He's Here! ... Like, 9 weeks ago...

Needless to say, blogging takes a bit of a back seat when you have this precious bundle in your arms...

Let's start from the beginning...

It was the 20th of September. 3 days past due and family was coming in that night, with the exception of my sister, who would be here the following Sunday. I still wasn't over being pregnant, but I was feeling the pressure to have this baby. Family would only be here a week, so I had 6 days to go into labor if I wanted them to be able to meet him.

Basically, I was resigned to the fact that I was going to have a nice visit with my family, then have the baby after they left. And I wasn't being very happy about it either.

I am positive I did everything humanly possible to naturally evict the child - minus castor oil, which Doc explicitly told me to avoid - walking. Walking swiftly. Nearly jogging. Bouncing for a total of what had to be 18 days on a yoga ball. Eating: Pineapple. Spicy stuff. Hot showers.

But, the bottom line of pregnancy is this - that baby is not coming unless that babies lungs produce enough surfactant to trigger contractions/thin the amniotic sac enough for it to break. No matter how many pineapples you choke down.

So, brother, dad and mom came and we did some fun stuff for a couple days! It was distracting and fun, but I was still feeling pressure to go into labor. Feeling pressure to do something you have no control over is very frustrating as I'm sure you can imagine, so I was a bit stressed.

You would think I would learn by now that as soon as I stop stressing over something, it happens perfectly. As soon as I stop stressing about money, we get the money we need. As soon as I give my desires to God, He blesses us with a baby boy, and as soon as I stopped stressing about going into labor... my water breaks.

And whoever said it feels like peeing your pants evidently doesn't have the same anatomy as me, because that is not what it felt like. It felt like my water broke. Here I am, getting ready for a shower after a day of labor induction techniques, and my water breaks. God saw fit to ensure that I was on the laminate in my bathroom instead of my rug (thank You!!), and that's awesome because it. went. everywhere. Whoever said it feels like peeing your pants must have a bladder like Mt. Vesuvius because when it went, it WENT, and there's no time in my life, as long as I have held my urine, that I had THAT much urine.

I kind of stood there like "Did that just happen..." for a few minutes and anyone who has ever gone over their due date knows you kind of resign yourself to being pregnant forever so this was a bit of a shock, and then I just got into the shower like nothing happened. I had to compose myself and enjoy my last shower alone for a loooonnnggg time, see... I was so focused on this that I didn't even tell anyone that my water had broken for a good half hour. Eventually, Dan came in to check on me right as I was getting out of the shower and I was like "pack the bags! Water broke!" He looked at me with this "are you serious/stunned/don't know whether to believe you or not" look on his face and I just stood there with this "I'm totally serious" look on my face until he realized this was the real thing and said "...okayyy then!" And went and told my family, including my sister, who had literally arrived 2 hours before all this happened. Jack was evidently just waiting for Aunt Jess.

The last minute items are packed, the front seat of the car is lined with a trashbag and towels, and Dan and I head to the hospital. This is about an hour after my water has broken and I am already having some pretty steady contractions, but I was so excited I barely noticed them. I walked into labor and delivery triage with a towel between my legs and I was still dripping everywhere. The triage nurse asked if I was sure my water broke...Dan and I just laughed. Yes, this dripping wet towel and the trail of clear fluid behind me better not be anything but my amniotic fluid or I will be very concerned for my health.

As soon as she saw the towel we were good to go. She did all the things they have to do at check in and everything was good except I had a temp... 99.7, so they weren't too excited about it. She takes me to my room and this is where I thank God my husband has a better memory than me, because he asked if I could have THE room. The ultimate room. The room... with the TUB. And then I thank God that this room was open, you'll see why as I get further into the story. Evidently, you're only allowed to have that room if you're trying to go without an epidural, and that was my plan, so we got all cozy in our room. I changed into my AWESOME birthing gown( which I got made fun of for by my friends but it was way more comfy than the hospital one and I will definitely pay the 27 dollars I paid for it again with my next kid if we are so blessed), got hooked up to the IV (directly against the birth plan, but having a fever wasn't in the birth plan either... lesson #1 - birth plans are almost useless), and settled in with some Facebook and Netflix. I realized I had left my birthing ball (!!!! AGH!) at home, so Dan called mom and dad to bring that and the sparkling grape juice so we could celebrate after the birth. They came for about 30 minutes and I said I would call when anything happened or the birth was getting close. Here I thought that would be in about 10 hours...

Basically the moment I sat down in the bed I realized I should probably try to get some sleep in between contractions. I hadn't slept the night before at all thanks to contractions and the cold I was fighting off, and not the night before that either because, well, my hips hurt. I was basically exhausted already, but adrenaline is a wonderful thing and I was ready to have this baby. I tried to sleep for a while after everyone was updated. Dan slept next to me in the chair. By now, contractions were intense, about 4-5 minutes apart, so I wasn't really sleeping, but dozing in between was better than nothing. At about 5 AM the contractions were painful enough that I couldn't stay reclined in the bed comfortably, so I moved to the ball. This ball saved my very sanity. Highly recommended. With the distraction of the ball, I was able to watch some Netflix with Dan and pass some time, although for the life of me I couldn't tell you what we watched now.

Around this time Doc came to check me for progress. 8 hours into active labor and I was at a! ..... 3. Oh boy. This could be a long day if things didn't speed up. As protocol goes when having a hospital birth, you have to deliver by 24 hours after your waters break to save the risk of infection. I knew this and while pregnant definitely thought that wouldn't be a concern. I am a young, in shape mother, after all. Sometimes, knowing what hospital policy is and the medical side of things is a bummer, because this is when I started to worry about impending c-section thoughts. These are never good for a laboring mother. Being convinced that a c-section was only going to happen if either myself or my child were going to die if I didn't consent, I went all out. I got on that ball and bounced and breathed through the contractions and relaxed and remembered to keep my jaw loose. I decided after about an hour that it was time to get in the tub for some relief.

The tub was NOT relief. It made the contractions feel twice as intense, but the warmth relaxed my other muscles, so that was worth the endeavor. I was also excited about any intensity at this point, because I felt that meant I was progressing.

Wrong.

