Finley-isms - Part 3

Oh Finley.  You make me smile :)

More of your "isms" -

• brapes = grapes
• mato = tomato 
• You are still a fabulous counter, but you always insist that there are actually more than there really are.  I think you just like to count out loud.
• Him mizing at me!!!  = he's smiling at me. 
• I do it all myself.  
• You have LOTS of "best frayands..."  
• Bistol
• Harlyn
• Kitty (JoJo's cat)
• Baby brudder
• Mommy
• Ketchup = checkup 
• Sprinkles = brinkles 
• Sparkle = barkle 
• You love your princess movies.  You have nearly memorized Cinderella, Beauty and the Beast, and Little Mermaid. 
• Speaking of the Little Mermaid, the other day, you sat down at lunch at a restaurant, lifted up the fork, and proudly announced, "Mommy, wook!  It a dinglehopper!"  HILARIOUS! 

• I will never tire of hearing your sweet voice.  Okay, maybe when you are whining or trying to talk to me when it is WAY past your bedtime :)

• 
  

Kenton's Birth Story - SUPER LONG

Our sweet little man is already two months old close to six months old, so I figured I had better jot down the high points of his birth.

THIS IS A LENGTHY POST...consider yourself warned.  I had planned to split it into multiple, shorter posts, but there was never really a clean place to split the story.  Well, in my detail-oriented mind at least.

Hmmmm....where to start.

From the very beginning of this pregnancy, I already had fears about the delivery because of my experience with Finley.  Sparing the details at this time, my labor and delivery in 2012 basically had every intervention possible, including pitocin, a cervical balloon, an epidural, and a vacuum extractor.  I vividly remember one of my nurses telling me that had I had any other doctor, I would have been sent for an emergency c-section long before my doctor even thought about it.  However, we ended up with a vaginal birth in the end.  And with all of those interventions and a 22.5 hour labor, I had some complications after delivery that lasted for a very long time.

That being said, I went into this pregnancy and this new doctor's office with confidence that we would not repeat what happened with Finley.  My midwife, after hearing my much more detailed delivery and postpartum story, decided that we would do a growth scan on this baby at 37 or 38 weeks.

Fast forward to the end of February.  At my 37 week appointment, we had a growth scan.  My neighbor, who is a pediatric ICU nurse, came with me.  She caught on to the numbers faster than I did, but the ultrasound tech was guessing that our sweet baby boy was already 9 pounds 8 ounces at 37 weeks.  She looked at me with pity and said she would give this information to my midwife.

The midwife had the same expression on her face as the ultrasound tech.  They labeled this as fetal macrosomia, or large birth weight.  They immediately started asking me if I wanted to go ahead and schedule a c-section.  We (Heath and I) both had agreed to see the doctor to explore our options.  The midwife also mentioned that we could strip my membranes at 38 weeks, but that it wasn't a guarantee to kick-start labor.  It also could result in the need for an intervention such as pitocin if it didn't work.

We had really tried to make this pregnancy different than Finley's, mostly in terms of education and such.  We signed up for childbirth classes, which we never did with Finley.  We hired a doula and were really looking forward to a more natural childbirth experience.  When we met with our actual OBGYN just a few days later, she discussed the risks of a natural childbirth as well as a c-section.  I cried during the entire appointment, and she thought I was crazy.  They talked about the increased risks of shoulder dystocia if we had a natural vaginal delivery, but also the risks of a major surgery.  She mentioned being induced at 39 weeks, but again, we wanted to avoid interventions, simply because one begets another.  We left that appointment without any clear decisions, but were still leaning toward attempting a natural delivery.

I came home and started doing my research.  Let me tell you, the Internet can be a very scary and dangerous place for someone like me who wants answers and wants to know that everything will be okay.  I joined the ICAN group in my community (International Cesarean Awareness Network) and began dialoguing with other moms in the area.  They shared with me how those growth scans can be so inaccurate, especially this late in the game, and shared personal stories of how their babies arrived weighing much less than what the scan said.

We went to our 38 week appointment and our midwife encouraged us by saying that there would be clear signs in labor that the baby wasn't going to be able to make it naturally or that my labor would stall out, and we would know that a c-section was the answer.  She said she thought it was possible to do it naturally, so we continued with that plan.

