Introducing: Owen James William Gilman

This is Owen. I can say with much certainty that he has already won my heart. When he was only a day or so old, I coined him "Lil Red", and it seems fitting to me. He's the spitting image of his daddy, and when you put the two of them together, there's no denying that he's a mini Daniel. 

There have been a few people asking how he came to be (as in...his birth story) and how we're doing now. So---to update family and friends, here I go:

On March 13, 2013, at about 830 pm, my water broke. Hard to explain this as anything except for totally disgusting. And it stayed disgusting for a long time after that. LOL. I told Daniel I needed a shower before I went ANYWHERE, because I had no idea how long it would be before I was going to get another one. We headed into the hospital after that, where they did the test to confirm that my water had broken. It was positive, and once that was done, they brought the doctor in. In my life, I couldn't have possibly asked for a better OB to deliver Owen. She was amazing. They moved me from OB Triage to L&D, and hooked up my IV right away. After that, they started me on IV fluids and a pitocin drip. We all rested, watching TV and getting as much sleep as we could as the pitocin increased and the contractions got stronger and stronger. The doctor came in about 1am and checked me again to find that my cervix wasn't changing at ALL and I was REALLY uncomfortable. We couldn't figure out what the deal was. Checking on little Owen a little closer, we realized he was pretty far up, and apparently not interested in coming anytime soon. We all decided that that was okay with us, but we opted for the epidural so that I could at least get some rest. The anesthesiologist came in to do the epidural, and before I knew it, I was laying in bed resting. Feeling the contractions, but not feeling any pain...it was wonderful. They attached a fetal heart monitor to baby internally so that we could monitor him, since he didn't want to stay on, and a monitor that would tell us exactly what the contractions were doing to my cervix each time they came. We all continued to rest, until about 20 minutes or so to 3am. The doctor came in again and told me they were going to check me again, and see if we were making any progress. At this check, I was a good 6, but still not progressing as quickly as I should have been. It was frustrating. She left for a quick minute and then came back, a little concerned. She told me that baby's heart rate was decelerating with each contraction, which is the opposite of what it's supposed to do. She checked me one more time, and told me he felt pretty low for 6. She told me she'd be back, and we'd decide where to go from there. At 5 minutes to 3am, I woke up Daniel and told him I needed him. The doctors were worried about our little man, that maybe the cord was wrapped somewhere...one way or the other, he was in distress, and that wasn't okay. The doctor came back in and told us her plan of attack. We trusted her fully, and were willing to do what she thought was best. And so, at just 6 cm dilated, I was instructed to bear down, and see if little Owen would come down with my push. If he did, we were going to push him out. 6 cm or not. And we were going to do it fast. If he didn't, then we were going to the OR for a C-Section. Either way, we were getting this baby out, NOW. The few minutes after that are kind of a blur to me, and the entire 24 hours after that are pretty fuzzy. What I remember goes like this: They put me on oxygen because my levels were low, I had the shakes that I nearly couldn't control, and I was terrified and tired. The anesthesiologist came back in, gave me another dose of the epi medicine, and I wasn't feeling as much pain anymore. The doctor instructed me to push, and I did...and then baby got stuck. His heart rate continued to decelerate, and as hard as I pushed, I couldn't get him out. Crying, I told her I just couldn't do it, I didn't have it in me. She looked at me, with a look I will NEVER forget and told me "You have to. We have to get him out, NOW." I remember something clicking in my head, and I thought of Isabella. All I could think was that I had come this far, I had waited this long, and I was going to lose him. And that was going to happen because I wasn't strong enough. Because I did something wrong. And that wasn't going to happen. So, I took one more deep breath and one more push. With a LOT of help from the doc, we got little Owen out, and she put him on my chest. Seeing him, she laughed and said "This little monster was playing with us." It turns out, his cord was no where near his neck, and far as we could tell, he was in no immediate danger. He was crying, he was alert, he was pink...he was everything a baby should be. And...he was in a hurry. They took him away from me, and to the table to clean him up, and measure him, and make him cry some more. 

