Tag Archives: baby #3

Sparrow – month 1

I don’t know if this kid is just different or if I had more time on my hands with the other two to notice all the little things and write a bunch about them.

Sparrow is a month old today. Seems weird. Anyway, there really isn’t much to say. Mostly he eats and sleeps. He kind of goes along with our life, but occasionally decides to throw a wrench into the whole operation and demand attention.

The last few days we’ve noticed that he’s kind of woken up a little and become a more observant. But like I said, mostly he just sleeps and eats.

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Happy due date!

I never thought I’d be able to say that with one of my kids. Though, there are many indicators that my due date was likely earlier than what we calculated.

So anyway, I think I came to a decision on the blog nickname: Sparrow.

Sparrow is a really sweet, really laid back baby. He rarely cries and it’s usually because he is uncomfortable (soiled diaper, not swaddled, too hot, etc.) or hungry. He gets pretty extreme about it until the problem is resolved and then he’s back to chill, calm sweet baby boy again.

After Sprout and all of his super sensitivities, reflux and general digestive irritability, terrible sleeping abilities (still!), and all that it has been so nice to have a baby that is pretty much the opposite of that. It’s keeping me sane and allowing me to stay up with the other two.

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Little photo shoot

Stephen has been gone all morning. Bean had her summer preschool class and Sprout got to do some errands with him. Got out the “real” camera and took these.

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Pictures from the talented John Stephens

Last night our good friends the Stephens family came over with a yummy dinner. John brought his camera and got these sweet shots of our boy. Figured those of you not on Facebook might want to see them too.

For more of John’s work, check out Iris and Light.

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In which I…

• have quite possibly the easiest labor ever
• a super sweet and picture perfect home birth
• a big sister completely smitten with her new little brother
• faint several times
• have big rescue force guys in my bedroom
• have my first ambulance ride
• spend a morning in the ER
• have a CT scan and a bunch of other tests
• get some pain meds after a hilarious conversation with our backup OB

This is the birth story of the newest little brother to join the Wuertz family.

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So, Friday night I am waiting for Stephen to get home and finally finishing the owl that I started for Sprout a long time ago.

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He was very happy about it. Bean was, as usual right next to me as I finished, pelting me with state-the-obvious questions and touching everything in my knitting basket as I am telling her repeatedly to not touch things. Sprout was handing me books every few seconds, asking me to read them and walking away after I got to the third page.

Somewhere in this chaos of my life I start to realize that I am having some contractions. Nothing too exciting. Nothing I have to breathe through. Nothing regular.

I was kind of the queen of false alarms with the other two kids so I was very prepared for this to be that. However, these contractions were slightly different feeling to me than with the other two. There just seemed to be more pulling and tugging. Nothing I couldn’t manage. Just mostly annoying.

So Stephen got home and because I knew he wasn’t quite ready for this baby to make his/her appearance, I told him what was going on, that I needed a shower and that he should figure out dinner. Things he said that night were quite comical. “OK, what can we have for dinner that will stop labor? Is there any connection there?” He was just so not ready for this baby to come yet. He was definitely counting on me going past my due date like I did with the other two.

The contractions never really picked up a pattern or intensity, but they continued through the night. This had happened with the other kids too. We just kept waiting for them to fizzle. We didn’t think this was the real deal, but Stephen cancelled his plans for a Dodger game with friends just to be safe. Because you never know. Or you both go to bed that night annoyed that nothing happened except more lame piddly contractions that don’t seem to be doing anything.

We woke up the next morning to more of the same. Every now and then I’d have a contraction that was kind of more uncomfortable, but still nothing regular or substantial.

I got up with the kids (Stephen did it the day before), made French toast for breakfast and we got ready for church.

I started having a TMI pregnancy moment in the shower, the good ol’ mucus plug/bloody show. Still I didn’t think it meant much. I lost mine with the other two within a week, but they can regenerate and it really isn’t a good signpost. Real labor still seemed far off.