Doc came in at around 8, three hours post last check, and I was a 4. Well, okay, at least I'm still progressing, if only slowly. I was sure I could convince them that I was not to have a c-section if I was still progressing, so I relaxed a bit here.

Interjection: I have the most fabulous birthing coach in existence in my husband. He was there for every contraction, stabilizing me on the ball, reminding me to relax my body, he controlled his breathing and told me to breathe with him. Massages, ice chips, suckers, or just a hand to hold, I had it, he did it and he was there. So blessed.

I labored normally, in and out of the tub for 2 more hours. The nurse came in and checked me. Still a four. No progress in 2 hours. At this point I'm 13 hours into labor... I have 11 hours to get from a 4 to delivered, when it's taken me 13 to get to a 4. Not looking good, folks... not looking good. The most frustrating part of all was what she said next.

She said the P word.

Pitocin.

Um. No!? Pitocin = epidural. Anyone who has any experience with birth generally knows that when not progressing, thusly put on pitocin, you end up with an epidural, then usually a section.

She told me Doc wanted me on pitocin because of the time window I had and my lack of progression for the last couple hours. I refused. Flat out. She said she could give me 2 more hours to try to get me to progress some more, but then it was really necessary for me to get things moving.

I was miffed. So upset that I had chosen a hospital birth at this point, because I know that everything was fine and I just needed more than 24 hours. The baby looked beautiful and I was doing fine. I did my best to channel that emotion into determination, but I was upset. Very, very upset. It was at this point that I got in the tub and basically stayed there for 2 hours working through the contractions. I was trying everything I knew to relax my body and make the contractions more intense. Let me tell you, trying to get the contractions to be more intense was a mind and willpower struggle if there ever was one. When all you want is to get this over with because it hurts, doing stuff you know will make them more intense is so not my idea of fun.

Two hours later. The moment has come! I am feeling so. exhausted right now. I am ready to hear that I am at a 6 and I'll probably be pushing in an hour. Instead, I hear that I'm stuck. Stuck. Still at a 4. At this point unless I literally want to remove myself from hospital premises, I have to get the pitocin. So, back up to my IV and in the pitocin goes. Lowest dose possible.

As soon as that pitocin hit my brain contractions were double the intensity. I will give you a brief synopsis of what happened over the next 6 hours.
-2 hours post pitocin: 4 cm. Double the dose.
-4 hours post pitocin: 4 cm. Double the previous dose.
-6 hours post pitocin: 4 cm. Double previous dose.

At this point I am on so much pitocin I think my blood is half pitocin half actual blood cells. With each contraction I feel like I might legitimately die with the next one. I am not saying this to exaggerate, I was actually feeling like my heart could not handle another contraction. I am at this point 16 hours into labor, the last six of which have been from hell. I am exhausted. My contractions are 10 seconds apart. No typo there, I literally mean 10 seconds. They are lasting 2 minutes. I'm falling asleep sitting up in the ten seconds I have between contractions.

During my contractions I would go to another place... a place in my head set aside for dealing with the contraction and ONLY dealing with the contraction. Before now, this was voluntary, and I could come out of it if I needed to during the middle of one. At this point it was no longer voluntary, and I felt like I was losing my head a little bit. I am sure part of this was exhaustion, as I hadn't slept more than 2 hours at a time for 72 hours, but I am sure part of that is that nobody is meant to feel that amount of pain for that duration that close together. I was going into neurological shock now, Dan was holding me up in the sitting position in the 10 seconds between contractions and blowing in my face to remind me to breathe during contractions. In the two minute span of a contraction I would cry, but had no energy to actually cry, so it ended up just being tears without actual crying. That was new. And it was disturbing to everyone in the room. Somehow, through all of this going on in the outside world, the baby still looked great on the inside.

It was now 4 PM, and I continued this way until 8 PM. Sometimes I am too stubborn for my own good. The nurse came in to check me and I barely remember this part, but I know she said I was MAYBE a 4.5. After continuing in the most intense pain I have ever felt for this long, the only thing I could think was that it was all for nothing. I had two options.

1. Resign myself to the fact that I was in shock, not progressing, and more than likely ending this birth in a cesarean, and get the epidural now, to have a bit of rest before they wheel me away.
2. Continue how I was for 3.5 more hours, until they come in and tell me I haven't progressed any more and they're doing a cesarean.

As you can see, I and everyone else in the room were thinking c-section was how this was going to end. I went through 3 more contractions after she upped the dose of pitocin yet again. I literally could not take a breath during those three contractions, my uterus was so very hard and so large, it was pressing against my diaphragm and I could only breath in little puffs of air at a time for 2 - 2.5 minutes at a time. Again I was falling asleep for the 10 second break, and again, Dan had to remind me to breathe. I remember thinking "I am not even going to be able to hold my baby once I deliver him." And that was it, I was done and this endeavor to do it without any pain medication was no longer worth it. I told Dan to bring the nurse in, I wanted an epidural.

I told the anesthesiologist that I wanted the lowest dose possible, just enough that I could actually breathe and relax a bit. Hardest part of my entire labor? Holding still while he was doing the epidural and I was having contractions. Fortunately, he was quick and it only took two contractions.

I felt better almost immediately. I could feel my brain fog going away and I could focus on the fact that I would be holding my baby soon. The best part was that it was exactly what I wanted. I still felt pain (in other words, I still felt my entire pelvis being ripped apart by contractions), I could still wiggle my toes and lift my legs fairly easily. I fell asleep even through the pain.

The nurse checked me as soon as I had the epidural and I was a 6! The pitocin dose was dropped dramatically at this point. I had obviously gotten that far before I had the epidural, so I felt good that I broke through that stuck phase without the help of meds. Right now I am so exhausted I'm hilarious. I don't even remember what I was saying being funny, but everyone would laugh and I was just saying what I was thinking. I fell asleep and slept for about 45 minutes of glorious sleep when I woke with a contraction that was noticeably more intense and I ask everyone why my ears are burning. I figured it was simply a reaction to the epidural and nothing to worry about. Dan got the nurse to check me and sure enough, I was a 9 - 9.5 and would be pushing soon. This is at 10 PM... I have until 11 to deliver naturally.

As the nurse is checking me she tells me I feel extremely warm and she wants to take my temp. Sure enough, I have a fever. 103.4... Seriously?? Me = petrified that meant immediate c-section, but to my surprise she pumped me full of cold fluids, tylenol and antibiotics and 30 minutes later it was down to below 100.

In that 30 minutes I decided I didn't care anymore, either my epi was wearing off or it wasn't working, because I was in the same amount of pain as I was earlier and I was pushing. The nurse wasn't in the room, Doc wasn't in the building, but I was pushing. This baby was going to be here, and he was going to be here before I had to have a c-section. I did not, after all, come all this way for nothing.

Well, after about 5 pushes I realized that pushing is actually a bit of work and that I was tired. The nurse checked me again and I was ready to really actually push. The glorious 10 cm I had longed for. Right now I am still hilarious. I say what I think are normal things to say during the final stage of labor and evidently normally women don't say anything, they scream... so saying anything must have been funny. About 5 more pushes and I'm well and truly done. I lost sight of the goal you could say. I was literally having contractions and would just lay there. I was far too exhausted to push, you know. Well, that is, until Dan told me there was hair and that it was dark. Dan likes to say that I would push a little bit and then the head would disappear again, but as soon as he said that my resolve was renewed! and I pushed so well that the head was halfway out in one push.

This was very intense for me and probably the most amazing time of my whole life. I was in SO much pain, and I remember feeling that pain. My mom on my left, my sister at my head feeding me ice chips, my husband on my right, coaching and encouraging. But more than feeling that pain, I remember feeling so adrift... almost airy, because I knew I was minutes away from meeting my little boy I and so many others had prayed SO hard for. I was literally minutes away from meeting a miracle.

Our miracle.

So I pushed, hard, and a lot. And it was the hardest thing ever, but before I knew it, he was out, crying, and all I could hear was that beautiful sound.

And all that mattered was him. Not the pain, not the fact that I had an epidural or not, not that pitocin was given, not all that pain, not that I thought I might die from the contractions... but just him.

And then the little miracle named Jack taught me more than anybody else ever has, and still teaches me everyday. Thank you, Jesus. This little baby is what answered prayers look like.

3 weeks till D-day!

I'm preparing myself for 5 more weeks of pregnancy, in case my uterus is a lazy property manager and doesn't feel like vacating the premises until I'm 42 weeks. I am mostly effaced and 1 cm dilated and that means absolutely nothing, but I put that in there for inquiring minds.

Baby Jack is now about 5 1/2 - 6 pounds and super long and getting very squished. Uteri are generally amazing and well designed, but mine can only hold so much before it will expel you, little man. I have warned you. I am starting to worry about having a ginormous baby, since I feel humongous. Dan, who tends to be the most objective of the two of us, has said he estimates the baby to be about 5 1/2 pounds right now, and not to worry. He's an engineer, and right about everything 99.89% of the time, so I am trying to relax and realize that yeah, my body probably does know what it's doing.

Up until 3 days ago I was feeling very unready and almost unhappy about the fact that soon I will be so tired I won't even want to move, let alone do anything fun. And that probably 3 months of my life at least will run together and I might not even remember most of it. And that was ALL I was focusing on... And then I got convicted. And read my journal. Nothing puts your life and feelings into perspective like reminding yourself how badly you wanted what you now have been blessed with. I also just woke up Saturday morning with this "I'm having a baby, let's do this thing!" feeling which I can neither believe nor explain... I have heard this comes soon before labor, but I'm not sure if it really does or if it's just another of those things that may happen, may not, etc etc.

We went over the birth plan with Doc this last week and he is so laid back I want to cry. I was ready for a fight and instead we ended up laughing and quoting Monty Python and the Holy Grail back and forth the entire appointment. I really only have 3 things I will go ape crazy on them if they try to violate. I do not want to be offered pain medication of any kind (because I will take it), they're not allowed to take Jack away from me (or Dan) anytime in the first hour after he's born (and/or before he has breastfed), and he will have absolutely no vaccines, bottles, or pacifiers for the duration of the hospital stay. Other than that, I'm pretty easy going... it's ape crazy or totally calm with me. Doc also said I could labor at home as long as I want (PRAISE JESUS), so my plan for staying home until I feel like I might die soon is a go even though I have way too many people freaking out that I might kill my child by not having him monitored from the minute I have the first contraction. That's a whole other blog post series right there. :)

We have everything we need for this little boy, and I can't wait for him to get here! I managed to make it all the way to 36 1/2 weeks before I got noticeably uncomfortable. If most women feel anything like I do this late in pregnancy, I'm pretty peeved almost every 9 month preggers gal I've ever known can only complain about how bad they feel. Uncomfortable, yes... amazing? Uh, YES. *Pregnancy rant over*

I am down and out a little more these days because my nesting drive is stronger than my drive to rest when my hips hurt, so I might be posting a little more these next few weeks until delivery. I specifically want to post a few of the nursery... SO cute. So, if you don't hear from me, you probably know where I am. That being either in the bathroom, or having a baby :)

8 Months?!

Yes, I am the worst blogger, quite possibly ever... I have a pretty valid excuse (trying to get stuff ready for baby!... no? Not a valid excuse?!), but I won't use it... I won't pull that card out...

Oh wait, I just did.

Well, it's true anyways. Nesting has hit the Wilkenson household in the last week and something (if not multiple somethings...) get's organized or redone or cleaned or polished or shined or dusted everyday... and then usually again the next day. Thank you, my furbabies, for making it nigh impossible to keep something clean for more than 12 hours.

All of my baby clothes are organized into sizes in bags. And the room is painted. That's about it. 8 weeks till due date and I am in panic mode to get everything we need, until I realize that 8 weeks is 2 months, then I am okay again.

As a side note, a little rant about baby bedding: WHY must all crib bedding be ridiculously hideous?? Who's idea was it to put fish and sharks on a bright blue and yellow quilt?? Gross. Not only that, but why must the only cute set be 250 buckaroos... for four pieces?? I really MUST learn how to sew.

I am officially 'plump.' A random 20 year old man at my church told me this, and then proceeded to ask me if I was going to be able to fit any more baby in there. Silly man, at least double the baby will be in my uterus come birthday time. It's hilarious what people say to pregnant women!

