My Jacklby

Jack's and my story starts a long time ago, with my Scruff. A lovely mutt cat, she was long haired, black with a half and half nose, and she was a cuddler. She played inside and out, was reserved, yet playful. I grew up with her snuggling in my lap, sleeping with me in my bed, kneading away, and comforting me whenever I was exhaustively sad. She seemed to always "know" when I needed a snuggle. She, in many ways, was a very real and present support system during those awkward and infuriating teenage years when I couldn't talk to anyone, but could talk to our furry house pet. Scruff passed away at the very lovely age of 21, and my parents put her down because she wasn't going on her own.

 Fast forward a couple years. I've moved to Charleston to meet Daniel, live around each other for a while before we get married. I've just graduated, started a new job, moved to the South, and have no friends. I was totally in love with the boy. He was gone though and we didn't live together. I'm thankful for that, but I was lonely. I found myself in that place again, longing for a furry companion to care for and love on, and have a cuddle with. I started going to shelters, went to a non-uthenization home with a million cats in it. I did not find the right cat though. None of them fit in to my heart. Daniel wasn't very happy, and kept chiding me about it, but I ignored him. That's another story. I remember feeling disappointed after seeing most of the shelters and not feeling connected to any of the cats. Then, one night after a double date with Tim and Sam, we returned to the guys apartment and as we were walking up the stairs, there was Jack. He was trying hard to get into a guy's apartment, but as we could see through the door, he had three cats of his own and couldn't take another one. He had given Jack some food, but Jack wasn't interested, he was keen to go visit the kitties inside. Dan and Tim said no, and kept saying no, but I said yes, and when the door closed, Jack trotted along with us up to their apartment and walked right in. No fear, just interest as he scoured the apartment in search of something. Who knows what it was; maybe food, water, or a little box. We didn't have any of those, but I wouldn't let him go. I was in love. He looked like an adult cat, he was big, but not too big. He turned out later to only be 6-8 months. He investigated the apartment with a gleam in his eye. He came up and snuggled every once in a while with me, then went off again. We kept him that night and after Daniel went to work in the morning, I went out and got a litter box and food. We thought maybe he was owned by someone because he used the litter box right away after almost 18 hrs of holding it. I took a picture of him and printed off signs. Just in case someone had him as a pet, I wanted him to be returned to his family, though in my heart I hoped no one would claim him. I posted in the apartment complex, the retirement community behind, and at the community centers. Daniel finally got tired of him and I brought Jack to the SPCA. I hated it, but I knew I had to give it a chance. Maybe his family was looking for him. I had first claim on him though, and 6 days later, when he was still there, Daniel and I returned and picked him up. I'll never forget his face when I went in to get him. It was so sad and dejected. You could just see how miserable he was sitting in that cramped cage with no one loving on him. Broke my heart but it also solidified that I was going to take him home. He got fixed that day and the following day, I brought him back to my apartment. He wobbled and fell over from the drugs, but immediately started exploring the apartment. There was no way he was going to follow the discharge orders of restrictive activity! I named him Jack for this constant mischievousness and inquisitiveness. Jack just seemed to fit him.

 That was our beginning. He was happy, for the most part. He played, rolled, ran around the apartment, slept and snuggled. He loved to come up into the crook of my arm, and suckle on my shirt as he fell asleep. It was weird and endearing at the same time. I learned later that that is a behavior of cats who have been separated from their mothers too early. He would sleep and wake up at 3am, hungry or just playful. He'd walk over my head to wake me up, and when I didn't respond to that, he'd jump up onto the dresser and start knocking things off. He was very intentional about it too, he'd knock something off and look up at you to see if you'd give a reaction. It was so infuriating at times! He scratched my couch, scratched under the ottoman and the bed (our new, expensive bed I might add), and did pretty much what he wanted. Water didn't deter him... he actually visited you when you took a shower and tried to drink from the faucet. That was the start of that little quirk. He was tireless when it came to drinking out of the faucet. If it was on, he was on the counter trying to drink. I let it go after a while, knowing that he'd never change. To this day he drank from faucets, his favorite being my parent's tub. He was an infuriating kitten, but such a cuddle bug when he wanted to be.

