Impromptu photo op

I thought Cameron looked especially adorable today and decided on a whim to shoot some quick pics of our little two-month-old in the backyard.  It was a gorgeous afternoon and he was really happy!  I love that this was unplanned because I am sure there will be many times in the future when Dave and I go out of our way to plan something special or fun and inevitably it will not turn out as we had hoped.  

Love the turkey butt! 

TWO MONTHS TOO LATE

Finally, after TWO months of mommyhood, I'm finally finding the time to sit down and share the story of my labor and delivery experience...for my own sake and for your reading pleasure!  Despite my best intentions, blogging has taken a back seat as I've been devoting nearly all my time to loving, feeding, caring for, and obsessing over this amazing little boy, Cameron!  In between doing that, I've managed to get a few hours of sleep, a handful of showers, and even made a dinner or two for my patient and helpful hubby!  We were joking with some friends this past weekend that if I didn't update the blog soon, people were going to start thinking some crazy things...like that I was still pregnant ;) So, I am beyond thrilled to report that not only am I no longer pregnant, but I LOVE being this little boy's mommy and am eager to share some of the excitement and challenges that the first couple months have brought.  But FIRST, I'll let some of the many pictures of us & this sweet boy do the talking...

Waiting, waiting, waiting

Proud Daddy

Relieved (and proud!) Momma

Cameron David

Born September 17

at 10:03 a.m.

20.5 inches

Dave's mom & Darrell were among the first to hold him...

...along with Dave's dad and many of our closest friends...

Gerry & Shaina

Marie

Brad & Jen

Jennifer and...

John

Cristin

Brian

Seth

Cameron was also warmly welcomed by my parents who were able to help us for about a week and a half after his birth 

"Nana" (in case you didn't notice the pin on her shirt!)

"Pop-E"

And now...for any and all who care...the long awaited story of how this little guy made his way into the world...

Contractions began at 4:45 a.m. on Friday the 16th when I suddenly awoke thinking my water broke.  I very matter-of-factly informed Dave, called my OB's office, and then we both quickly got ourselves ready and waited to hear back from the on-call midwife.  She FINALLY called an hour later and, because I was GBS positive, we were told to head to the hospital.  We jumped in the car and checked in around 6 a.m., filled with a mixture of excitement and nervousness at the thought that it was the day were we going to meet our son!  At this point contractions had been on and off, but I was not leaking any more fluid and when the nurse checked me, she wasn't able to verify whether or not my water had broken...so, she sent us walking around the hospital for an hour to see if I would continue losing fluid, which I did not.  I was surprised, confused, and disappointed after I showed no progress and we were discharged at 10 a.m.  In the ten minutes before we left the hospital, I had 3 "strong" contractions (I really had no idea how much stronger they were going to get!) in a row and wondered aloud to Dave "Why are we LEAVING when my contractions are getting STRONGER??!"  In hindsight, I am so glad that we were sent home so I could labor in the comfort of familiar surroundings without being hooked up and constantly monitored. 

On the way home, Dave and I stopped at Bruegger's to get our favorite breakfast bagel sandwiches (another reason I was glad not to be in the hospital--I could EAT!).  My contractions were becoming more regular and we began to keep track of them diligently on my phone.  I still have the list of just about every single contraction I had over the course of that day and have seriously wondered how I could memorialize it...that was a lot of hard work!!  I bore through the discomfort and pain for several hours by walking around until 3:30 in the afternoon before we decided it would be worthwhile to see the OB again.  I was sure that I had progressed after so many hours of contractions being 5-10 mins apart and I wanted to know where we were at before facing the night (or weekend) ahead.  The midwife told us I was 4cm dilated (HOORAYYYY!) and was sure that the baby would be coming soon-ish, but of course, no one could tell us exactly when that would be, sooooooo we were again told to go home and wait it out until contractions were 5-1-1 (Five minutes apart, lasting one minute, for at least one hour) before we could go to the hospital.  

