The One About the Baby...

And without further ado, I am pleased to introduce you to our newest blessing,

ELIZABETH GRACE KA'IULANI HOLLOWAY

She was born on June 26, 2011 at 11:50PM. I don't know why folks are interested in birth weights or lengths, but if that's your thing, she was 6lbs, 5 ounces and 19 1/2 inches long.

(She is also the reason that I haven't blogged in almost 2 months.) (But she's totally worth it.)

So now I'm going to share Elizabeth's birth story with you. (Don't worry, I'll spare you the really gross parts...) Here goes:

I'd been having Braxton-Hicks contractions for quite a few weeks before she was born, and so I called my mother and told her that she'd better drive down to Alabama soon so she wouldn't miss the birth. Wouldn't you know it, as soon as my mom arrived, the contractions stopped completely. I didn't have another until she'd been here almost a week.

In the meantime, we'd had our new floors installed in our kitchen, hallway, living and dining rooms, bought new furniture (and had it delivered!), and even threw The Hubster his surprise 30th birthday party! And... still no baby.

That changed on Saturday, June 26. The day started just like any other day; I got up, made the twins their breakfast, cleaned up the house a little. I met with a friend, showed some Craigslist buyers some items and even took a nap.

At about 2:00PM, I started having real contractions (not the BH kind). They were spaced really far apart, about 15 minutes or so, and were low in my back. They kept coming at irregular intervals, so I called the hospital close to our home (not the one I was scheduled to deliver at), to see when they suggested I come in. I didn't want to drive all the way to Columbus (where I was supposed to deliver the baby-- about a 45 minute drive) only to be told that I hadn't dilated and then subsequently be sent all the way back home.

(Side Note: When I went to the doctor 4 days earlier, the midwife checked my cervix and said that she couldn't even feel it; that I was not dilated at all, and that my cervix hadn't even moved down into position. This is the reason why I stayed at home for as long as I did...)

Anyway.

Eventually, the contractions got down to about 6 minute intervals, and it was pure back labor. I tried every position I could think of to get comfortable, but it just didn't work. I tried sitting on the couch, I tried sitting on the floor. I tried getting on all fours (not advised if you have hardwood floors), I tried sitting backwards on the toilet chair and leaning over it. I tried pretty much every position I could find on the internet to help ease the pain. There was no denying it though... I was having the dreaded Back Labor.

At about 6PM, I called the midwife. There was a very bad storm rolling in (thunder, lightning, hail, you-name-it), and I didn't think I was going to make it to Columbus. She encouraged me to try because now my contractions were dead-on 6 minutes apart. I was scared. Because of the storm, I knew it would take us much longer than the usual 45 minutes, and I didn't think I would make it all that way. I certainly didn't want to have the baby in the car!

I told the Hubster that I definitely wanted to go to the hospital right by our home, but I didn't want to leave the house just yet because it was raining sideways and the thunder/lightning/hail was pretty bad. We waited it out for about another hour and a half and then I couldn't take it anymore. (The vomiting was a good indication that it was time to go.) (And I think so was my screaming, "MY BACK IS BREAKING!" at every contraction...)

When we arrived at the hospital, the Hubster dumped me at the entrance to the Emergency Room and went to park the car. I hobbled into the ER and the woman at the front desk was already on the telephone with the maternity ward telling them that I was on my way up. They had a wheelchair waiting on me, and I had two contractions on my way up. One in the elevator, the other in the hallway. The one in the elevator was pure torture.

When the nurses got me into the delivery room, they checked my cervix and found I was already dilated at 7+ centimeters, and 100% effaced! I was so surprised that I got that far on my own! (The Hubster always tells me how low my pain tolerance is, so you can imagine my surprise when they told me that, considering most women get epidurals at 4 centimeters.) I told them that I was supposed to deliver my baby at a hospital in Columbus, and the nurse said, "Honey, you ain't going nowhere. Otherwise, you'll end up having your baby in your vehicle!" That was enough to convince me to stay put. That, and the fact that I felt like my back would break at any moment.

Speaking of the pain, I can honestly say that unmedicated childbirth is the WORST pain I have ever felt in my life. I literally felt like my back was going to shatter, my vagina was being ripped open, and my body was going to split in half. I'm not exaggerating or being overly dramatic-- this is truly what I thought was happening. The nurse (a sweet woman named Beth) told me that because I was already 8 centimeters along, I wouldn't be able to have an epidural or any other medication to dull the pain. I couldn't believe it. I burst into tears because the pain was so overwhelming. I really didn't know how I was going to do this all on my own.

But I did.

Beth told me to push because it was time for us to meet our child. I told Beth I couldn't, because my back would break. She assured me that my back would not break and to push anyway.

Two pushes, and our precious Elizabeth was born into this world.

And then there were 5. :)

A Whole LOTTA Strawberries!

I've discovered something that the babies LOVE to do: pick strawberries! So we've been going about once a week for the past three weeks or so and picking a big ol' bucket each time. (Actually, I think more goes into the babies' mouths than in the bucket, but... I think that's the way its supposed to be, right?)

Here are some photos of yesterday's trip. It was extra special, because The Hubster actually got to come with us!

Showing Daddy where the very best berries are!

My two best helpers!

Stopping to sample the merchandise.

