Birthing Again

The last time I tried this, things could have gone better.  This time was nothing short of a dream come true.
This time, I went to Austin Area Birthing Center instead of a hospital.  My checkups were comfortable and laid back.  They never kept me waiting, never required me to wear a paper gown, and didn't routinely perform unnecessary tests.  They didn't accidentally reveal the gender of our baby, and they didn't lie to us about what would and would not be allowed during labor.  At the birthing center, I met all the midwives and attended no fewer than three prenatal yoga classes every week.  I scheduled five prenatal massages with my amazing doula, Lacreshia Laningham, and towards the end of the pregnancy, I started going to a wonderful acupuncturist, Melissa Light.  I was as pampered and happy as a pregnant lady could possibly be.
At 12:50 on Monday night, my water broke as I was sleeping.  I started having mild contractions, which quickly progressed to 90-second contractions every 15 minutes.  I slept in between them until morning.  We texted Lacreshia at daybreak and called the birthing center around 9:30.  Unsure of how labor would progress, we set up an appointment to test the amniotic fluid a few hours later.  By 11:00, contractions were every 10 minutes, and by 11:30, they were every 4.
When I arrived to the birthing center at noon, Midwife Meg Rodenbusch admitted me into the art studio birthing suite.  I had dilated to 6 cm, and I got into an enormous beautiful tub right away.  Contractions continued to progress fairly rapidly.  Lacreshia was by my side pressing cold cloths onto my forehead and keeping a floatation device in place as I passed out between contractions.  George was in the tub with me.  When I opened my eyes, I only saw the faces of people I trusted.
Before very long, I was ready to push.  The midwives checked me, and although I wasn't fully dilated, they encouraged me to push if it felt right.  It wasn't long before Drakeson and Mom entered the room to welcome my sweet daughter.  She arrived facing up, blinking at all of us from under the water before the final push.  George caught her, and she was placed on my skin with a towel around her little body at 1:54 pm.  In these moments of joy, George and I forgot to check her gender.  It was the most magical birthing experience I could possibly imagine.

Newborn

My Angels

Volkert Book

In honor of our piano turning 100, I threw a party in which I performed my grandmother's repertoire.  During the recital, our guests followed an insert in the program notes and helped create a book for the new baby.  Now Millicent has a present to match Drakeson's alphabet book.  Many thanks to all who contributed!

Baby Announcements

I posted my baby announcements on their blog, http://www.drakesonandmillicent.blogspot.com/, but thought I'd include links from here too.  I love my babies.

Millicent

Drakeson

Pumpkin Baby

In 2012, George painted the Grinch on my belly.

Here's our follow up for 2015.

Pregnancy 2015

Pregnant

I'm hardly ever aware of when I'm being crazy, but sometimes it's so obvious that I'm not only aware, but also thoroughly disgusted.

George, my sweet sweet husband, is amazing.  For my birthday, he booked a sitter and bought us tickets to see the touring Broadway production of The Little Mermaid.  I've always loved the movie, but I really fell in love with The Little Mermaid in a disturbingly obsessive way after Drakeson did at Disney World this past July.  I had been looking forward to our date on October 3rd since my birthday in mid-August.  George and I arrived at Bass Concert Hall on time, Drakeson was perfectly happy at home in very good hands, and everything should have been perfect.  But it wasn't.

We had found ourselves in sea of 3-year-old mermaids and their loving parents.  Kids.  Booster seats.  Babies.  Criers.  And none of them loved the story as much as Drakeson.  Of course, the only reason Drakeson wasn't there was that we had no idea toddlers were permitted, but nevertheless, I felt like the only jerk mom in the whole building, and in a wash of hormones, I cried.  During my wonderful date with my handsome husband watching a Broadway musical I had been so excited to see, I cried in public several times.  During intermission, I bought an Ursula doll for Drakeson, and that eased my guilt enough to make it through the second half of the show.  But it would be a lie to claim that everything had been set right.

The next evening was the last showing in Austin.  In what can only be described as very poor financial management skills or pure insanity, we bought three tickets.  Drakeson loved it.