the yo-yo

A few weeks ago the boys and I visited our favorite toy store downtown to play and read books.  While we were there, Brooks found a yo-yo that he decided he really wanted.  So I suggested that since his birthday was coming up, that he could ask for one for his birthday.  Then he says to me, "Mom, I want to earn some money and save up to buy a yo-yo."

Well, I guess I don't want to discourage that!  So we set up a "yo-yo" jar at home and he started asking for chores to do.  He's worked so hard for the last few weeks folding & putting away laundry, hanging up diapers on the line, setting the table, cleaning up his brother's giant toy mess in the living room (yes, that is worth paying Brooks $.50 to do) and other miscellaneous jobs around the house to earn the $5.00 he needed to buy a yo-yo.

A few days ago, he earned the last dollar he needed and today we headed back to the toy store.  He was so proud carrying in his jar filled with coins and dollars.  He told the owner, Nancy, and everyone else who would listen all about how he saved his money to buy that yo-yo.  He picked out a green one (his favorite color) and then counted out his dollars to pay for it.  She put it in a bag for him and he happily carried his green yo-yo all the way home.

It's such a small toy and he very easily could have just asked me to buy it for him, or even asked for it for his birthday.  But I was so proud of him for wanting to earn the money himself and then having the diligence to follow through on it!

 Now, for the next challenge .... figuring out how to actually use the yo-yo.

Things I don't want to forget

I've noticed as I'm writing in Bennett's baby book that there's places to write down when his teeth came in, how much he weighs and what his sleeping & eating patterns are.  And while that's all well and good, there are lots of other things I want to remember about him that have no place in his book to write about.  So I'm going to write it here.

4 months

• Bennett snorts.  He snorts when he laughs.  He snorts when he cries.  He snorts when he takes a deep breath.  It's hilarious.  He's done it since the moment he was born.  Literally.  When Chris lifted my freshly hatched baby boy onto my chest, he started crying ..... and snorting.  I love that about him.
• He has many nicknames.  Chunkamonk.  Chubbers.  Benny.  Dr. Cheeks.  (It's funny to hear Carter call him that!)
• The first few months of his life we called Bennett "Grumpy Cat", because all he did was scowl.  All the time.  Scowling.  Even when I'd nurse him, he would scowl.  I was truly afraid that we were going to have a little pessimist on our hands.  I didn't even know babies knew how to scowl like that.  Thankfully, he's turned a corner and smiles and laughs all the time now.

Grumpy Cat - 2 months old

• He's a thumb sucker.  But he will only suck on his left thumb, which I think is funny.  At first I was very against allowing him to suck his thumb.  "That will be a terrible habit to break" I kept telling myself.  But then I noticed that when he'd start to fuss in his crib (usually right after laying him down), he'd pop his thumb in his mouth and fall right back asleep.  Yeah.  This kid can keep sucking his thumb. Plus, he's my third and all my preconceived ideas regarding raising kids are slowly disappearing.  I'll probably regret it later, but for now I'll enjoy the sleep it brings.
• He went through an awkward phase.  He was born with a genuine mullet - loooong hair in the back and almost nothing on top.  Then, what little hair he did have on top all fell out.  And around 10 days old he developed some of the worst infant acne I'd ever seen.  Poor kiddo.  (Maybe it would be ok if I did forget this phase.)  Thankfully, his face eventually cleared up and his hair grows super fast.



1 month old

• Bennett hates lying on his back.  We call him our Turtle.  When we hold him, it has to be upright.  Not even reclined on our lap.  Bolt upright.  If we do cradle him, it has to be on his side.  And even then he's not a super big fan.  And he sleeps on his tummy.  (shhhh, don't tell the AAP) He will lay on his back on the floor, but only for short periods of time.  Unless he's in the bathroom ....... because
• He loves the shower curtain.  Loves loves loves the shower curtain.  I lay him on the bath mat and he just talks and coos and plays with the curtain.  I don't know if it's the colors or the patterns or the fact that it looks 100 feet tall from his perspective, but I'm usually guaranteed at least 15-20 minutes of happy baby time if I lay him down in the bathroom.  

