Part 2

...knowing I was at a 4, this was my 4th baby, and given my history, I knew I had to hurry because this was going to be over quickly. At that very moment, I heard the garage door open - Dave couldn't have timed that any better even if he tried.
As soon as he came in the house I yelled down the stairs, "my water just broke!" Then bellowed instructions for babysitters, gathering stuff, making sure the boys were all set, etc.
Dave helped me gather things as quickly as possible and I hobbled around nervous and excited with a towel loinclothed (totally a word ;) between my legs. We were out the door in no time.
On the way to the hospital I made all the necessary calls and tried to prep myself mentally. I had decided before I was even pregnant that if my water broke at the beginning of labor, I wanted an epidural. If it didn't, I knew it would be a lot easier for me. If you have recently read my other birth stories (kidding of course), you would know that my water broke at the beginning with Carson and it was my hardest experience and with Brooks my waters were intact until I was at an 8 and it was a fast labor, and by far and away my easiest. I was obviously hoping for the latter, but got the first.
When we got the the hospital and checked in it seemed fairly calm and quiet. It was about 5:00 pm. I can't remember what room they wanted to put me in, but I knew that the hospital had installed a big tub within the last year and all I wanted to do was labor in the water -water and me; we are friends. It REALLY takes the edge off. Anyway, they changed me to room 5 where the tub was. It was at the furthest end of the hall so I hoisted my towel high and waddled down to the end with my sweet husband.
I stood there for a few minutes wondering what to do next. By then at least with my previous babies there had been someone there either wanting me to change or get a hep lock or getting information, or something. This time - Nobody.
After a few minutes someone came in with a gown wanting me to change. I still just wanted to get in the water, but they wanted to monitor me first. Again, they disappeared for a while. I finally got fed up with just sitting there half naked, loinclothed myself again and hobbled back down to the front desk to ask yet again if I could get in the water. They said no and sent me away.
Another stretch later they checked me - I was at a 6, then they wanted to hook me up for 20 minutes to make sure the baby was tolerating the contractions alright. Here's the real kicker. Even though I was sure my water had broken, I didn't have much fluid draining after the initial gush. While I was sitting in the car and on the phone with my dr. I wasn't gushing with each contraction and told her so when she asked. Because of that, she wasn't sure that my water had broken she told the labor and delivery nurses she wanted them to verify that before they admitted me. (Would they really  have turned me away at that point...dilated to a 6 and clearly in labor???)
So there I sat hooked up to monitors while they did some sort of test that involved a q-tip in not so dignified places that then had to be tested and confirmed for amniotic fluid. (With Carson it was a strip of paper they dabbed in the fluid that turned blue if it was positive for amniotic fluid...I still don't get why this process was so much more complicated...). Sure enough, my water was broken, and yet, I still sat - hooked up to stinkin' monitors with very much increasingly painful and closer contractions. I was really having to focus and breathe at this point.
I was feeling pretty frustrated. I couldn't get anyone to come assist us, I was really hurting, I only wanted to get in the water, and I was feeling very much ignored. AND I had been hooked up for much longer than 20 minutes. In this time I expressed to Dave that I wanted an epidural. I didn't want to do what it took to have a natural delivery, nor did I feel like I had it in me at that point...

Bowen's Birth Story Part 1

Wow! It has taken me almost a month to write this and frankly, there are a lot of other things I need to be doing, but I love to journal. Four kids is no joke. How come nobody ever told me how much work a newborn is?! ;)
Sunday July 28th at 38 weeks exactly, I started having contractions. Although I had had contractions all through my third trimester, I could tell these were different and a precursor to labor. They weren't particularly painful, but they were regular at about ten minutes apart. I did something very similar to this with Brooks and it lasted 3-4 days. I had to use the restroom for the zillionth time at the end of church when I discovered I was losing my mucus plug. I was pretty excited about that hoping it meant things would happen sooner than later. Fast forward a number of hours to the middle of the night. The contractions I had continued to feel (and had been able to sleep through) started to intensify just enough that they would wake me up. The timing was such that I couldn't quite fall asleep between them so it made for a long frustrating night. Just before 6 am I decided to go on my usual walk. I called my mom and we chatted and walked - with me taking breaks still every ten minutes or so to breathe through another contraction. When I got home they were actually a little further apart and more bearable.
I went through my morning as normal...same old story with the contractions. I had for sure lost the entirety of my mucus plug by this point though.  I had an OB appointment at noon were she checked me. I was at a 4! Woohoo! My belly had dropped significantly as well - I was measuring 3 centimeters smaller than the previous appointment.  I also had her strip my membranes hoping to speed up the process just a bit. I didn't want to do this for another 4 days. Even before the check/membranes stripping and after witnessing me endure a couple of contractions, my doctor kept saying things like, "I'll be surprised if I don't see you tonight or tomorrow" or "you are definitely ripe!". She also mentioned if I was one centimeter more she would admit me to the hospital right then and there. 
I got home, picked up the boys, chatted with my friend for a bit, and borrowed her birthing ball. By about 2:00 pm the contractions while still a ways apart were getting a lot more uncomfortable. I should mention as well that Dave knew things were moving along but we decided in the morning that he should go to work because I wasn't feeling like I was laboring in earnest yet. He was so cute - he called me every hour or less to make sure I was doing alright and to get a status update.
I tried to take a nap because of the short night I had had previously but they were simply too painful at this point so I simply did my best to get comfortable. Just before 4:00 pm I said a prayer. I asked Heavenly Father to either allow me to sleep so I could get the rest I needed to endure the difficulty of labor when it would come, or to let things happen quickly and be over so I wouldn't have to endure many more sleepless nights. Within five minutes my water broke...

