Now I go back and forth. There are for sure some big similarities and differences. 

This is my love her forever picture. She's just so tender! 

I had a two week stretch where I  bawled my eyes out if it looked like I wasn't going to get a nap. Thankfully I haven't felt that way everyday, but it is already making me super nervous for how I will cope with a newborn and toddler sleep schedule. I am fairly certain it will be a daily battle to not fall apart. No sleep is a pretty magnificent form of torture. I did feel an amazing blessing happen this last Sunday. Rowan is cutting some teeth which means he wakes up crying every 2-2.5 hours. We had just gotten to the point of sleeping completely through the night! (Cause that boy is officially weaned as of his 19-month birthday! Can I get a holla!! I'm so glad it happened naturally for the most part. I sometimes miss it when I know it would be such an easy comfort to him while teething or when he's really sad, but we are slowly figuring out other ways to calm him down) He woke up at 5am and was not going back to sleep for anything. I felt like crying I was so tired but said a little prayer that I would have patience and compassion for my poor little guy. A true miracle happened later while he was throwing a MASSIVE tantrum. I was calm! It was such a huge answer to my prayer. I keep turning back to that when I start to dread the upcoming stretch of never sleeping again for a year. I'll get the help I need to survive. So many prayers were answered by others those first few weeks/months. 

What else? My pants still fall off my butt every five seconds. I don't understand how my bum is turning into a pancake while my hips are expanding at an alarming rate. I got the King bum (which means you have no derriere at all) but I swear it's never been this pathetically flat. Just when behinds are all the rage, mine is waving a quick goodbye. My sadness is much more for the loss of pants though. A few times I've been walking around in public with my pants mid-thigh. I can't get them to stay on because a belt is out of the question and I can't get tighter maternity pants because they would still smoosh my belly. My dream of joining a nudist colony is soon to be fulfilled. 

Special thanks to my pro photographer for making me look super fly.