• He recognizes his brothers.  And he knows them well.  Whenever Brooks comes by, he smiles and laughs and talks to him.  When Carter comes near, Bennett almost always scowls.  But that's probably because Carter is the one who pokes his eyes, bites his fingers and rolls on top of him. (true story)

Brooks LOVES Bennett :)

• Bennett loves to be moving.  Whether it's in the car seat, stroller, or in my carrier, he wants to be moving.  He will loudly inform you if you've stopped moving.
• To date, I've lost 20lbs since he's been born.  (see above)
• Last weekend, his first two teeth came in.  At 4 months old.  I may have cried ... just a little.  My other two boys got teeth rather early (between 5 and 6 months) but never at 4 months!  My baby is just growing up too fast!!  Plus, now with two little razor blades in his mouth, I have to be extra cautious while nursing him.
• Bennett will take a bottle, but only if there's fresh pumped milk in it.  He does NOT like drinking milk that has been previously frozen.  High maintenance, much?
• He likes to sleep by himself.  It took me a while to figure this out, but at night I'll lay him in bed to nurse him.  And normally we would should both just fall back asleep.  But when Bennett's done eating, he'll start kicking me and fussing.  So I'd pull him in closer to try and settle him.  Then he'd start screaming at me.  Finally, I'd back away to see what the matter was and as soon as I wasn't touching him, he'd roll over and go to sleep.  Oh.  I guess you don't want to snuggle.  So I'd lay him in his bed, he'd stick his thumb in his mouth and go back to sleep.  I guess it's a good thing.  I really do sleep better without a tiny human attached to me.  But I kinda miss the squishy baby snuggles.
• Bennett won't comfort nurse.  With the other two, whenever they were sad or hurt or upset for any reason, I'd latch them on and all would be well in the world.  But not Bennett.  If he's not hungry, he won't nurse (which is hard to believe, really, given that at 4 months old, he already weighs 17lb!)  That also makes calming him down more challenging.  Nursing was my trump card ... the "easy" way to get my babies to sleep.  Now we have to bounce and rock and pacify and use white noise and do whatever else it takes to calm him down to sleep.

Thursday

A few random notes from this very average Thursday ....

...this morning my boys played "nap time".  I've decided I like that game very much.

...then they played "hide and seek" where they both hid, waiting for the other to find them.  I like that game too.

...Brooks begged to mop the dining room floor.  How could I say no?  It's amazing what gets cleaned when two little boys armed with vinegar spray are let loose in your house.

...I'm very thankful we live in a rental house.  Then I don't feel so bad when the above mentioned boys leave puddles of vinegar spray on the crappy hardwood floors.

... it's not a good idea to put your face near an angry toddler.  Being head butted by a 2 year old really really hurts.

... I love coffee.  Especially on rainy days when you have a headache from being headbutted.

...It's 1:30 pm.  I need to shower.  Badly.  For real, I stink.

...I baked a batch of cookies after lunch and neither of the boys noticed.  Is that a boy thing?  Or a distracted kid thing?

... the boys want to go outside and dig in the freshly rained on dirt.  I know I should let them.  But I'm dreading cleaning up muddy boys in my house I just cleaned 2 hours ago.

... I'm going out to see a movie with some friends tonight.  I really need a night off and I'm excited to go, but am also feeling guilty for leaving.  Is that normal?

A totally rational fear of toilets

A little over a week ago we went to a friend's house for a play date, where the big kids play together (mostly) and the mamas enjoy disjointed conversation while holding our littlest ones and refereeing the big ones.  On this particular morning, my littlest one was extra fussy and really needed a nap - something not easily accomplished when there are half a dozen other kids (mostly boys) running around yelling at a ball they're chasing.  But after much bouncing, nursing, rocking and shushing, I finally got him to sleep in my arms.  I settled in on the overstuffed arm chair to relax with a sleeping baby in my arms and engage in much needed adult conversation.

Buuuuut, then the toddler declares that he has to go potty, an event that still requires my assistance and at the very least, my supervision.  So I carefully stand up with the sleeping baby cradled in my left arm and with my right arm guide my very distracted toddler to the bathroom.  I help Carter pull down his pants and underwear, slip my free arm under his arms and hoist him onto the potty.  I glance at the baby.  Still sleeping.  This is going pretty well.