Loving. Every. Minute. I am 8 months and 3 days pregnant and I am pretty dang uncomfortable, things like bending over, putting pants on, getting out of bed, and wrestling with my 77 pound fur baby are hard to do, I randomly puke every once in a while, and I'm still am far from ready for this to be over... something about having this baby all to myself for these 8 months, knowing he's perfectly protected and safe and I can shelter him from anything I want is very comforting... it's also very selfish and unhealthy, so, I should probably get over that. But, I also feel a little bit like I have a present for everyone in this little human being waiting to be born, and that keeping him to myself would just be mean. So, this too must end.

On the other hand, I am totally ready to actually see this kid's face... I decided to skip the 3D ultrasound where you basically see exactly what they look like. What fun is it to see your kid's face for the first time on ultrasound?! Much more fun to be able to touch it and kiss it :)

The weight thing has been a bit of a struggle these last few months, but basically the opposite of what I thought would be happening. I thought I was going to blow up like a balloon when I got pregnant. But, between puking the first 16 weeks, food aversions until just recently and taking my dog for mandatory walks twice a day, I've struggled to GAIN weight. At almost 33 weeks I've gained a whopping 11 pounds, and while somebody right now is going to shoot me for being concerned about that, losing 3 pounds in a week in your third trimester is VERY CONCERNING when you don't have anything to lose. You're worried your baby is getting no nutrition at that point, which, as you can obviously assume, is no fun. I did well with the weight gain for 6 weeks, and then randomly started losing... there is no rhyme or reason, so at this point, as long as I'm feeling Jack move in a consistent pattern and I don't continue to lose that much weight, we just roll with it.

Stretch marks #1, 2, 3, and 4 have appeared and are having fun hanging out. Totally expected that way before now, so I am one happy camper I made it this far without them gracing me with their unwanted presence. :)

I am like a celebrity in Walmart whenever I go... I have to allow extra time because most old ladies like to play 20 questions with me. I however, am not complaining... I actually think it's sweet. I hear it only gets worse after the baby comes, too.

About Jack! He weighs about 4 1/2 pounds now (my pelvic floor will vouch for that), and is about 19 inches long. He is literally in constant motion... there's about an hour total throughout the day that I don't feel him doing his little rolls in there. He has quite the personality and likes to show his butt... if I poke him or move him out of a position that is uncomfortable for me, he pushes back harder. Oh yes, he doesn't move like normal in utero babies do... he stays put and gets more stubborn. He IS his mother's child.

He is also his father's child... I can feel him sucking my brain cells away. I cannot remember almost anything for more than 15 seconds anymore. He will be a genius.

I told Dan he would probably think I'm weird and creepy, but I feel like I already know Jack, and I'm pretty sure I feel what he feels... I can feel when he's sad, happy, worried.... right now your eyes are going bug-eyed and you really think I'm some weird emo person, but I don't really care, it's true :) They say babies feel what Mamma feels, I think the reverse is true too.

Also, he goes crazy whenever he hears his Daddy, and that is by far the cutest thing I have ever felt.

We just love this little boy and now we are single digits away from meeting him. :) 53 days away from due date. I can't believe he will be here so soon.

6 months, and the 6-pack is gone...

In case you were wondering, I am referring to a 6-pack of ABS, not beer. Just thought I'd clear that up. Although, the 6 packs of beer are definitely gone, too...

There are few things more fun to lose your flat abs to than skittles, homemade bread, Reese's ice cream...

Or a baby bump!

There's 24 weeks of baby Jack inside me right now, putting me at 6 months pregnant.

I seriously do not know how that happened. I feel like I have slept through the last two months of my life. And I most definitely have not. How can I keep myself from 'sleeping' through the last 3 months? I really need to know, because currently I have a crib, a few onesies, some socks, and a painting for the room...

And not a single diaper.

And not a single drop of paint on the walls.

And no carseat...

Since this baby is already trying to make an appearance, I better get this show on the road.

Here's some baby stats for the statisticians among us. Basically meaning any woman that has any interest in babies at all.

* Jack is about 9 inches long (crown to rump) and about 1.7 pounds.
* He is most active between 11 AM - 2 PM and 10:30 PM - 2 AM
* He has hair, and if you had a little in utero camera, you could tell what color it is.
* He can open his eyes now! No more fused eyelids.
* My uterus is the size of a soccer ball.
* I have gained! 3 POUNDS! Woot!!!

Baby Jack seems to want to grace the world with his presence early. I have contractions every night from 10  to 2 AM. Some are Braxton Hicks, some are full blown contractions. It happens no matter how much water I drink, how much rest/activity I had that day, if I'm laying on my left side, no matter what I eat... and well, it wouldn't be that big of a deal if they weren't engaging my cervix (aka, making me dilate). So, I'm off to make sure I don't have a UTI and to hopefully NOT be put on bedrest!

Monday was Happy Viability-Day to me and Jack! Thank goodness for modern medicine making us mommies-to-be feel way less nervous!

I am definitely experiencing the more uncomfortable side of pregnancy now, but I'm on such a high about the fact that I AM pregnant all the time I don't ever take any Tylenol. I start crying every time I imagine having the baby, so I can't imagine what it'll be like when I actually DO have the baby...

Basically, yep, still in love with being pregnant.

3 months to go, people... 3 months. Can't wait to see that little face.

~ Pure ~

There's no way to describe how purely awesome having this tiny life inside of me is, but if I were to try, it's...

Pure awe when I feel your tiny feet and little hands kicking and punching, and I wonder if you'll be awake this much when you get here.

Pure expectation when I poke you, and you kick exactly where I pushed.

Pure anticipation when I see the baby swing in the corner of my living room and I imagine what you'll look like all curled up in it.

Pure love when I look forward and imagine what I'll feel when I hold you for the first time.

Pure emotion every time I think about watching Daddy hold you for the first time.

Pure joy when I think about watching Daddy teach you how to throw a ball in the backyard.

Pure wonder when I ask how I could be so blessed whilst puking for the fourth time that day.

Pure reverence when I think of the miracle it took to get you inside of me and of the God who put you there.

Pure thankfulness when I remember that I have been blessed with you when I don't deserve any child, especially you.

