It's probably totally normal to compare pregnancy one to number two, but from everything I've read lately they can be polar opposite in every single way.
With little mister I never had a single second of nausea, but I did have this black hole of hunger that would over come me in the first trimester. I'm talking HANGRY hunger and even after putting away a whole meal it was still not quenched. I also remember my skin starting to really feel tight about this time with little mister. Like water balloon tight all over and my maternity jeans being a chore to pull up over my widening hips. So with number two I'm the same weight but my body seems to be holding he/she differently. Pants still easy to get on and my tummy seems higher for some reason. Nausea was there in the first trimeter for sure but left by the second.
Who knows, all the wives tales may lead you to think it's one gender or another....but only time will tell if it's a little brother or little sister.
I realized I haven't ever told little mister's birth story in writing. And part of this blog is a time capsule for my little family to look back and read about our adventures and how life unfolds for us. So with that in mind, before I have a new story to tell I thought I should put it out there in black and white about how little mister came to us.
I was due October 19th, which would be 40 weeks pregnant. However at 36 weeks my midwife began to say my body was getting ready. And this is also when those weekly appointments begin. So week 37, 38, and 39 all showed more and more how "ready" my body was becoming. I was dilating and effacing and all looked "so promising" for a first time mom. I had even stopped working at 36 weeks because my body seemed to be about to go into labor with what I fondly referred to as lightning crotch with about every 10th step. My job as a nurse in the CVICU was very physically demanding and people were starting to feel my limping waddling discomfort personally those last few weeks. My midwife said no more and to not push all the walking on the trail by our house I had been doing (1.5 miles out and then 1.5 back...which then would lead to no walking for 3-4 days due to the hip and lightning crotch unfortunately).
So off work, off walking for exercise, and with most of my family in town watching the pot waiting for my simmer to turn into a boil.....we waited.
With each visit to the midwife, and each night of not sleeping due to the discomfort I started to get pretty haggard. It was rough. The due date of Oct 19th came and went. I was truly in my own personal marathon of a different kind. It was physically hard, emotionally draining, and then mentally I was trying to just keep positive. I mean, all babies come out eventually right? We didn't know Jonah was a little mister so that helped a little to distract me. But boy oh boy did he seem comfortable in there.
I did not want to be induced unless I absolutely had to be. I didn't want to force nature, I didn't want to end up with a c-section. These were my goals. So when 40 weeks came and went, my midwife set a a kick baby out goal for 41 weeks and 5 days as our induction date. If this little one didn't want to come by then, they felt the placenta would be getting worn out and mentally I would need an intervention. I was walking around 4cm and 80% effaced.........
So the date for induction was set and we set off home again to wait.
Mr. Big Dog wasn't sleeping much since I was up all night tossing and turning. So I pretty much forced him to sleep in our guest room.
I was 41 weeks.
It was 1:20am on October the 27th, 41weeks and 1 day.
I woke up for some reason......decided I should probably get up to use the bathroom and move around.....and as I lied there trying to just get the nerve to push through the pain of moving and muster up the energy to roll over to get up.....pop my water broke. Not a huge gush like people say, just a little and enough for me to think I better get Mr. Big Dog. So what do any couple do in the age of cell phones....I called him from downstairs.
He answered and actually said he had just woken up for some reason too. We called the midwife and they said to come in within the next hour.
So we started to straighten up the house, let the dogs out, check to make sure we had everything, kind of at a moderate speed. Then it got real, REAL fast. I was in the laundry room when the first contraction of any substance almost took me to my knees. I called for Mr. Big Dog and said I would be making my way to the car and he needed to speed up from my former dilly dallying speed seconds before.
We quickly took off and the ride between our house and the hospital was about 20mins. I remember all 4 contractions between here and there. The intensity, the pain, and the realness that this was happening and this baby was coming. The realness that I had no control or power over any of it. Not the due date, not the time, not the speed...but I was still holding on to the hope of the place....that being the hospital and not the car.
We made it there, got checked in and the midwife checked me at 7cm. Again the optimism began with the hospital staff. This baby will be here by 8am, and it was now 3am. The epidural was being called for, I was ready. I was relieved it was all worth the wait and I would be having as natural a delivery as I could.
I loved my epidural and felt the best I had felt in 5 weeks, except of course I couldn't move my legs but it didn't matter the pain and discomfort was gone and I was going to have my little baby soon enough. I would find out what he/she was.
