Our Family of 5: An Update

I knew I needed to blog everything that has been happening in our lives in the three short weeks since Drew joined it, but I didn't know how to pare it all down. So instead, here it is: an update.

Drew-Boo:
Oh my, son, you are a champion nurser. You were born 8 pounds, 7 ounces. We made it all the way down to 7 pounds, 7 ounces when we had our two day check up at the doctor's office. On Wednesday, at my breast-feeding support group, you weighed in at 9 pounds, 14 ounces. Holy hell. And you have been consistently been eating about 4-4.5 ounces each time I have gone in and weighed you. Good Lord, boy! BUT, in all that, I am thrilled that we are having such a great nursing experience. I went into this breastfeeding experience with a very different expectation than I had with Catherine. I bought formula ahead of time to prepare for those cluster feeding experiences that I hated so much with Catherine. But I have only used two ounces, one ounce two different times. And it was during cluster feeding both times. The past 24 hours have been difficult as you have been nursing consistently about every two hours. And that includes the hour or so that you will nurse. Last night, you nursed from 3:30 p.m. until 7:00 p.m. and then from 9:30 p.m. to 11:30 p.m. It was tough, especially because Eric wasn't feeling well, but otherwise, we kept on keepin' on.

You are growing so quickly, I am putting your newborn onesies away (22 inches long already!), and your newborn pants won't really fit around your size 1 diapers. But because I sold so many of James' clothes, you have a mish-mash of clothing items that don't really fit. Not to mention, the only pacifier we seem to be able to find is one of Catherine's old ones, which is pink and has a heart on the front. Sooo, for that, I'm sorry. Today, at the grocery store, I could tell the person talking to me about "the baby" couldn't tell if he was a girl or a boy. The onesie says boy, the pacifier says girl. Hmmm, sorry son!

James is absolutely smitten with you. He tells us all the time that he "loves Droob." It's amazing. Catherine is a little bit more indifferent, but she does try to help with you when you're crying by shoving our only pacifier into your eye. Right area, wrong orifice. But, she tries.

Speaking of Catherine:

Our Sweet Catherine:
I have some intense mom-guilt when it comes to our little girl. I wish I would have known what I know now about breastfeeding. I wish I would have done things differently with her. I wonder if I would have how many things would be different.

We finally got an appointment with the ENT clinic, which was yesterday, and the news we received was devastating to me as a mommy. According to your hearing test, you can hear the equivalent of if you or I had our fingers in our ears. When the doctor was telling us that, I thought, "Oh, well, that explains a little bit." However, I didn't realize how much until I actually tried it in the privacy of our bedroom after putting Drew down. I was shocked. You can hardly hear anything, little girl, and it makes me feel terrible for being short with you when you don't do something that I ask you to do. Or when I have put you in time out when you didn't follow my directions etc. Because you can't hear shit! It breaks my heart. Thankfully, surgery will be happening fairly quickly thanks to the fact they had an opening March 8. The doctor said once you have surgery, odds are your hearing will be 100%. Which makes me feel better, but not that much better.

We have a sound machine that we have used in your room since you were a baby because James can be really loud after you've gone to bed (and you still go to bed at 6:30 and James not until 7:30/8:00), so we have been using this sound machine to drown out all the noises a little boy makes. I realized last night you probably can't even hear it. And that made me incredibly sad. You can hear music, and you dance to it, but I guarantee it's just the bass beats. It's interesting to think about, and it makes me feel awful. Even though, in this case, there was nothing that I could do to help the fluid in your ears, but holy cow. I am trying to forgive myself, but it's difficult. There are so many things I know now that I wish I could go back and change.

James Thomas: 
Oh buddy, you are amazing. In every awe-inspiring, horrifying sense of the word. You are loud, you are opinionated, you are FUNNY (when did you get a sense of humor??) and you are having a tough time at daycare. Thinking about it today, when you started daycare, you had four friends who were, essentially, the same age as you. There is only one of those friends left. You keep talking about starting school, which should be happening next year (pretty exciting!), and you so badly want to be like the "big kids." So it's hard when you fight us to go to daycare. We get it. It's hard to go to a place that has changed so much. And I feel badly for you, But at the end of the day, what an important life lesson you are learning. And I"m sure it's harder on mom than it is on you, but holy cow, what a battle it has become. Hopefully, it goes away soon.