Pure delight when I see you squirming on the ultrasound screen and wonder what you're thinking.

Pure gratefulness (and to be honest, pure terror) when I think of the responsibility we have been given to raise you for Him, and not for us.


Pure happiness when I feel you punching to the beat of the tune I'm humming, and know you already have rhythm from within the womb!

Pure awesome, ALL the time.


Oh, how I love this little baby.

The Big One

This post title could refer to many things...

The size of my ever growing belly...

The 'big' ultrasound that is scheduled for tomorrow...

Baby Jack, since he's now the size of a mango...

And, it's basically all of those and none of those. I just couldn't come up with a better blog title. I am waxing ineloquent in my pregnant state, which falls under the category of "pregnancy brain," of which I have about 17 episodes/day. I seriously love being pregnant, it keeps me on my toes!

I read somewhere that the babies 'home,' also known as my uterus, grows the most between weeks 18-20. I am currently 19 weeks, and I believe it. This belly has come out of nowhere... I woke up one morning and it was just as big as when I went to bed the night before. I participate in a silly game on my pregnancy forum... it is truly pure silliness but it's so fun and I haven't the slightest idea why. Each week, we measure our belly with toilet paper and see how many squares it takes to go all the way around. At 17 weeks it was 8 1/2 squares. At 18 weeks it was 10 squares, and at 19 weeks.... it was 12 squares. Let's not take that thought process any further or I will be the size of a football stadium by the time Jack decides to make his appearance!

Tomorrow is the big anatomy scan! I am secretly petrified that they will tell me I am ACTUALLY having a girl, even though that should be the least of my worries. They're going to be measuring every part of his little body to make sure it all looks healthy. Normally (if we hadn't cheated), we'd be finding out the sex tomorrow too, BUT, we are impatient people :) I can't wait to see if he has daddy's legs! Doc says between me feeling the baby as a first time mom at around 14 weeks, my brother AND my husband both breaking their waters with kicks (Hubby was a month early, brother was 2 weeks early!), baby probably has some pretty strong legs. And well, if you look at Daddy's legs, you'd wonder if there was a possibility of Jack not having strong legs.

Can I just say again how awesome it is to be pregnant? I mean, I'm running out of ways to describe the awesome-itude. I puked everyday for 3 months and I still think it was fun. Now that I can feel baby super well, I sit back in my papasan chair everyday and just feel him, and then when I feel him I can't help but pray for him. It's my favorite part of the day. I am starting to be able to feel him when I'm up and around too! It's so surreal to know that one time, this not-so-little-anymore baby was the size of a poppy seed. I can't believe I look at his ultrasound pictures everyday and I remember what a miracle baby he is. I know God has something special in mind for him.

Also, can I just say how incredible it is to love someone you've never even seen as much as I love this baby?

Goal #1: Never forget how God worked a miracle. Goal #2: Enjoy EVERY second of this pregnancy, and then his life.

Oh boy. I need prayers. :)

4 1/2 Months Pregnant???

I'm not entirely sure how this happened, but yes, on Monday I will be 18 weeks pregnant. I think yesterday I was 12 weeks.

And right about now is when I start getting a little panicky that the only baby things we have in this house are a crib, a bouncy seat, some shoes, and a few onesies. Did I mention my house is a mess and every corner needs organized???

Ahem. So, about the delay between blog posts these days... sorry about that. Between either puking, chasing after a 50 pound 4 month old puppy or having a busy schedule, blogging has been pushed back to the "I really should do that soon, but the 14 other things on my list come first" category. Let's just say time management has been a skill I'm pretty sure God is trying to teach me these last few weeks.

So, on to the good stuff! SO. So. Sooooooo much has happened since I last wrote. I will do my best to do at least bi-weekly updates from here on out. But for now, we will play catch up.

I think around 11 weeks I started to feel the flutters of baby Dashlee. Pretty much everyone tells me that's impossible, especially for a first time mom, but, I mean really, if I can feel ovulation, pretty sure I can feel something the size of a peach moving around inside me. I am basically enthralled with baby. I take my prenatal and other vitamins with orange juice at night, right before bed, so whenever I lay down I can feel baby going CRAZY. Daddy still can't feel it from the outside yet, which to be honest is a little weird to me, since it's so clearly the baby moving to me.

FINALLY, after 3 months straight of Zofran everyday and still feeling nauseous with major food aversions, at 16 weeks baby Dashlee let me stop puking. I have never appreciated what it is to enjoy food and not feel like utter poop as I do now. Oh, also, thanks for the boost of energy, kid! I have enough to do my daily duties AND still do a little bit extra. This is huge progress.

At the end of 16 weeks, we scheduled a 3d/4d ultrasound to see little baby Dashlee's gender! Let me tell you, I am convinced at this point I'm having a girl. All my dreams are about girls, I have all the girl symptoms I've heard, I just 'feel' like it's a girl... NOPE! Baby Dashlee is a BOY! During the ultrasound I was literally staring at boy parts and I was still expecting her to type 'girl' on the screen. That's how delusionally convinced I was. Dan got a video of my reaction and it's pretty hilarious, I've never seen myself look so shocked. But, no matter how much I thought it was a girl, I am PSYCHED for my little boy! I always wanted a boy first, because I ALWAYS wanted an older brother growing up. I've got more practice with boys. I always wanted a little cuddly Mama's boy... and he'll be here in September! And yep, we have a name... Jack David Wilkenson.

He will be a MAN-CHILD!!! ;-)

Some days I still don't feel pregnant. I know I am, I can feel my uterus being the size of a cantelope these days, I feel Jack moving all around in there, I feel hungry all. the. time. But, it also feels too good to be true most of the time. I am SO blessed already, and now I have this cute little baby bundle on the way... who is, by the way, a miracle of epic proportions. I feel like it's impossible to thank God enough for answering all our prayers. Sometimes, I get all apathetic and just quit saying thank you (hey, just being honest and open here) because I know I can't say it enough times. And then I get convicted (Thank you Jesus for the Holy Spirit), and start all over again.