But then it didn't.  I quickly realized that I overlooked a very crucial little detail.  His penis was not pointed down.  And as if in slow motion, I see the pee start flowing.  Everywhere.  It's arching over the side of the toilet, onto his pants, onto his underwear and of course, onto the floor.  (why, oh why, are little boys the ones given fire hoses out of which to pee???)  I panicked!  I needed to stop the pee!!

By now, my left arm is now nearly numb from holding a gigantic baby, but I can't put him down.  Because, did I mention that this friend has a cat?  And that the cat's litter box is in the bathroom?  And that there's litter all over the bathroom floor?  Yeah, there was no way this baby was going on the floor.  So again, with one arm, I reach around Carter and try to scoot him back further on the toilet.  Which I successfully did.  But in the process I also dunked his little butt into the cold toilet water.  He's yelling, I'm yelling and the baby, my some miracle, is still sleeping.

Carter has this terrified look on his face and I, quite honestly, had no idea what to do.  I mean, there was a hundred things that needed to be done, but what to do first?  Well, in my good judgement, I decided that first I should haul Carter out of the toilet.  I set him on the ground, instruct him not to step in the pee (yeah right) and leave.  I go back out to the living room where I finally set the baby down (after which he immediately woke up - great), grab the extra pair of pants and underwear from the diaper bag and head back to the bathroom.  My poor Carter is still standing there with sopping wet pants around his ankles with a puddle of pee next to his feet.  And I can now hear Bennett voicing his displeasure of being put down in the other room.  I grab a handful of toilet paper & mop up the floor as best as I could then proceed to peel Carter's pants off.  I didn't want him sitting on the kitty litter floor, so I helped him put on new underwear & pants while standing up.  (not easy, by the way)  I succeed in redressing the toddler and we both head back out to rejoin our play date.  I pick the baby back up to start the rocking, bouncing, shushing, please go to sleep routine again.  I inform my friend that my son peed on the floor.  She just smiled an understanding smile and told me not to worry about it.  I was so glad to have that behind us.

Except that it wasn't.  Just this last week we were at another friend's house for preschool.  Carter needed to go potty, so once again, I help him in the bathroom. (this time with no baby in my arms)  I pull down his pants and as I'm helping him sit on the toilet, he sticks his legs out, stiff as a board and refuses to sit down.  I try a few more times and he protests every time saying "I don't have to go potty!!".  Um, you just said you did.  You're doing the potty dance and your underwear already have a few drops of pee on them.  Clearly you need to go potty.  I try to again to set him on the toilet.  Still stiff legged, he states, more emphatically "I don't HAVE to go potty." And then it comes out.

"I don wanna fall in da potty".

Ah.  There it is.  My child is afraid to sit on the toilet.  I guess I can't blame him.  If my mother dropped me in a toilet, I'd be a little skeptical too.

I try assuring him that I won't let him fall, but he's not buying it.  I threaten that if he pees in his pants we'll have to go home, but still he won't budge.  And because I can't make Carter do what Carter doesn't want to do, I pull up his pants and allow him to leave the bathroom, praying he doesn't pee in his pants.  Thankfully this mama had a potty training chair that we were able to use so he could finally pee.

I've tried a few more times at home this week to have him sit on the big toilet, but he absolutely will.not. do it.  I'm just hoping he overcomes this fear before we're stuck in, say, Target and he won't use the bathroom.  Oh, the adventures of parenthood.

shave and a haircut

Well, Bennett hasn't had his first shave yet (although with how hairy this boy is, it may not be long) but he did get his first haircut this weekend.  I know.  He's only 12 weeks old.  But his hair really was getting kind of outta control.  He was born with a legit mullet and it's only grown longer since.

before

So we decided it was time.  I was sad, but didn't cry this time.  That's a first too.

after

after the bath

To be honest, I like it trimmed up.  He looks very handsome and he didn't really lose that baby look.  But let me just tell ya, it's not that easy cutting the hair of someone who can't even hold up their own head.  His hair line in the back isn't perfectly straight, but I'm just thankful I didn't cut off an ear!!

Both ends

We are now a family of five, two grown-ups and three children.  Three boys to be exact.  And I often hear the "Wow, three boys.  You must be busy" comment often.  And it's true.  We are busy.  But I don't think having three boys makes us busy.  I'm pretty sure just having three children makes you busy.

