Holy smokes! I don't even remember how to blog anymore because it's been so long. Seriously. That was a long hiatus. (can anybody give me a refresher on how to do this please?) But anywho, I now have a family of 4!! The addition of Benton has been overwhelmingly amazing in so many ways, so I'd thought it would be a good place to break the super thick ice I've created for myself and get this blog up and running again. So let's get to it, shall we?
My doctor was nervous for me to be so far away from a hospital, considering I delivered Laikyn so quickly. She also took into account that one of my sisters had her baby in the car ... and another had her baby on the floor ... in her hallway... So ya, they said it would be best to induce me again. At first they offered to induce me a week early, but as tempting as it was, it just didn't feel right. Instead Mark and I selfishly chose October the 9th because it fit our schedule the best, and so the 9th it was! But let me back up to the 8th for a minute ... actually, let me back up even further than that.
Throughout the last few weeks of me being pregnant I started to get super nervous and to be honest, I was a little sad. Okay, I was a lot sad. I'm sure you are wondering why. Of course pregnancy hormones played a role. (I'd like to think they played a major role, but I sort of doubt it.) I also wasn't sleeping very well at nights because little Ben decided that he would rather sleep in my boney rib cage than my great and spacious stomach. I'm sure that was comfy. I know it was for me ... So the point I'm trying to get at is lack of sleep was definitely taking it's toll on me. But, to be honest, I was just really sad and scared for Laikyn and I. We had become best friends. I know it sounds weird to be best friends with a 2-year-old, but when you spend all day with them, it's kind of inevitable. And I loved every minute of it! I'm sure all you moms out there can relate.
Thinking of adding another child to the mix sort of broke my heart. (I know, how mean am I?) But Laikes and I spent so much time together doing whatever we wanted, whenever we wanted. Life was so easy for us, and I knew that would change as soon as the new babe was born. And it did. Whenever I would talk to mom's of two they would always reassure me that it just worked out and that you love them both the same. I heard the classic line, "Your love only multiplies; it doesn't divide." And I knew they weren't lying, I just wasn't sure if it would be the same for me. But I'm running off on a tangent. (If you're interested I'll give you the exact details in a different post later of what I thought about each child after Ben was born because maybe it will help other moms out there in their transition from 1 to 2.)
So let's get back on track. The night before Ben was born Mark and I drove into Lethbridge to sleep over because when you get induced you need to check in early and we didn't want to make the long drive in the morning. (thanks Rob and Air!) And since we couldn't have Laiky with us all day, we had to drop her off at her Gma and Gpa Olsens' house for her to sleep over the night before, which was really nice of them too. But dropping her off/leaving her that night was one of the hardest things I've had to do in a long time. I'm pretty sure I cried harder that night than she has ever even cried in her whole entire life! No joke -- I literally sobbed my eyes out. It just seemed so symbolic of what was to come: I was leaving her behind. Slightly dramatic, I know. But it's what I thought.
Trying to sleep that night was brutal, only because my anxiety levels were higher than a kid trying to sleep on Christmas Eve. When you know what your body is about to go through, you get a little scared. But because I was excited to meet my little guy, I checked in at the hospital that morning anyway despite my contemplation of not showing up at all. So when I got there my doctor checked me and said I was already at a 4 and because of that she decided to break my water instead of giving me the gel to see if I could go naturally after that. So she brought out the good ol' crochet hook, we heard the pop (I felt the pop), and we waited and ... nothing ... no water came out. And then when you hear the doctor say "Oh, that's weird," you sort of start to panic inside a little bit. (with Laikyn I had HUGE amounts of water and so this was out of the ordinary for me.) You could tell my nurse was a little worried about it, but she stayed positive and just encouraged me to go walk around a while to see if I could get any of the fluid out myself. I guess the more water you get out, the more your body acknowledges that you're in labour?? It made sense to me, so I took her advice and began walking around. Once I had made the loop around the hospital a couple times I started to get bored so we decided to venture outside a little -- hospital gown and all. (thank goodness for nice weather in October!) People just chuckled as they saw me. Some ladies looked on with empathy while others looked on sort of mockingly. Like, are you serious? Do you realize you look ridiculous? ha. I didn't care. You lose all of your dignity while you're in labour (and it's a dang good thing too!)
Time was passing, water wasn't coming out, my contractions still weren't consistent, and my nerves were escalating. I had heard horrible things about 'the drip' and how it amplifies the pain by basically a thousand and obviously I didn't want that. I was also nervous that maybe my body wasn't quite ready yet for labour and since they already had broken my water I would now have to have a C-section. I didn't want that either. So I did what I always do when I can't think of a solution any way else and when I need some peace and comfort -- I asked Mark to give me a priesthood blessing.