Stackable Boys

Easy to store.

Oh Baby, Bring on the Baby!

I had a 34 week ultrasound which ended up being first thing in the morning on 34 w 5 d. My OB likes to be EXTRA meticulous and text book. She wanted to check:

Position: Head down, facing my left side. I am pretty sure all 4 of my boys have been in this exact position.
Placenta: Looks good, calcification is minimal/average for this point in a pregnancy.
Amniotic Fluid: 9 - what the tech said was average.
Cervix Length: 3.91 cm. Supposed to be between 3 and 5. I don't seem to efface much or dilate till d-day. My cervix is a superstar :).
Estimated Fetal Size: 6 lbs 10 oz.The margin of error is give or take a pound. I have been able to tell that this boy is big and was not surprised in the least to hear my 35 weeker would be 7 lbs. This is just like Carson and Drake. Brooks was my exception and I think is part of the reason I went so much longer with him.
Estimated Due Date: According to the ultrasound 7/31. I have had a couple of big babies and am anticipating going a bit early, but not THAT early. I am going to guess anywhere from 8/3-8/8.

Other interesting stuff: I mentioned to the tech that the 20 week ultrasound technician wouldn't say for sure the gender because "you never really know until they come out".  This tech immediately when on a genitalia search. I should mention she was having a hard time getting a good look because his bum was hiding behind my sternum (no, I can't breathe), but she promptly laughed and said, "yeah, it's a boy". I already knew that but it was nice to have someone else confirm it.
His heart rate was 132 which its been at my last 3 appointments. The other three have always hovered in the 150s. Maybe this baby will be a bit more mellow :).
He appears to have big lips or at least as far as you can tell with a fuzzy black and white picture. They really reminded me of Brooks'.

We really can't wait for him to get here. These next 4-5 weeks are going to draaaag on simply because I am so excited for this little baby. Is it August yet?!?!?

I marked my territory

I think this post may be a testament of my complete lack of dignity. It flew out the window the moment I had kids. While I should be thoroughly embarrassed (and somehow I'm not) by this story, it is one I hope my kids can read and laugh at. Even if they don't - I will.
And so it begins...
On our recent vacation to visit family in Idaho and Utah, Dave and I capitalized on having willing babysitters. My parents watched our boys while we attended the temple together. It was wonderful. We even got to take Ben (my youngest brother) with us. The session was relatively small and was a delightful experience.
Before starting, I quickly used the restroom. (And I thought my bladder was shot after one baby, was sure two had maxed it out, and after three was certain it couldn't get any worse....wrong!). When I stepped into the bathroom I slipped on the floor. I didn't actually fall, but my slip was a big one. I looked around to see if anyone else was having the same kind of problems and that the floors were to blame. It didn't appear so. I continued on my way and through the next couple of hours.
When it was all over, Dave and I walked out arm in arm together, and down the big staircase where we would split and go to our respective locker rooms. The staircase was very wide with many steps but they were quite shallow; just a few inches each. On the third from the bottom step the carpet turned to ice. I didn't misstep, I didn't trip, I didn't do anything I hadn't done on the previous 20, but somehow my feet had absolutely gone out from under me. Try as I may, I could not get my footing, and down I went. Dave bore the majority of my weight (poor soul!!), alas, I landed square on my bum at the bottom of the stairs. It was a soft landing, nothing hurt but that didn't seem to matter to the poor temple worker standing nearby.
"OOOOOOHHHHH! Are you hurt?!?!?!? I think you broke your leg! It looks like your broke it! OH OH OH are you ok?!?!?"
No matter how many times I tried to explain to the woman that I was 100% a-ok, she was not convinced. Apparently one of my legs looked awkward, but I think it was the way my dress draped it more than anything. It continued...
"OOOOHHH you poor soul! Are you SURE you are ok??? Do you need anything? Are you ok??"
Yes, it got old.
At this point I didn't know what to do - this lady needed serious convincing. I didn't dare tell her I was 33 weeks pregnant, that would have been a bad idea and with my dress you really couldn't tell. So I did what any normal (crazy) person would do, I hopped up and took a bow. Then I booked it for the locker room. It wasn't because I was embarrassed. It wasn't because I was hurt. It wasn't because the baby was hurt (remember my knight in shining armor who caught most of my fall). It was solely because I had peed on the carpet. Yes, you read that right. Landing square on my bum was enough to burst the dam. I hiccuped and peed the other day - this circumstance was doomsday. It wasn't a big spot, but that was the carpet... I was another story.
With the slipping and falling, all I could conclude was that my slippers were too "dirty" and needed a good washing. I have had the thought wash them for the past 6 months now but kept forgetting. When I got back to my parents house I washed everything I was wearing....but forgot to throw in the slippers.