I had some more intense contractions during church. I think mostly from all the standing. Still, not all of them were similar feeling or having any regularity. I kind of felt like we should be at home, but also decided I didn’t want to be responsible for lunch. So we went to the shopping center we always do for lunch after church and in true American style ordered from three different restaurants.

Contractions started to be more intense during lunch, but maybe it was just all the toddler wrangling we were trying to do. Our kids were both being a tad bit obnoxious that morning.

The plan was for the kids to fall asleep on the way home and take it easy the rest of the afternoon. Stephen really wanted me to take a nap in the hopes that these things would just go away.

Except Bean almost fell asleep, but not quite and nap time was almost ruined. The contractions seemed to be petering out, but then would come on again out of no where. Stephen began making phone calls and just-in-case arrangements. I pleaded with Bean to take a nap. I tried to lay down with her and she was just too wound up. So, I took matters into my own hands and went for a little drive with her. She fell asleep, but by the time I got back Sprout was awake.

We hung out a little bit. Some of my contractions were intense, others were almost non-existent. Sometimes they’d be two minutes apart, sometimes six.

We made dinner together. Stephen grilled corn and squash, I made a huge salad. It was quite the veg feast.

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I started putting Sprout to bed a little early due to his shorter nap. While I was rocking him it seemed like the contractions were more consistent and mostly stronger. Since we still weren’t sure if this was the real deal or not, we decided to chance letting the kids go to bed and sleep through it.

I decided to try and rest, finally, just in case. But things were intense and regular enough that I couldn’t really sleep and decided I should time them. At 8:30pm or so we had a pattern! 1 min long and 6 min apart. I was still totally fine though.

Stephen called the midwife on call just to give her a heads up. She suggested I take a bath and try to relax and get some sleep again that night. So I got into the bath. Stephen went into nesting mode and cleaned our entire downstairs, did all the dishes and got out all the home birth supplies.

I hung out in the bathtub, somewhat in disbelief. I could definitely feel the contractions working and doing things. I had to breath and relax through them when they were happening, but then I was fine. I still expected them to fizzle at any moment. I kept expecting to be so lost in how intense they were that I would need Stephen to come in there and coach me to relax, but that mostly never happened. He would pop in and notice my jaw wasn’t slack enough, but other than that I was fine. I just kept visualizing a circle getting bigger or a drawstring bag opening and then the contraction would be over and I’d be back to thinking, “Really? This is labor? Like really, really?” I was almost laughing to myself.

Then I think my water broke at about 10:50pm. I felt a few gushes over a few contractions, but I couldn’t really see anything since I was in water. I definitely noticed the loss of “my cushion,” and the pickup in frequency, but still things just were not that intense. Stephen called the midwife again. I kept hanging out in the tub.

Just before she arrived I had a couple pretty uncomfortable contractions in the tub. Then I had to go to the bathroom. I did not like having contractions on the toilet. I just wanted to get it over with and get on my bed and start pushing. I heard things and attitude come out of me that sounded just like our daughter in a crabby mood, “Don’t breathe in my face!” when Stephen was coaching me to breathe. “I don’t want to be on the potty!”

I could tell I was almost there. They were so close together that I couldn’t really accomplish things as fast as I wanted to.

After 3 or 4 contractions Stephen finally got me to the bed and I laid on my side. The midwife called and having not yet had her home visit with us, was a little lost in our complex. He went down to find her. I had a couple contractions where I pushed. It was really uncomfortable to push on my side.

I was so glad when they got up there and I could sit up with Stephen behind me. She listened to the heartbeat first and things were good. Another contraction where I pushed. Then our midwife checked me. The head was really close. Another contraction to push. Then she checked again just to make sure I was dilated completely. I was. Pushing was exactly right, she said. She flurried about the room getting various things ready. I had a few contractions that didn’t really feel to me like pushing contractions. Then it was go-time. I think he was out in three or four pushes. The first where his head came out the midwife noticed that he had the cord around his neck and shoulder. She calmly unlooped and then I had him out and our baby was a boy!

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He was born at 12:30pm on July 25, 2011. He was 8lbs 2oz and 20in long.

The next couple hours were kind of a blur of nursing, getting cleaned up, placenta inspection, drinking a lot of juice and a newborn exam. I did feel pretty nauseous when I got up for the first time. I took some homeopaths I have for nausea and our midwife put a cool washcloth on my neck and it went away.

Bean woke up at some point, but didn’t want to come out of her room at first. She started to, but then saw our midwife sitting on our floor working on her charts and retreated back. Around 2:30am we heard her singing in there and Stephen went in and she had finally warmed up to the idea. She was immediately smitten with her new baby brother. She said, “I like this baby, Mama.” She wanted to be right next to him and to me. She called him, “my little [name].” And she was very attentive as our midwife went over the initial recovery instructions.

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Our midwife left at about 3am and we all got snuggled in to go back to sleep with Bean back in her own bed and lights out.

I woke up at about 4:30am in really intense pain from the afterbirth contractions. This was way worse pain than my labor and it didn’t subside at all. The pain was so much so that I felt like I was having hot flashes and I was really nauseous. I got Stephen up. He took the baby and I started throwing up.

Once I finished I wanted to go to the bathroom. I think I was a little too determined and headstrong about this and probably should have laid down a little longer. We made sure I was contracted by massaging my tummy like the midwife said. Then I made my way in. I felt like there was a lot of blood. Then I started to feel like I would pass out. I yelled, “Stephen I don’t feel so good!” twice. Then I heard a whoosh, Stephen screaming and hugging me as my head flopped around, “Lisa come back! You have to wake up! You have to try!” I was coherent enough to remember, “You have to massage my tummy! I need to lay down! Massage my tummy!” Then I passed out again. Another whoosh. Stephen yelling at me to stay with him and talking to a 911 operator. “You have to massage my tummy!” Feeling gushing blood. The 911 operator telling him to get me on the bed and laying flat while massaging my tummy. That the fire department is on the way. Painful tummy massage. Finally feeling alert. Operator saying the baby nursing could also help. Baby in my arms nursing.

Firemen and paramedics in my room clumping around in their big boots (how did our kids sleep through this?) A thousand questions. Realizing I am basically naked (tank top and post-partum undies) and really bloody in front of all these giant men. Legs shaking. Stephen telling them he thinks I had a seizure. Being carried out of the room by two big men on some sort of stair chair contraption. Asking for a blanket because I don’t want my neighbors to see me naked. Being transferred to a gurney.

Nearly crying that after all the perfection we have to go to the hospital. Stephen staying behind.

Clutching our baby in the bumpy ambulance ride with one arm while the paramedic effortlessly starts an IV in my other arm.

A very old-fashioned and abrupt male doctor: “Why did you guys bring the baby? I thought we had you trained better than that. If there’s nothing wrong with the baby, you don’t bring the baby.”
Paramedic 1: “It’s better if the baby stays with mom. He was thirsty.”
Paramedic 2: “Yeah he was parched.”
Doctor: “Alright well now we have to call labor and delivery to get a warmer down here.”
Nurse, as she’s taking my baby: “A baby warmer is better for keeping the baby warm.”

Laying there alone. Wanting to hold my baby. Thinking that I’ve just become the poster child for reasons not to have a homebirth, another statistic for ACOG. Pokes and sticks and tests. More alone. Stephen finally makes it. He immediately asks to hold and remove the little guy from the warmer and then snuggles him. A long hallway ride on a gurney. A CT scan. An EKG.

The abrupt doctor thinks that I fainted and threw up due to the pain. Nothing is wrong with me, I did not have a seizure, my heart is fine, I didn’t even lose and abnormal amount of blood.

About to be discharged. Emergency stroke victim and shift change mean waiting longer. My Advil from just after the birth wears off. Off the chart, unsubsiding pain again. Nurse coming in expecting to take out my IV and get a free bed is distracted and slightly flustered by my new problem.