 He got a big sister in November when Opel came with my soon to be in-laws. Opel bounded in and Jack puffed up about three times his size. Tail full and back curved up. He didn't calm down the whole weekend. Soon though, he figured out Opel's meekness, and he gained a playmate. Our favorite picture of Jack was one with him and Opel playing, with him back on his haunches, poised to swat at Opel with all his might. They seemed to be a good pair. He was antsy though, and escaped from the apartment at least once, pushing through the screen of my second floor window and having a great adventure that day and evening while I was at work. It took me a couple minutes to figure out that he was gone that
night when I got home. All I had to do though was go outside and call his name a couple times and he came running back. Of course I pick him up and am tearing up in relief and he's trying to get away again :).

  He and Opel made the trip to Hawaii and it became Jack's mission to get out. Of course we lived at a busy corner, and every time he got out, he'd shoot across the street without looking at all. I swear every time that happened my heart stopped for a second. It was in Hawaii that I realized that I needed to make him an outdoor cat or he was going to have to go. He was tearing up a lot of stuff in the house, including Daniel's speakers. He didn't like Jack anyway, but when he realized what he was doing to his precious musical equipment, he was irate. I knew, even with the snuggles and the companionship he gave me, if I didn't figure something out, our marriage was going to suffer!

 When we got orders to Italy, I asked my parents to take him for the assignment and asked if they would be willing to let him outside. Dad loved him, and more so, thoroughly enjoyed him and was happy to help. Together with Mom, Dr. Schermerhorn and Cait, Jack was introduced outside. He thrived, he loved it, and he loved all the attention and love that my family gave him. Being a southern then island cat caused him to hate winter, and it was humorous to see the battle within as he faced the cold and snow to go outside for just a little bit. He and Dad caught mice together through the vents. Jack always knew when one was coming around, because he'd take up residence near the vent under the sink, making it difficult for my parents to do much in the kitchen. He brought back chipmunks and mice when it was warm, sunbathed on the deck, and made friends with the neighborhood cats. He was happy there, more than ever before.

 When we got back to Monterey, my parents brought him back to us. I knew he was incredibly happy with my parents, but I could offer him outside time all the time, as we were always home. I didn't have much time to sit and cuddle anymore, as the busyness of having a toddler and running around all day long made my sitting time obsolete. He was outside all day long though, and he thrived. He'd start the morning outside, come in for a snack and nap, then head back out in the afternoon. He'd have preferred to roam the night away, but I always made him come back in. Coyotes and other large animals of prey frequented the Northern California area, and I didn't want him to be eaten. He had his days full though. We lived right next to the community center and a parking lot, and there were many times when I'd get a call from some good samaritan calling because my cat had just jumped into their car. I always thought that one day he would jump in and someone would drive off with him, not knowing he was in there. He would hang out in the field next to our house and stalk mole holes, tirelessly trying to catch them when they poked their noses out, but always coming out empty-handed. He did, however, bring home countless field mice, and even caught a bird mid flight. He ate them up pretty well too, Grace found the remnants in our back yard often enough that she knew what it was when she came across a little carcass. He napped in the bushes in our front garden, joined us in the afternoons when would run the dogs, pouncing on them as they came back with the balls. He visited Amanda and Colin often, ran after Maggie whenever she was out. He would anxiously follow us around if we ever left the house on foot, following us to the park or the community center where we had Kinderjam. He'd sit outside the windows meowing at us, which totally distracted the kids and a couple times I had to leave and take him back home into the house so he would stay put. He didn't like us being far away. He was the only one who could wander. He got into a cat fight while we lived there, coming home one afternoon sore and in pain, but not having any obvious wounds. It wasn't until two days later that I realized it was his chest and he had a abscess starting four procedures, two drains, and one cone of shame later and he was healed. For such an adventurous cat, that was the first run in he had with another animal. He owned the area we lived in, and he sauntered around without fear, lazily crossing the street and often times sitting in the middle of it not minding that a car was coming. Thankfully we lived on a quiet road and cars would stop and wait for him to move. I said often that one day a car wasn't going to see him and he would get hit. I put it in the back of my mind though because if I worried about everything that could happen, he'd have to be back indoors and that would make everyone miserable. Everyone knew Jack.

 Grace loved loving on Jack, and so did the munchkins of Monterey. He put up with it for a while, and then would grow tired of the little hands and swat at them. Of course he never moved, so usually I'd have to move the kids or move him home. He thought Noah was an anomaly, looking inquisitively at him when he cried (which was a lot at the beginning), and giving me the stink eye when I woke him from his slumber at 12, 3, and 5am to nurse Noah in the family room. Our laptime sessions were pretty much non existent after Noah was born. When it was finally time to leave Monterey, I was happy to send Jack with my parents because I knew that he'd have much more cuddles and lovies with them. As well as quiet. My sister-in-law Amanda came to help us pack out, and she brought Jack back with her, meeting my parents late that night to send him back to Clarkston. He settled in right away, as if he hadn't left at all. He reunited with the neighborhood cats, caught rodents, and went exploring.

