Marlee and Me

"I love you like a hundred kisses". These words are written by the small daughter of a friend of mine and I thought they summed up my thoughts and feelings of the last few days in a few picturesque words.

There are not words to describe the waves of emotion that roll over you when you hold your baby for the first time, and the second time and the third time. The feel of those soft cheeks when they turn to you when you kiss them. The smell of that downy soft hair. The feel of that tiny, fragile body curled up into a tiny pink bundle. An absolute miracle.

Two weeks ago I went to my scheduled ultrasound and checkup halfway expecting to be sent over to labor and delivery to be induced. The ultrasound was to check my amniotic fluid levels because I had very low fluid with Kaylen. Low fluid can be very dangerous and unhealthy for an unborn baby. My fluid was low, but not so low they wanted to induce, so I was sent over to get two liters of fluid injected by IV and then sent home with strict instructions to drink as much as I could and to take it easy for the next few weeks. I did my best.

Last Friday I had another ultrasound to check levels and although they had gone up briefly after the IV, they were back down again at a below normal range. The doctor wanted to induce me and although I really wanted to go into labor on my own, we came to the conclusion that it would be safer and smarter to go ahead and have the baby while we knew how much fluid there was rather than waiting until later when the fluid would be even lower and risk complications. So, it was set for Monday April 16.

I was positive I was having a boy. Even though we had never seen on an ultrasound what it was, I felt sure the entire time I was pregnant it was a boy. I knew Jacob was going to be a boy, I knew Kaylen was going to be a girl and I knew this last one would be a boy. So confident that I only washed boy clothes, bought a few new boy things and even though I tossed a pink onesie in my hospital bag, I had two outfits for a boy. And a blue hat.

Monday morning dawned. We went to the hospital at 7:30, got checked right in, settled in bed and by 9:30 had a first dose of medicine to help my body begin to go into labor. It worked and I had mild, regular contractions for several hours. Around 1 they started pitocin, the medicine that ramps up contractions and really gets things moving. I didn't want to get my epidural too early, but I knew it would take some time for it to arrive, so around 4 I was getting fairly uncomfortable and we called for it. In a short time I was really getting miserable and the anesthesiologist was called to two different emergencies and would be an additional 30 minutes before he would get there. Oh boy, I thought. Great. The nurse got me something that she put in my IV, I don't remember what it was, and it didn't make the pain go away, but it took the edge off me and I was able to relax for a few minutes until it wore off. By the time the anethesiologist got there, I was at the point where I couldn't open my eyes, move or speak during a contraction and they were really hard and intense. He did his thing and I laid there and prayed - with my eyes closed because I really could not open them- for some relief. It should have taken 20 minutes for me to feel better but nothing happened and I was getting a little..ummm loud. I really didn't mean to make noise, but there are times when it is beyond human control and this was one of them. They called the poor guy back and he offered to do it a second time. Of course, I couldn't open my eyes, speak or move because I was dying (or so I thought) but I think I managed to at least nod my head. Sitting up was the best feeling ever. By this time I felt like I really wanted to push and they were doing everything they could to keep me calm. I was 8 cm. I know I was getting really loud by this time, but I have never in my life experienced pain like this. The urge to push was almost beyond my power to stop and the poor nurse was trying to tell me to slow down and breathe. Poor thing, I think I might have screamed in her face, not sure. Finally, they let me push and I was so glad. It took about 4 cycles of three sets of pushes, an epesiotomy and my eyeballs nearly popping out and Marlee made her appearance. And in an instant, I was pain free.

It's a girl?!?! I was so surprised! How on earth could I have been wrong? I even asked Tony if he looked and verified for himself that it really was, in fact, a female. Yes, he assured me, it was.

I was so happy to have my healthy, happy, pink baby girl here! My husband was my hero and champion during the whole labor process and the ladies who helped me to get Marlee here really deserve medals. They do. And a hearing exam. I really am sorry I was so loud.

Because I was so sure we were having a boy, we really didn't have a girl name ready to go. It took us some time to be sure, but finally we knew our new girl couldn't be anybody but Marlee Lane Smith.

She was 7 lbs 5 oz, 20.5 inches long, born at 6:51pm and has looong fingers and toes like her mama and lots of dark hair just like her brother and sister had when they were born. She is the picture of contentment, not even crying during her first bath. She is also a bottomless pit and makes the cutest little squeaky noises. In fact, Tony just brought her to me and she squeaked and it was so cute I had to kiss her twelve times.

Our first night together, since we were up for most of it, I just thanked God over and over that I could have babies, that they were healthy, that they were whole, that I was allowed to be their mommy.

My little baby, my middle baby and my oldest baby: I love you like a hundred kisses.