Vivian

Vivian Alice Sedwick

Born 7/17/15 at 7:15 AM

6 lbs 5 oz 19 inches

             Most of the time I only blog if there is something I really want to write or I have story that is just sort of bubbling in me.  I really want to want to write about Vivian's birth.  I love reading about babies being born, but Vivian's birth felt so much less dramatic than my other two that I guess I have been just slowly adding a sentence here or there.  Yesterday I read a friends birth story and it has really made me want to finish recording it, because there are special little moments with each one.  Thanks Annie for reminding me that I really do want to write this all out. 

               Here we were in July again.  I was pregnant again.  In some ways it is great to be due in the same month because I can easily compare each pregnancy, but in other ways is not great to be due at the same time because I can easily compare each pregnancy - if that makes sense. I was due on the 19th with Vivian (Elliott- 17th).  With both pregnancies I was super busy with nesting and getting the house ready for a new baby and planning a birthday party for Charlotte, plus this time I also had a birthday party for Elliott coming up.  My mantra with both was, "anytime after the party is fine."  I think there was part of me that thought everything would be EXACTLY the same.  By that estimation she should have come on the 12th. We did Charlotte's birthday party on the 11th and I went to bed that night feeling like anytime would be great now.  The morning of the 12th I woke up feeling good, as in too good, as in my body isn't feeling any of that achiness, tiredness, or cramping of a body ready to go into labor.  I went to church and didn't feel like anything was happening until the last hour.  I started to feel some vague regular contractions.  I got excited, started timing them and told a bunch of people after church that I thought I was almost there.  WHY?  Why would I tell people that early?  That is just begging the contractions to stop. As the evening progressed I realized nothing regular was happening, but I had plans for this uterus of mine. I was going to really stir things up by running the next morning. I got up and went for a run on Monday morning and then went to my Dr. appt.  It didn't work. Not even one dang contraction for all three miles.  So Tuesday I decided to push beyond what I had done in pregnancy...5 miles surely would get things going.  No dice! (I know you are rolling your eyes at me right now. I realize I am annoying by posting about my running, but I actually am kind of proud of my body for being able to haul around that baby for a run. And let's be honest those five miles I wound up looking and sounding like that rhinoceros that brings up the tail of the stampede in Jumanji). 

             Wednesday my mom and brother were settling in at our house and we were just having an easy going day catching up, because my brother had just got home from his two year mission in Minnesota and was becoming best buddies with Elliott.   Wednesday night when we were bathing and putting my kids to bed I started having some strong contractions, but by the time the kids were asleep and I sat down they stopped.  My mom said, "listening to you getting the kids ready for bed made me have contractions and I don't even have a uterus" and I think that should tell you something about our bedtime routine (why do they stall so much??)  By Thursday I decided we should go have fun and we went to this beautiful nearby Lavendar Farm and out to lunch with my mom, brother and Richard's family.  I headed to bed at 10 feeling super sleepy, but I was already plotting what we would do to keep ourselves entertained the next day. 

              I fell right to sleep, but woke up at 12:45 AM with contractions.  They felt real and I was feeling so excited that I knew I wasn't going back to sleep so I figured I might as well go watch TV since I wasn't sleeping. I got down stairs and had one of those If You Give a Mouse a Cookie kind of moments.  I decided to get some food and needed a bowl.  Getting a bowl made me realize the dishwasher needed to be unloaded and unloading the dishwasher made me realize I needed to wipe down the counters and wiping down the counters made me realize I needed to scrub the sink and when getting the cleaning supplies out I realized I needed to sweep the kitchen and sweeping the kitchen made me realize I needed to sweep the dining room.  I wound up cleaning the whole kitchen and totally forgot to turn on the tv. The contractions were getting a little stronger, but were obviously tolerable. While cleaning I texted my sister in Utah, because I was hoping with the time difference she would be awake.  I had the funniest text conversation with my sister and brother-in-law.  I was cracking up and I love it because I felt like they were there with me and it was kind of like last summer all over again.  She advised me to try to go back to sleep.  At 2:45 AM I laid down and after two contractions I realized I HATE trying to sleep or even just lying down during contractions. At one point between contractions I felt Vivian kick and I had a little conversation with my big belly.  I told her that we were in this together and it would probably be a rough night for both of us, but soon enough we would be snuggling and I would take care of her and that I couldn't wait to see her.  By 3 AM I decided a shower would help ease the pain and it was really nice.  At 330 I got out of the shower and decided it was time to wake up Richard and call my doctor.  We headed to the hospital at 4:15 AM and it was sort of strange going out in the middle of the night to have a baby.  This was different than my other babies; and everything was just so different.  They quickly checked us in and took me up to L&D.  I was 7 cm dilated and the contractions were coming strong but only every 4 minutes.  I knew she wasn't coming as fast as Elliott. Then there was this big looming question...to epidural or not to epidural?  With Charlotte I didn't want an epidural and wound up asking for one.  With Elliott I wanted an epidural and didn't get one.  I came this time with no plan (because...why bother) and I was at a point in labor where I really could go either way. What to do?  Ask me during a contraction...get the anesthesiologist now! But then between contractions or when I heard a baby start crying in the room next door, I didn't want anything to slow this process down.  I just wanted her here and I couldn't wait to hear my baby cry too. 