My day looks something like this...

7:00am - the big boys roll out of bed.  One of them is usually crying for any various number of reasons.  Chris takes them down stairs for breakfast and I roll over to either get a few more minutes of sleep (if I'm lucky) or nurse the baby (more likely)

7:30 - my feet hit the floor.  I leave the baby asleep in our bed and trudge downstairs to assess the day.

7:45am - Chris leaves for work.  One of the boys cries because he didn't get to say "good-bye" enough times or in the right way (we have routines, ya know)

8:00am - I make coffee.  Lots of coffee.  I find a mutually agreed upon and engaging activity for my boys to do (aka watch TV) while I take a shower.  I live for those 10 minutes of hot water.  It's better than coffee I think.  I find a clean pair of yoga pants to wear, dry my hair (again, if I'm lucky), and begin the "getting dressed" routine which involves telling Brooks 42 times to put on clothes and physically wrestling clothes onto the toddler.

And I wish I could break down the rest of my day, but it's all a blur from here on out.  Between now and 5:15pm I...

scarf down some breakfast, clean up dishes, sweep the floor (maybe), break up a fight, help Carter go potty, nurse the baby, change a diaper, figure out why Carter is screaming, play some cars, start a load of laundry, vacuum the floor, tell Brooks to stop taking Carter's toys, fix a snack, rock the baby to sleep, play a game, make lunch, eat lunch while nursing the baby, clean up lunch, wipe table, wash dishes, hide in bathroom to go "potty", change a diaper, rock baby to sleep, tell Carter to stop screaming, help Carter go potty, wipe Brooks' butt, read books, tuck Carter in for a nap, again, and again, and again, give up on Carter taking a nap, put on a movie for the kids, regain a bit of sanity by checking Facebook, check e-mails, build a tower, fold laundry, prepare a snack, clean up snack, nurse the baby, read more books, play with baby, figure out why Carter is screaming, put Brooks in time-out, console crying 4 year old in time-out, trip over toys, make plans to bring said toys to Goodwill, start cooking supper while wearing Bennett, take away toy the boys are fighting over .....

... and then the clouds part and angels sing.  Daddy's home!  Back-up has arrived.  He occupies the big ones while I finish cooking supper.  After we eat, he plays with the kids while I clear the table, do the dishes, sweep the floor, wipe down the table.  Sometimes I join them in playing, but usually I take this time to catch up on other house projects.  And then it's bedtime.  I love my children.  With all my heart.  But oh, how I love bedtime.  Daddy usually does the bedtime routine - brush teeth, go potty, put on jammies and I join them for prayers and hugs.  And finally, Brooks and Carter are asleep.  The day is done.

Except that it's not.  Bennett is still awake.  And will be for quite some time.  We've discovered that's he's quite the night owl.  And despite our best efforts to nurse, rock, shush, and console him, he will.not. go to bed before 10pm. (it used to be midnight, so I guess I shouldn't complain)  So what used to be our "alone time" without the kids before we went to bed, has turned into a threesome.  And when one of us finally gets Bennett to stay asleep, we collapse into bed around 11pm.

And because Bennett is only 2 months old, I'm up in the night nursing him.  Often.  And that's ok.  I really do enjoy nursing my babies.  But after going all day and up all night I feel like this mama is burning the candle at both ends.  There's rarely a moment when I'm without my children, day or night.  And I'm tired.  Happy, but tired.

I will say, however, that I'm SO thankful for Chris and how much he's stepped up with this baby.  He volunteers to rock him so I can have a break.  He'll take the big kids out so I can nap while Bennett naps.  He really is amazing and the only reason I'm still surviving parenthood.

So yes, we're busy.  And it's good.  We love our boys.  We love our life.  But I would by lying if I said I wasn't looking forward to when we can at least sleep through the night again.

Bennett Lee. the birth story.

Our third son Bennett Lee was born on January 11th, but it's taken me a while to sit down and write out his birth story.  I've tried a few times before this, but I couldn't do it.  Seeing his birth in writing makes it so .... permanent.

I've learned that it takes time to process a birth - not only the happenings but also the emotions entwined in it.  Birth isn't just physical.  It's emotional.  So very very emotional.  And this birth was so different from both of my others - both physically and emotionally.  Not better or worse.  Just .... different.  But now that I've had some time to process my feelings and recount the day's happenings, I'm finally at a place where I can write it down.  So here goes.

