Millie's Birth Story.

My pregnancy with Miss Millie was a doozy.   I was very tired, very ran down and very exhausted.  Maybe because I was older (32) or maybe because I had just delivered twins 14 months prior, or maybe because I was chasing 4 little toddlers around while being pregnant.   Or maybe a combination of all the above.   Whatever the case, it was a tough pregnancy. 

I went to the doctor twice and was absolutely positive I was in labor, only to be sent home for another few weeks of monitoring and pregnancy.    My doctor had scheduled an induction for 38 weeks and I was thrilled.   Counting down the days and minutes until that day.   We had our bags packed, we had arranged for 2 different babysitters to watch our other 4 little munchkins.   Dad had the day off, my mom had the day off and I was ready.

We arrived at the hospital at 9am.   They didn't have me on the schedule.   "Did I have the date wrong?" She asked.  Definitely not.  I have been counting this day down for months.   "Could we have the hospital wrong?"   She called the other hospitals.  Nope.   She called my OB.   He had me on HIS schedule, but forgot to call the hospital.   So, they asked if I could go home and come back an hour later to get things ready for me.   Sure.   I can wait one more hour.

We come back at 10am.  I'm in the system and my paperwork was here.  I got all hooked up to monitors and in my hospital gown. 

The nurse comes in and asked

"So, how are we going to induce you today if you're only 38 weeks?  We can't induce anyone for insurance purposes unless there is a medical reason or you are 39 weeks." 

 I replied "Well, I don't know.  This is just the day the doctor had scheduled." 

She said she would monitor me and the baby for 30 minutes, but if everything looked normal then I would be sent home.

What.
the.
heck.

I was so furious.  So upset.  So heart broken. 
I couldn't go home.  We had everything lined up for today.  My in-laws were in town from St. George.  We had baby sitters.  We took time off work.   I cannot go home.

I called the doctor office and asked to speak to my OB.   He wasn't in.  I was texting all my labor nurse friends asking if they had his cell phone number.  I was leaving messages with the receptionist.  I was frantic and I was NOT leaving.

Suddenly, my OB arrived in my hospital room. 

He said  "You are 39 weeks.  Your delivery date is July 17th.   That's what my records show."   

Hmm, news to me.  But okay, let's do this.
He broke my water, they started an IV and we were cruising toward baby town.

I had two doses of antibiotics because of Group B strep before they would start my pitocin.  Pitocin wasn't started until 2pm, (when I thought I would be hooked up by 10am).   My mom arrived and she hung out with Caden and I all day.  It took me a while to dilate, but I was comfortable and had received my epidural so life was good.

Hazel and Oakley were playing all day with Grandma and Grandpa Hall.  Went to a movie, went swimming and visiting their new baby cousin, Hudson.  They were in heaven and anxious to meet baby sister.  Ava and Ellie were with Aunt Linda and getting in to all sorts of mischief.  No idea that they would be big sisters in just a few short hours.

While we wait for me to dilate, we had a fire alarm go off as well as a news crew touring the hospital.  So many very bizarre things happening this day.   In true Millie fashion, nothing was going according to plan.

Around 5pm, I still had only dilated to about a 7.   Aunt Linda needed to go home and we didn't have a babysitter lined up for the twins.   I called my sister in a panic and she went to sit with the twins.   Grandma and Grandpa Hall came to visit at the hospital with Hazel and Oakley before they were headed off to bed.   My oldest sister and her kids came to visit around that time as well.

Wouldn't you know it--I start to dilate.

I feel lots of pressure and I tell my nurse I think it's go-time.   My in-laws took my girls to grab some McDonald's and said they would come back to meet baby sister.   My oldest sister got to stay in the room while I pushed, as well as Mom and Caden. 


I hired my friend to take my birth story pictures.  I called her to let her know I was ready for her.  She can't find me or my room.   Turns out she went to the wrong hospital.   Luckily, the correct hospital isn't too far away and she arrives just in time.