A call to our backup OB. More waiting. More pain. He arrives. He is hilarious. “This is normal! I can give you some good narcotics! Not heroin, that’s just in the back of some guy’s car. (Stephen claims the joke went, “Not heroin, that’s just after hours.”) You can take four Advil! You can get a shot of Toradol if you want. When I was hit by a car they shot that in my leg…” “You were hit by a car?!?” “Yeah, on my bike. The paramedic shot that in my leg and it felt real good. It’s good stuff. You have an IV! You don’t have to get a shot!”

So I get some Toradol and then a few minutes later I feel like I can relax my legs. I can move. I feel much better. I can even nurse the little one that Stephen has been placating for several hours now. And then finally a wheelchair ride to the car and home. Snuggling my sweet babe on the couch.

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Anyway, we love this little guy. So happy to be home. Thankful nothing was really wrong. Thankful for family that took Bean and Sprout at the last minute so Stephen could go to the hospital. Thankful that I didn’t get seriously injured when I fainted in the bathroom. Thankful that Bean and Sprout slept through the scariest moments. Thankful for friends bringing us dinner tonight. Thankful that I can process things in writing.

P.S. Trying to come up with a blog nickname for this little guy that goes with the other two. Suggestions welcome 🙂

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Full term

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I snapped this pic in the bathroom before church on Sunday. I haven’t really documented this pregnancy in pictures because some comments last go ’round with Sprout have had me feeling really, really self-conscious.

I mean, I know this is what pregnancy does to the body. I know that I am healthy. I know I won’t look like this forever. I know that most people only have nice things to say. I know I really haven’t gained much. I know that I am one of the few people that gets told to eat more during pregnancy and actually struggles with gaining weight. I know I am “all belly” and that if I really wanted to torture myself I could put on a pair of my pre-pregnancy jeans wearing them ultra low with no problems (discounting sitting down). I know all this sounds ridiculous and almost like I am bragging.

But really, all it takes is one negative and hurtful comment about the way you look to make none of the above matter. There is incredible power in words to build up and tear down. Often tearing down is much more easily accomplished.

So anyway we saw one of the midwives yesterday for my 36 week appointment. I have a home visit next week and the week after.

The baby’s heart rate was in the 140s, as usual. I am finally measuring right on and not two weeks ahead. I find this so weird because at my last appointment I lost weight and was measuring two weeks ahead, this time I gained weight and measured right on. Huh?

We discussed concerns about our household’s immune system right now. Stephen in particular has had some lingering congestion from a cold he and the kids got a few weeks ago, he tweaked his back over the weekend and he just kind of feels run down and stressed with work and the craziness at home lately. So my midwife writes him a prescription. Ha!

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She said, “In a homebirth, it isn’t just about mama and baby and how well they are doing. In a homebirth, the family is part of the system as a whole and that entire system needs to be well.” So we are on a mission to relieve Stephen’s stress and build up his immunity.

I was really determined to be patient this time. Just be prepared and ready for the fact that I am very likely to be overdue again and not have the baby until at least a week after my due date. So that would mean probably somewhere around the 16th of August and not the 9th. Then the 36 week mark was right there and my midwives had said that I would be allowed to go into labor as early as really late Monday night and suddenly I am SO not OK with the prospect of at least one more month of pregnancy.

Not impatient enough to chug castor oil or anything dumb like that, just tired and feeling done, done and done.

I still have the end of pregnancy itchies going on too. I have tried a ridiculous amount of stuff only to be mostly left wanting to rip my skin off. Homeopaths, lotions, OTC creams, etc.

I have finally found a couple things that at least cools and calms things down for a little bit.

One is not wearing the belly band from my maternity jeans up over my belly. Ever since all the crazy IV stuff during my pregnancy with Bean I have really struggled with skin irritation and sensitivity to various things. But only during pregnancy, it all seems to go back to normal after that. During pregnancy I am highly sensitive to medical tape. Getting my blood drawn or an IV during this period results in a rash around the area for days and sometimes it spreads to other parts of my body. So annoying. Yesterday one of the midwives thought that it is possible the stretchy material in the band on the maternity jeans could have latex or some other common skin irritant that I may be extra sensitive to since I am pregnant. So I am trying to keep it off my belly as much as possible and just keep most things off the irritated skin. This means I walk around the house a la Homer Simpson much of the time with Bean nagging me to, “Put your shirt down, Mama!”