I also told Dan I think I want to be pregnant for the rest of my life (with different babies. Don't freak out.). I quite enjoy this feeling and I'm 100% positive I want more kids. Could something be more amazing than a little tiny poppy seed sized cell growing into a big sweet potato sized baby (Jack's that big already??) right inside of me???

I think that's enough for one blog post! Oh wait, maybe some pictures ;)

 Sweet Baby Jack! Cute already!

 17 Weeks of cute baby bump!

And last but not least, my prep for Jack. Boy is he a pain, but he sure is cute!

P.S. I know you all are still praying, and THANK YOU. Dan and I have been overwhelmed by your generosity already in just praying, and now we're being showered with gifts and free things and hugs. It's all amazing. Having people be excited with you is 5,000 times more fun than going it alone. :)

Fetal Anatomy 101

For lack of a better way to do a post on fetal anatomy, I am breaking down this series by trimesters. This post will be on weeks 1-13! I will have the other two trimesters on my blog at a later date, chroniclesofthedashlees@blogspot.com!

Since I can't see a reason to add another extremely long paragraph to this blog post, I'm skipping the description of what goes on in the first two weeks of the embryo's life because, well.... there is no embryo. There are two weeks in the life of an egg that occur before fertilization that are quite important and vital to the health of the embryo, but this blog post will already be incredibly long and heaven forbid I lose your attention. SO. Let's begin.

Fertilization: Sperm meets egg, they make baby. This occurs in the mother's Fallopian tube (usually). As soon as one sperm penetrates the inner layer of the egg, no other sperm will be able to get past the egg's outer shell. The fertilized egg (now called an Oocyte) will travel down the fallopian tube into the uterus, where it will shed it's outer protective shell and implant itself into the endometrial lining, thusly, beginning week 4 of it's development.

An embryo at week 4, about the time a woman finds out she is pregnant. Clearly seen, are the heart, rudimentary circulatory system, and brain.

An embryo at week 7. Eyes, nose, mouth and ears are evident, along with limbs and elbows.

Weeks 4-8 are the most vital to the embryos health, development, and overall growth. By this time, the first cells that started dividing 2 weeks ago are now organized into a reptilian-resembling shape, forming a functional circulatory system and a working brain, neural tube, and nerves. Some say this is the point where the embyro begins to feel nudges and vibrations, though he won't respond to them until later, when the muscles and the bones are more stable and intact to allow movement. At week 5, the heart will beat steadily. The four chambers of the heart are developed and fully functional, and there's even an elementary form of blood flowing through the veins and arteries. Arm and leg buds appear as little stumps in the middle of the fetal pole. The lungs, kidneys, and brain develop at a rapid rate. At week 6, the eyes start to develop rapidly. The lenses are formed, and though they are not functional yet, all the groundwork is laid out for the little one to start sensing light changes at around 15 weeks. The embryo begins to look less reptilian and more human every day, as even a little nose bud begins to form, nostrils and all. The main focus of growth this week: the pancreas and intestines. By week 7, elbows, fingers, and toes are in the works. An ultrasound at this point would show movement of the arms and legs, and, if he's active, he may even move his little butt around. The muscles and ligaments are getting stronger by the minute, and allow for more precise and controlled movements. Inside the umbilical cord, intestines are forming. Yes, I said inside the umbilical cord. There's really no room in that skinny little belly for them right now, with the heart taking up 1/4 the room available. Teeth begin to form under the gums in the mouth. As week 8 approaches, the head to torso ratio begins to even out, and on an ultrasound you would see a little baby, not a weird-looking-alien-parasite-thing. In the blueprints this week; eyes, cartilage, bone, tongue, and general size. This week is a huge growth spurt for baby. Generally, any life-threatening chromosomal abnormalities will have caused a miscarriage by this point. Baby will go from the size of a blueberry at week 7, to the size of a raspberry by week 8. And well, that's a lot of growing when you're less than an inch long.

A fetus at 9 weeks old. Looking like a baby!

Weeks 9 and 10 are momentous for baby in more ways than one. First, the little tyke has graduated... from an embryo to a fetus! As far as organs and tissues, everything is present and accounted for, though yet some remain unfunctional for another few weeks. Reflexes are fully developed, and most researchers will agree that at this point the baby will feel everything that happens to it - nudges, shifts, and vibrations. The baby will curl it's hand around anything it finds, and may start thumb sucking. Fingerprints are already starting to form! By week ten, Mom can start to relax, because the most crucial period of development for the fetus is over. Now, the head and the body have equal proportions, as that brain needs plenty of space to grow. Eye color is determined at this point, and the eyelids are fused shut to allow for development of the irises. The placenta now takes over most of the nutritional and oxygen needs of the baby as the yolk sac that has been feeding the baby until now gets used up. At 9 weeks, the baby is .9 inches long... by 10 weeks he will be a full 1 1/2 inches long! Growing like a weed.

Baby at 12 weeks, surrounded by placenta and fluid.

By week 11, almost all of the organs are formed and beginning to function. The kidneys begin to work hard and amniotic fluid starts to build up. Baby girl or baby boy? Time will soon tell as the genitals begin to take on proper form and function. Hair and nails are starting to grow at this point. Intestinal walls will begin to contract and practice for digestion, and fingers and toes are perfect! Starting at week 12, the liver and the pancreas start to perform their bodily functions of cleansing the blood and regulating blood sugar. Baby now has vocal cords! Ears are moving to their rightful place on the side of the head and the eyes start to move closer together. Baby is now 2 to 2 1/2 inches long, crown to cute little rump, of course.

Thus, the end of the 12th week means the end of the first trimester! First trimester takes the cake for growth and development. Now, for the rest of the pregnancy, baby will focus on fine tuning and gaining weight. And, hopefully, mom starts to focus on other things than the toilet and her pillow. 

Hugest Update Ever. The Mothership Has Landed.

It's been a good two months since I posted, and here's why.

I had been fervently praying that IF it was in God's Will, I would be able to announce a pregnancy at Christmas-time. December 14th I definitely learned that was not going to happen. If I said I wasn't crushed I would be epically lying through my teeth. If I said I didn't want to have a huge crisis of faith, I would be epically lying through my teeth. And if I said I didn't actually have a minor crisis of faith, I would be EPICally lying through my teeth.