You love "Droob" and tell us this all the time. When Drew first came home, I was worried because you started treating Catherine pretty poorly. Taking her toys, shoving her down, and just overall not being very nice. Luckily, that is subsiding, and you're sliding into your role as a big brother. It's adorable, as you always want to make sure you are kissing "Droob" good night, and one night, when I came downstairs to grab some water and Drew started crying, I heard you on the monitor saying, "It's ok, buddy." Melt my heart!

You are such a lover and a fighter rolled up into this loud little ball of boy. I am enjoying this trip and you certainly keep things interesting!

The Kitchen:

Ohhhhh, the kitchen. Ugh. It's slow-going, but at least I am no longer walking on a combo of sub-floor, 70's linoleum, 90's linoleum, and our new flooring. Eric was able to rip it all out two days ago and now I am just walking on sub floor and our new flooring. Hopefully, Eric will be able to install it sometime this weekend.

All of our cabinets are in, all the handles are on the cabinets, and I have begun arranging the kitchen the way I want. Although it's extremely stressful, which Eric makes fun of me for. I am having a hard time figuring out where I want to put things. I actually don't really like our lazy susan's, and luckily, they came with a shelf you can use instead. Even though it's going to be a bitch, Eric is going to uninstall the lazy susan's and just install the shelves for me. For the things I will be keeping in there, it's more feasible to have shelving anyway. So I have been SLOOOOOWLY putting things here and there, and I think I like the set-up I have going. Eric teases me that even if I decide, I can change my mind. The thing he doesn't understand is I think things through greatly before I execute. So then when I execute, I only have to do so once and not have to think about it anymore. However, this time, I don't know if what I decide is actually going to work, or if everything will be fit, or if I will have to change it. I don't want to do that. So I am thinking it through A LOT. Oh well! It's working out so far!

I was able to put every single glass Anchor and Corningware dish that I own (which happens to be at least 20 - WTF?) in ONE CABINET. That's awesome. I used to have to keep them in the hutch that my dad built me. Some of those glass baking dishes have never seen the oven. Or the dishwasher. The countertop was installed, everything has been painted, we are slooooowly picking out backsplash, which has proven to be very difficult. Eric doesn't want the thin glass tile that is so in right now, because that's just it: it's "in." Soon, it will be "out" and we want a classic kitchen that will hold for the next seven years, as our seven year plan is to move to a bigger house. Wahoo!

Slowly, but surely, our kitchen is coming along, with all the other things Eric has been doing, is actually a miracle. I am hoping that we will be able to finish it by the time April rolls around. I think the goal was going to be before Drew-boo came along, but obviously, that was a pipe dream!

Eric and Me:

I am thoroughly enjoying my maternity leave, and thankfully, Drew has been a great baby, so I am glad to help him out. Next, I am hoping that we will get into our taxes, as I would really like to have those done as soon as possible! We shall see.

We are in desperate need of a date night, but he has been working at home the past week, so I have been able to see him and we are able to spend a lot of time together when Drew is sleeping, which is nice.

I go back to school April 4, but I am thinking of taking another two weeks. Eric doesn't know this, but now that I'm staring down the barrel of week 4 of my maternity leave, I really don't know if I will be ready to go back at week 8. Week 10 would probably be better, and I know I will be able to do that. I plan to broach the subject with Eric this weekend sometime, so hopefully, he will be supportive of it. We shall see - it will be another two weeks of unpaid time, but I think for my breastfeeding experience, and for how much I have been breastfeeding, it will be worth it. We will see. There is no way that I want to be a stay at home mom, but I do want to spend this time with my last baby.

Speaking of last baby, yes, this is our last baby. The Iowa Urology Clinic phone number is the only thing on our fridge. Eric just has to call (because I'm not doing it for him!). I am slowly gathering stuff for my second "No More Kids" Yard Sale, and all in all, we are cruising through as a family of five. It's been fairly easy to throw a third into the fray. I believe going from one to two is much more difficult than two to three. People talk about zone defense with the third, but so far, it's been fairly easy. I am thankful for that.

Eric has been a rock star, Drew has fit into the picture nicely, Catherine's hearing and speaking issues will hopefully be resolved by summer, and James is well on his way to being ready for Pre-School. I am so thankful for our little family and I am ready to be done with this "having babies" part of my life.