Another bump in the road--my OB isn't available.  He's at another hospital delivering another baby.  My nurse tells me to hold baby in, but says she has another OB on-call and asks him to come in my room in case I really need to push.  He comes in to hang out and we wait for my OB to arrive.

My OB makes it in time.  We get ready to push.  7 hours after pitocin is started, I push twice and out arrives our beautiful Millie.   Weighing in at 7lb and 12oz and 19inches long.   She has a head full of dark hair and she nurses immediately. 

Millie has been the sweetest little baby ever since she arrived.  She's very calm, very easy going.  She doesn't fuss, doesn't spit up, hardly ever cries.  She nurses like a champion and doesn't let the smothers from big sister bother her a single bit.  She's such a mellow little caboose and such a sweet blessing to our family. 

We love you, Mille Anne.
Welcome to the family.
xo

32.

March is a good month for me.  It’s my birthday month and I celebrate all month long.  This month was no exception.  I paid someone to clean my house (best idea ever), Caden bought me a massage, I won a Maskcara giveaway worth $60, I celebrated my actual birthday at a LIVE Survivor viewing party with Joe Anglim and Sierra Dawn, and then Caden took me to dinner at my favorite restaurant while our girls stayed home with family.   

I love my birthday.  It’s a time for others to show their love and to celebrate ME in their life, which is really such a sweet thing.   I’m a Words of Affirmation girl, so I soak up every text and card that I receive.   I love it.   Birthdays are also a time for me to reflect on the past year.  Things I’ve accomplished, trials I’ve had, successes that have come my way, and all the blessings that I have.  It’s by far my favorite day of the whole year, and I’m not shy about letting people know that. 

With that being said, 31 was a hard year for me.  I had my baby twins and then 5 days later I turned 31.   The year was spent keeping tiny little humans alive, all day every day was mommy-ing.    I had days that I loved every second, and days I spent laying on my bed in tears.  Some days I was rocking life as the Mom of 4, and other days I was completely overwhelmed by simple tasks.   I changed jobs from a company that I thought I would be at forever, and struggled finding a place in a new company that I loved just as much. It was a roller coaster of emotions.   

I remember feeling so lost in who I was and the things I enjoyed beyond Motherhood and being a Nurse.   I forced myself to make a list of things I enjoyed and hobbies I had, just to remind myself that I was actually a person before a Mom.  My identity was tangled up in the daily grind of little children.  Just as I started finding myself, going to the gym, working off the baby weight, finding confidence in who I was...I got pregnant again.   Cue the emotions.  

31 was a year of babies.  Of pregnancies.  Of twins.  Of mommying harder than I ever have before.   I’m beyond grateful for my sweet children.   For my husband who manages our estrogen so very well.  For my family who support me and help me on the daily with my tiny entourage.   For my friends to lean on when I struggle.   I am beyond blessed for this life I lead.  I think so often about where it could be had I not met Caden, had we decided not to attend Church, had I kept drinking, had I stayed with my previous group of friends.  So many forks in the road that could have lead me down a dark and scary path, and I’m so happy with the path I chose instead.  So happy with how my life has turned out and where I have landed at age 32.   Life is good.   I am stoked to be raising a tiny girl gang with a man that I am madly in love with.   And I could not be more blessed and thankful for all that I have. 

I think 32 is going to be a good year.   It may not be the year that I accomplish goals, or lose weight, or start a new hobby.  It may be another year of mommy-ing and taking care of tiny babies.  And I'm okay with that.   Taking it one day at a time, just trying to survive the day and keep all my little itty-bitties alive and happy.   But, what really could be better than hanging out with 5 tiny little girls who are my very best of friends?  And spending the nights with a man who makes me happy beyond all reason?!  I mean, seriously.  32 is going to be a good year.  I feel it in my bones.   
...my tired, achy bones.

Cheers to 32.

And all the adventures that come with it.