The Long Winter

Abby's portrait of me. Notice the baby in my tummy.

It feels funny looking at pictures of snowstorms and fuzzy pajamas on a day when it's pushing ninety degrees and we're trying to stay cool, but it's a nice reminder that, even though winter 2018 felt like it would never end, it eventually did.

I think our family spent about 98% of this winter sick. It was the worst. The flu, pneumonia, bronchitis, sinus infections, ear infections, and pink eye were a few of our ailments. Thankfully, we were able to keep Lydia from contracting all of them except for pink eye - and if we had to choose one for her to catch, that was probably the best choice, even if it was painful and annoying.

So we spent most of the winter stuck inside our home. I didn't dare take a newborn anywhere, and the older kids were sick so often that I couldn't let them go anywhere, anyway. It was a long winter. But we still managed some good times.

On February 13th - the evening before Valentine's Day - I suddenly realized that since I have daughter attending preschool, I am probably expected to send her to school with valentines the next day. I'm sure the teacher had sent home information about this, but it was lost in the blur of taking care of a newborn. So here I was with a nine-day-old baby, too tired to make a trip to the store, scrambling around the house to see what random supplies we had on hand. And in a stroke of perfect luck, I found a bunch of glow sticks. Abby and I made her valentines out of construction paper, using the glow stick for an arrow. They say, "Dear friend, you make my heart glow! From, Abby". They were adorable, if I do say so myself, and I was so, so happy that we weren't giving away candy.

(And just as a side note here: I was SHOCKED that she was the only one in her class to bring in homemade valentines. I shouldn't be surprised, but I was.)

We saved a couple of glow sticks for our kids. That night we turned out all of the lights in our house and had a glow stick parade. That was fabulously fun.

We had a couple of light snows. I juggled the balance of allowing my older kids to play outside in the snow while also keeping my little baby safe and warm inside.

Grandma (Jacob's mom) stayed with us for a while to help after Lydia was born. I was pampered thoroughly and didn't make a single meal while she was here. That was bliss. But I felt bad when I realized that she was with us for her birthday, and I was too tired to do much for her. So Abby and I went to the store and picked up some uniquely-flavored chocolates, and we celebrated with a family taste test. Happy birthday, Grandma.

Jacob and Abigail went on their annual daddy-daughter date. This year they had a 50's theme.

With about ten minutes to go until it was time for them to leave, I quickly stitched a poodle on to Abigail's skirt.

A couple of weeks later, Snow White came to the library!

We enjoyed beautiful sunsets.

We played with the same toys over and over again and wondered if we would ever play in the sunshine again.

And then, finally, towards the end of March we had the most beautiful and sunny day! We wore short sleeved shirts! We drew on the sidewalk with chalk! We saw our neighbors again! We thought we had possibly seen the end of winter! Hooray!

Oh, March. How you trick me every year. The very next day, here comes the biggest snowstorm of the season.

We bundled back up, we stomped through the perfectly even snow, we threw snowballs, we made snow angels. We came back inside to drink hot chocolate.

We built forts into every possible nook-and-cranny in the house. I tried to hold on to my sanity.

We colored in coloring books. Again. We played with the same toys. Again.

I found Abby sleeping like this one night.

I totally and absolutely dropped the ball on Jacob's birthday for like...what...the fourth year in a row? Yeah, probably about as long as we've had kids. So we took the kids to the mall and let them play, and at least they were happy.

Finally, finally, on the last day of March we went to our town's annual Easter Egg hunt and enjoyed some sunshine. It was the beginning of the end, the first real welcoming of spring weather. Goodbye to the long 2018 winter that we somehow survived.

All At Once, Everything Is Different - Now That I See You

Well it has been a busy, tiring, never-stop-for-a-moment, almost four months since little Lydia’s arrival, but it’s also been an amazing time and I am so grateful that tonight I finally have a few spare minutes to talk about it.