At the 39 week appointment, they did the routine cervical check, and I was barely at 1 cm.  We desperately wanted to have this baby naturally without forcing him to come when he wasn't ready.  We declined the offer to induce, and continued to wait.

On Tuesday, March 10, I woke up around 8 am with contractions, something I never experienced with Finley.  They were coming pretty quickly, every three minutes, but weren't so strong that I couldn't move or talk.  We went about our normal activities, and already had my 40 week appointment scheduled for that afternoon.  We drove to the hospital (our doctor's office is part of the hospital) and had our bags packed just in case they said it was baby time.  One of our midwives met with us and did a cervical check, only to find that I was at 2 cm and not completely effaced.  She said we could go home and try to come back in a few hours to see if they would admit me.  But first, she wanted to do another growth scan.  By this time, the office was basically empty, except for us.  They were preparing for a staff meeting, but the ultrasound tech agreed to see us.

I knew immediately that something wasn't "good" in her eyes.  She left the room and said she wanted to get the midwife.  When she returned, she not only brought a midwife, but another doctor in our practice.  He was the on-call doctor for the evening.  After reviewing the scan, they were estimating that the baby was 10 pounds 8 ounces.  The on-call doctor introduced himself and said he would be at the hospital that night if we ended up being admitted.  He shared his concerns and said that he didn't really feel comfortable allowing me to labor and try to deliver naturally.  He recommended the c-section and I immediately started crying.  He began to discuss his concerns about the risks of shoulder dystocia for the baby.  He asked me to fast forward five years, to our baby's 5th birthday party.  He wanted me to picture my healthy baby running around with full use of his arms, and to ask if the c-section would really be that big of a deal in five years.  He then painted another picture of my sweet baby boy at his 5th birthday party with a severe physical impairment, all because I desperately didn't want the c-section.  He just wanted to put things in perspective for me, which led to more tears.

We probably sat in that room for 45 minutes, me crying and Heath trying to help me pull it together.  We called our doula and talked with her.  We still felt encouraged that we could try this the way we wanted.  So, we left the hospital and returned home to continue laboring.  (yes, that entire exchange took place while I was having contractions every 2-3 minutes).  I cried the entire ride home, and then cried more once we got there.  I was so so scared and also so upset about having to leave Finley again.

I decided to try and rest in bed for a while, knowing that the night ahead either held a surgery or a potentially long delivery.  After an hour nap, we took a short walk in the neighborhood, hoping to help things along.  Finally, around 8 pm, we decided to go back to the hospital.  We went to the women's pavilion and we were admitted to triage.  While there, she checked me, and I was still only at 4 cm.  She wanted to get the on-call doctor to see what he thought.

Since it was the same doctor we had already seen, we knew where this was going.  He came into our triage room and all but told us he refused to deliver this baby unless it was a c-section.  Cue more tears.  Our midwife, the one who just a couple of weeks ago had told us that we could go ahead and labor and see what happens, now said she advised against the natural delivery.  We kind of felt like they were pushing us into a corner, and it stressed both of us a bit.  They came in and said that another c-section had been delayed and that the OR was prepped and ready to go, and things started happening very quickly.

By now, it was probably 9:30 pm or after.  (I had already packed my phone up in our bag and didn't see it until the next morning!)  Heath had called our doula and she came right into triage with us.  She was still optimistic that we could do this...that we could insist on calling a different doctor to come in and that we could try for our original birth plan.  The biggest part I remember at this point was just an overall fear of not knowing what was going to happen.  That was probably giving me the most anxiety overall.

Heath did such a great job of advocating for us both (me and Kenton), and finally made a statement to the doctors and the nurses that we didn't appreciate being rushed or bullied into this scenario.  We wanted it to be our decision.  And eventually, we agreed to be taken back to the OR for the c-section.  When we finally consented, things happened very quickly.  I was signing paperwork, getting an IV, talking about organ donation, cord blood questions, placenta donations...it was pretty overwhelming.  They made me drink this terrible "shot" of an anti-reflux type deal.  I can't for the life of me remember what it was, but it tasted awful, and also made me feel a bit sick.  I hadn't eaten at this point or had anything to drink for a long time.