XY Chromosomes at their finest

Ok, so family photos aren't really our forte, but when you've got a family this cute, who cares! I love my boys!

Father's Day

Wait, what?! It's not Father's Day yet? Ok, ok I know, but we wanted to celebrate this Sunday because of our schedules and frankly, maybe we will celebrate next Sunday as well. The man of the house is definitely worth celebrating more than once.
I am so proud of the man I married. I know he has a couple of "weaknesses" here and there, but I still find him absolutely perfect. There is no better man to teach and love our children. Dave is an incredible (for lack of better words...they simply don't exist) father. His heart is pure gold. He is one of "those" people who does the right things for the right reasons. He is never selfish, he is never proud, he loves his Heavenly Father and he has charity.
He is a sparkling example to our children. Sometimes I get intimidated and a bit overwhelmed thinking of raising four boys in this horrible world. Then I remember who my partner is, and even further, who he gets all of his strength from, and I know there is no better chance in the world to have success as an eternal family.
Dave is fun. He plays with our children, and not just when it's convenient. They KNOW he loves them. He is patient and wise. He is gentle and kind. He is spontaneous and playful. He is athletic and musical. He is dedicated and loyal. I could honestly go on and on and you would think it's impossible for someone to have every good trait known to man, but I assure it, it is not.
Dave snapped a couple of pictures this morning with the timer on our camera, I will post them first chance I get. My boys are all just so adorable!

Worst Moment To Date

Dave was at the temple tonight and I was enjoying a late dinner with the boys after playing outside with our neighbors and enjoying the ideal weather. Everyone was relaxed and for a small perfect moment, nobody was fighting, and everyone was eating. That was when the retching started. I looked up to find Carson unable to breathe, throw-up, or swallow. I immediately grabbed the container in front of me hoping he would vomit in it and relieve the problem.
"Are you choking?" I blurted out.
He gave me a quick nod. It seemed dire. He was panicked and silently sobbing. I felt the same but knew I had to keep it together.
"Do I need to call 911?"
He shook his head.
I started thumping pretty hard on his back. Carson did. not. like. that. He made it clear he wanted me to stop, but frankly, I would have cracked a rib or two if it would have made the difference between losing him or not.
It was an intense 30 seconds or so. Nothing seemed to be moving in or out, up or down. I don't know what made the difference or how it became dislodged but  finally, Carson started to cough and cry. I loved hearing his cry as a baby, but that was nothing compared to this. He was scared, but he was ok.
"What happened?" I asked Carson while I practically hugged him into another choking session.
"I tried to swallow a grape without chewing it," he told me.
I don't even know why I asked, I didn't care what it was, how it happened, etc. I was just so grateful he was alive. 
 After a lot of hugging, and a quick discussion about how we were grateful Heavenly Father saved Carson we were back to our perfect evening except for the fact that I myself might have suffered permanent heart damage from the episode. Talk about a reality check. I hate that it sometimes takes situations like this to slap me across the face to remind me what really matters, but I love the renewed perspective and love that I feel. I am seriously, and so very blessed. I have the most amazing husband and children and especially tonight - I love my Carson. 

Brooks Turns 2

Where has the time gone?? Time has steamrolled me and all of the sudden "the baby" is 2! As a testament to that, I should mention that we don't even call Brooks by his name most of the time, is is usually "the baby". I subbed Carson's primary class today and he even told a story about "my baby"...not the one in mommy's tummy.

Some things I want to remember about Brooks:
-The boy is nobody's puppet. If it matters to him; he WILL get his way.
- He doesn't have quite the vocabulary at 2 that the older two did. He is learning to talk though and some of his favorite phrases or words are:
"Woah-wuh" (Dora). He also loves to sing the song.
"Ah guck" (I'm stuck)
"Saw-sun" (Carson)
"Gake" (Drake)
"Buppy - Bears" (Puppy - Bears) - his stuffed animals
"Books" (Brooks)
- He is a momma's boy. My only one.
-He can count to ten and likes to sing the ABC's
- He is my pickiest eater by far
- He has all but his last 2-year-molar, and he has struggled cutting each and every one
- He has a cute, bouncy little run. It is more vertical than horizontal, and I love it!
- He loves to jump and can do so off of two feet and get air under each of them
- He is still very average in size. Maybe a little on the tall side, but still pretty thin
- He LOVES baths
- Some of his favorite things are: trains, "panes" (planes), and mimicking what everyone else is saying
- He picks on Drake. But he also loves Drake and loves to play with him
- He likes to go to bed on his own schedule. It is usually around 7 pm, and he will ask you to pick him up and tell you "nigh-night" meaning, I want to go to bed right now.

It's been a busy couple of years, but I don't really remember life without him. Brooks is definitely meant to be in our family and makes us all happy. We are so blessed.

More Camping Pics

I love what a good daddy Dave is. Truly, the best. The boys had the time of their lives simply because they were with Dave.