And people say lightning never strikes the same place twice. I'm just lucky, I guess.
Heaven help us...
18 March 2012
15 March 2012
El Tres
At 4:23 AM on Thursday morning, March 8th, I went into my daughters' room because Cecily was crying. After she was consoled, I stepped out into the hallway, and something dripped onto my foot. I looked down to see that I was dripping on my foot. I couldn't understand how I was standing there, peeing my pants, whilst not willing my bladder to do so.
"Ooooooh. So THIS is what it's like when your water breaks."
I had a planned c-section scheduled for the 10th and so I woke up David and told him that our plans had changed. He didn't believe me at first. Probably because I thought my water had broken with Malia and all it had been was a little trickle of a mucus plug. They had broken my water at the hospital with Lili, and CC was a planned cesarean... as #3 was intended to be.
There was a mild panic. We had no one to watch the kids and it was 4:30 in the morning! My mom wasn't able to come down until Friday night, which we had planned for, which is the only benefit of a planned c-section. We called my doctor, and the nurse at his after hours line told us it was hospital time. She asked if I was having contractions, and I said, "No. Not really. Nothing more than the Braxtons I've been getting for a month."
Dave and I decided to wait out my contractions a little before bothering anyone. WHO was going to come watch our KIDS at this unGODly hour?! We were so unprepared. We thought we'd had at least 2 full days left. I threw a diaper bag together and Dave and I ran downstairs to officially install the carseat. Once that crazy activity began, I realized a difference in my contractions. They were getting stronger and closer together. When they reached 7 minutes, we called the hospital again and they said, "Get. Here. Now." (the panic around the possibility of a ruptured uterus is pretty palpable).
I took a shower while Dave called the Freemans (friends from Church who don't have kids). Kristina could come but had to be at work by 9 AM. *GAH!* As I showered I thought and thought and then remembered my friend Suzette from Church runs a daycare. We called her. No answer. Of course not. It's 5 in the morning. Kristina showed up around 6 after Dave and I had both showered and we left. Eventually we got in touch with Suzette who was wonderful about Kristina bringing the girls to her so Kristina could go to work.
We got to the hospital around 6:20 and I refused a wheelchair. I knew I'd be nearly immobile after the c-section and was in no rush to be wheeled around just yet. At OB admitting, my contractions were 4 minutes apart, and STRONG. I paced the hall and breathed as they took FOREVER. I wasn't annoyed that I was in labor. I was annoyed that I was in labor even though I'd be going into surgery. I just didn't want to suffer anymore for no reason.
When we got to the L&D floor, there were hardly any (productive) employees there. Apparently there had been recent renovations and it was a little unorganized. Long story short? The next few hours consisted of a) one nurse running around like a chicken with her head cut off trying to get my labwork and everything ready (again - stuff that was supposed to be done in advance had this baby just WAITED), 2) Dave fuming because it seemed like nothing productive was happening, and d) me sitting on a gurney, breathing through contractions that were now only a minute and a 1/2 apart. Eventually, the nurse gave me a shot of Terbutaline (to stop my labor which, apparently, was progressing ridiculously fast - go figure) which worked for about 30 minutes... and then right back into it my body went. Contractions - minute apart. Where the freak is my doctor?! If you MUST cut me open, then DO it already!
The on-call doctor ended up performing my surgery. He was fast. Not sure if that's good or bad. He was nice. Good. He looked a little cross-eyed... bad? But he wasn't MY doctor - bad. Either way, our beautiful little girl was born at what felt like a record pace from cut-to-yank and she cried whole-heartedly from the get-go.
"Ooooooh. So THIS is what it's like when your water breaks."
I had a planned c-section scheduled for the 10th and so I woke up David and told him that our plans had changed. He didn't believe me at first. Probably because I thought my water had broken with Malia and all it had been was a little trickle of a mucus plug. They had broken my water at the hospital with Lili, and CC was a planned cesarean... as #3 was intended to be.
There was a mild panic. We had no one to watch the kids and it was 4:30 in the morning! My mom wasn't able to come down until Friday night, which we had planned for, which is the only benefit of a planned c-section. We called my doctor, and the nurse at his after hours line told us it was hospital time. She asked if I was having contractions, and I said, "No. Not really. Nothing more than the Braxtons I've been getting for a month."
