My Children Are Teaching Me About Love

James is one of the sweetest and most easy going toddlers I have ever had the opportunity to know. So I was pretty nervous about his little brother arriving. I had seen and heard too many times about a sibling arriving and the older one gets jealous and acts out. I didn't want to see my sweet, tenderhearted boy, turn into a jealous or aggressive child.

In preparation for Connor's arrival, I researched how to make the transition easier. I bought a Thomas the Train Pillow that would be a gift from baby Connor when James came to meet him at the hospital. I bought big brother books, and I constantly talking about Connor, and James being a big brother. I constantly talked to James about Connor's room, and Connor's things. It was as if Connor was already a part of the family, he just wasn't physically there yet.

But James is only two, so still I worried. Worried that it wouldn't be enough, worried that Connor would arrive and James would be angry or sad about this little person intruding into his life. I worried that James would act out seeing another baby getting so much of 'his' mommy's attention. My anxiety over this issue was about as high as the anxiety of being a new parent was the first time.

So you can imagine my surprise, and my joy, when James immediately accepted Connor. It was as if Connor had always been there. He looked at his baby brother, and simply goes, "It's baby Connie!"

Over the past 3 weeks, don't get me wrong we've had a few moments where James got upset or acted out a little, but it wasn't about Connor--it was about mommy. Mommy not having as much time for James has been the only thing he struggled with. Almost daily I find James looking down at his baby brother, and I hear his little voice say, "I love you baby Connie." To see James then bend his little head and kiss his brother's forehead. It's something that warms my heart and soul. I worried so much about how James would accept this new little person into his life, and here James more than accepted him--but already loves him.

He loves to help when it comes to Connor, he brings Connor binkies, he throws away diapers or grabs blankets. And when Connor is fussy, I'll find James over at the Rock N Play, rocking his brother, telling him, "It's okay, Connie, it's okay."

The capacity a child has to love, should teach everyone a little something about love. To love so unconditionally, to look down at something that intruded into your life, but to love it anyways.

Then there's Connor himself. To arrive into the world, this big, cold and noisy world, and to look into the eyes of a stranger. But those eyes aren't too strange, they're also familiar. As if he gazed into them in another life. He looks into those eyes, and he trusts that person with his life. Trusts that person to take care of him completely. That is love. Love at first sight.

My children are teaching me about love, each one in a different way. It's a beautiful experience.

Welcoming Baby Connor

I am so excited to share the story of our journey to bring baby Connor into the world. I can honestly say it was a lot different experience than when I was in labor with James. With James I was terrified, I didn't know what to expect as far as labor, or pain, or even how it would all play out. Obviously, you end up with the baby, but I was completely unprepared for everythingin between 

With James I had a movie-like indicator that I was in labor, my water broke, and off to the hospital we went. But with him, after my water broke, two hours later I had not started contracting. So I was induced. My labor with James was hard, painful, and also traumatic. I came away from it with a beautiful baby boy, but I also came away with fear. Fear of medicine to relieve labor pain. I had gotten an epidural towards the end of my labor with James, and it nearly landed us both in the OR for an emergency cesarean. Luckily I had been ready to push, so we narrowly dodged that outcome. But it was terrifying that we had come that close.

Because of that, I wanted to approach my labor with Connor naturally, I wanted to do it without any pain management help.

At about 8:00 PM on the 9th of October I started having contractions, I had been contracting all day, but they had only been uncomfortable. Josh had gone to class like it was a normal Wednesday, and I had been hanging out at home with James. James and I watched cartoons and had dinner, it was just another night. I was certain labor would allude me for days to come, so when the contractions started getting painful enough at 8:00 that I felt maybe I should start timing them, I still wasn't convinced I was in labor. 

Josh got home from class and we started preparing for the next day, like it was any other day. But after an hour, I started to feel like we needed to call his parents. I was having to breathe through the contractions and they were about 4 minutes apart.

After talking to his parents, the contractions continued to get closer together and more intense. But still, I wasn't convinced it was labor. By the time Josh's parents were on the road to our house, my contractions were running about 2 to 3 minutes apart. I knew we'd be going in to the hospital that night, but I still wasn't convinced "it was time."

Josh was texting his mom as we got things ready to go, and about a half hour before Josh's parents could arrive, we realized we needed to head to the hospital right away. Not wanting to wake James up and have to take him with us, we had a friend of ours rush over to our house to hang out until Josh's parents arrived.