Then 8am came and went, and I was still 7cm. My contractions were happening but not progressing me along. It was like another little finger shake from God just saying "why do you count your eggs before they have hatched?" ( kind of literally right? ) " I am in control not you." And that is when I really felt full surrender. I had a great nurse who did everything in her power to keep my labor progressing. Flipping me side to side every couple hours, medications were started to help my contractions be more efficient. Then a fever started. Followed by tylenol, Ibuprofen and antibiotics. This was not looking good. Fevers don't make for great labor and everything started to putter out. I slept as much as I could though out the day. But if I was to have a c-section then that was the fate. I had done all I could do to not intervene and now was proof that it was all going to happen however it was suppose to. It was not up to me.
Then about 5pm everything started to work. The fever was breaking, the antibiotics must have been doing their job and I was 10cm by 6pm and 100% effaced. I made it, I remember thinking. This was it, time to push and meet my little one. I was tired but so excited.
I have never worked so hard for anything in my life. Not my running, not my 100 mile bike ride, this was by far the most physically demanding thing I have ever done in my life. Oh and the epidural stopped working just as I was pushing.....so it was wearing off with each contraction. Not that I want some badge of courage for that, but I think it did make it more memorable and mentally tough for me....with each push I was closer and closer but it took 2.5 hours.
It was now 8:20pm......Jonah Matthew Rios came into this world at 9 lbs 9oz 21.5inches long. A head full of hair and a loud cry. He was moving all around as they were trying to measure him and weigh him. He was huge and tanky. I remember Mr. Big Dog telling me sweetly he was a HE. I'll never forget his face as he told me we had a son. It was one of the best moments of my life. It was like it was just Mr. Big Dog and I in that room and we now had our son. Time seemed to just stand still for that minute.
They brought him to me quickly and I got to see how he was perfectly made.
The past 18 hours of labor, the past 41 weeks and 1 day were all worth it. No matter how hard it seemed at the time, every second had a purpose and made the reward so much sweeter.
He was and is amazing. I can't believe he's already 16months old and I am about to do it again with his sibling.
God is good and is in complete control. He takes care of my family and will give me whatever I need when I need it.
With little mister I never had a single second of nausea, but I did have this black hole of hunger that would over come me in the first trimester. I'm talking HANGRY hunger and even after putting away a whole meal it was still not quenched. I also remember my skin starting to really feel tight about this time with little mister. Like water balloon tight all over and my maternity jeans being a chore to pull up over my widening hips. So with number two I'm the same weight but my body seems to be holding he/she differently. Pants still easy to get on and my tummy seems higher for some reason. Nausea was there in the first trimeter for sure but left by the second.
Who knows, all the wives tales may lead you to think it's one gender or another....but only time will tell if it's a little brother or little sister.
I realized I haven't ever told little mister's birth story in writing. And part of this blog is a time capsule for my little family to look back and read about our adventures and how life unfolds for us. So with that in mind, before I have a new story to tell I thought I should put it out there in black and white about how little mister came to us.
I was due October 19th, which would be 40 weeks pregnant. However at 36 weeks my midwife began to say my body was getting ready. And this is also when those weekly appointments begin. So week 37, 38, and 39 all showed more and more how "ready" my body was becoming. I was dilating and effacing and all looked "so promising" for a first time mom. I had even stopped working at 36 weeks because my body seemed to be about to go into labor with what I fondly referred to as lightning crotch with about every 10th step. My job as a nurse in the CVICU was very physically demanding and people were starting to feel my limping waddling discomfort personally those last few weeks. My midwife said no more and to not push all the walking on the trail by our house I had been doing (1.5 miles out and then 1.5 back...which then would lead to no walking for 3-4 days due to the hip and lightning crotch unfortunately).
So off work, off walking for exercise, and with most of my family in town watching the pot waiting for my simmer to turn into a boil.....we waited.
With each visit to the midwife, and each night of not sleeping due to the discomfort I started to get pretty haggard. It was rough. The due date of Oct 19th came and went. I was truly in my own personal marathon of a different kind. It was physically hard, emotionally draining, and then mentally I was trying to just keep positive. I mean, all babies come out eventually right? We didn't know Jonah was a little mister so that helped a little to distract me. But boy oh boy did he seem comfortable in there.