Phone calls were made and a few texts were sent, all by Heath, to our family.  It was nearly 11 pm at this point.  They brought in scrubs for Heath to wear, and they took me back to the OR.

*Side note...my childbirth class instructor had painted us a picture of what the c-section scenario might look like, and I was so glad she did.  I don't like being caught off guard by things, and I didn't feel like there were any surprises waiting for me in the OR.

We said our goodbyes (for now) and I went back with my midwife.  The delivery floor was very quiet.  The room was freezing (just like I was told it would be), and my doctor was in there getting things ready while they administered my spinal block.  The anesthetist must have had difficulties because she had to call in another doctor to get it to work.  My midwife was so sweet and let me hug her while they were fiddling with those needles.  My doctor asked me if he could play music for me while we were getting ready.  He kindly set his Pandora station to Christian music, which I thought was so sweet.  At some point during this prep, I warned them about Heath and his rapid ability to pass out in this type of environment :)  They thought I was kidding, but I told them he would literally need to be backed into this room without seeing anything being cut open.  They obliged :)

Soon, Heath was sitting above my head, and we were waiting for Kenton to be born.  The whole prep scene probably took about 30 minutes, then Heath was there.  One of the nurses offered to help us by being ready with the camera (YAY!).  The doctor was really great about narrating the procedure for me, and for that I was extremely grateful.

There was some pulling and tugging, and before I knew it, Kenton was out :)  They took him over to a side table and he started crying.  And just like that, all of the fears, panic, and anxiety were a memory.  He was here, he was safe, his collar bone/shoulder wasn't broken, and neither was I for that matter :)  They wrapped him up and brought him over to us.  They even let us have skin-to-skin time for the remainder of the surgery.  It could not have gone better, honestly.

So, in spite of all of our attempts to have this delivery be different/better than Finley's, it turned out completely different in the end and not at all how we anticipated, but it was still just fine and is now Kenton's story.  And because it's his story, I love it :)

Kenton Reichert Williams

March 10, 2015

11:36 pm 

10 pounds 6 ounces

21.5 inches long

 Our first view of Kenton 

 Looking pretty large 

 First baby snuggles

So happy :)

 First time he hit the scale in post-op
Big boy!

 First bath in the hospital

 Finley's first look at her "mimi brudge"

 Checking him out 

 Grandma 

Grandpa

 Grandma Finley

 Finley wanting my milkshake :)

 Dr. R with baby Kenton

 Finley sure loved all of the buttons on the hospital bed.

 Meeting the rest of our family in Kenya!

 BEST.NURSE.EVER.  

 Getting ready to go home.  

My Sweet Trail Blazer...

Well, today did NOT go according to my plans...when does that ever happen anymore?  Wanting to document our adventurous day and remember God's grace for us and his traveling mercies.

I wanted to leave our house today by 10 am.  Okay, let's be real.  We were SUPPOSED to leave on Wednesday or Thursday, but for a variety of reasons including a sick and teething baby, we altered our plans.  

We pulled out of our neighborhood at *ahem* 12:09 pm.  I knew I needed caffeine (remember that sick and teething baby?  Up every hour and a half last night...and for the last four days).  I pulled into the McDonald's closest to our house (judge all you want), and wanted a simple Coke.  However, their soda machine was out.  So I hopped on the interstate and pulled off at the next exit where we purchased a McDonald's happy meal and a coke.

Hopped back on the interstate with our fully loaded car full of baby paraphernalia  and projects, two babies, half a tank of gas, and lots of phone calls to catch up on.  About 40 minutes down the road, I was on the phone with my friend Summer, who so beautifully designed Finley's birthday invitations and party decor.  I was sharing all about the party when my cruise control suddenly disengaged.  Eh, no big deal.  It has been spotty lately.  

Well, bigger deal than I realized.  Soon, the gauge that looks like a battery (I don't speak car) went down to the lowest number, a 9.  Shortly thereafter, EVERY gauge on my dash went to its lowest number...RPMs, speedometer, temperature, oil, and fuel.  I had no idea how fast I was going nor did I know what to do.  I ended our call abruptly and called Heath.  