It was hard finding the most respectful spot for such a sacred thing while being outside. We ended up finding one that seemed to work the best, and it was such a relief! But to do my part and aid the process along I started making Mark hold my hand to drag me along the path a little more swiftly. (No, I didn't have enough willpower to pick up the pace myself. And yes, I know that's a little pathetic.) We also did a few flights of stairs and believe it or not, I even went skipping down the sidewalk for a brief moment. I'm sure somebody got a kick outta that! ha. But all of it was working for us: the blessing, the stairs, the skipping, everything.
By about 11 30 my contractions were now consistently 5 minutes apart. They weren't so unbearable yet. By 12 o'clock they were down to 4 minutes. At around 12 30 they were down to 3. And between 12 30 and 1 they were about 2 minutes apart now and I was in a lot of pain. Like crippling pain. On the classic 'pain scale', I was about a 9, I'd say. Good thing the Jays game was on in the hallway to distract me a little #wethenorth #jumpedonthatbandwagon. Anywho! When I went back to my room at 1 pm my doctor was there and they told me that I was at about 5-6 cm now. (I thought from the pain I was in I was at least an 8! ugh.) But before I could get too discouraged about my slow progress, my mother (who had also just shown up at that point and had heard the news from the doc) said, Well, if she's anything like me, in the next half hour we're going to be meeting this baby!
Say whaaatt? Holy smokes! Only a half hour more? I wasn't ready for this! But she was right. Almost. Benton Mark Olsen was born at 1:37 pm, just a short 37 minutes later. The last half hour was something else. I don't even have the words to describe it other than to wonder why it's called 'natural birth' because it really doesn't seem all that natural to me ... but irregardless, the delivery went perfect! I didn't even tear and my baby was healthy. The doc and the nurse said I pushed him out with two pushes, even though I'm prettttty sure it was more. But really, what more could you want? The only hiccup along the way was a slight hemorrhage afterwards. They said it'll get worse with each child and so I'll probably need to have a blood transfusion next time. (thank goodness for blood donors and hospitals! go donate, people) Plus, my after pains were so excruciating that I couldn't even talk to the pediatrician when he came in (sorry Dr. Roberts). I'm not kidding, they felt as bad as labour. But in hindsight, who really cares? My baby boy was perfect and that's all that mattered.
Benton Mark Olsen. Born at 1:37. 7 lbs 8 oz. 20 inches long.
My doctor was nervous for me to be so far away from a hospital, considering I delivered Laikyn so quickly. She also took into account that one of my sisters had her baby in the car ... and another had her baby on the floor ... in her hallway... So ya, they said it would be best to induce me again. At first they offered to induce me a week early, but as tempting as it was, it just didn't feel right. Instead Mark and I selfishly chose October the 9th because it fit our schedule the best, and so the 9th it was! But let me back up to the 8th for a minute ... actually, let me back up even further than that.
Throughout the last few weeks of me being pregnant I started to get super nervous and to be honest, I was a little sad. Okay, I was a lot sad. I'm sure you are wondering why. Of course pregnancy hormones played a role. (I'd like to think they played a major role, but I sort of doubt it.) I also wasn't sleeping very well at nights because little Ben decided that he would rather sleep in my boney rib cage than my great and spacious stomach. I'm sure that was comfy. I know it was for me ... So the point I'm trying to get at is lack of sleep was definitely taking it's toll on me. But, to be honest, I was just really sad and scared for Laikyn and I. We had become best friends. I know it sounds weird to be best friends with a 2-year-old, but when you spend all day with them, it's kind of inevitable. And I loved every minute of it! I'm sure all you moms out there can relate.
Thinking of adding another child to the mix sort of broke my heart. (I know, how mean am I?) But Laikes and I spent so much time together doing whatever we wanted, whenever we wanted. Life was so easy for us, and I knew that would change as soon as the new babe was born. And it did. Whenever I would talk to mom's of two they would always reassure me that it just worked out and that you love them both the same. I heard the classic line, "Your love only multiplies; it doesn't divide." And I knew they weren't lying, I just wasn't sure if it would be the same for me. But I'm running off on a tangent. (If you're interested I'll give you the exact details in a different post later of what I thought about each child after Ben was born because maybe it will help other moms out there in their transition from 1 to 2.)