I did not want to be induced unless I absolutely had to be. I didn't want to force nature, I didn't want to end up with a c-section. These were my goals. So when 40 weeks came and went, my midwife set a a kick baby out goal for 41 weeks and 5 days as our induction date. If this little one didn't want to come by then, they felt the placenta would be getting worn out and mentally I would need an intervention. I was walking around 4cm and 80% effaced.........
So the date for induction was set and we set off home again to wait.
Mr. Big Dog wasn't sleeping much since I was up all night tossing and turning. So I pretty much forced him to sleep in our guest room.
I was 41 weeks.
It was 1:20am on October the 27th, 41weeks and 1 day.
I woke up for some reason......decided I should probably get up to use the bathroom and move around.....and as I lied there trying to just get the nerve to push through the pain of moving and muster up the energy to roll over to get up.....pop my water broke. Not a huge gush like people say, just a little and enough for me to think I better get Mr. Big Dog. So what do any couple do in the age of cell phones....I called him from downstairs.
He answered and actually said he had just woken up for some reason too. We called the midwife and they said to come in within the next hour.
So we started to straighten up the house, let the dogs out, check to make sure we had everything, kind of at a moderate speed. Then it got real, REAL fast. I was in the laundry room when the first contraction of any substance almost took me to my knees. I called for Mr. Big Dog and said I would be making my way to the car and he needed to speed up from my former dilly dallying speed seconds before.
We quickly took off and the ride between our house and the hospital was about 20mins. I remember all 4 contractions between here and there. The intensity, the pain, and the realness that this was happening and this baby was coming. The realness that I had no control or power over any of it. Not the due date, not the time, not the speed...but I was still holding on to the hope of the place....that being the hospital and not the car.
We made it there, got checked in and the midwife checked me at 7cm. Again the optimism began with the hospital staff. This baby will be here by 8am, and it was now 3am. The epidural was being called for, I was ready. I was relieved it was all worth the wait and I would be having as natural a delivery as I could.
I loved my epidural and felt the best I had felt in 5 weeks, except of course I couldn't move my legs but it didn't matter the pain and discomfort was gone and I was going to have my little baby soon enough. I would find out what he/she was.
Then 8am came and went, and I was still 7cm. My contractions were happening but not progressing me along. It was like another little finger shake from God just saying "why do you count your eggs before they have hatched?" ( kind of literally right? ) " I am in control not you." And that is when I really felt full surrender. I had a great nurse who did everything in her power to keep my labor progressing. Flipping me side to side every couple hours, medications were started to help my contractions be more efficient. Then a fever started. Followed by tylenol, Ibuprofen and antibiotics. This was not looking good. Fevers don't make for great labor and everything started to putter out. I slept as much as I could though out the day. But if I was to have a c-section then that was the fate. I had done all I could do to not intervene and now was proof that it was all going to happen however it was suppose to. It was not up to me.
Then about 5pm everything started to work. The fever was breaking, the antibiotics must have been doing their job and I was 10cm by 6pm and 100% effaced. I made it, I remember thinking. This was it, time to push and meet my little one. I was tired but so excited.
I have never worked so hard for anything in my life. Not my running, not my 100 mile bike ride, this was by far the most physically demanding thing I have ever done in my life. Oh and the epidural stopped working just as I was pushing.....so it was wearing off with each contraction. Not that I want some badge of courage for that, but I think it did make it more memorable and mentally tough for me....with each push I was closer and closer but it took 2.5 hours.
It was now 8:20pm......Jonah Matthew Rios came into this world at 9 lbs 9oz 21.5inches long. A head full of hair and a loud cry. He was moving all around as they were trying to measure him and weigh him. He was huge and tanky. I remember Mr. Big Dog telling me sweetly he was a HE. I'll never forget his face as he told me we had a son. It was one of the best moments of my life. It was like it was just Mr. Big Dog and I in that room and we now had our son. Time seemed to just stand still for that minute.
They brought him to me quickly and I got to see how he was perfectly made.
The past 18 hours of labor, the past 41 weeks and 1 day were all worth it. No matter how hard it seemed at the time, every second had a purpose and made the reward so much sweeter.
He was and is amazing. I can't believe he's already 16months old and I am about to do it again with his sibling.
God is good and is in complete control. He takes care of my family and will give me whatever I need when I need it.
This picture was his ride home from the hospital.....I've never been so terrified in my life.
And this was a week home...already about 10lbs just observing everything. My blog header he was about 2weeks old....it goes so quick!