I started shaking and crying and basically freaking out.  We were 57 miles into our 245 mile trip.  There was an exit about two miles away, and I told him I was pulling over.  He wanted me to simply turn around and get back on the interstate and go home, but I could feel I was losing power.  

THANKFULLY, we made it to the gas station right off the exit.  My car all but coasted into the station then shut off.  I tried to restart it and I had nothing.  It made this bizarre ticking sound and also all of the locks tried to engage.  Again, I don't speak car. 

How we ever survived without FaceTime is beyond me.  Heath walked me through the fuse panel and we checked engine fuses and other things.  Those checked out.  Then he wanted me to disconnect the battery.  When I tried that, it sparked at me. Awesome.  

He told me to unload the kids and go inside while he made a few calls.  (He was on the other end of the 245 miles, by the way.)

At that moment, a man came over to me and asked if he could help me.  I told him I didn't know what was wrong, but he offered to look.  He and Heath chatted for a moment and Heath let him know that I have been having engine problems for a while now (beach "holiday" in May started out with my car completely shutting down on I-10 THREE times...reduced engine power each time).  

This man started looking and immediately suggested that my battery might be dead and that he could jump it for me.  He and his friend pulled their huge truck over to my car and hooked it up.  He then suggested that my alternator might be shot.  He noticed that the "battery gauge" wasn't charging.  

Anyway, they started asking where I was coming from and where I was going, and it turned out they were both from the central Florida area and were just in the panhandle at their hunting camp.  We started talking about how I could get my hands on a new battery and I found out that he works for O'Reilly Auto Parts in central Florida.  They offered to follow me back into town to get a new battery.  

So, back in the car we went, and we headed into town.  My car died twice in this 3-5 mile span.  They turned around both times and jumped my battery.  

Did I mention that it was in the 90s today?  

Anyway, we coasted into the O'Reilly parking lot and I unloaded the littles.  Kenton needed to eat and also needed a diaper change anyway.  We went inside while they took to the hood of my car.  A

If you've never been to an auto parts store, let me just tell you that they really aren't set up for nursing mothers :). They were super accommodating though and brought me a metal folding chair that I could put in the front window area so I could also keep an eye on my wide open car full of all of our baby paraphernalia and the like.  

Earl, the one who works for O'Reilly, came in and let me know that my battery just needed to be recharged and did not need to be replaced.  Yay!  He also told me that my alternator was shot, but that if I charged the battery really well, I could *probably* make it back home, as long as we left the air conditioning off and didn't use any extra power.  

Did I already mention that it was in the 90s today?  And that my three year old SCREAMED the entire ride into town because the windows were down and her hair was flying everywhere?  

I responded by repeating the word probably and then a slightly panicked grimace.  He said I would have to find someone at home to replace the alternator.  

Being the car idiot I am, I asked if an alternator was something I could purchase right there at the auto parts store, and if someone could just drop that in like they were dropping my battery in...he was very kind with his response :). He said yes I could buy one, but that no one around there would be able to install it.  

Okay.  No big deal.  My awesome neighbors had already offered to drive the 58 miles to come pick us up...in both of their cars because we wouldn't all fit in one, since we brought everything but the kitchen sink.  

He went back to the counter and told the lady the year and model of my car.  Turns out they had my alternator.  

Earl offered to install it for me!  I told him he didn't have to, but he insisted and said I would be stranded otherwise.  So, he and his friend, Rick, grabbed some bottled water and started taking apart my car.  

Meanwhile, I waited inside with the little people...our afternoon started to feel like the episode of Full House when Jesse and the two girls are locked inside the mechanic shop.  Finley was a filthy mess.  She played with all of the car detailing brushes and cloths, then used some large vinyl brand decals as capes and dresses...if my phone hadn't been dead, I would have gotten pictures.  Thankfully we also had some snacks. 

About 45 minutes later, Earl came in with my charred-looking alternator and got a new shiny one.  $161 later, we had a new alternator!  

Or so we thought.