I could see the conflict in Daniel's eyes as I looked at him, he wasn't sure whether to go to his newborn son, or to stay with me, who wasn't doing very well. The only words I remember saying to him were "Go see your baby." And I meant that. You only have your first born child one time, and I didn't want him to miss a single second of that. After we got the baby out, the doctor focused her attention on me. I delivered the placenta, and immediately started feeling a little better. Until....we couldn't get the bleeding to stop. After soaking through 10 rags in delivery, the doctor told me that I had cervical tearing, and would need to go to the OR.  This meant more anesthesia, and who knows how long before I would get to hold my new baby boy. Farther than that, I have little recollection. I know they took me to OR, I know they gave me a generous amount of anesthesia, and I know that I can't tell you more than 5 things about my son on the very first day of his life. Thank god his daddy was so amazing and was there to take care of him. This is a picture of me the first time I held my son, and I don't even remember it. 

The recovering process has been slow. I've been up and about, but I lost a lot of blood, and there is certainly a lot of pain that comes with the type of surgery I had to have. Owen is doing beautifully now though, and continues to be the biggest blessing. I will never forget the feeling of thinking I was going to lose him, and I don't take it for granted at all that he's here and that he's ok. Every day he grows and changes, and makes me love him even more. I'm a lucky mommy and I know that. I know that Bella was with us in that delivery room, in the operating room with me, and everyday as her baby brother grows and develops. We have a real life angel, and we couldn't be more blessed for that. 

 

 

38 Weeks

So...here we are. 38 weeks and counting. He's still not here yet, and I'm beginning to believe he has no intention of coming out anytime soon. This is aggravating to both me, and his daddy, who is anxiously awaiting his arrival. It's interesting really. I'm not having the usual "I just want this baby out of me, I don't care how it happens." emotions that usually come at the end of the pregnancy. In fact, I'm perfectly content with him doing whatever it is he needs to do. However, my body is tired of pregnancy. It's been a super hard one, and to be honest, has had me seriously debating about whether or not D and I should be done having kids after this one. Part of me kept holding out hope, believing that someday we'd have another baby girl. To be honest though, there's a part of me that believes that Bella was to be my only little girl. She is special in a million little ways, and maybe this is just another one. There was a reason that she wasn't meant to be, and yet...there's a reason that she WAS. I'm beginning to believe that I just have to embrace that. And...I'm starting to be okay with it. I have 2 AMAZING little boys, who literally amaze me, impress me, and make me proud of them every single day. All I can really do is guide them, watch them grow, and hope I am turning them into the kind of men that will someday make amazing fathers and husbands. In my tummy, there is a little rockstar. He kicks, he flips, he punches, he's a beast. And he's going to make his appearance any day now. And he's our rainbow baby. The baby we never thought we'd have. The baby that D has been waiting his entire adult life for. That's huge. So maybe, just maybe...all of that is plenty. My body is tired. It's tired of pregnancy, it's tired of childbirth. It's tired of pain. Maybe it's about time we make the decision that these 3 kids are not perfect, but they are perfect for us...and that our little family is perfect. I dunno. I'm so torn about it...so up in the air. It's a difficult and rather permanent decision to make. I'm so afraid to make the wrong one, and then later be aggravated that I no longer have the option of making a different decision. Ahh, it's confusing. But...i digress. 

At this stage in our pregnancy, little Owen is quite a monster. He's weighing in at 7 lbs 4 oz, which is about 4 weeks bigger than an "average" baby at this stage. The doctors believe he's also going to be pretty long, i can't wait to see. We are, last i heard, 4 cm dilated, totally effaced, and baby is head down and engaged. We're not entirely sure what he's waiting on, but he's ready whenever he's ready, I guess. I'm definitely nervous for the labor and birth process. I remember having a very high pain tolerance for both of the boys, but with this one...i'm not so sure. I've been in pain for so many weeks, i think i might trade virtually pain free for au natural. To be honest, I have my "non medicated, in labor for 16 hours, and stitched up from my tear" badge. I'm not sure i want another one. LOL. We haven't really 100% established a birth plan. We both know what I want, for the most part, but we aren't really wanting anything set in stone. Things could change. 

Well, just a little update, and a little of my random thoughts. Off to make lunch, since the 3 year olds don't feed themselves. (Why not, i wonder? :D) Until next time.