I also made up a variation on my diaper rash spray after reading about rashes in my homeopathy book that I’ve been spraying on myself whenever I get the urge to scratch. It hasn’t made things look much better, but it does cool it down and seems to keep the itching at bay for a little bit.

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Truth be told, I used to hate marigolds. I just thought they were really ugly cheap flowers. I didn’t understand how anyone could like them or want to plant them. Now that I know a little more about natural gardening and homeopathy, it seems these things are a treasure trove of cures and remedies. I recently made up an insecticide using some of these flowers in my garden that has been working awesome at keeping the bugs from eating my plants. And there seems to be unending uses for them in skin care and wellness.

So anyway my rash spray? In a big tea cup steep a chamomile tea bag and 1-2 marigolds. Strain. Let the liquid cool. Add in a few drops of tea tree oil, lavender oil and sage oil. Pour into a little misting spray bottle. Shake before use and spray the rash area as needed.

Alright, enough pregnancy ramblings for today.

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One month to go, get your predictions in

So we are about one month away from the due date (August 9). Which is an average and knowing me I will go over. Again. Because this is me.

Though my chiropractor claims that chiropractic care can assure a more on time delivery by keeping my pelvis open and my low back from being all out of whack. We had some up close and personal and slightly awkward and uncomfortable specific adjustments this week. Fun times.

My midwives also have me taking this herbal supplement “labor support” stuff which I looked up a lot of the ingredients in my homeopathy book and they are supposed to bring on labor. I’m allowed to have the baby as early at Tuesday, July 12. That would be so awesome. I am so ready to be done. So ready.

I think we are finally somewhat settled on names. I bought all the extra supplies needed for a homebirth including some newborn size gender neutral sleepers, one “little sister” outfit and one “little brother” outfit. Despite already having one boy and girl, most of my baby stuff was given away. Hence the need to buy some clothes and swaddling blankets. My homebirth kit arrived a few weeks ago with the more “medical” items that will be used.

My last boy or girl post, didn’t get much feedback, so I thought I’d throw out there again the chance to predict what we are having.

So here’s a review of all the information you might deem necessary in making your prediction:

-Bean definitely thinks we are having a girl. There was one slightly comical incident involving pink cowboy boots getting passed on if the baby turns out to be a girl, in which she suddenly changed her mind about the gender. But other than that she thinks we are having a girl. Sprout is no help. When I ask him he just says, “No.”

-Hardly any morning sickness this go round. I definitely had an aversion to chicken at first and preparing food. I felt kind of sick, but really didn’t puke ever aside from the food poisoning incident.

-The heartbeats per minute gender prediction is no help as it has been kind of all over the map. Mostly around 140, a few times lower and a few times higher.

-My first ultrasound in the ER, the tech thought we were having a boy, but then decided it was unconfirmed and what he saw was the umbilical cord.

-At the ultrasound appointment with the backup OB he made us close our eyes at the beginning until he knew what he was looking at and could safely navigate away from that area. Then he said, “OK, you can open your eyes. I saw the bbb-ladder. Oh, haha, you guys thought I was going to say ‘boy’ didn’t you?”

-One of my friends was talking on Facebook one day about doing the baking soda gender prediction test and so just for the heck of it I looked it up and did it. It indicated girl.

-Same friend also pointed out the Chinese calendar prediction which is supposed to be 99% accurate, in my case it indicates boy.

-At a wedding a couple months ago another friend was telling me all about how accurate the wedding ring prediction was with several people she knew. That test indicated girl.

-I took this old wives tales test and it was dead even on girl versus boy.

So as you can see, this child is a complete mystery. What do you think? Are we having a boy or a girl? And if you really want to get the most out of your prediction, what do you think baby’s birthday will be? Leave a comment and let me know!

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