  It wasn't too surprising when my dad called my last Thursday and told me that Jack hadn't come home the night before. He did that a couple times in Monterey, however he was always at the door in the morning, hungry and tired. Thursday morning he wasn't. when he didn't come back the next day, I started to have some doubt. Thinking he either jumped into a car that took him away without knowing, or finding himself stuck in a drain somewhere, I thought that maybe he'd just take some time, but then make his way home. I had some doubts though. He hated being away from us, never went farther then he was comfortable. I hoped and prayed that someone hadn't taken him in and made him his pet, and I prayed even more that he hadn't gotten hurt and died alone somewhere. My dad, mom, and sister were tireless in trying to find ways to get the word out to find him. Dad went to the neighbors, Cait posted on-line, and mom visited shelters. Nothing though. He posted an add in the Clarkston News and got a response on Friday.

 Sadly, Jack died around 730pm the Wednesday that my parents last saw him. They had let him out at 530pm expecting him to come home for dinner, and he never did. He was hit on Maybee Rd, just at the end of our subdivision. Apparently he was trying to cross the busy road and his lack of weariness for cars finally caught up to him. It sounds like he was hit by a low-riding car, but unfortunately wasn't' killed right away. A lady stopped and saw him, knocked on a couple doors to find his owners before calling the police. Two officers came out, one with a girlfriend who rescues cats. He called her and she came, got Jack, and they tried to make it to a Vet. He didn't make it though and died on the way there. He was in a lot of pain and "looked rough" as the officer said on the phone. He must have gotten hit in the head. I can only imagine his cries of pain, so I'm thankful he passed when he did, with someone. God provided a huge blessing when that particular woman called the police, and that particular officer responded and called his girlfriend. A lot of animals have to die alone, Jack didn't. I will be forever grateful for it. My sadness now is that we weren't there. I wasn't able to say good-bye. I wasn't able to snuggle him that morning one more time before he went to play. I knew that one day he would die, animals only live for so long, especially outdoor animals. I just wasn't ready for him to leave so soon. That is where most of my sadness comes from right now.

 I am writing this as much for me as anything else. I want to be able to go back to it and remember the little life that meant so much to me. That filled such a unique piece of my heart. I also want to validate Jack's life. He was loved, he was wanted, and he mattered. My life is busy with babies, Daniel, and military life. We move again in three months and I have to start my move process over again. I have to move on from now, when I really just want to fly back to Clarkston, go get my cat's ashes and bring them home to his woods in the back of my parent's house. It may sound dramatic to some, but that's how I feel. Life moves forward and I have to go with it. I know he's filling his time running after rodents, catching them all, and bounding in fields. Thanks for taking the time to read about my Jackleby.

Ciao

Allison

 Jack Jones March 2006 - September 4, 2013

Jack

 Our Jack has gone missing. Or, he's on an adventure, which is what I had to tell Grace yesterday when she asked about him. She's easily pared the grandparents with the correct animal and Jack goes with Papa and Grandma. I'm praying he's just on an adventure and will return soon, but considering his inquisitiveness and personality, it's much more likely that he either ran in to a bigger, stronger animal, or he got stuck in something and couldn't get out. The other option is that someone has taken him in and decided to keep him. That would break my heart above everything else, but at least he'd (hopefully) be taken care of. We've posted everywhere, my Dad doing most of the work. He's been wonderful, putting up posters, riding around the community, talking to neighbors. If anyone loves that cat more than I do, it's my Dad. All I've felt like I can do is post on the internet, which seems extremely insignificant, but there is power in the internet, so hopefully something turns up. 

 He's my little man, and I miss him all the time, but I have a ton of good memories of the dude. He was feisty at the beginning, egging on Opel, running around in kitten style, knocking things off counters, dressers, anything just to get our attention. This infuriated me, but it also made me laugh! His eyes were so mischievous... they still get that way when he wants to play! He'll run after dogs, especially his friends. Maggie was always a good target in Monterey. :). He thinks he's a dog, and acts like one, lying on the ground to get cool, "wagging" his tail when he was happy to see you, drinking out of any running water faucet. The best, for me, was when he was a kitten, and even into his adult years; he'd jump up and cuddle with me, kneading his paws (a little uncomfortably) on me and grabbing part of my shirt to suck on. It was weird and cute. 

