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It All Started with a Piece of Cake
When I look back on my labor and delivery with Toddler B, it’s with fond and proud memories. I went into labor on my due date, everything went according to plan and happened very quickly. I had him naturally, with no drugs as I had intended. It was beautiful.
As we ate B’s leftover birthday cake the night before my due date, I thought this labor and delivery would be just that- a piece of cake. I’d done it before, the second was “supposed” to be faster, and I’d felt so great all week I thought I might have a baby by the end of the weekend, but certainly not on my due date. What are the chances?
Then, a plastic plate hit the floor. It was the last piece of birthday cake, and without hesitating or thinking, I dove, nine months pregnant, to save a piece of cake from the dog like I was saving a child from oncoming traffic. I got up from the floor laughing hysterically at myself. Shortly after, I sent this text to my coworker: (pardon the autocorrect)
Funny, right? Well, about 10 minutes later I started feeling very unusual.
It was just past B’s bedtime when the real contractions started, but the pain was all in my lower back. By 1 a.m. they were 2 minutes apart, so we went to the hospital. When we arrived, I was only 2cm dilated so we walked around slowly for an hour, still contracting every 2-3 minutes with nearly unbearable pain in my back. I hadn’t progressed. The triage nurse mentioned that I was “posterior” but she wasn’t concerned because it was early. I was in so much pain I didn’t quite process what she was saying. Turns out, the baby was positioned with his head down, but facing the wrong direction, making it more difficult. It was around 5 a.m. and I still hadn’t progressed at all. I was waking up Drew to help get me through each contraction, which were becoming fewer and farther between but just as painful. I was exhausted and defeated. The nurse gave me a Lortab to ease the pain and sent us home. I spent 5am-8am sleeping between contractions, wondering if I could birth a posterior baby. Luckily, I had a scheduled appointment at 9:30am for my due date, so I knew I could see my midwife and get some answers.
Like a crazy person, I showed up to the office for my regularly-scheduled appointment, only instead of entering the building with some sense of composure, I was crying behind my sunglasses, trying not to make a scene in the waiting room while having contractions. I didn’t wait long because it turns out as soon as the front desk saw me they called a nurse. Everyone seemed more in the know than I was… when the midwife checked me I was 6cm. Time to finally go to labor and delivery! The midwife showed me a few tricks to turn the baby and after traumatizing those poor pregnant women in the waiting room on our way out with my wincing, breathing and moaning, we drove quickly right around the corner to the hospital where we were led straight into a delivery room. It was about 10am.
Contractions were strong and close together, but I still had about a 2-minute break in between and my water still hadn’t broken, which according to most movies and birth stories I’ve heard, meant I had a little time before the baby arrived. So, when I said, “I have to go to the bathroom,” the midwife told me to go ahead, but sit backwards in case I had a contraction so I could lean and breathe through it. Drew followed me and a nurse followed him, putting on her gloves. That’s when it happened- my water- right into the toilet. Not a second later the baby followed- thank God the nurse was there to catch! The midwife and the rest of the nurses ran into the bathroom to assist, shocked at the sudden arrival. For a baby who seemed in no rush to get here, he certainly waited for an opportune time… and location.
Baby Bryce was born at 11:59a.m. weighing 7lbs, 15oz and measuring 20.5 inches. We briefly considered naming him “John.”
The Worst Part of Being a Parent
With just a couple of weeks to go before we meet our exciting new addition, our family is already changing before my eyes. Toddler B will be three in just over a week, and recently I realized the one thing that is truly the worst part of being a parent.
It’s not the sleepless nights, the toddler tantrums, the battles over bedtime or the constant worrying. The worst part is a very different kind of unknown.
Last Thursday, B stopped napping. Usually on weekends he would consistently fall asleep in the car, I’d carry him inside on my shoulder and snuggle on the sofa, snoozing for an hour or two before snack time. He still looks like a baby when he’s asleep. Not just a blur of activity and motion and dirt and noise like he does during every waking hour. He’s safe and warm and comfortable in his mommy’s arms. But last Thursday, he stopped napping.
Maybe he’ll do it again on occasion after a busy day or while battling a cold, but I don’t know when that will be or if it will happen or how many times. I realized… the worst part of parenting is not knowing when it’s the last time, while you’re in the last time.
Someday I will nap with him on the sofa in my arms for the last time. It may have already happened. Someday I will carry him from the car for the last time, or help him use the potty, or put a band-aid on a hurt knee. On all of these occasions I will just go about the task routinely, unaware of the monumental privilege I may never have again. The last time will come and go, only for me to try to remember later when I realize there hasn’t been another.
They don’t tell us. We don’t get a notification. It’s not written down in a book of developmental milestones. There’s no fanfare or celebration or recognition. These moments just pass as part of life.
Soon I’ll be singing happy birthday to my baby boy. And welcoming another life that will be full of last times. Luckily for me we all still have so many firsts to look forward to.
Almost Ready
At 36 weeks, we’re officially a month away from our baby boy. After a pretty rough third trimester riddled with cold virus after cold virus because of my compromised immune system, I’m finally feeling normal again, or at least as normal as one can feel while carrying a bowling ball around in their stomach all day and night. I recently came to an agreement with my baby bump, that he’ll arrive at a time and date convenient with my busy schedule. After all, it’s the least he can do for putting me through all that discomfort.
So far, he’s holding up his end of the bargain as we get ready for his arrival and I wrap up our most important project of the year at work, as well as plan Toddler B’s third birthday party. I still have a few things to check off my list- install the infant car seat, pack a hospital bag, etc. But we recently completed one major transition that was essential for baby’s arrival- B’s big boy bed.
If there’s one pregnancy stereotype that’s true in my case, it’s nesting. I love getting the house ready for a new baby even if it means redesigning a toddler room instead of a nursery. Since we already have what we need for a baby from Toddler B, I was excited to take on the task of painting, planning and assembling everything in his brand new room. Don’t worry, I wore a medical mask while painting and I only lifted half a bed. Despite crazy looks from my husband for being a little too ambitious for someone in their third trimester, we finished B’s new superhero room just in time for the
new year. He loves his new room and his new bed!
Santa is Coming to Town
Last Trip as a Family of Three
Bringing a new addition to the family comes with a few mixed feelings. We are of course ecstatic about our new baby, but juggling an infant and a toddler will have its challenges. Before we add to the chaos, we wanted to take some quality time to enjoy our little family of three. So, we packed up our Highlander and headed to the happiest place on Earth- Disneyland!Familiar Voices
Oh, Boy!
Baby Bautista: Take Two
In just six months, we will be adding a new baby to our family! Toddler B is getting promoted to big brother, and though he’s not entirely sure of what’s going on, over the coming months it will start to be clear that something big is happening. That something big will be my belly… even though right now it’s barely a glimpse of what’s to come:















