this isn't what I supposed to be doing

The boys are at wrestling practice, I have a huge pile of sewing that needs to be finished, dinner needs to be made, and my house is a disaster, but I have had a request (I swear, for real) to write about a birth story or two, and I just got a text that said a friend of mine was in labor, so I am in a baby kind of mood.

Garrett's birthday last weekend made me a little melancholy, so I will start with him. Because I have, well, zero personal boundaries, this might be kind of graphic for some of my readers, so at the advice of my friend Tina:

READ AT YOUR OWN RISK :)

On February 10th I went to see the midwife, and I swore I had been having contractions the night before. She checked me and said there was definitely going ons, the baby was facing the right way, which was great because until the week prior he had been breech, but no real concern that the baby would come in the next few hours, so go home, relax, and jokingly she told me to clean the living room because she thought she would be by to deliver a baby within the next day. I made an appointment to come back to see her on Valentine's day if there wasn't a baby yet, but I was certain that wouldn't be necessary. I was so disappointed when Valentine's day rolled around and I was still pregnant.

My mom came with me to the appointment so I didn't have to take all the kids in with me. I have had my share of vaginal exams with little people standing at my feet, and I was most certainly not in the mood today. The midwife checked me again. She was really quiet. I was a little concerned, because she is a pretty chatty lady, so of course I asked what was going on. She said that the baby had moved up, further away from my cervix, and where I had been dilated a few days earlier, I was now not. No baby for me today. Maybe not til next week.

Are you kidding me? How to you un-dilate? You can't be less ready to have baby than you were five days before. What kind of evil joke is it for the baby to 'back up"?

I was upset, crying actually, because Levi was almost 2 weeks late and I was miserable everyday after my due date. I made another appointment for the following Monday, convinced I was doomed to be pregnant forever, and went out to my mom. I had hoped to go to the mall to walk or something, but the appointment had taken so long she had to go to work, and I had to go home with the kids. I was in a pretty pathetic mood for the remainder of the day.

Then, as many of you know, that was the day the shootings happened at NIU. I live just up the road from the University, so there was a barrage of ambulances, fire trucks, and police cars zooming past my house for several hours. As the news coverage continued, it took my mind off of my own situation, and I figured I should probably make dinner.

I headed to the kitchen and put Italian sausage in the pan. I remember distinctly what I was making because while I was upstairs having a baby, my dad, brother, and husband ATE MY DINNER!! While making dinner I had an uncontrollable urge to take a shower. I told Brandon her had to finish making dinner so I could take a shower. Although I am certain he thought I was nuts, he did what I said, after all I was 9 months pregnant... was he really going to argue with me?

As soon as I got in the shower, the contractions started coming so hard and fast I couldn't breathe. I got on my hands and knees and tried to yell for someone, anyone, but no noise would come out. I have no idea how long I was actually in the shower. It felt like forever, but was really in the time frame of 5-7 minutes. I heard Charlotte coming up the stairs and Brandon telling her to stay downstairs, Mommy needed to be alone. Luckily, Charlotte doesn't listen when we tell her to not do stuff, so she came in the bathroom by me anyway. I sent her downstairs to get Brandon. When he came upstairs and I told him to call the midwife, he started to ask me questions like "are you sure you are really in labor this time?" "are you timing contractions?"

Logically, and a year after the event, those were probably valid questions, at the time I don't think I reacted quite like he expected. I am pretty sure I informed him in my most calm manner (ha!) I had not taken a watch in to the shower and I have had three other children of course I am in labor. He ran to get the phone, called the midwife, then called my mom.

My mom came over to check on me, and Brandon was running around downstairs trying to feed the three other kids, fill the birthing pool, and talk to the midwife on the phone because she was trying to get to me in a snow storm and during rush hour. My mom was trying to coax me out of the shower so we could go downstairs near the birthing pool. I was adamantly refusing. Finally she just turned the water off in the shower. I told her what I thought about that just about as calmly as I had told Brandon to call the midwife. I angrily got out of the tub, took two steps to the bed, and then headed toward the toilet. I thought I just had to go to the bathroom, but really there was a baby crowning instead.

All I remember of the next few minutes was my mom telling me not to push (I swear I wasn't) and this deer in the headlights expression on her face. Never did she voice her concern, but I think she was afraid I might drop the baby in the toilet. Before I knew it, the baby had come completely out. I unwrapped the cord from his neck, instinctively got all the goop out of his mouth with my fingers, and my mom was calling for Brandon. The midwife who was on the phone with Brandon thought we were kidding.