Dave and I decided to wait out my contractions a little before bothering anyone. WHO was going to come watch our KIDS at this unGODly hour?! We were so unprepared. We thought we'd had at least 2 full days left. I threw a diaper bag together and Dave and I ran downstairs to officially install the carseat. Once that crazy activity began, I realized a difference in my contractions. They were getting stronger and closer together. When they reached 7 minutes, we called the hospital again and they said, "Get. Here. Now." (the panic around the possibility of a ruptured uterus is pretty palpable).
I took a shower while Dave called the Freemans (friends from Church who don't have kids). Kristina could come but had to be at work by 9 AM. *GAH!* As I showered I thought and thought and then remembered my friend Suzette from Church runs a daycare. We called her. No answer. Of course not. It's 5 in the morning. Kristina showed up around 6 after Dave and I had both showered and we left. Eventually we got in touch with Suzette who was wonderful about Kristina bringing the girls to her so Kristina could go to work.
We got to the hospital around 6:20 and I refused a wheelchair. I knew I'd be nearly immobile after the c-section and was in no rush to be wheeled around just yet. At OB admitting, my contractions were 4 minutes apart, and STRONG. I paced the hall and breathed as they took FOREVER. I wasn't annoyed that I was in labor. I was annoyed that I was in labor even though I'd be going into surgery. I just didn't want to suffer anymore for no reason.
When we got to the L&D floor, there were hardly any (productive) employees there. Apparently there had been recent renovations and it was a little unorganized. Long story short? The next few hours consisted of a) one nurse running around like a chicken with her head cut off trying to get my labwork and everything ready (again - stuff that was supposed to be done in advance had this baby just WAITED), 2) Dave fuming because it seemed like nothing productive was happening, and d) me sitting on a gurney, breathing through contractions that were now only a minute and a 1/2 apart. Eventually, the nurse gave me a shot of Terbutaline (to stop my labor which, apparently, was progressing ridiculously fast - go figure) which worked for about 30 minutes... and then right back into it my body went. Contractions - minute apart. Where the freak is my doctor?! If you MUST cut me open, then DO it already!
The on-call doctor ended up performing my surgery. He was fast. Not sure if that's good or bad. He was nice. Good. He looked a little cross-eyed... bad? But he wasn't MY doctor - bad. Either way, our beautiful little girl was born at what felt like a record pace from cut-to-yank and she cried whole-heartedly from the get-go.
Daphne Genevieve Nutter
3/8/2012
10:55 AM
8 lbs.
20"
3/8/2012
10:55 AM
8 lbs.
20"
The three days in the hospital were lonely. I sent Dave home every night and I only had him bring the girls for a couple hours each day (a hospital is bo-ring! for little ones). Coming home was something I was anticipating... until night came. In the hospital I held her, pretty much, 24-7. And then I came home and was reminded I have 2 other children who have been functioning without this addition and now we all have to adjust. That night, I co-slept with Daphne in my bed which made it impossible for Dave or I to get any sleep... at. all. The next day, I held her during naps, or Dave did, or my Mom did. Or even Malia did. CC's interest? Meh.And then another night of living hell.
So, when she was 5 days old, I decided it was time to teach her to sleep in her crib. The hard thing about making that choice is that, once you make it, you have to stick by it consistently for a good time period. Especially at such a young age. But I know the benefits of good sleep for a family and independent sleep for babies. So I made the choice.
Have I been second-guessing it every 5 minutes since? Yup. Do I get a knot in my stomach whenever she has a nap go not as well as the others? Yup. Do I sometimes feel like I'm missing out on precious snuggle time because the child sleeps for 20+ hours a day... in her crib? Uuuuh... yup. And is night sleep still bad? YES! From 8-11 pm the child DOES. NOT. COPE. I've heard about this form of "colic" before. The kind where there's a time of day where life is a living hell. And for Daphne it's from 8-11. *sigh*
And do I feel like PPD is trying to rear it's ugly head? Not sure yet. I think - I THINK - I'm still struggling from baby blues mixed with my own personally-placed anxiety in anticipation of the possibility. I dunno. Cross your fingers for me. Or maybe your arms, while on your knees... with your head bowed.
I digress. Because this post is supposed to be about Daphne and not about me. How lame am I. But since all she does it eat, sleep and poop all day, there's really not a lot I can say about her just yet that pictures won't do better. So here youse go.
