Time for two.

Cameron was just about 6 months old, and we were really starting to get the hang of parenting. He was such a happy, easy-going baby... I couldn't wait for another one!

Apparently Jay had already caught the baby bug again too.

Driving home from a dinner with his family, he out-of-nowhere turned to me and said, "I want to have another baby." And just like that, the decision had been made.

As soon as we got home, we flushed all of my pills down the toilet. The goalie had once again been pulled from the game.

After some discussion, we both acknowledged that it may take a few months, and that we shouldn't get our hopes up. We weren't "trying" but we weren't "preventing" either. We were honestly expecting another 6 months like our last experience.

Were we ever wrong!

Three weeks later, my period was late. I couldn't possibly be pregnant already! But, despite thinking it was impossible, we bought a test.

PREGNANT.

What the heck? How could it have been that easy? Before we really even gave ourselves time to process the possibility of a second child, a second child was on the way.

Any early ultrasound confirmed, we were indeed expecting. Baby #2 was due November 23rd, 2010.

A few weeks later, we let Cameron make the announcement for us.

"I'm not LION, I'm going to be a BIG BROTHER!"

This pregnancy wasn't quite as easy as my first, but it was in no way something I would have complained about. Sure, I was sick a bit more, but it was manageable.

This time around I KNEW it was a girl. It was like everywhere I turned, there was a cute pair of shoes or a big flowery headband calling my name. Baby had to be a girl.

I could have skipped my 20-week ultrasound. That's how convinced I was that we were having a girl. And yet, I was afraid that if I told me husband JUST how sure I was, I would jinx myself. So I kept all of my baby girl planning to myself.

And sure enough, at our July 2010 ultrasound, my intuition was confirmed. BABY GIRL!

 

 

I guess you could say Cameron named his baby sister. Jay and I couldn't agree on anything. One night, while we were all just hanging out, watching Wall.E (Cameron's FAVORITE movie at the time), the name conversation came up again for the 9,787th time. But this time, Cameron gave his two cents. Suddenly he said, "Eva". Now, if you're familiar with the movie, Wall.E falls for a robot named Eve, but always pronounces her name as "Eva". Surprisingly, we both loved it and basically the rest is history. We finally had a name! Baby girl was going to be named Eva Florence. Florence as homage to Jay's grandmother.

 

The rest of the pregnancy went as well as anyone could hope. I was healthy. Baby girl was healthy. Another complaint free pregnancy. Until I hit 39 weeks....

 

I had only made it to 39 weeks with our first, and I hadn't even considered being pregnant longer then that. I wanted to be done.

 

39 weeks and 1 day.

39 weeks and 2 days.

 

At 39 weeks and 3 days I had a standard OB appointment. I opted to have my membranes stripped, in hopes of jump starting labor.

 

24 hours later, I was convinced I'd be pregnant forever. I was so convinced that I was no where near the end, that I encouraged my husband go to a WILD hockey came that night, but I agreed to hang out with Cameron at my in-law's house, in case I spontaneously went into labor.

 

The night was uneventful. Jay got home around 10:30 p.m. from the game, and the three of us went home.

 

BOOM! What the hell heck was that?! We hadn't even been home for an hour when I was hulk-stomped with my first contraction. And these were no joke. Painful and three minutes apart from the very beginning! I guess she was just waiting for Daddy before getting the show on the road... and she wasn't wasting time.

 

I had wanted to labor at home for as long as possible like I had the first time, but the immediate intensity of the contractions freaked me out. You could say I panicked. After only two hours of laboring at home, I wanted to go to the hospital. So we called my mother to stay with Cameron (since it was the middle of the night) and we made our way to our local hospital.

 

By 4 a.m. I had gotten an epidural. And this time around, I was actually able to take a nap.

 

I woke up at 6:30 to a dull pinch in my right hip. It was a contraction. Right then and there I was sure that my epidural was wearing off or not working at all, but then again I hadn't had an epidural for this long before (see previous labor story), so who was I to stay what was normal and what wasn't.