Our due date was January 10th, but since my first two babies came a few days past their due dates, I really wasn't expecting a baby until at least Jan 15th.  Not sure why I had that date stuck in my head, but there it was.  So it was no surprise that I woke up pregnant on January 11th, a Saturday.  I did, however, wake up to a few "stronger than Braxton Hicks" contractions.  Nothing too serious, but strong enough to wake me up.  I tried timing them, but I was tired and telling time at 4am is not my strong suit.  They were perhaps 10-15 minutes apart.  Maybe this is it?  But 7am comes around, the two noisy big brothers roll out of bed yelling at each other and, as suspected, contractions spaced out to nearly non-existent.

Chris took the boys down stairs and started making breakfast while I enjoyed an extra half hour of sleep.  I eventually waddle downstairs and join them for breakfast.  I told Chris I had had a few contractions, but it's most likely nothing.  The boys are still bickering with each other (hello cabin fever) and I feel like crap!  As it turns out, I developed a lovely case of shingles that week.  Yes, shingles.  So not only am I 40 weeks pregnant, but I have this painful, burning rash wrapped around my rib cage.  Lovely.  So Chris graciously offers to take the boys out to the zoo so I can enjoy some quiet time alone.  I love that man!

While they were gone, I tried timing these contractions but they were the farthest thing from consistent.  10 minutes apart.  Then 8, 15, 12, 7, 14 minutes apart.  They were strong enough to cause me to pause during each one, but the inconsistency made me believe I was in super early labor (if I was in labor at all).  I texted my doula (who lives an hour away) to let her know to keep her phone close by, but I really wasn't expecting anything to pick up until maybe that evening when the boys went to bed.  The contractions weren't consistent and with  the kids awake, I knew nothing would progress.  And besides, who has a baby in the middle of the day anyway??

After the boys left, I putsed around the house - I took a shower, dried my hair, prepped a crock pot meal for supper, made sandwiches for the boys' lunch - all the while having these really random contractions.  It felt good to lean forward during them.  And each contraction I felt solely in my lower abdomen.  In fact, I had to feel the top of my uterus with my hand to see if it was even contracting that high.  It was.  You see, this baby sat sooooo low throughout my whole pregnancy that all my broad ligaments were maxed out.  Stretched, achy and cramping.  And that is where I felt each and every contraction.  It hurt, but they were mild enough that I was handling them fine.

Chris and the kids came home around 12:30pm and I sat them down for lunch.  A contraction came on and I leaned over the table to breath through it.  And then Chris starts to get a bit nervous.  "What's going on?  Are they getting stronger??  Should I call someone to come get the boys?"  They were getting stronger, but I really didn't feel the need for the boys to leave.  "I'm fine" I told him.  "They're so putsy putsy, this may not even be labor at all."  I honestly didn't think I was in labor and I really didn't want to call our whole birth team over just to have them sit around twiddling their thumbs.  But after a few more of the "stop me in my tracks" contractions, Chris calls Grandma Gale to get the boys.  And then he starts filling the birth pool!

"What are you doing?!??  This is a little premature, don't you think??"  And now Brooks and Carter were getting excited too.  They're hovering around the pool asking "Is the baby coming today?  Are you going to get in the water and push the baby out, Mama?"   I didn't even know what to say to them.  Um ..... maybe?  The baby might come today.  I didn't want to get their hopes up if this turned out to not be labor after all.  And while the pool is filling, Chris is packing the boys' backpack, pulling down the boxes filled with our birth supplies and getting the house ready to have a baby.

Whoa!  Seriously?  We're doing this?  I am NOT in labor and we do NOT need these things!  He was making me nervous with all his bustling about.  Several times I told him to sit down.  Finally he stops and says to me "Do you NOT remember how fast Carter's labor was?  I need to get all this set up so that I can focus on you.  You don't want me filling the birth pool when labor really picks up and you need me."

Fine.  I finally conceded to his birth preparations.  I breathed through a few more contractions while he worked.  Grandma and Papa Gale arrived a little before 2pm.  A contraction came while they were here, so I stepped into the bathroom, breathed though it and them come back out to chat with them.  I still felt kind of silly asking them to take the boys so early, but even if labor did stall out, I would at least enjoy a quiet afternoon with my husband.  That would be nice.  I kiss both the boys good-bye and they all head out.