No really, this was our last one. ;)

Drew Michael Engels

I wanted to name this post something like, "Welcome to the Shitshow!" but decided that your name was a more appropriate title! But I want to get your birth story down on this blog before I forget all the beautiful events that took place one week ago today (already??). 

My last pregnancy update (EVER) was definitely on point. I woke up nervous, jittery and I had a very bad feeling about how this labor and delivery was going to go. In all, I am glad I convinced my doctor that you were going to be a big boy and you came early, with the help of drugs, otherwise it could have been a bad situation. 

Wednesday night, the night before I was induced with you, Grandma Terri came down to stay with James since he had the flu and couldn't go to daycare the following day. Thank God for Grandma's! So your dad and I were up bright and early, getting ready to go. We ate breakfast, said our good-bye's and headed out. It was much less emotional than when we went to the hospital to have Catherine, most likely because this wasn't our first, or even second, rodeo. However, it is always surreal, that ride to the hospital, where you realize that no matter what, you are going to come back a family of five. 

We checked in, they gave us the crappiest room on the floor (seriously. And what's even more interesting about that is that a couple of nurses said it was the least busy they had been in a long time and had a ton of rooms open. Ummmmm, so, could we have gotten a bigger one, with a better bed for Eric?), and they got the pitocin started. 

It was slow-going at first, but the nurse also said they didn't want to rush into it before I could get my epidural. So Eric and I passed the time by hanging out, playing on our phones, talking about your name (Drew Michael was about the most concrete of names we had decided on for any of our children thus far. I knew you were going to be Drew before you were born, definitely), watching the contractions on the monitor. We guessed when you were going to get here, and since Catherine was born around 2:30, and knowing that once my body got going, it new how to labor and deliver a baby, I guessed you would be 8 pounds 3 ounces, born at 1:15 p.m. Eric guessed 9 pounds (thanks a lot!) born at 1:30 p.m. 

But I labored very slowly this time. I didn't want to have the epidural as early as I did with Catherine and be incapacitated that long, so I waited as long as I felt comfortable and finally asked for it about 10:30 a.m. It was an excrutiating experience, but it was the best epidural I have had thus far. The anesthesiologist kept hitting me on the right side. So she would take the needle out and put it back in. It was a long 5 minutes or so, but finally, she hit the money spot, and throughout the course of labor, I could move both my legs and still had some sensation. Not feeling by any means, but I could tell when someone was touching my leg etc. 

So 1:15 p.m. and 1:30 p.m. came and went. Eric's mom arrived about that time, but I was only at an 8. About 2:30, I was about a 9 and finally about 3:00, I was a 10, but there was a lip of my cervix that was caught at the top of your head. 

At 3:00, Dr. Dejong came in and broke down the table to start pushing. Now, at this point, I had not had anything to eat since 6:30 a.m. and I was STARVING. So when I started pushing, I thought I was going to throw up! The pushing was excrutiating, and even though I am a champion birther, it was so tough. I pushed with everything I had, but seemed like I was progressing so slowly. Thankfully, I could feel the contractions ramp up and worked with my body to push through them. Eric was amazing, per usual, and cheered me on, kept my face cool with a wash cloth and overall, was a champ in his own right. You have a pretty amazing dad. 

So I clamped down and pushed and pushed and pushed. Finally, I was told they could see your head and how much hair you had (WHAT? I was having a child born with HAIR?)! But you were slow to come out. Once you did, they told me to stop pushing, with an urgency that even had me opening my eyes (the first time I have ever done so during a labor) to see what was wrong. 

The cord was wrapped around your neck three times. This is what I meant above when I said that had we waited for me to go into labor naturally, and you could have come very quickly, or the cord could have twisted even more, it could have been dangerous for you. 

So I waited and breathed through contractions as Dr. Dejong pulled on the cord to loosen it. It was hard to get his scissors in to cut it, but he managed and they told me to push one more time through a contraction. I remember the precise moment I opened my eyes with James and saw him come out, I remember the precise moment I opened my eyes and saw Catherine come out, I remember the precise moment I opened my eyes and saw you come out. Three of the most beautiful moments in my life. 

They put you on my chest, but true to form, you were stubborn and didn't want to breathe, so they whisked you away and put you on the table. 

I cannot remember what your dad said to me after James and Catherine were born, but this time, I will never forget it. He took my hand, leaned down and simply said, "I love you." It was one of the most sincere, raw moments between your dad and I. It was lovely and I will never forget it. 