In a lot of ways, this birth was very similar to Thomas’. I started having Braxton-Hicks contractions in the second trimester that somewhat seamlessly transitioned into real contractions as the weeks passed. I was absolutely convinced that this baby was going to come early, partly because Abigail had come early (and therefore all my daughters must, right? Flawless logic) and also because my half-birthday was exactly one week before my due date and how cool would that be. The first time that I thought I might really be in labor was in the early morning hours of January 9, more than three weeks before the due date. There was an ice storm that night, and I sat in an armchair in Abby’s room while timing the contractions, looking out the window and praying that this please not be the real thing. I was so scared of driving to the hospital in that storm, and of asking someone else to drive in it to come watch Abigail and Thomas. My prayers were answered. The contractions faded away after a few hours. They started up again a few days later, faded again, started up again, faded again, etc. I made a lot of calls to the midwives in the middle of the night. My half-birthday came and went and so did the due date, no baby in sight.

February 1st - sitting around and waiting for baby

As we got into February I started to get a little concerned. Jacob’s father and brother were staying with us. They had flown out from Utah to be with Thomas and Abigail when Jacob and I went to the hospital, but they were scheduled to fly back on February 6^th. That meant that (assuming everything went okay and we had a healthy delivery with a standard two-day stay at the hospital) the baby had to come no later than February 4^th. On the morning of the fourth I got up with the kids before anyone else. We came downstairs and I made them breakfast. I was cooking pancakes when the contractions started up again. They were only two minutes apart and lasting a minute and a half each, but they also weren’t very strong. I was easily getting through them. This was my third baby and I knew enough to know that I wasn’t in labor (really, you can’t miss it), but I also knew that if this baby came as quickly as Thomas did then I probably wouldn’t make it to the hospital in time. In clear roads it was a forty-five minute drive, and that morning it was snowing. I also guessed that I was probably far enough along that if I showed up at the hospital they would admit me, even if I wasn’t in labor yet. So when Jacob woke up I told him to go ahead and pack up the last-minute items for the hospital bag. We hugged and kissed the kids goodbye and off we went. 

I will always remember how pleasant that drive was. The contractions had slowed down again, I only had two the entire time. The falling snow was so beautiful. We drove slowly and stuck to the main roads that we knew would be plowed, even though it added some time to the trip. We chatted and laughed and thoroughly enjoyed the rare opportunity to have a conversation without being interrupted by miniature people. We arrived at the hospital around 10:30. I was dilated almost to a seven when the midwife checked, but still the contractions were spread out and mild. The midwife said I was too far along to be sent home (thought so!) and that they would break my water to speed things up, but first I needed a four hour dose of antibiotics since I had tested positive for GBS. While the nurse was putting in the IV I had another contraction and asked her to pause until it was over. I closed my eyes and breathed through it, and when it was over I told her she could continue. She said, “You have excellent control.” I replied, “Let’s not kid ourselves. You and I both know I’m not really in labor yet.”

With four hours to go until labor, I gave myself permission to just rest. I tried to take a nap but the contractions were too persistent. I tried to read a book but I was too apprehensive and couldn’t concentrate. Finally, we turned on the TV and binged-watched sitcoms. When the contractions were too strong I bounced on a birthing ball (that was my first time doing that and can I just say, those things are fabulous!). Nurses periodically came in to fill out paperwork and set up the room. 

After I had completed the dose of antibiotics the midwife came in and broke my water. It was 3:00. She said things would probably pick up within an hour. I knew that I was truly in labor at 3:35 when the first real contraction hit. It was brutal. The next one came at 3:39 and that was the last time I looked at the clock. They were coming fast and hard and it was just incredibly intense. Jacob held me as we walked laps around the room and when that stopped being manageable I got into the tub. I have to say that after everything I’ve heard women say about warm baths during labor, it was a lot less soothing than I thought it would be. I was seriously in agony. I had made the assumption that I could manage a natural birth because I hadn’t had an epidural when Thomas was born. I thought I had an idea of how difficult it would be, but I had forgotten how different births can be. This one was a thousand times worse than Thomas’, and all of the tricks I had used to get through Thomas’ labor were not working this time.

