July 30, 2014 - 22 Weeks
I'm beginning the account of you, Baby Hewitt #2, well into the start of your life, though your life is still maintained within the stretched fabric that is my skin. Never-the-less, it is still your life.
I feel bad, as the account of your older brother started much sooner into his life, and it seems that you have already been subjected to the existence that is "The Subsequent Child." Where much care was taken to detail for his story, I fear that my lack of "fairness" towards you and your story will undoubtedly come back to haunt me. But I am starting now, because I want you to know my feelings and experiences as I did with your brother, though they will be written as remembrances until I reach present time.
Your Papa and I had only begun talking about adding to our family. It took much convincing on his part, as I was hesitant due to my frightening experience with Post Partum Depression. I was unsure of myself and whether or not I would be able to handle another little one, since I felt I barely scraped by on the skin of my teeth with the first. But he felt it was time. And so we made plans.
Because of the miserable four years it took for us to even have your older brother we knew we would be in need of assistance in order to bring another into the world. I went and talked to my doctor, who made provisions to start me on Clomid, but had me first take a test to make sure I wasn't already pregnant. A few minutes later she came back saying the test was inconclusive, that they couldn't tell one way or another if the test was positive or negative. She sent me home saying to take another test in a few days.
32 weeks
And I did.
And it was positive.
Positive. Positive without four years of trying. Positive without four years of heartache, heart-break, depression, self-loathing, loneliness. Positive after only one week of deciding it was time. Those four years of trying to bring your brother here were a nightmare. But he has been a breeze of a child. It was a breeze trying to bring you here. Makes me worried about what sort of child you will be. I told a friend about our infertility with your brother and how easy you were and she said "God sure has a sense of humor." And I agree.
But even after I cried seeing the positive test, even after I saw your Papa's smile when he learned you were coming, even after all the congratulations from your grandparents and uncles and aunts, even after I could see their happiness I was still afraid. Scared out of my mind. Scared of what it would be like in nine months. Would I completely crash and burn in trying to not only take care of a two year old but a newborn on top of that? Would my post partum depression be even worse than before? Would I act out on any of the thoughts I would have because of the depression? Did I even want this baby?
That was the toughest of them all. Did I even want this baby? It's hard for me to admit, to commit to paper, to solidify forever and never take back. But I feel that if I don't honestly admit all my feelings then you won't understand how much you changed me. I cried, it seemed, every other day those first two months. I just wasn't sure of myself. I was so scared, but scared doesn't seem an accurate or penetrating enough word. Perhaps terror-stricken. I don't know. But I felt I just couldn't do it. Almost felt that I didn't want to do it.
I loyally went to all of my appointments to make sure you were growing the way you should. I took it easy, wouldn't even lift up your brother unless it was absolutely necessary. And I cursed the "morning sickness" you gave me, wishing it had been like last time where because I didn't know I was pregnant until the end of my first trimester I just assumed my nausea was caused by my stomach being its usual obnoxious self and not because of another being sapping my body of all nutrition and energy. It's a lot easier to handle morning sickness if you don't know it's morning sickness, at least for me anyway.
Despite all my worries about whether or not I could or even wanted to have another child I still worried about miscarriage. I knew that if I lost you at any point it would devastate me completely. And I don't say that lightly. I would become completely disconnected from the world if I ever lost you. Ensuring that you stuck around was my top priority. I wanted you to live even if I was unsure about myself. You are more important to me than I am to me.
It wasn't until I could without question feel you move that I became truly excited about you entering our family. It gives me reassurance every time you practice your soccer skills on my bladder. It was a relief to see that you were healthy and growing as you should when we saw you in ultrasound two weeks ago. You wouldn't let us see your cute little face but you were sure proud of your long skinny legs and huge feet. I'm anticipating much bruising to my insides. I still haven't had any intuition about whether you'll be a little boy like your brother or a little girl. I'm pretty sure I had a feeling around this time what your brother was going to be. And that he was an "orange" baby. I don't know what color you are yet. I feel really behind on getting to know you. I blame it all on myself and my denial about the entire thing.
I hope this makes up for my lack of recording keeping these past twenty-two weeks and I hope to be much better in the weeks to come as we prepare for your arrival. We can't wait to meet you, little one.