By the time our friend arrived, I could barely talk through my contractions, and I certainly couldn't walk through them. We made it to SAMMC in record time, even though I know Josh was trying not to speed. Once we got to the hospital we headed up to labor and delivery, I had called ahead so they were expecting us. By this point I was sure it was labor, braxton hicks certainly don't hurt like that! 

We got into triage, only to discover that my cervix was unchanged from earlier that morning when I had been checked at my OB appointment. I was discouraged, certainly I was in labor, the contractions were consistent and they hurt! Luckily, my contractions were consistent enough that the Doctor didn't want us to go home, but she couldn't admit me yet because I wasn't in what they considered "active labor" yet.

They sent us to walk the hospital for two hours, told us to come back after two hours and if I had made enough change they would admit me. So we walked, very slowly, lots of stops for me to lean against josh and breathe through a contraction. We did several sets of stairs. I was determined, they were not going to send us home! There was no way in hell I was going to let them send us home. That baby was coming out.

We walked, and walked, and it was the longest hour and a half of my life! By the time we reached an hour and a half I couldn't do much walking any more, so we decided to go back to Labor and Delivery earlier than the 2 hour mark.

The walk back to triage was incredibly slow, the receptionist who was escorting us kept asking if we wanted a wheelchair. I told her no, I would make it, and the walking was certainly going to be good. Not to mention, I hate wheelchairs.

We got back into triage and I took a moment to go try to use the restroom. Locked in there alone I lost it, I just cried. I didn't want to go home, I wanted it to be time. After collecting myself I got hooked back up to the monitors, baby still looked great, and that was comforting. But I was very nervous about what the doctor would say. If I hadn't made enough change they were going to send me walking again, or worse...send us home. 

The doctor came in and checked me. I had gone from 3 centimeters and 50% thinned, to 5 centimeters and 90% thinned! I had changed to exactly where the doctor had wanted me to be. When the doctor looked at me and told me I would be admitted, I cried. I just started crying. It was finally time, I was going to meet my baby!

They got us moved to my labor room, got me hooked back up to the monitors, my IV put in, and of course they started asking me a billion protocol questions, signing papers, all while I was trying to breathe through contractions. It was a very slow process... haha

I was a little disappointed, once again I was being confined to bed, just like I was when I was in labor with James. I knew this would make the labor longer, I wouldn't have gravity on my side to help bring the baby down. But you can't argue much with a military hospital, and I understood their reasoning to want to keep baby on the monitor.

So I was actually in labor, it was actually time to put in the hard work to meet our son. But I was miserable. I was trying my hardest to manage the pain on my own, I was trying to breathe breathe breathe, I was trying to distract myself. I had wanted to do it naturally, I had told myself I was going to do it naturally no matter what. But as I sat there trying to answer questions the nurse was asking me, squeezing the life out of my husbands hand, I realized I didn't want to do it that way. I didn't want to be in that much pain, I couldn't do it. My pain tolerance isn't that great, I wasn't even close to being done with labor and I was already at my maximum tolerance for pain.

Terrified, I looked to my husband for support. He knew my fear about an epidural, he knew thats the only reason I wanted to do a natural birth. I didn't want a natural birth because it was natural and empowering, I wanted a natural birth because I was terrified the epidural would do what it did last time... Drop my heart rate and the babies to the point where our lives were in danger.

The anesthesiologist had come in earlier and I had signed for the epidural just in case. After talking to Josh, admitting I couldn't do this naturally, admitting I wanted something to manage the pain, after being reassured by both Josh and his mom...I asked for the anesthesiologist to come back in. I told him I wanted to try the epidural again, but I told him what happened last time. I told him of my fears. He was confident though, confident that we could do the epidural and avoid the same situation that happened last time. He soothed some of my fears, but I was still a little leery. 

So I got the epidural, the anesthesiologist did a phenomenal job. He started it out ridiculously low, and we slowly increased it until I was pain free. All the while they watched my heart rate and baby's heart rate very closely. By the time my pain was gone, everything still looked beautiful. And I was so relieved, my pain was gone and baby and I were still okay.

Unfortunately I wasn't progressing on my own, so the doctor decided to break my bag of water to see if we could get things moving again. That did the trick, and after several rotations (turning me side to side) we were able to work the baby down. The next time the doctor came in to check me, I was complete. Conveniently enough though, this was right as the night shift was changing to the day shift. So we waited and waited for the next doctor to come in so I could push. The nurse told me to let her know if I started feeling any pressure. Well I was feeling pressure alright, and I told her, a little bit later I told her there was more. I was feeling the pressure even through my epidural. 