 

By 7:30, the contractions had continued to get stronger again. Before I really had a chance to assess my pain, the doctor asked if I was ready for her to break my water. YES. I was ready to be done with labor. I was ready to hold my daughter. YES, please break my water!

 

I should have known better. Having your water break is a total game changer, at least for me. Things take off so fast after that. And the pain was suddenly so intense, that it was as if my "epidural" didn't exist! PANIC.

 

I could feel EVERYTHING. Again, not something I was completely prepared for. After insisting to my nurse that something was "wrong" with my epidural, and having the anesthesiologist come back to double check his work, I realized that amongst the pain, my body was starting to push. Pain or not, I had no choice but to do it on my own.

 

The bright side to feeling everything, is that I knew exactly where Eva was, and how effective my pushing was. Four pushes later, baby girl was in my arms! After carrying her for 39 weeks and 5 days, I finally got to see her sweet little face!

 

I melted. I looked at Jay, and literally saw him fall in love with his daughter right before my eyes.

 

 

 

Eva Florence

November 21st, 2010

8:31 a.m.

7 lbs 4 ozs

21.5 inches long

 

 

She was beautiful. We were so blessed.

 



 

 



The boy that changed everything.

2009 couldn't have gotten off on a better foot! We were having a baby, due September 7th!

The first half of the pregnancy went as perfectly as I could have hoped. Very little morning sickness. No hiccups in the road. Everything was smooth sailing. As we were anxiously approaching our first ultrasound at 20 weeks, I was pretty much convinced it was a boy. I don't know if I truly thought it was a boy, or if because I desperately wanted a son, I had convinced myself that baby was, in fact, a boy.

In early April we got the news I was hoping for, and at this point expected. BABY WAS A BOY!

We had only ever discussed boy names. And Cameron was always the front runner. As I said in a previous post, hockey is a big HUGE deal in our house. So it was only fitting that our first born son have a hockey related name. Cam Neely. One of Jay's all time favorite hockey players.

I liked Wyatt, Jay like Cameron, and Cameron Wyatt had a better ring to it then Wyatt Cameron.
So Cameron Wyatt it was.

The second half of my pregnancy went as perfectly as the first. Never was I uncomfortable, and the only reason I ever got desperate for labor was simply because I wanted to meet my son, not because I wanted the pregnancy to end.

Audrey (also pregnant with a boy) and I were due just a few days apart, so August was met with much anticipation by the entire family. Both sides of our family were getting their first grandsons/nephews and no one could hide their excitement.

On the morning of August 28, we got a phone call that Audrey's labor had started. I'll admit, I was, again, a little bit jealous, but knew our time was soon too. By that evening, our first nephew was here!

The next morning, my contractions started. Earlier then I had expected and not much to report, but they were there. Mild and every 10 minutes or so. This continued for the entire day. By that night they were 5 minutes apart, and we were given the go-ahead by the hospital to come in. At this point, I would say my pain was maybe a 3 on a scale of 1-10.

The nurse was able to pick up the contractions on the monitor, and I was 3 centimeters dilated. We decided to see what happened over the course of the next hour, and if I was making progress I would be admitted to labor and delivery.

An hour later there was no change. I was disappointed, but in my heart I think I was expecting it. So, we went home. I felt much more comfortable sleeping in my own bed for the night, and continuing to labor at home if the contractions were going to stay.

The next morning my contractions were practically gone. I couldn't believe it! The night before, I thought I was having a baby, and now I was no closer to his arrival. My husband, being just as anxious as I was, suggested we go for a walk to see if we could get things going again.

It actually worked! A few hours later we were back home, timing contractions. It was ANOTHER day full of them. By 11 p.m. on August 30th they were finally to the point were I couldn't talk through them. Or even walk for that matter. But there was no way I was going to let them send me home again, so I was going to labor as long as possible before going back to the hospital.

My persistence paid off, and around 2 a.m. my water broke. It was showtime!