August 15, 2014 - 24 Weeks
I've finally decided on your color - you don't have one. I think you are too colorful of a baby for one color. I fought it and fought it as I was trying to pick out fabric to make your crib sheets with. I was too worried about how the multicolored fabrics all seemed a little too feminine, not neutral enough. But I finally found some I was happy with, though I wish I had still gone with more colorful prints. I took a cue from the blanket that your Grandma, Aunts Megan, Tip, Angela and Emily, and I made at the family reunion for you. I think I might go back at some point and make a few more but with more colorful fabric.
Naturally your big brother had to try them out for you.
September 6, 2014 - 27 weeks
I took a bath last night to get the weight off my hips and back. You started kicking and playing. You made ripples in the tub water. I loved to watch.
September 15, 2014 - 29 weeks
I got a phone call from the doctor's office saying I failed my glucose test. So now I have to go in for the dreaded three hour glucose tolerance test to see if I have gestational diabetes. I really hope I don't. I cried about half an hour after the phone call. It's not so much about what it means for me, but I know that if I can't keep it under control there could be major health risks for you, Baby #2. And so I worry. I worry about what I'm eating for the next three days to make sure I'm not risking more than I should in hopes that I'll pass this nasty test. And this time I'll be fasting. I won't have eaten anything for fifteen hours by the time the test is done. I just hope that I don't pass out. Because if you pass out, even if your glucose levels would have been in normal range, they make you retake it...ugh.
November 18, 2014 - 38 weeks
39 weeks
Forgive me, little one. I dropped the ball again on your wonderful story of creation. Time seems to pass by all too quickly when you're focused on not feeling uncomfortable all the time, but then all too slowly when you're just ready to no longer have a tiny being kicking and moving around inside you. I'm trying so hard to not be disgruntled or annoyed every day you don't make your arrival. But just like your older brother, it seems my children will all have some sort of stubbornness that I'm going to have to deal with. Since my last update, I learned that I don't have gestational diabetes, which is a relief, though the doctor has suggested I still watch what I eat least you make your way into the world as a 9+ lb child. I've been dilated to 3cm for the past three weeks and you are hanging around at a -1. But you still haven't come on your own. Luckily, you'll be encouraged to vacate the premises next week Monday. Thank goodness, because after last night's terrible sleeping ordeal I am more than ready to be comfortable again, even if it means just as little sleep. At least I'll be able to lie on my back and stomach again. But I do it all out of love, so don't feel bad. Your big brother pets you and gives you kisses on my tummy. It's very sweet, and if he weren't so fascinated by my camera phone I would take a video of it. I have my last doctor's appointment today. I'm hoping she'll have good news. Something along the lines of "let's get you over to the hospital right now, you're going to have a baby any moment." But I have a feeling it's just wishful thinking.
November 24, 2014 - 39 weeks
Your Birthday
Your Oma flew in two days ago. I'm so glad she's here. She's glad she's here to meet you. Your Papa and I drove in to the hospital at 6:00 am. It was so early. But amazingly enough I was actually able to get some sleep the night before, unlike with your brother. So I was semi rested for the task at hand. They got me all checked in and hooked up to monitors and IVs (which sent me into several bouts of hyperventilation and fainting of which I am not proud but I HATE IVs and having needles and tubes stuck in me). They started me on the Pitocin around 7:30 am. And then it was just time to wait. And wait. And wait. It turns out more than one baby was coming that day. And all of them were patients of my doctor. So she was super busy that day. And somehow you and I got bumped to the bottom of the list. We sat around waiting until 2:30pm, making no real progress on our own, until the doctor was finally able to come and break my water. I had cried to your Papa earlier, and by cried I mean with tears down my eyes, not just whining, that I just wanted you to finally be here. However, when the doctor finally did break my water it took you a whole hour and a half to finally make your appearance. It was some of the most intense pain I had ever experienced (no epidural though, could you imagine my freak outs with a tube in my back let alone a tube in my hand?) but I didn't really have to do any pushing. My body pretty much threw you out. So at 3:57 pm you were born a screaming little girl. Our Eva Rose.