But, it brought me to the end of myself. And the end of my doctor's selves. And the end of any manmade hope. We had decided we weren't going to go any further than the treatment we were already doing, so when for the 6th time Clomid didn't work, and the 2nd time Comid and hCG shot didn't work, I was ready to move on to the next treatment because OBVIOUSLY this wasn't working.

However... I was still willing to try the same thing again rather than do nothing. In my horrible state of emotionality trumps all, I was letting my fears get to me. "I don't ovulate at all on my own. I'm going to be in limbo for years until I ovulate next if we don't do something. I don't want to wait years..." So I called Dan and told him that I wasn't pregnant and that I was going to call Doc and see if we could do another round.

BUT, God didn't want me to do another round. I didn't have peace as I was calling Doc, but I called him anyway. We had planned a trip to Colorado for the holidays, and our flight left the 20th of December. We wouldn't get back until the 31st of December. I told this info to Doc and asked if it was going to be possible to start another round before we left. He said no, because he didn't want me going in for ultrasounds in Colorado over the holidays to measure my follicles. So, we decided we'd wait until I got back and start then, and he said to call him the morning after I got back to Florida.

Fair enough, I thought. However, I continued to have a lack of peace in my heart. I finally told Dan two days before we left for Colorado and after a weeks worth of struggling with myself, and with God, that I didn't feel peace about continuing treatment. I really WANTED to feel peace about continuing treatment. But I didn't, and I couldn't ignore it. Not to mention every message at church was about trusting God alone, letting go of fears, stepping out in faith. It was pretty obvious I was being rather forcefully warned that I needed to let go. And so, I purposed that I would. Sometimes you just have to decide you're going to do what you need to. This was one of those moments. It went against everything I was feeling at the moment, except for that nagging lack of peace.... but that nagging lack of peace is what I decided to follow.

I went to Colorado and as I was packing, I purposely left all "trying to conceive" stuff at home. My thermometer, my ovulation predictor strips, my pregnancy tests. I made myself ignore the apps on my phone, and the groups on facebook I was a part of. I just enjoyed my Christmas NOT thinking about getting pregnant, to be honest. Almost as soon as I started, I wanted to continue forcing myself to not think about it. It was the hugest relief, and just in time for the Christmas season (which, by the way, is my favorite holiday EVER). I was having a total blast in Colorado, and my mind was free to focus on other things for the first time in 18 months.

Christmas Day, we headed up to my parent's place from Dan's mom's house in Colorado Springs. We celebrated Christmas with the whole family and not even once did I struggle with sadness that I didn't have a kid, either with me or in my belly, that being the first time I could say that since my miscarriage in June '10. I was ecstatic.

On the 29th I took pictures of my friend's baby, Caden. He was so darn cute I could barely stand myself, and for the first time in 18 months I could honestly be okay that someone else had a baby and I didn't. And then, later that day at lunch with my Mother-In-Law as she headed up to Nebraska, I noticed I started feeling like I had ovulated. I quickly passed it off as just weird wacky hormones, being that I was off the Clomid now and my body was adjusting. But, the next day, it was like ALL of my ovulation symptoms hit me with vengeance. I tried to still deny it, thinking "There's no way I've ovulated on my own, let alone on day 14. Get over it." But after we got home and I still felt all of the symptoms, I started to wonder if I had.

I noticed most of my symptoms were exaggerated. For example, I normally get a little more agitated when I get PMS, but this was a bit more than usual. I was pretty emo. I couldn't read people's statuses on Facebook without getting upset. I thought "This hasn't happened to me since I was 16 with raging hormones." I knew I ovulated stronger on my own than I ever had with Clomid, so I passed it off as simply having more progesterone in my system than I had when ovulating on the Clomid. I asked myself "Why would God have me to ovulate on my own for the first time in.... SO long, and not work some magic with that little eggy?" Then "Well, God works in mysterious ways. He's probably planning on teaching you something through it. Trust, trust, trust." I said that to myself at least 17 times a day.

I started to calculate the date I knew I should start, and going by my past cycles where I'd ovulated on my own I knew I should start on January 10th. So, closer and closer to that day I started wondering. My body was doing some straaaaaannnngggeeee things. Again, I said "No way, Ashlee. It's just all the extra progesterone." And I truly believed the little voice in my head that said it. Until I was late.

Never once in my entire life have I had a luteal phase (phase from ovulation to period) longer than 14 days unless I had taken the hCG shot, in which case it was 16 days. I said to myself on the 11th, "Well, your body probably just got used to the 16 day luteal phase. You'll start tomorrow." Tomorrow came but the period didn't. Then, I said, "Well, if I don't start by tomorrow I'll take a test. There's no way. But, I'll take a test. Just in case something weird is happening and I need to stop drinking caffeine."

Let me tell you, I had never had so much caffeine in my life as I had in the last month. I got a Starbucks Caramel Macchiato nearly everyday. I got a sweet tea with my lunch from Chick-fil-a nearly everyday. I did everything a trying-to-have-a-baby person should not do. I ran two miles three times a week. I cleaned 2 houses a day with toxic chemicals. I ate a bunch of crap with almost no nutritional value. I stretched in weird ways and was in awkward positions cleaning baseboards most of the day. And, it was FUN.

That night I got super crampy and just 'knew' the end to this horrendous cycle was coming the next day. So, I got up the next day and did not take a test like I said I would. To be honest, it was mostly because I forgot, since I was running late for work that day. Lindsey, my boss, picked me up and we headed to the first house. It took all of about four seconds for her to notice I wasn't my normal self. I was quite hyped up, everytime I checked facebook I would burst out into some loud, obnoxious rant about how just utterly ridiculous someone's post was. And then, I posted my own status. It said something to the effect of "If you're pregnant, stop whining about it. After all, there is a little miracle in your belly." Pretty sure it was less direct than that, but you get the point.

Well, being that it was Friday night, I was exhausted. Wiped out. So, I went to bed early. I fell asleep watching a show with the hubby. I woke up the next morning and realized my dear friend who had so faithfully visited me for the last 17 months was not here... and had a minor freak out in my bed. It was like 7:30 on a Saturday morning and I was wide awake wondering why I was here at 18 days post ovulation with no Aunt Flow. I was actually upset. I said, "Now, WHY would my body do this to me. This is just cruel. But, I better take a test, so I don't go get that Starbucks I desperately want right now if it so happens to be positive. Ha. Ha." I actually laughed at myself, and even as I was unwrapping the test I was asking myself why, just why, was I planning on wasting the $6 this test cost me.