We made our way back to the hospital, and were shocked to find out that I was already 7 centimeters! Once my water broke my pain was a 10. I wanted the epidural. I couldn't wait any longer. The nurse tried to inform me as kindly as she could, but it was just as upsetting either way... no one was around to perform an epidural. They had already called the on-call anesthesiologist, but it could be up to an hour before she arrived. I would have to endure it for at least that long.

When the anesthesiologist finally arrived, I would have jumped up and hugged her, had I not been in so much pain. To say I was happy to see her would be an understatement. I damn near cried from relief as she walked into the room.

Within a few minutes, I was resting comfortably. I was totally exhausted from the last two days, especially the last couple of hours, and in desperate need of a nap. And so was my husband. Before either of us got too settled in, the nurse wanted to check to see where I was at.

10 centimeters. After all that, when all I wanted to do was sleep, it was time to push. Jay and I were shocked! We had only been at the hospital for a couple hours! Thank goodness we hadn't waited at home any longer!

After 39 weeks of pregnancy and 40 minutes of pushing (give me a break, I was so tired!) our beautiful baby boy was born!

Cameron Wyatt
August 31st, 2009
5:09 a.m.
7 lbs 4 ozs
21.5 inches long

He was perfect in every way. Seeing him for the first time was better then I could have ever imagined! He looked so much like his Dad! The love that consumed me was indescribable. I never knew how much I loved my husband, until I saw him hold his son for the first time. Until I saw how much he loved his child.

We were changed forever.

The journey to MOTHERHOOD.

I've always wanted a family. ALWAYS. And when I fell in love with my future husband in July of 2007, I couldn't wait to start a family with him. I fell for him almost immediately, but that's another post, for another day.

Following our January 2008 engagement, Jay wanted to start a family right away. And I did too. But it was important to me that we be married first. Not for any other reason then that I didn't want to be a pregnant bride, and I wanted to have the same last name as my child and my husband on our child's birth certificate. Maybe those are superficial reasons, but that's what I wanted. So we put our baby plans on hold... for awhile.

It was now July, and we were finally in the thick of planning our October wedding. I was (and still am) head over heels for Jay, and couldn't quiet my hopes and dreams of a family any longer. So in August, as my husband likes to say, we "pulled the goalie". (Hockey is life in our house, but again, that's another post, for another day.) I knew I was putting myself in a position to be pregnant at our wedding, something I never wanted, but hopefully if a pregnancy happened quickly, it would be something we could keep secret. I couldn't help but picture the looks on our parents' faces at the reception when we surprised them with our baby news!

Well, it didn't play out that way.

August came and went. September came and went. October AND our wedding, came and went. By November I was starting to have serious concerns that maybe something was wrong. Looking back, three months of trying to conceive is nothing, but at the time, it felt like a lifetime.

For whatever reason, I was much more optimistic in November then I ever had been. I just felt like this was our month. I had a thousand different ideas for telling Jay he was going to to be a DAD! Every day we got closer to when Aunt Flo was due, I got more excited. The instructions for the pregnancy test claimed to be able to detect pregnancy five days before a period had been missed, and you can bet your last dollar that we were going to test as soon as we could. So, of course, five days before my period was due, we took a pregnancy test. NEGATIVE. My heart sank. How could someone be so sure of something, and still be wrong?! I refused to take this negative test as the final word, and decided we would just wait to see if my period showed up.

A few days later was Thanksgiving. Aside from my incredible husband, I didn't feel like I had much more to be thankful for. Despite trying to be positive, the optimism I had greeted the month with was gone. I know, that sounds terrible, but I wasn't in the best place. I couldn't stop thinking about the negative test. I had no idea getting pregnant would take this long and I was in no way prepared for how emotional the journey would be. To make matters worse, my period arrived. On Thanksgiving day. At my in-laws' house. All I wanted to do was cry. But I couldn't. No one knew we were trying (though I'm sure some may had suspected) and the last thing I wanted to do was let anyone into our heartache. I put on a brave face for my husband and his family, even though inside I was crumbling.

It was December, and with Christmas and my birthday on the horizon, I was glad to have some distraction. My husband and I had had a serious conversation, and if we hit the 6-month mark, we would see our doctors and ask for help. Not the ideal way to start off a new year, but if something was wrong, we wanted to address it and not prolong the inevitable.

A few days before Christmas, we got news that damn near killed me. My brother-in-law's girlfriend was pregnant. I was furious. It was more then I could handle emotionally, and physically, I was sick. In no way was that a reflection of how I felt about her, or their relationship. I was just so stunned. Did Jay and I not want it bad enough?! Were we being punished for something?! Why did they get a baby and we didn't?! They had only known each other for a few months! It wasn't fair. And I was mad.

I will NEVER forgive myself for how I treated Josh's girlfriend over the next few days. I was jealous, angry with our "situation", and bitter... and I took it out on her. She's now my sister-in-law, and I can thankfully say we have a great relationship (she was brought into my life for a reason, that I wouldn't truly appreciate for a few years yet, but in the end, I am LUCKY to have her as a friend and sister), but it will never change how I treated her or the things I said to her.

Her pregnancy and my jealousy brought out a side of me I didn't even know I had. I couldn't think about anything else. The jealousy and bitterness consumed my thoughts for days. Why? Why?! WHY NOT ME?

It was the day after Christmas, and the day I would have to face Audrey. I couldn't handle one comment about pregnancy. I couldn't handle one conversation about their future baby. I had no idea how I would be able to get through the day. On top of all that, my period was due. When I got out of bed on December 26, 2008 and discovered that Aunt Flo had not yet arrived, I decided to take a test. I was feeling terrible, and didn't want to be caught off guard mid-Christmas festivities with my husband's family, by my period. So I thought it best to just get the testing over with. Maybe even put my mind a little bit as ease for the day.

Jay was already in the shower, and I couldn't wait for him to get out. I took the test, and tucked it back into it's foil wrapper. Watching the hourglass flash on the digital screen made me queasy, and by putting it back into the wrapper, I could postpone my heartbreak. After what felt like days, I peeked at the test.

"Is this possible?" My knees almost buckled. I couldn't breath. My eyes were welling up with tears. PREGNANT.

I had almost given up. I wasn't expecting it to be positive. What a perfect Christmas gift.

I ran to the bathroom, threw open the shower curtain, and shoved the test in my husband's face. I had no words. Literally, my brain couldn't connect to my mouth. PREGNANT.

We were finally getting our family.

Of course we couldn't keep it secret for long. Not even a day. Barely 12 hours. We told his family that same night at our Christmas get together. The crack in Jay's voice as he told everyone the news, trying to keep from crying, and the shriek of excitement his mom let out made the moment perfect. My brother-in-law and his girlfriend didn't say a word. Not a smile. Nothing. But that was the reaction I deserved. And in that moment, I knew JUST how hurtful I had been, and I was immediately embarrassed by my behavior. But it would be months before I would be able to swallow my pride and apologize.

FINALLY we were off the road of trying to conceive, and on the road to PARENTHOOD!

Will I find the time?!

When I set all this up, I had the best intentions of making at the very least, a weekly entry. But here it's been WEEKS since I came back to my quiet little blog. I'm actually a little disappointed in myself.

I keep beating myself up for not writing down my birth stories, so that's where I'll start. Not that I'm concerned that I'm suddenly going to forget everything, but I want to get the details down so the someday, if my kids want to know, it's all there.

So that's where I'll start. As my oldest son's birthday rapidly approaches (he'll be 3 in just a few days!), now is good time to get it all out there...

A personal disclaimer.

Let me start by saying that I am flattered by anyone who decides to follow my journey and read my posts, but at the end of the day, I am only doing this for myself. I want to compile all of the memories, good and bad, document the ups and downs, and remember my mistakes and victories. Maybe someday my kids will read this. Maybe someone, mother or not, will learn something from my posts. Maybe I'll never share this with anyone. Whatever I decide to do with this blog, whatever I decide to post about, it's all for my own record keeping.

That being said, it makes the most sense to me, to start with the most influential moments of my life in the first few posts. These will likely get deeply personal, but I don't know how to be real without getting personal.