The ever-flattering pre-op photo [/sarcasm]
In the buff, fresh outta' the womb
Proud Papa Picture a la' Myspace
That weird, goopy eye crap they put on newborns (we still don't know what color they are)
First child I held within the 1st hour. Not even 1/2 an hour and I was nursing her. YAY!
Future SI Swimsuit model
Proud sister
CC warming up... sort of. I know I have pictures of her actually HOLDING her sister. But they're on my camera. Somewhere. Missing. I probably lost it to the hospital gods. @#$%.
How I spent the 1st 72 hours of her life.
Is she actually smiling?! (Sh. Don't tell Daddy it's probably gas).
Post 1st sponge bath
From Malia's perspective
I know... right?!07 March 2012
Before I REALLY Don't Have Time...
Baby/Daughter/Blessing #3's coming in less than 3 days. I just realized there are still no postings regarding last Christmas or even the girls' birthdays. That's just sad.
So here's the drive-by (and highly photographed) version. Try to keep up.
So here's the drive-by (and highly photographed) version. Try to keep up.
Cecily turns 3!
The birthday girl
The birthday decor
The birthday aftermath/loot
CC approves the cake...
As does Malia...
As does Daddy
A little post-birthday celebration Wii
And finish off the hard-core partying with a thumbDisneyland Trip Sandwiched In-Between Birthdays
As always, visit Tinkerbell, first and foremost
A drinking fountain for everyone
Splurge (and I mean SPLURGE!) on a face painting...
... times 2.
Get extra birthday attention from a real live princess...... and then Mommy gets sad because both her camera and her phone die. But, trust me... we had a good (expensive) time. (Our passes expired the day after this) :(
Malia turns 6!
Squeeze presents in before dance class
This is the part that's impressive: I had been promising Malia a birthday party all year. But December got really overwhelming and I broke that promise. When I asked her what she'd like to do instead, she said, "Bowling." (No clue why). We took her to this immaculate location near where we were planning on having dinner, and they were closed for some private party (this place wouldn't take reservations when I had asked a week or two before). And Malia didn't shed a single tear! She just accepted it! It was awesome. So, we just headed early to our reservations at "Goofy's Kitchen."
Goofy's Kitchen: Totally overpriced but the girls LOVED all the characters and Dave was pleasantly surprised that everything he ate he thought was delicious. Minnie Mouse even came over to give them a special cupcake and sing "Happy Birthday."
"I'm 6!"Pre-Christmas Christmas
Opening presents from family the night before leaving for WA so we don't have to pack them
"Daddy? Can you help me open this?"
"You're taking too long - I need to entertain myself...".
Malia made this for her parents for ChristmasChristmas In Issaquah
I try to get the girls outside at least 30 minutes a day - a lot harder in a wet, cold place. Thank goodness Grandma's house had a trampoline.
And thank goodness Daddy was willing to jump, since Preg-o Mommy couldn't
"Jump higher, Daddy!"
Trying to make up for the birthday-bowling-mishap
Even CC tried.... once.
Grandma April was good about assisting Malia since Mommy pulled a ligament picking up a ridiculously-too-heavy-for-a-pregnant-woman bowling ball
CC decided keeping score was more fun than playing
The air hockey table looked exciting (for about 1 minute)Christmas Day
The girls were actually pretty good sports about having to open presents AFTER going to Church
CC spends a lot of time on getting each toy out of their boxes after they've been unwrapped
Some of the bigger toys are gifts to them both 
Spend oodles of cash on gifts for children - child latches on to Slinky worth $1.
CC lost interest in toys and just wanted food - typicalNew Year's
Last year we went to the beach on New Year's Day, which is something I hope to make a tradition as long as we live near the ocean. However, January 1st fell on the Sabbath this year, so we went to the beach on New Year's Eve.
What is it with kids and chasing birds? 
Defiant CC
Compliant CC
Pretty girls
That night, we took the girls out on a NYE "date" to Olive Garden where we all got dressed in our Sunday best. Then we came home and had a small party before getting the girls to bed on time (our new Church time slot the next morning was going to be 9:00 - no need to make it any harder than it was already going to be).
Our party attire
CC eating white chocolate popcorn
CC eating more popcorn
"Happy New Year!" (at 7:45 PM PST)
The aftermath
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