        After the nurse got a majority of the paperwork done she said it was time for me to be monitored.  My contractions were definitely slower than they had been when I was coming in.  Now I was only having them every 5-7 minutes.  I tried standing up again to keep from slowing things down and wondered if maybe I was starting to feel more pressure and getting closer to being ready to push.  At about 5:45 I had her check me again and she said I was still probably around 7cm dilated.  That's when I decided to go for the epidural.  They got me set and it sure was a fabulous, immediate relief.  It was complete relaxation compared to a few seconds previously. I could still feel the contractions, but they didn't hurt anymore.  There was the crazy, irrational part of me that felt a little like I had abandoned Vivian.  I told her we were in this together.  I knew she would have a massive headache and I would have a massive...ahem...nether region-ache, but we were doing it together.  Richard informed me that I am nuts and I moved on pretty quick.  The epidural really was just too lovely to feel bad about it. At 6:30 AM my Doctor came and broke my water.  I was completely dilated and almost ready to push.  She went to change her clothes and I started to feel the urge to push (not painful, but I could feel my body just feeling like that is what it was supposed to do).  The doctor came back and I pushed three times. They said her head was out and I was kind of shocked that it was happening so fast. It was one instant of feeling surprised that she was almost here to the next instant I saw her and I felt a super intense wave of  love for this little lady wash over me.  It was crazy how automatic that feeling came and it was like a switch flipped immediately and the tears started. I could not take my eyes off of her and everybody else seemed to fade away.  It felt like we were the only ones in the room and  I loved getting to hold our sweet new girl.

 

 Elliott's Birthday- check

Charlotte's Birthday Party-check

Bonding with uncle Bubs by falling asleep on him at Costco.

White Oak Lavendar Farm

 Picnic with Ama to kill time at wait for baby Viv.

Yes epidural vs no epidural-it all depends on if you ask during a contraction

She's Here!!!

With the bear at birth and at one month!

Knuckle Dimples

One day when I was working at my old job this woman came in and she had her two kids with her and they were probably 5 and 7. She asked about Charlotte and I told her how big she was getting.  She wasn't even 2, but man she seemed like such a big girl.  She was a toddler, no longer a baby.  I told the lady that she was walking and talking already and just seemed so grown up.  She asked if Charlotte still had dimples on her hands instead of knuckles.  She said, "my kids now have knuckles and I miss the dimples on their hands."  Now when I look at my kid's hands I check to see that they are still dimples and I remind myself to just be in the moment and enjoy their tiny years.  Charlotte is starting to ever so slightly develop knuckles.  They are coming.  I'm happy that she is getting bigger, but it is so strange too.  I miss her babiness and love her little girliness.   No point to that really, it's just thatI have been thinking about it.

The story of Charlotte's ski class begins like this: I am a crazy person.   My daughter has a little crazy in her too.  Ok maybe she's not really crazy, maybe she's just 3 years old...but I...I really am crazy. Last year when we went skiing she loved it, so when I saw that she could start ski lessons at 3 years old I thought this year was it! For a year I had it planned that I would have her take her first ski class.  Sometimes in my head I live in a fantasyland where I have a great voice, know how to dance, everybody loves me no matter what I do, my house is decluttered and I eat all kinds of chocolate without gaining a pound.  Sometimes in my fantasy land we break out in song like we live in a musical.  Anyway, in this same fantasyland Charlotte was going to take her first ski class at 3 and bounce happily into class and come out 4 hours later doing the pizza pie down the mountain, looking for jumps to show me and loving every second of it.  A couple weeks before the trip I started thinking about how to make this fantasyland dream come true and how to make it "perfect."  One night I woke up at 2 AM worrying about Charlotte getting whiney at this lesson.  I was plotting how to make sure she was well rested enough and offer bribes and then I started worrying about how she would act if she got cold.  I spent an hour (in the middle of the night) researching the best children's gloves and reading multiple articles on coats for little ones and putting together a ridiculous list of items I was going to buy to make this day perfect.  Luckily, I didn't spend as much money as my list had planned, but I did buy good gear to try to make this ski class my "fantasyland vision."   I mentioned I am crazy, right? The day of class comes and she is psyched.  She gets all ready and goes out to her class to meet her teacher.  I don't even remember what set her off, but all of a sudden she started whining and saying that she didn't want to take the class anymore.  Ugh! This is not how it went down in my fantasyland vision.  The next course of events involved Richard and I hiding behind the ski school cabin to spy on the progress without getting in the way, watching Charlotte lie on the ground crying, seeing the ski instructor finally give up and lie down next to her, getting excited when she eventually walked over toward the hill and then being let down again when we realized they were only going over to build a snowman. It was torture for me.  I was wanting to go over and tell the teacher that I made a huge mistake, I was mad that I had raised "that kid" that would push the ski instructor to need a beer after work  and I was mostly frustrated with myself for putting too much pressure on the whole situation.  Finally, I just couldn't take it anymore and realized I was driving myself even more crazy. Rich and I left to go ski and actually enjoy the beautiful day.  We had a great 1st run, 2nd run, and the first half of the 3rd run, until the sad event of Richard tearing his ACL...such a bummer.  After I finally got back to pick up Charlotte from her class, she was totally happy and proud of herself for riding the lift, doing the pizza pie down the hill, and having a good time with the teacher.  He was complimentary about how things ended and said, "she is really smart, a little too smart.  A lot of my techniques didn't work on her."  Ha..that is a really nice way to put it. I guess all is well that ends well.  But I am still crazy for obsessing.

 Daddy-daughter date.  She made her daddy a paper tie.

 Mommy-son date...watching a movie at home.

 Wearing daddy's shoes like a boss.

 Wearing mom's shoes like a boss.

 Mammie is young enough to teach Charlotte how to hopscotch...I want to be like her when I'm in my 80's.