So let's get back on track. The night before Ben was born Mark and I drove into Lethbridge to sleep over because when you get induced you need to check in early and we didn't want to make the long drive in the morning. (thanks Rob and Air!) And since we couldn't have Laiky with us all day, we had to drop her off at her Gma and Gpa Olsens' house for her to sleep over the night before, which was really nice of them too. But dropping her off/leaving her that night was one of the hardest things I've had to do in a long time. I'm pretty sure I cried harder that night than she has ever even cried in her whole entire life! No joke -- I literally sobbed my eyes out. It just seemed so symbolic of what was to come: I was leaving her behind. Slightly dramatic, I know. But it's what I thought.
Trying to sleep that night was brutal, only because my anxiety levels were higher than a kid trying to sleep on Christmas Eve. When you know what your body is about to go through, you get a little scared. But because I was excited to meet my little guy, I checked in at the hospital that morning anyway despite my contemplation of not showing up at all. So when I got there my doctor checked me and said I was already at a 4 and because of that she decided to break my water instead of giving me the gel to see if I could go naturally after that. So she brought out the good ol' crochet hook, we heard the pop (I felt the pop), and we waited and ... nothing ... no water came out. And then when you hear the doctor say "Oh, that's weird," you sort of start to panic inside a little bit. (with Laikyn I had HUGE amounts of water and so this was out of the ordinary for me.) You could tell my nurse was a little worried about it, but she stayed positive and just encouraged me to go walk around a while to see if I could get any of the fluid out myself. I guess the more water you get out, the more your body acknowledges that you're in labour?? It made sense to me, so I took her advice and began walking around. Once I had made the loop around the hospital a couple times I started to get bored so we decided to venture outside a little -- hospital gown and all. (thank goodness for nice weather in October!) People just chuckled as they saw me. Some ladies looked on with empathy while others looked on sort of mockingly. Like, are you serious? Do you realize you look ridiculous? ha. I didn't care. You lose all of your dignity while you're in labour (and it's a dang good thing too!)
Time was passing, water wasn't coming out, my contractions still weren't consistent, and my nerves were escalating. I had heard horrible things about 'the drip' and how it amplifies the pain by basically a thousand and obviously I didn't want that. I was also nervous that maybe my body wasn't quite ready yet for labour and since they already had broken my water I would now have to have a C-section. I didn't want that either. So I did what I always do when I can't think of a solution any way else and when I need some peace and comfort -- I asked Mark to give me a priesthood blessing.
It was hard finding the most respectful spot for such a sacred thing while being outside. We ended up finding one that seemed to work the best, and it was such a relief! But to do my part and aid the process along I started making Mark hold my hand to drag me along the path a little more swiftly. (No, I didn't have enough willpower to pick up the pace myself. And yes, I know that's a little pathetic.) We also did a few flights of stairs and believe it or not, I even went skipping down the sidewalk for a brief moment. I'm sure somebody got a kick outta that! ha. But all of it was working for us: the blessing, the stairs, the skipping, everything.
By about 11 30 my contractions were now consistently 5 minutes apart. They weren't so unbearable yet. By 12 o'clock they were down to 4 minutes. At around 12 30 they were down to 3. And between 12 30 and 1 they were about 2 minutes apart now and I was in a lot of pain. Like crippling pain. On the classic 'pain scale', I was about a 9, I'd say. Good thing the Jays game was on in the hallway to distract me a little #wethenorth #jumpedonthatbandwagon. Anywho! When I went back to my room at 1 pm my doctor was there and they told me that I was at about 5-6 cm now. (I thought from the pain I was in I was at least an 8! ugh.) But before I could get too discouraged about my slow progress, my mother (who had also just shown up at that point and had heard the news from the doc) said, Well, if she's anything like me, in the next half hour we're going to be meeting this baby!
Say whaaatt? Holy smokes! Only a half hour more? I wasn't ready for this! But she was right. Almost. Benton Mark Olsen was born at 1:37 pm, just a short 37 minutes later. The last half hour was something else. I don't even have the words to describe it other than to wonder why it's called 'natural birth' because it really doesn't seem all that natural to me ... but irregardless, the delivery went perfect! I didn't even tear and my baby was healthy. The doc and the nurse said I pushed him out with two pushes, even though I'm prettttty sure it was more. But really, what more could you want? The only hiccup along the way was a slight hemorrhage afterwards. They said it'll get worse with each child and so I'll probably need to have a blood transfusion next time. (thank goodness for blood donors and hospitals! go donate, people) Plus, my after pains were so excruciating that I couldn't even talk to the pediatrician when he came in (sorry Dr. Roberts). I'm not kidding, they felt as bad as labour. But in hindsight, who really cares? My baby boy was perfect and that's all that mattered.
I love reading blogs! Now you are conquering the two kid world
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