Mmm...!

Strawberry kisses!! (And this one, of course, is my favorite!)

I just have to tell you how glad I am to be able to share things like this with my children. I can remember picking vegetables in my grandparents' garden when I was little. Being out in the sun, surrounded by so much greenery and watching the twins run and play among the rows of strawberries really makes me remember how blessed I am.

Life is... good. :)

Don't Ever Ask a M.o.M. (Mother of Multiples)...

Most people... ok, 9 out of every 10 people (literally) that we know have asked us about having twins and how they were "made".



Side note: Please don't EVER (like, ever ever, like, as you wouldn't touch a black man's radio...) ask a M.o.M if her babies are "natural". They are made from organic matter, they breathe air, and they are definitely not robots. Of course they are natural! Idiot. Ok, yes, that's some sarcasm you are sensing; I know what these people are implying. I just think it is an incredibly rude, ignorant, and insensitive question to ask someone in the grocery store or at Walmart. Unless you are my mother or my BFF [who happens to be The Hubster], then you don't need to know. And if you are my mother or my BFF, then you already do know. But, because inquiring minds want to know, here is today's blog post:



I never realized how common "infertility" is. I put it in quotations because it's all really just a relative term. When The Hubster and I decided that we would like to start a family, we were told by quite a few doctors that the chances of us conceiving naturally were a crap shoot. A billion to one. It just wudn't gunna happen. We were told our only ONLY way of ever conceiving a child would be an expensive series of procedures known commonly as In Vitro Fertilization. We looked into it and yes, it was very expensive. We contacted our (military) health insurance provider only to be given a total run around and told that we would have to be put on a 3-year waiting list and even then we'd still have to come out of pocket for some of the procedures and medications.



It was all very heartbreaking and depressing.



We didn't know anyone who had done these treatments before, so we felt very much alone in our journey. We had watched friends and knew people that (despite our personal beliefs) had had abortions and given their unplanned children away to adoptive parents. I think that was the hardest for us. We tried so hard to conceive-- basal temperature charting, ovulation charting, you name it...-- and to see our friends (in a manner of speaking) getting rid of their unwanted blessings just crushed us. We even spoke with a friend of ours who found herself unmarried, without a home, and pregnant, and offered to adopt her child. She flatly refused our offer and aborted her child 4 days later. I honestly cannot convey in words how much this hurt me.



At any rate, when we learned of the cost (financially and timewise) of these IVF treatments (and how most couples are not successful on their first try), we were disappointed. Because the military moves us around so frequently, we weren't even sure we would still be at the same base in 3 years, thereby negating the 3-year wait that our insurance required. We felt we had no other option than to either pay out of pocket (which, really, wasn't an option) or... to pray. (Side note: Its funny how, so often, we forget that prayer should be our first option instead of our last resort.)



Anyway, we prayed. We prayed that God would bless us with a child that we would love and raise up to worship Him as He intended. We prayed for guidance, wisdom, and strength. At least, I know I did. I was an emotional wreck. My whole life, I never wanted a baby. But when I married The Hubster, all that changed. Suddenly, all I could think of was snuggling a tiny, precious infant. Of that infant, when he/she became a toddler waving at the door greeting The Hubster after a long day of work. Of making Rice Krispy treats like the commercials on television, of toting him/her to swim practice, football practice, ballet class, and summer camp. Fixing my baby girl's hair on the evening of her prom. Kissing my sweet son as he graduates from high school. Driving back to Auburn after so many years and helping my child unpack his college dorm room. Standing on the steps of the church while my precious baby drives away with his/her beloved to begin a life of their own...



I told you, I'm emotional.



Anyway. When people say that prayer works, they are not lying. My husband and I prayed and prayed and prayed as hard and as much and as diligently as anyone could ever possibly pray. In April 2009, we learned not only were we pregnant, but we would be expecting twins! (The old addage of "Be careful what you wish pray for..." definitely applies!) And in October of last year, we found we would welcome another precious blessing this July. And I can assure you, these children are natural (whatever that means).



(Another side note: I'd like to find those doctors that said we would never have children and slap them with a child support lawsuit and hold them responsible for 3 college tuitions!)



So, I suppose the moral of my story is that I just want you to know that those of you that do struggle with "infertility" to please do not ever give up hope. And to those of you that have been blessed to get pregnant "naturally" on your first, second, third and subsquent tries: Please consider yourself lucky. I know I definitely do.

Wordless Wednesday -- Hooray for Twins!

Enjoy. :)

I know, I know. Sometimes I just can't help myself.

I just have to tell you how smart my babies are.

I know every parent thinks that their child is a genius (and I'm sure they're right!) but there is truly something special about my babies. This morning, we were watching The Today Show. They had a segment about rescued (wild) animals, and they happened to feature a cormorant (which happens to look very much like a duck). Now, my children have never seen anything other than a cartoon duck (that I can recall), so their reaction to the "duck" on television really surprised me. They started yelling, "Uck! Uck! Quack! Quack!"

See? I told you. They are geniuses. And I'm pretty sure they get that from their mother.

And if you need proof of their cuteness, just look:

(See that pile of folded laundry on the arm of the couch? Please excuse it. On second thought, don't. I'm proud to say that the pile was actually folded and not just strewn about. For once!)