By the time the midwife arrived to see where baby was at, it was time, Connor was right there. They didn't have me sit up, I was laying there, but it was comfortable. The midwife told me to try pushing, so I did. After my second push, all the nurses and the midwife were shouting, "stop pushing, stop pushing: as they rushed to get out the tarp to catch baby. Connor was in quite a hurry to arrive. Two more pushes and he was out, screaming and wide eyed. I only pushed for 3 minutes, although technically my pushing did very little. The little guy was so anxious to arrive that he did most of the work.

He was finally there, screaming and beautiful. I held him against my chest, and I cried. He was perfect, and I was the happiest mama in the world. 

My birth experience this time was so beautiful, so wonderful. I would definitely say it was healing, It healed the trauma from my first birth, it empowered me, and I couldn't be happier with how it went. 

Natural births are beautiful, and I admire the women who manage them. A natural birth just wasn't something I could do, but I loved that even my pain managed birth could be just as empowering and beautiful. 

With love and light we are so happy to have our Connor finally here. Arriving at 7:57 AM on October 10th, weighing about 7lbs 11oz (we don't think that weight was entirely accurate as far as the ounces, but thats what their scale said), and reaching 19 inches in length. He is perfect <3

My Two Sons

I had the sudden urge to write a blog post today, it's been nearly a year since I last posted something. But today's thoughts are just too important not to write out and share.

I'm currently 30 weeks and 6 days pregnant with our second child. We hadn't planned on getting pregnant with our second until June or July of 2013, but there were other plans in our cards. The beginning of February, the very same night as the superbowl, we were enjoying our weekend and watching the game. I was 4 days late, but I had been late before, so I brushed it off. Well as that 4th late day went on, I started to get this 'funny' feeling. When I told Josh about it, he said we should wait at least another week before taking a pregnancy test. I looked at him like he was crazy, I could not wait a whole week!

Late that evening I had a friend pick my up a test on her way over, since she was already coming over to watch the game. It was agony waiting for her to show up, because as the hours went by with still no AF, I was starting to believe I actually might be pregnant. But that little voice in my head kept telling me, 'don't psyche yourself out, you'll only be disappointed when the test is negative.'

The test didn't even need to sit for the 3 minutes...Within seconds I had two very distinguished lines. I was shocked. My friend hugged me and was jumping up and down congratulating me, and I was just standing there flabbergasted. She stopped in her excitement long enough to remind me that I needed to tell Josh who was watching Half Time in the next room. As soon as I called his name, he knew.

Although I had been longing for another baby, the news came easier to Josh than it did to me. I had only just started to become myself again, taking up my hobbies and having some real fun. I wanted to be excited, I wanted to be happy about it, and I was, but I wasn't. And as the weeks went by and I started to feel sick, I couldn't help but wonder, "why now?"

I'll be honest, I was hoping it would be a girl, I could be excited about a girl. So when we had an early gender scan at 16 weeks and 3 days, and found out it was going to be another boy, I was sad at first. I say at first, because I realized something very important a few weeks later.

This is what this post is really for, not just to tell the story of us finding out about our second child, but more importantly, finding out that it would be another boy. That I would have TWO Friedman sons.

Genealogy has always been important to me, and I had known that Josh was the last Friedman son, that's one of the reasons I was so excited James came out a boy. Carrying on the family name was and is, so very important to me. But it wasn't until we watched the episode of Band of Brothers on HBO, the episode about the WWII concentration camps, that I realized just how big of a deal it is for me to have Friedman sons. Josh's grandfather was a navigator for the US military in WWII. Other than himself, Grandpa Friedman, all the other Friedman's lived in Germany at the time. Grandpa was the only Friedman that wasn't exterminated in a concentration camp. Grandpa being the only Friedman left, survived the war, even after being captured by Nazi's, married, and had children. But he only had one son, Josh's father. When Josh's father married, they had one son, Josh. For 3 generations the Friedman name has continued through only one individual at a time.

So I am very proud that our first child was born a son, and I am even more proud that I am able to give them yet another son in just a few months. History is important, and it lives on through our children. It makes me very happy that I get to be a part of rebuilding a family that could have been completely eradicated.

Yes, a girl would have been special too, but I couldn't be more ecstatic to be having another boy.