From the time I got into the shower to the time I had a baby in my hands was less than 30 minutes. It was crazy. We had to wait for the midwife to show up! She checked the baby over, helped me with the after birth, and before she could even fill out the birth record, got a call to go to another birth!! A short while later I realized I was starving. I really wanted and Italian Sausage sandwich... but they had all been eaten!!

Brandon made me something else to eat, and the kids came up to meet the new baby. They wanted to know if NOW we were going to get in the pool in the living room? They had seen Levi being born, so they knew what the tub was for, but this time, they missed the whole thing and they were utterly confused!!

The next week wasn't quite as eventful, although Garrett didn't have a name until he was more than three days old. We simply were convinced that he was going to be a "she" and never came up with a boys name! The kids thought Peter Pan would be appropriate (Mommy did not) The jokes about naming him John weren't very funny immediately post-pardum, but I do have to chuckle about them now. He turned a year old last Saturday and is doing fine. Nearly being born in the toilet seems to have had no negative effects, yet.

I hope that this satisfies some of the enquiring minds :) I am sure I left out all sorts of information that I will think of at two o'clock tomorrow morning. But, you will just have to wait until chapter two, I suppose. I will most likely work my way backwards to Mason, although I may have blocked out most of that one!! Off to make dinner!

I always wanted to be a writer

In a moment of weakness this morning, I sat down to write about how I had taken some time to evaluate my life and where it is now. The original post included my frustrations of unfulfilled dreams, missed chances and opportunities, misguided choices, and a little bit of self loathing. As I was writing that blog, I was interrupted numerous times by the baby crying, toddlers demanding juice, the awful smell of a diaper in desperate need of changing, my four year old daughter pummeling her two year old brother, and the dog puking on the floor after I ignored his whines to be let out. After tending to all those situations, I returned to my half finished writing, and re-read it to get back on my train of thought.

As I read, I began to cry. I always wanted to be a writer. (If you ask my mom, I always wanted to be a bus driver, but that dream has actually been fulfilled). Creative writing, journalistic reports, picture captions, technical manuals, it didn't matter, I wanted to write it. Somewhere along the way, I strayed slightly and became a teacher. My first post seemed to dwell on that point in my life as if it was a disappointing detour. Although I teaching was not as fun as I thought it would be, it did teach me a lot about myself. (most importantly, that I didn't want to be a teacher).

The post went on to comment on how my daily routine is depressing, stressful, and at times beneath me. When I reread that, I was utterly disappointed in myself. Although I have been known to mutter out loud "I graduated from college to do this?" I love my children, nasty diapers and all, more than I could ever show them. All of the negative aspects of my current profession are just in my head. Never should I feel like any of it is beneath me. If anything, for the most part I am probably not worthy. I have the challenge of making sure my children turn into productive, sane, contributing members of society. I have been doubly charged with aiding other parents in completing the same mission. What a dauntingly awesome task. What "profession" could offer me that kind of responsibility and ownership?

I also spent a fair amount of the original post whining about the tight financial situation that is my life at the moment. Many of my friends have high paying professions, jet setter lifestyles, and a freedom that I haven't known in more than 7 years. But, they don't have what I have. The honor of being able to stay at home with my children is the most fantastic gift my husband could offer me. It means a lot of coupon cutting and making due, but the payment is truly priceless. Instead of focusing on how "unfun" it is to make hard choices in the budget, I need to look around and my nice house, my clothed children, the food on the table, and the smiles on their faces when Mommy can come to the classroom Valentine's day party.

And those dashed dreams to be a writer? The most writing I do is letting the teacher know Mason won't be riding the bus today, or spelling Charlotte's name for the millionth time so she can copy it on her paper. Although it isn't earth shattering reporting, or novel worthy content, it is incredibly important. I am not saying I would turn down a freelance/work from home writing opportunity if it were offered to me (wink, wink), but I won't be racing out to corporate America any time soon.

My life may seem boring, or unimportant to many. I know it did to me before I wrote it down like that, but I wouldn't trade it for all the tea in China. I will have plenty of time to work on those other dreams. I know that time will come sooner than I can imagine.

Now if you'll excuse me, I must let the dog back in, refill sippy cups, start making lunch, answer the phone, change the baby, plan dinner, make a grocery list, vacuum the cookies off the living room floor, pay the bills, balance the check book, put the laundry away, change the sheets on the bed, read a story, prepare a game for Friday's class party, return an email to Mason's teacher, feed the dog, take the garbage out, check the mail.......