After they left, Chris made me some toast and I sat down to eat lunch.  A few stronger contractions came while I was eating and I told Chris to call Sara, our doula.  Since she was coming from Vermillion, an hour away, and has two young children of her own, I wanted to give her enough time to make it here.  She offered to send over her back-up doula, Niki, until she arrived but we declined.  Labor was still going slow and we were handling things fine.  Chris was timing contractions now and they were finally settling into an every 8 minute pattern.  We contemplated calling our midwife, but decided we'd wait until things picked up a bit.  I just knew this was going to be my "all day" labor.

When I finished eating, I laid down on the couch for a bit.  The contractions hurt more while laying down so I got up and knelt over the couch.  That felt better.  Then I moved over to the floor by the pool.  It was the middle of the afternoon and the sun was beaming in though the window.  I wanted to sit in the sunshine.  So there I am.  Sitting on the floor - just soaking up the warmth of the sun.  Contractions were getting stronger, but still 8 minutes apart.  Chris and I were talking and laughing in between them.  And it was nice.  It was how I pictured labor to be.  Calm and relaxed.  I even joked with Chris, Wouldn't it be great if we had a baby before supper? knowing fully that this labor would go well into the evening.

A little after 3pm, I had a few contractions that were 5 minutes apart.  We decided to call Debbie, our midwife.  And then I decided I wanted to get in the birth pool.  Contractions were becoming increasingly stronger and I wanted to relax in the water.  About 3:15pm, Sara arrives and finishes getting the house ready for the birth - making our bed, laying out plastic sheets and such.

When I first sat in the water, it felt so good.  The warm water was as relaxing as I thought it would be.  And then I had a few contractions.  Whooo, were they strong.  Having never labored in such a big pool before, I wasn't quite sure how to situate myself.  But I ended up on my knees, leaning over the edge of the pool.  And now, after just a few minutes in the water, these contractions became really intense.  I mean, barely making it through each one kind of intense.  I was relaxing as best as I could, moaning, yelling and cutting off the circulation in Chris' hand.  But still they came even stronger.  And that's when the fear set in.  I still have it in my head that this is going to last several more hours, and I can barely handle it right now.  I felt like I was drowning in these contractions.  I wasn't sure if I could handle even a few more, let alone countless more over the next few hours.  And because all the pain is still concentrated on my cramping ligaments, it didn't matter how much I relaxed during each contraction.  They still hurt like hell.  This was not peaceful.  Or relaxing.  And all of a sudden, this was no fun at all.

A little after 3:30pm, Debbie and her assistant arrived.  I heard her come in, but I never saw her until after Bennett was born since I had my head buried in a towel on the edge of the pool, overwhelmed with contractions.

And then the mother of all contractions came.  And about the time it was "supposed" to be over, it wasn't.  It just kept coming.  And coming.  And coming.  For 4 minutes it came.  I remember saying out loud "It's not stopping.  Why is it not stopping?"  And I officially panicked.  I truly doubted my ability to birth this baby.  I questioned our decision to have this baby at home - away from all drugs & pain relief.  And for the first time during any of my labors, I was really scared.  Chris kept saying what a good job I was doing.  Sara was telling me that the baby was coming soon.  But I didn't believe a word of it.  I was handling these contractions terribly and I still had hours to go.

(I'm pretty sure at this point everyone knew I was in transition .... except me.)

And just about that time, a contraction came and I grunted at the peak of it.  Wait.  Was that a push?  I can't be pushing, can I?  This must be what's called "wishful" pushing.  Because as much as I wanted to be pushing, I still didn't believe I was at the end of labor.  It had just started after all.