I was probably in the tub less than ten minutes, but I knew it was time to get out. Baby was definitely on the way. The midwife showed up, helped me back to the bed, and told me to push when I felt like it. The pain was so overwhelming, I couldn’t even think about pushing. I just laid there and wondered why I was stupid enough to think I could do this. Finally one of the nurses yelled, “Stop screaming! Take all that energy and use it to push out your baby!” My initial thought was, “Who is she talking to?” With a jolt I realized she was talking to me (obviously). I was so absorbed by the pain that I didn’t even know that I was screaming. She had a terrible bedside manner, but she was right. I stopped screaming and got to work. Lydia Rose was born shortly afterwards, at 4:26. Labor lasted less than an hour.

My midwife practice usually puts the baby on the mother’s chest immediately after birth, but would you believe it: the umbilical cord was too short to even make it to my abdomen! They handed her to me and I kind-of awkwardly held her over my pelvis until they cut the cord. I couldn’t see anything except the matted down hair on top of her head. I kept asking Jacob, “Is she okay? What does she look like? What is she doing?” When I could finally see her I was overwhelmed with how tiny and perfect she was.

The time stamp on this picture says 4:29 - three minutes after Lydia's birth. Well no wonder I look terrible. 

Everything after that is a blur of nurses and tests and paperwork and exhaustion and sweet newborn cuddles. 

Abigail and Thomas came to the hospital the next day to meet their new little sister. They were so excited, gentle, and sweet. Even Thomas, who is  easily excited and sometimes a wild child, seemed to sense that this was a special time to move slowly and carefully. They held her, patted her, and cooed over her. The day after that, Lydia and I came home from the hospital, just a couple of hours before Jacob left to take his dad and brother to the airport. So overall, it was just about perfect timing.

Home from the hospital

The weeks have really blurred together since then. It’s hard to comprehend that Lydia is already almost four months old. It’s been an adjustment, but every life transition is. I stand by my old assertion that adjusting to your first baby is the most difficult – by the time you have the second or third, you are over the shock of how time-consuming and all-encompassing babies are. It’s easier to accept the realities of a messy house, unkempt appearance, the exhaustion, falling behind on everything, and literally not even two minutes to yourself. I also have the advantage of knowing that, as difficult as it is, it really is a brief time. And I will desperately miss it after it’s gone.

 

Sweet morning snuggles with my two girls

Reading stories while nursing the baby - my new normal

Little Lydia was (by far!) my easiest newborn. She slept beautifully, nursed contentedly, and was happy when awake. Now that she’s a little older we’re seeing some of that change. She is waking up more at night. That is actually okay with me. It’s a special time for us to be alone together, away from the chaos that surrounds us during the day. She is also very, very attached to me, more so than I remember Abigail or Thomas being at this age. Unless she’s in a very good mood she will scream instantly if someone takes her from my arms, and she will immediately stop as soon as she is back in my arms. It has made for some awkward moments with well-meaning neighbors and acquaintances.

Sleeping with her arms in the air!

I love that little nose!

 Abigail and Thomas just adore her. I expected that to be true for Abigail, but I admit once again that Thomas’ attachment has shocked me. He is a mama’s boy for sure, and I thought he would resent this tiny being who takes up so much of my time, but he is so affectionate and gentle with her. It’s sweet, really. It helps that she was such a mellow newborn. There were times when I wondered if they even noticed that there was a new baby in the house.

In the first three months I nearly always had Lydia in a baby carrier. Abby was inspired and starting carrying stuffed animals and dolls around in a baby carrier!

This very awkward position was her favorite way of sleeping on me for a long time.

I love being a family of five. I love, love, love this sweet little baby. And I love my still-a-baby-to-me rambunctious, mischievous, charming little TomTom, and I love my still-a-baby-to-me beautiful, bright, compassionate little Abby. I love being their mom. They are each such a gift.

Two months old

Two big eyes staring at me in the dark

She reached the age when staring at the kite curtains was more interesting than nursing. I remember when Abigail did this at the same age - three months.

Welcome to the world, little one. Welcome to our family.

Three months