So, I peed. And I looked at my phone. And it was 7:37 AM, January 14th. And the test said to wait 5 minutes before reading. So, I played scrambling with friends games until 7:42 AM on January 14th. Then, I said a quick little prayer telling God that no matter what that dang test said I still loved Him and I would accept with gladness whatever the result was. And after a quick little glance I pretty much lost it.

There were two lines. I never thought I could spontaneously combust and live through it, but that's a little what it felt like. My heart was beating out of my chest, I was crying and snotting all over myself, grabbing my towel and wiping the tears away so I could see the test again, crying some more when I realized I was holding a stick with two lines on it. My legs were numb probably because I had been sitting on the toilet for like 20 minutes at this point. I was a hot mess. But I was a very, very, very grateful hot mess. I sat there praying and crying for a few more minutes. Then I went and told Dan.

See, I always wanted to do it cute. But, the thing is, when you can barely feel your legs, you've been expelling all sorts of fluids out of your body for the last 20 minutes and you're shaking, you can't really hide it. And I couldn't really stay in the bathroom much longer without Dan starting to wonder if the toilet ate me. So I walked out in literal emotional shock and just said "Daaaaaannnn....." and showed him the test. That's literally all I could muster.

He promptly jumped out of bed and said "Are you pregnant??" I just nodded my head and he grabbed my hands and started jumping up and down. Those of you who know Dan.... this is the hugest reaction ever. Then, he stopped and looked at me and said "You're pregnant!!!"

Haha, I didn't believe him. I didn't believe the test either, frankly! Just too much to take in all at once when something you've wanted so badly for so long has finally happened by a MIRACLE.

Well, we pretty much told all close friends and family by that night. I wanted prayer. With my history and now knowing my mutation that causes miscarriages, I was a bit mortally petrified. Especially the next morning when I started spotting. And when I say spotting I mean you probably wouldn't have noticed it unless you were mortally petrified. So, I called Doc.

He says "You got pregnant? By yourself?" I said "well, I had a little help from my Friend Upstairs. But yes, I'm pregnant." He was stunned. Like, really people, this was not supposed to be medically possible. So, after a long story of what was going on, he calls in some bloodwork and says if that looks good we'll do an ultrasound.

Long story short: My levels on Monday morning were 338. Very nice. My levels Wednesday morning were 618.5. Also, very nice. They scheduled an ultrasound for the 26th of January, since I should be 6 weeks at that point. It was the most nervwracking thing I've ever done, that first ultrasound is crucial for people like me with concerning history. Is it in the right place? Are all the elements of a healthy pregnancy there? Will it be the right dates? Will there be more than one? Will there be a heartbeat?

This is what we saw in the first ultrasound. Doesn't look like much, does it? What you're looking at is the yolk sac, the sac that holds all the nutrients for the baby to eat until it can form the placenta and get nutrition from me. On the left side of the circle it's a little more pronounced, and if you weren't there for the ultrasound you probably won't be able to tell, but that's the 'fetal pole.' Basically, the beginings of baby Dashlee. Directly above the white circle in a black circle, you see a darker slash that runs horizontally to the baby. That's a pocket of blood. He said that's probably why I was spotting. He dated this ultrasound at 4.5 - 5 weeks which needless to say made me nervous, since I was supposed to be at least 6 weeks by my dates. I promptly google diagnosed myself and found that it wasn't really a concern.




Well, one ultrasound down. They scheduled me to come back and hear the heartbeat in two weeks. So, February 9th rolls around, and I'm fine and I'm SICK. I have never been so happy to be bowing to the porcelain gods three times a day in my life. It hit me promptly at 7 weeks and hasn't stopped since, so thank the Good Lord for zophran, or I would be one miserable sick lady who would be in the hospital since all she can do at home is puke up water. I feel normal and awesome on the Zophran, and the only thing I really struggle with is the food aversions (is it possible to be aversed to everything except Chipotle and Buffalo Wild Wings?).

Anyway, back to the next ultrasound. I totally did not understand the difference two weeks makes at this stage in pregnancy until I saw this ultrasound pic. Baby Dashlee looks like a reptile and is way bigger than the little yolk sac, which you see in the left of the picture. The baby is the c-shaped thing right there next to it.  in the curve of the backwards 'C' there are two white dots, that's the heart. So, Doc says absolutely nothing at this ultrasound. Until he plays the heartbeat. Stunned would be a good word to describe Dan and I's reaction. Dan was so excited he actually got up out of his chair. I was shocked and expecting something to be wrong since he had been so silent. And, it was beautiful. It's majorly surreal to realize there's something inside of you with a different heartbeat than yours. And this is the one part of my blog where I really wish I was a better writer so that you could understand how amazing it was to hear that swoosh-swoosh. And um, did I mention it was LOUD? The kid's got a strong ticker.

There's the big update of my life. This kid's a true miracle. And I am so grateful. I guess God wanted all the credit for FBD and boy did He ever get it. I would attempt to thank all of you for praying, but that would just be useless on a blog post. The kind of prayer that produces this result is something to be thanked personally. Even though I want to barf at the thought of rottiserie chicken and I puke every now and then even on anti-nausea meds, I've had 2 ultrasounds, 2 blood draws, and have missed my period two months in a row, it's still hard to believe sometimes. I feel SO blessed. I also don't deserve this, but the Lord is merciful and gracious and has seen fit to grow me through this. And, did I mention I'm grateful?

As of now, being 9 - 9.5 weeks, I have another ultrasound scheduled for the 21st at 8:30. This is the mother of all ultrasounds. The Big Kicker. The Motherload. If baby is still doing well, I get released to an OB/GYN to figure out if I'm high risk or not. And, well, that's pretty huge when you've never made it past 5 weeks before.

Also, did I mention the baby will actually look like a baby then?

Love, Ash, Dan, and, yes..... BD. Baby Dashlee. Who is no longer future.