I was encouraged by the progress I had made over the course of the day but didn't feel prepared for what the night ahead would hold.  I figured I wouldn't be getting much sleep (if any), so my plan was to relax as much as possible and take it one contraction at a time.  I did just that by alternating spending time on the birthing ball and briskly pacing around the house while sniffing dryer sheets (strange, I know, but the fresh scent helped me take slower, deeper breaths since my natural response was to want to hold my breath)...Needless to say, I'm pretty sure I looked like a crazy person and I didn't care one bit!  I was beginning to get "in the zone" I guess.  The rest of the world was kind of fading away and all I could concentrate on was getting through the pain and trying to focus on the fact that I was making progress (the power of positive thinking!)  I tried to distract myself and pass the time by doing some normal activities like watching TV, talking on the phone (which didn't last long once I realized I couldn't talk through the contractions), and eating small bits of bland food, until at last I realized the only thing I wanted to do was be by myself in the bathtub making as much progress as I could, as quickly as possible.  Dave was so kind and encouraging and calm throughout the whole day and drew me a bath two or three times that night until finally sometime between 7 and 9 p.m. I reached 5-1-1!!!  If you're still with me at this point, I had been awake and laboring since 4:45 a.m. so it was already a looong day and I was hoping that we would get to the hospital and get this little guy out by 2 or 3 a.m. which was "overly optimistic" to Dave and just laughable to the nurses and probably every other rational person who wasn't feeling the pain and weariness I was.  

What happened in the hospital is more of a blur to me...what I do remember is that the contractions came stronger, lasted longer, and despite making good progress, there was no end in sight when 2 and 3 a.m. rolled around as I had hoped.  After 8 hours had passed and I had received the necessary 2 doses of antibiotics (needed for the strep to not pose a threat to Cameron), we were able to have them break my water to make things speed up a little more.  And they did.  The pain was intense at this point and I considered an epidural MANY times throughout the process, but with encouragement from Dave and his mom, I opted to continue on naturally as best as I could.  The most relief came when I was soaking in the tub with the jets giving my back a chance to relax, even for a minute or two.  I felt like the Lord was giving me just enough relief and was amazed at the power of my own adrenaline, endorphins, and whatever other natural pain blockers my body was producing.  It was an amazing, almost indescribable experience to go through labor this way and I discovered strength in myself that I didn't know I had.  

I kept thinking positively ("This HAS to be over soon!!") and honestly felt strength in knowing how many people were praying for me.  Scripture was coming to mind at the moments when I needed it most, with this one being especially comforting (and how timely that it was on the day I went into labor!):

My main request at this point was "Lord, let it end!!!" but at 7 a.m. when the nurses changed shifts, my plea became more desperate AND more specific--we found out that the reason I was enduring such excruciating lingering pain after each contraction was because little Cameron's head was putting pressure on my back.  The nurse determined that his face was sideways and he needed to turn it 90 degrees so that he would be in a more favorable position for delivering.  When I found this out is when I really wanted to give up.  It seemed too late for an epidural and I had already made it that far without one, and the nurse was confident that if he turned, things would get easier and I'd be ready to push soon after.  HALLELUJAH!  I surrendered total control and actually said aloud "God, it's up to you to turn this baby...I've done all I can!"  The nurse had me move into a few different positions and after some time (minutes seemed like hours) I eventually felt relief and knew that he had turned.  YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!  When they checked me and found that I was fully dilated, I got an enormous burst of energy, sat up straight, opened my eyes wide, and gave every last ounce of energy for the next hour to bring the most precious little boy into my arms...

So, there you have it.  I wish it hadn't taken me so long to type it out and I wish I had the time & energy to share many more stories and pictures from the past two months, but they will come--eventually!  For now, I'll leave you with a few more shots of our sweet son...

Meeting sister Chewy

Super cute sad pouty face

Even more super cute happy face...LOVE that smile