Ugh! This baby finally came out!

Here I am! Don't I look pretty after birthing my baby?


My poor little guy was a little purple from the fast decent out of mommy.



Well, Owen Henry was born on May 26th, at 9:06 am. He weighed 8 lbs. 3 oz. and was 20 inches long.

It was a labor that I will never forget, for all the trouble it gave me seeming never to start! It was so fast and intense! I couldn't sleep that night, and I was wake at 3 am eating Dorito's Chips. I was feeling some contractions but I figured that this was just some more false labor. So I just continued eating my chips and read a magazine. After a time, the contractions were getting a little annoying, so I decided to take a bath. That was pretty nice, the contractions seemed to stop and I thought, well now I can go to bed.

I was toweling dry when the contractions returned. I struggled into bed, hoping that laying down would lessen things... only, it got worse. So I got up again. At this point, I am on all fours, on the floor, pretty much just panting through some painful contractions. I can't move, can't talk. IT HURTS!

This must be it! Yay! So we grab up all of our stuff, get Paddy dressed, call the hospital and then Jackie--she's the only one I can handle calling since the pain is too hard to talk through.

We arrived at the hospital at around 5 am, got checked into a room, again, and waited. The sisters arrived, then my mother... The nurse checked on me from time to time.

I was going a bit crazy. It hurt and I wasn't handling it as well as I did with Padraic. I was unfocused, and I guess unprepared. All that false labor is to blame I think. Thank God for my sister Jackie, though. She kept me focused. Made sure I was eating my ice chips, wiping my brow with a cool wash cloth, reminding me to breathe during contractions--otherwise I'd just forget and hold my breath. Did I already mention that IT HURT?! Poor Terry, I am surprised that I didn't permanently bruise his shoulder where I had a death grip during contractions.

Anyhow, things were moving along, FAST. The nurse kept telling me that I could get something for the pain if I wanted. But heck, I didn't know what I wanted, I was so out of it. It was finally Jackie who talked me into accepting what the nurse was offering. I remember thinking and saying that I just couldn't do this anymore, I was exasperated at the pain, and I am sure that I remember uttering a few swear words! But boy, was I happy when I got that little bit of pain meds! I remember being a little 'dopey' and sappily thanking Jackie for getting me to take it. So I had a bit of a reprieve from the intensity.

Towards the end, I was having a very hard time not to push. The pressure was just so intense. I couldn't ignore it and with every contraction I had to battle not to give into the urge to push...I didn't always win. Of course, the nurses kept telling me not to push. I remember thinking, "Are you crazy!?" They'd check me, and tell me that I wasn't quite ready. I kept asking for the doctor to come. I told them, "it's time. I HAVE to push!" Finally, after I asked and asked, the doctor did come in and that was that. He told the nurses to get ready but they weren't, something from their cart was missing. The Doctor said they'd better get it, because we were having a baby, right NOW.

And there he was, after just a few hard pushes, Owen was born. The doctor asked me what his name was, but I was so out of it, I couldn't answer. I could barely keep my eyes open to even look at my little baby, much let speak his name. The next hour or so was just a blur for me.

But no matter. My baby finally did arrive and he's wonderful!

More of my new baby

My new baby

Oh, brother... A False Alarm!

Here I am in the hospital, Sunday night and early morning Monday, with what we thought was REAL labor. Things started out well, contractions were happening, I was progressing...Then...things started to slow down. The contractions were coming farther apart and were not painful at all. Really kinda cheesy I'd say. Then everything just stopped. No more contractions, no more progress. So, at 3'ish am, they sent us home.

Oh, boy...talk about disappointment! We were fully prepared for the baby to "come out". Padraic was sent to stay with Grandma and Grandpa, and he knew that when he saw Mommy next, we would have a new baby. I felt bad for the little guy. Grandma brought him home in the morning and he took one look at me and started to tug me into either bedroom. He was in search of the baby in either the crib or the playpen. So I had to explain that the baby was not ready to come out and the nurses sent us home. "See my tummy," I said to him, "the baby is still in there." We still have to wait. Padraic took it well, really. Better than Terry and I, of course. It was such a let down for us. If I was the type, I'd would have screamed and pulled out my hair in frustration. As it was, I just grumbled about it and vowed to talk it all over with my doctor on Wednesday at my next appointment, since it was a different doctor on-call that night at the hospital.

Now, I had that appointment today. The first thing my doctor said to me was "We should talk about how you feel about labor induction." Just what I wanted to hear, let me tell you. If she had not brought it up, I certainly would have. I do NOT wish to wait until a week, or two, after my due date for this little guy/gal to decide to come out! I am all for laboring naturally, as I did last time, but when it comes to labor that takes forever to actually start, well that's a whole different story where I am concerned. I am full term, baby is healthy, so I have no wish to wait around.

Here's my current theory about this: This baby just wants everyone, especially me, know that he/she is MY child. If you know me at all, you should know how willful and, yes, stubborn I am. I have been known to dictate to the weather and have it obey my will. Don't believe me, just ask my dad--he'll tell you. It's one of his favorite stories about me! Well, this child is already trying to enforce his own will on me, and I've about had it. Listen up, little one... I am MOM! You WILL come out, and it better be soon, OR ELSE! Haha! Anyone think this baby will listen?! I guess we'll see.

8 months

Are we not just too cute!?



