This, fans, is an excerpt from what will be Cambridge's baby book:
Here is the story of how you made your way into this world:
Saturday, June 7th, 2014: Last night Kilala (our cat) was acting super strangely, racing around downstairs and cutting daddy off at every turn. She followed him upstairs to the bedroom where I was trying to sleep, and then she came in and started circling the bed and meowing. Not long afterwards, I felt a cold, wet nose on my arm as she nudged me repeatedly and put her face right up into mine. After she had my attention, she laid down next to me and wouldn’t leave.
Well, I was on fire anyway from being pregnant so I kicked her reluctant body off the bed. When I got up at 4:15am, I noticed her sleeping on the floor next to the bed on a little brown pillow. She never sleeps in our room, and she hardly ever sleeps on the bed. Both your father and I were scared that she could sense something – either your impending birth or one of us was about to die (like those creepy cats at the nursing homes that sit by the bed of the person who is going to die next).
Turns out she was right that something was up. When I got up at 4:15am, I noticed a lot of blood. I didn’t feel different, and I didn’t have contractions, but I was sleepy and didn’t know what I should do. Should I wake daddy and risk being wrong and getting yelled at? Should I call Grandma Nancy to have her start her 1.5 hr. drive to the house? Standing alone in the dark bathroom, I just felt like something was off so I decided to wake daddy and not go back to sleep.
Not only was it the middle of the night, but it was storming and not ideal conditions for driving so those things in combination made me not want to call someone in case it was a false alarm. I showered, washed my hair, did my makeup, packed, cleaned up the house. I started to have contractions so I called Grandma Nancy at 5:00. She left right away, and the contractions started getting stronger and closer together. I guess you were coming.
Unfortunately, half of the major roads in the city were closed for construction, delaying grandma even more. When grandma arrived at 6:50, daddy and I headed for the hospital. Since it was a Saturday, there wasn’t a doctor at the hospital, she was on call. I was only dilated to 4cm and was only 50% effaced, and the doctor wasn’t supposed to arrive until 9:00am so they had me go down to the first floor hallway and walk for an hour to see if things would change, meaning I could then stay at the hospital.
There I was, all stylish in my hospital gown and robe, walking the halls and stopping for contractions to spread my feet and sway back and forth like a complete idiot. Fun stuff. Towards the end of the hour, I felt a gush of warm liquid, and I said to daddy, “I think my water broke!” Afraid to leave a puddle on the carpet, I raced to the nearest bathroom only to find a blood clot the size of a fist – looked like liver. So gross. We hurried back up to the birthing center, and they said I could stay. You think?
Contractions were getting painful so I got some IV medications and an epidural. There was a point, however, when I lost over a liter of blood, and that combined with getting the epidural sent my blood pressure plummeting to 50/20. Nausea set in, and then all I could sense was that I was getting farther and farther away. I could hear everything as people swarmed the room and they tried to get my blood pressure back up with 2 shots epinephrine.
I could feel them putting an oxygen mask on me and saying something about placing a monitor on your head. Why couldn’t I speak or open my eyes? I just felt so far away. Slowly, I came back and was able to respond, but I was just drained. Daddy was pale and spooked and had to leave the room. Your heart rate bounced back quickly – quicker than I did.
I wondered how I would have any energy to push since I hadn’t eaten anything all day, and having my blood pressure drop took everything out of me, but sugar from a grape and an orange popsicle later, I was feeling a little better. Ever the oversharer and over-communicator, Daddy asked me, “Would you rather poop yourself during labor or throw up?” I said I’d rather poo because I hated throwing up. (I’m sorry – its gross, but it’s what happened).
At some point, they broke my water, and at 4:05pm, it was time to push. My epidural wasn’t as strong as it was when I had your brother so I could feel and move my feet, and I could feel the contractions. About 45 minutes later at 4:47pm, you were born face up! It was a surprise to the doctor and everyone else in the room. Only 10% of babies are born face up; it’s more work for the mother, and usually those babies need help getting out. Yeah, I’m awesome.
Because I lost so much blood, they pumped me full of over 3.5 liters of fluids, turning my feet into swollen wood ticks and my ankles into super kankles. Ah, the sacrifices I make for my boys.
June is a busy month for birthdays and anniversaries in our family, and you kept dodging events with each passing week that you refused to come out. Fortunately and unfortunately, you chose to share Grandpa Ron’s birthday with him and Great Uncle Willie’s birthday too – a popular day to be born! Lucky you.
We all had guesses going on what your weight would be: Mommy’s guess was 8 pounds, 3 oz; daddy’s guess was an even 8 pounds; the nurse thought you’d be 8 pounds 2 oz; and the doctor thought 8 pounds, 7 oz. We went with The Price Is Right rules - whoever was closest without going over... You were 8 pounds, 1 ounce and 21 inches long (I don’t know why everyone wants to know all of the stats… like you’re a piece of meat).
For so long I thought that I had wanted a little girl, and only she would make me happy. However, God had other plans for our family, and I loved you from the moment I saw you… and in that moment, I knew that our family was finally complete.
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Cyndi M. Frick
This lifestyle blog is my outlet to share and advise about the things I love. I always have an opinion!