Turns out it wasn't the right one, and this store didn't have mine.  But the store 24 miles down the road...in GEORGIA, did.  Earl and Rick insisted on going to pick it up.  Seriously, these poor men offered to help a mama and her kids get to the auto parts store, and over two hours later, they were volunteering to make an hour round trip to pick up the correct part to voluntarily finish fixing my car. 

So we sat and waited some more.  We had to quickly throw my battery in at one point to roll the windows up before a huge storm came through, but we made it.  We changed diapers on top of boxes of car jacks, and snacked on ritz crackers and robin eggs (a random last minute addition to our snack bag). 

Over an hour later, they returned with the right part and then stood in the rain for another hour putting my car back together.  

I had nothing on me to give these men as a token of gratitude except baby gear, princess toys, and a thermal bag with bacon, peanut butter, and cream cheese.  They graciously declined :)

After over four hours at the store, we were ready to go.  They followed me back to the interstate and checked on me at the gas station.  They wouldn't even let me pay for some snacks or food for them.  They said it was their pleasure and that they have wives and children and would want the same thing for them if they had been in my shoes.  

These men literally saved us today.  This day was beyond stressful and scary for me, but had I actually left earlier in the week or even earlier in the day, our paths may not have crossed.  God orchestrated this whole sequence of events and put two incredibly selfless, servant-minded men in our life today.  I literally wept tears of joy as I continued driving tonight.  The alternative could have been so very scary, but we are so incredibly grateful for how our adventure ended up unfolding today.  

11 hours later, we made it to Heath :). 

Earl and Rick, may God richly bless you.  May we pay your kindness forward.  Thank you for taking care of us and being such generous and genuine people.  

More Finley-isms

I guess I will have to keep adding on to the list of fun things Finley continues to say.

Finley, I feel like I need to keep adding on to your list of fun and quirky things:

• Ready, steady, DOH!!!!  (another Peppa Pig phrase)
• Do a-den, do a-den!  (Do again)
• Unfortunately, the word purse is not so clear and is slightly inappropriate...it comes out very much like "piss."  No bueno.
• CORRECTION:  Sleeping Beauty is actually SEEPING Booty.  Oh boy.
• I am always encouraging you to talk to your baby brother, but your response is always, " HIM TAN'T TALK!!!"  You look at me like I'm so unintelligent...like why would she ask me to talk to something that clearly doesn't know how to talk?!
• "Look mom!  I wunning in circuhs!" as you literally run around in a tight circle in whatever room we happen to be in.  Won't lie...this one is weird to me.
• "No mama, you not a dirl (girl), you a mommy!"
• You desperately want a superhero cape, and your semi-crafty mother has failed in delivering that to you.  Instead, all bath towels and blankets have turned into capes.
• I will do my best to remember your sweet compliments right now, especially when it comes to the clothes I wear.  Anytime I wear a skirt or a dress, which is pretty often, you tell me, "wow mommy, so pretty in your dwess!"  Be still my heart.  I know one day I most likely will be the dumbest, most unfashionable person in your life.  
• You think that by adding "pwiddy pweese" to everything, that you should automatically receive it.  And you repeat it no less than twenty times.
• Delicious is currently pronounced DEE-wish-us.  You're just so cute.
• I think I already mentioned this but maybe not.  You can't say the ST blend, so today, you told me to hurry up because a big dorm was coming :). 
• "I watch daddy make fire."  You sound so archaic saying this.
• Your new favorite addition to our song list is "Twickle Twickle Wittle Dar."  
• Lately, you've been telling us, "shhhhhh dine-saws seeping!"  (Dinosaurs sleeping).  I have yet to figure out the origin of this one.  
• Your blankie is referred to as your "winky."
• "Wook, mommy, wook!"  Look, mommy, look!
• "Wash me, mama, wash me!"  Watch me, mama, watch me!
• "No, do wike dis"  Do like this.  
• You have been DESPERATE to go on a holiday, another word you have learned from Peppa Pig.  We finally came through for you and took you to the beach!  More on that later :)

Finley, you continue to make us laugh on a daily basis.  You are a joy and a delight, even when you are acting like a typical toddler :)

We love you, sweet girl!