Yep, you read that right. I am 8 months along now. And, of course, I still get all those comments about not looking it. Mostly, I just reply with, "Yes, I know... I am lucky that way." But inside I am really thinking this: "Will you just stop commenting about the size of my belly already?" I mean, really. I may not show as most normal women do, but you do not hear me going around to all those ladies and saying, "Wow! You are just so HUGE! I never looked like that when I was pregnant!" How rude that would be. But do not worry about me... I'll get over it. It is just a fact of my life. Just as all the comments I get about looking like I am a teenager still, is a fact of my life.

I am not complaining... I think it a great blessing that I can look so good pregnant and that I am young looking. When I get into my 40's and beyond, I am sure that I will still look young--then all the comments I get will be flattering instead of annoying!

So...how am I feeling? I was reading my post about being 6 months pregnant, and I mentioned that I felt 9 months at the time, that I felt like I was carrying around a basketball. Well, now I feel like I am carrying a BOWLING ball! I was walking around the other day and the weight of my belly was just horrendous! I had difficulty getting through my shopping. It felt like the weight of the world was trying to press me down into the ground! Made me wish I was in space, floating around weightlessly.

This pregnancy has been so different from my first one. That first one, with Padraic, was just a breeze compared to this one. This time, everything that is or can be a pregnancy symptom, I have experienced. Extreme sickness, extreme tiredness, backaches, feet swelling, shortness of breath, waddling for goodness sakes!, ligament pain and all that! No wonder I am so impatient to get the the baby part!

But I can rest in the knowledge that my time is coming very soon. I do not have too long to wait now. Thank goodness!

The countdown

52 days, or if you rather-- 7 1/2 weeks, until my due date!

I am impatient as ever.... I want to be done with being pregnant and just get to the baby part already!

How's this for 6 months?

I snapped these photo's today. I know, I know--I do not look like I should be a full six months by the size of me, but believe me, I am! Someone recently asked me if I at least felt VERY pregnant, that being the important question. If you FEEL like you are carrying around a basketball, then that's all that really matters.

Well, I FEEL more like 9 months pregnant! I can't sleep at night, my back always hurts, the muscles and ligaments holding up my uterus feel as if they are about to bust, I have a hard time putting on socks and shoes (since I can't bend over well), I have to ROLL myself out of bed or out of a chair... the list goes on.

It is too bad that I can not capture on a photo all the kicks, punches, squirming and rolling that my baby does all day long. This little one is so ferocious that I am sure people observant enough could witness his (or her) movements. Padraic and Terry sure get a 'kick' out of feeling the kicks!

Even though I can now enjoy being pregnant, since all my sickness is gone, I am still very anxious to have my baby. Impatient, you could call me. It must be because I enjoy babies so very much and love being a mom. May 24th, hurry up and get here already!

A hot debate

The hot topic right now is whether I am having a boy or a girl. There are no shortage of opinions, that's for sure. I, as most of you all know, want another boy. Padraic wants a brother. Then there is Grandma Linda who wants a girl, Aunt Penny's guess is for a girl and Colleen wants a girl.

I am comming to dread the inevitable question--"Do you know what you are having?"-- because I am so disappointed at not knowing. Following this question I am offered one's guess of the sex and an opinion on who's best--a boy or a girl and why. This is the hot debate that I'd really rather do without. Some people can understand my veiws and yet others think I am crazy and have a bad attitude.

You see, I'd not only prefer to have another boy, I really don't have any desire to ever have a girl. Mother's of boys can fully understand this. It's the mother's that have girls that just don't get it. I love having a son. I have had so much fun raising a boy. I like to think that I am raising a future man and shaping that man into a gentleman--into a breed that seems much deminished from previous generations.

I read an artical today written by a mother of 2 boys and she had this to say: "I am free to have fun with the reality of boys, their hit-and-run hugs, their take-no-prisoners play. I hope to show them, by what kind of woman I strive to be, that they can love strong woman and remain strong men. Maybe someday, two very lucky girls will grow up to meet my sons and then I can always fantasize about granddaughters."

Well said and I agree.

Not to say that I have no love for girls. I know of a few (2or 3) girls that I could happily 'adopt', but I know many more that I find extremely difficult. I am a 'girl' so I can say this of my sex--Girls are almost always brats, in some form or another. I think it's just hardwired into our make-up. Sometimes we outgrow it, sometimes not and sometimes we choose to change ourselves for the better. Girls can be sweet and loving one momment, then nasty, short-tempered, talking back, sassy little creatures the next. I know--as a girl I was just this way.

For some, I'd say that the good times are what they look forward to with girls. As for me, I'd just prefer not to deal with the theatrics of raising a girl at all. Give me the rough-and-tummble boys, who fall and break bones, get into all sorts of scrapes, who do not cry about "My friend won't play with me, or talk to me...", the boys who in quiet times come to cuddle and hug. That's my ideal.

Of course, I may yet get my chance at that 'dramatic' girl, no matter what my preferences are. And that's okay. God has already planned and created my next child. If I am blessed with another boy, great. I know I'll love him as will his father and big brother. But if God blesses me with a girl instead, I will be just as happy, whether she is 'bratty' or really sweet. I know I will love being her mother just as much as I love being Padraic's mother.

Mystery baby

Today I had a doctor's appointment for an ultrasound to see our new baby. We ended up being able to see everything but what we really wanted to see--the baby's boy or girl parts! So our baby is still a mystery to us. I am still hopeful that I might be blessed with another boy to love. Padraic, of course, insists that he will get a little brother. Though, boy or girl, this next child will be a blessing no matter what, as children always are.