Of course, then true to form, your good ole mom shooed Eric away to make sure you were doing ok while Dr. Dejong worked on me. It took me a long time to actually see you. I was surprised that I didn't cry, even when they put you on my chest, but I really think it's because I didn't SEE you. 

Finally, they brought you over to me, and there you were. Beautiful. And there I was, crying. 

8 pounds, 7 ounces, 21 inches long at 3:23 p.m. I didn't push for long, but it seemed like an eternity as every time I pushed, I was meeting the resistance of a cord that was wrapped tightly around your neck. It was as slow as James, it wasn't as quick as Catherine, but it was still beautiful. You are beautiful. 

All in all, it was a lovely day. My mom, your grandma, came in an hour or so afterward, while the nurse was helping me get cleaned up in the bathroom. When I came out, she was holding you in the rocking chair and crying. 

It was the first of our kids where I had seen her cry like that. I know it was because she was remembering my dad. 

All while we were preparing for your birth, all I could ever seem to think about was my dad. It still astounds me that your due date was February 5th. Even though that's one day earlier than the date of his death, it still happened to fall on the exact day. And that due date never wavered. Every time I was measured, with each ultrasound, I was reassured that by God, you were due February 5th. Even our 20 week ultrasound, where sometimes the head circumference says a different date than the development of the organs etc., everything lined up perfectly with February 5th. 

I think that's why I was leery of your labor and delivery. I had yet to see a sign from my dad. No cardinals. No looking at the clock randomly and seeing 11:11 (your birthday, in fact). No signs that were otherwise telling me it would be ok. 

Even after you were born, I didn't see any sign from my dad, telling me he was there. Even when I was pushing, toward the end when I was getting really tired, it seemed like I wasn't making any progress and I was feeling like I was going to throw up, I'm pretty sure I said, "C'mon dad, throw me a bone here!" There was still nothing. 

So in the wee hours of February 6th, the nurse came in to wake me up to nurse you. She left you with me, and since you were still only stirring, I took a few moments to wake myself up. I propped myself up in bed, and there was my sign. 

A red hat, donated by the American Heart Association. 

Seems trivial, and maybe a bit weird, but it was what was written on the pamphlet that really got me. "February is American Heart Month. In support, we ask that you post a photo of your new little one wearing their red hat on social media!" 

So, that is my goal for you today. I will post a picture in memory of my dad, one of the greatest men I knew.

You are perfect. In every sense of the word. Welcome to the shitshow, son. :) 

39 + 5

This week has been a little bit better than the last. Saturday and Sunday were tough, no joke. However, I was able to survive them. Barely. Eric worked god-awful hours (until 3 a.m. Monday morning god-awful). I have been having inconsistent contractions consistently, which is annoying. And I am just starting to feel like crap. Awesome.

In all, tomorrow's birth has me nervous, excited, scared, and exhausted. I am nervous it won't be as easy as the last two. I'm excited to meet you. I'm scared because of the afterbirth that I know will come because of it, and I am exhausted just thinking about three kids under the age of 4. Hopefully, somehow, I will survive it. Hopefully, this little family of 5 will survive it.

Random Thoughts from This Week: I have birthed two children, but for some reason, I am really scared to go in tomorrow.
Maternity clothes? Of course, but from now on, it shall be sweatshirts and yoga pants! Hip-hip-hooray!
Weight gain? Probably. I have done nothing but eat like crap and swell up like a sausage.
Stretch marks? Nope!
Best moment this week? The fact that today was my last day at school for a few months?
Worst moment this week? Today was, in fact, my last day, but I also had to leave early to get James because he has the flu! Luckily, my mother-in-law is here now and will be watching him tomorrow. Hallelujah!
What the doctor says: Nothing because I am being induced tomorrow!
Any symptoms? Contractions, lightning crotch, and overall just not feeling very well. Very tired, very ready to be done being pregnant!
Movement? Yes, surprisingly quite a bit!
Anything make you queasy or sick? Not really!
Looking forward to: At the end of all of this, I will be meeting my little man tomorrow. It seems like only yesterday we were bringing home a cross-eyed James Thomas and a scowly Little Miss Catherine Lynn. Crazy how this time has flown.

Here's to tomorrow, and our little family of 5.