And then with the next few contractions, I pushed.  But I still wasn't sure if that's what I was really doing.  The sensations are totally different in the water.  I felt pressure, but not the bearing down sensation I felt with the other two boys.  In fact, I actually reached my hand down to feel if there was a baby even coming.  Sure enough.  There was.  My bag of water was still intact, because that's what I actually felt.  But I knew baby was right behind it.  And I kept thinking "Does anyone know I'm pushing?  Is it ok that I'm pushing?"  Because no one said anything.  Not a word.  Our midwife just stood by and quietly observed.  I felt like I should have mentioned that a head was coming, but I couldn't get the words out.  She obviously knew what was going on, but it was just so different to not be given any instructions - to just allow my body to push as I felt the urge to push.  With a few more grunts and pushes, the head was out.  It just kind of ... slid out.  Birthing in the water is so different.  It didn't really hurt.  Just a whole lot of pressure.

With the next contraction (which seemed to take forever to come) I started pushing out the rest of this baby.  Chris was still holding my hands, and Debbie said to him "Dad, if you want to catch this baby, you better get back there."  Apparently neither of us knew baby was coming this quick!  So he rushed back, and just as the baby was slipping out, Chris caught him in the water and lifted him up.

I turned over and was finally able to meet this baby face to face!!  And as Chris handed him to me he said with tears in his eyes "We have a little boy".  I couldn't believe it.  I felt like labor just started and here was this sweet baby boy already in my arms.  He was beautiful with dark hair and the cutest little snorts and grunts as he cried.  Our third son was absolutely perfect.

Bennett Lee was born at 3:45pm, less than 10 minutes after Debbie arrived and about 30 minutes after Sara arrived.  My friend Katie, our photographer, was still on her way.  She missed the birth, but thankfully Sara grabbed our camera and took pictures for us.  I'm so thankful that she did.

About 20 minutes after Bennett was born, Katie showed up and took some more pictures.  Niki, another doula and friend, also came to offer her support.  We were surrounded by so many fantastic people.  I'm still overwhelmed thinking about how blessed and loved we were (and still are!).

After he handed me my baby, Chris climbed in the pool with me and we both became acquainted with our new son.  What an amazing feeling to be holding this child that we've been waiting for for the last nine months.  I cried.  Chris cried.  Both so very thankful for all we've been blessed with.

It didn't take long to again realize how different the water made this birth.  Because when I normally feel the instant relief after birth, I still hurt.  My uterus hurt.  Now my bottom hurt.  And the post birth contractions still hurt like crazy.  I couldn't quite figure out why, since the baby was already out.  But every few minutes a contraction came and I would wince in pain.  Focusing on the baby helped some, but I was really ready to be done with these contractions.  I had put in my time and was done.

After an hour of skin to skin and bonding with Bennett, Debbie mentioned that we really needed to get the placenta out.  I was surprised that it still hadn't come.  She suggested that I get out of the pool to push it out.  We cut the umbilical cord so I could get out, and Chris was able to enjoy skin to skin time with our sweet boy.

I started to stand up to move out of the tub, but was instantly struck with a major cramp and I sat back down in the pool.  Good grief, why did these contractions hurt so bad?  And where was this darn placenta?  In birth's past, it's detached on it's own and the midwife just pulled it out.  But not today.  With Sara and Niki's help, I did eventually get out of the tub.  I squatted on the floor and had to actually push out my placenta, which I didn't really want to do since everything still hurt, but it had to come out.

I will never again give birth without doulas.  What amazing people!!

After that ordeal, I finished drying off and settled in on the couch.  Finally I felt some relief.  And it felt so good to lay down.  And here's the cool part.  While I was resting and nursing my baby, Debbie and her assistant, along with help from my doulas, all starting cleaning everything up.  Draining the pool, starting the laundry, washing up dishes, deflating the pool.  It was awesome.  Within a couple of hours you would have never known we just had a baby in our living room.  I got dressed, Katie ran and grabbed us some dinner (because we ended up having this baby before dinner after all!) and we - me, Chris and all our friends - sat around our living room, just hanging out and talking.  It was fantastic.  We were just at home, comfortable and relaxed.  And now we had a new baby to hold.

The two big brothers came home around 7pm that night and were able to meet their new brother.  They were so so excited to meet him and hold him!  They were just as anxious for him to arrive as we were.

And when everyone went home and the boys were tucked into their beds, we went to bed too.  In our own bed.  In our own house.  With no one interrupting us every hour to sign paperwork, check vitals or any of that other hospital protocol.  It was amazing.  And even though we had good births in the hospital, I am absolutely sold on home birth.  If we decide to have more children, I would love to have them at home!!