 He's an outdoor cat now, so it isn't a stretch to think that this could happen; would happen at some point. My hope is that, if he's out and about, he's doing alright. He's a good hunter, so eating should not be a problem. It's the cold and nighttime that I worry about. I hope he comes back. He has been the best cat I've ever met, ever cared for, ever known. He came into my life when I had a lot of change, a lot of adjustment, and he was my cuddly companion. My emotional support for a while. I just love the little man. So, here's to Jack, hope he's happy and healthy, or in animal heaven with Sadie, Sydney, Scruff, and Matchka. 

love you

Fall

 Seems like a once monthly blog post is all I can manage right now. We are chugging along in Groton. I can't say we're doing anything spectacular, we're just hanging and enjoying each other. I'm very much looking forward to fall and all of it's sccenary and activities. I have plans to bring the kiddos to a cidar mill, a pumpkin farm, and at least once we're all going to hop in the van and take a ride North to see the beautiful tree-lined roads of New England. We'll have family visit and we are also going to be planning our next move.... blah!

On to more fun things, Noah started crawling about two weeks ago! It's adorable to see his new-found pride and enjoyment as he wiggles around the house and finds anything and everything to put in his mouth. He is a LOT happier though, so I'm fine with the new challenge of watching him every second to make sure he doesn't eat something and choke. Grace and Noah together are more and more a comedic relief. in the evenings when they're both getting ready for bed, they laugh and are starting to wrestle... it's absolutely hilarious, especially when Noah is instigating! Bath time has also become a hit, and it's easy to get them in, harder to get them out. Noah enjoys the bath and the water, crawling back even after he's out and in his pjs! They're good together and we try to encourage it, though Grace gets a little too rough sometimes when she's overcome with "love!"

 We've done a really fun bike ride around Providence, which had gorgeous scenery, but was a little too much for Grace and Noah. They were over it about 50 minutes into the ride, despite packing the trailer with everything you can think of to keep them occupied. I would love to have time for Daniel and I to just sneak away and ride on our own, but without Meema to watch, that's not going to happen here! We do miss her terribly, and can't wait to see her in December (hopefully), when we go back to visit.

 God has granted us this time together and is stretching me to find innovative ways to keep the kids and the house together. It's a little challenging to not have a playgroup to go to, or a park that is accessible, things we grew accustomed to in Monterey. I knew though, when we left Monterey, that we were most likely entering a season of stretching and testing. This is the easy part too in many ways! Daniel is home earlier here, and we get lots of family time (almost too much sometimes!). God is good though, and I can feel Him guiding us and preparing us, as He always has, to take the next steps. I'm thankful every day that He knows our path and has prepared it for us, because with all the changes and unknowns, anxiety and worry can overwhelm. It's easier to give it to Him and trust that He's got it covered!


 I'll end there, and share some pictures. Ciao!

GROTON!!

 I think I have tried about five times to get an entry in since Easter, but each time it's been left and when I get back to it, a week has gone by. So. I'm going to start fresh. We've moved, again! Monterey was awesome, we were so incredibly blessed with good friends, an awesome church, and a great neighborhood to spend time in and enjoy. As with every move, my heart was left there, and I think so was a little of Grace's. We are going to try to go back and visit sooner, rather than later, but life will determine that one.

 We drove cross country to Groton, and pulled a very large U-Haul behind the swagger wagon. She did pretty well! We think that maybe the back end took a hit, but overall, we got there with only one "bump" in the road. In Oklahoma City the U-Haul was broken in to and they took the tool box. Thankfully, the trailer was SO packed that they couldn't get the door all the way open and we think that is why the tool box was the only thing that was taken. It was the only thing they could get to! Grandpa Jones came with us for the trip, which was a lot of fun as having one more adult helped off set the kiddos! We saw Gigi in Phoenix, Aimee and her family in Arkansas, and Nonna Bev and Nonno Mike in Memphis before we landed in Elizabethtown for five days. That was a much needed break and good family time with the boys and the rest of the family. Opel was there, which Grace love loved, and there was a pool... need I say more, the week was covered with activity!

We picked up a table on our stop there and headed out to Groton, which was supposed to take two days, but I was done driving, so being a night person I just kept driving! We got into town around 7am the next morning. :) It was sweet to drive into town as the sun was rising. It was quiet too because Dan and the kiddos were asleep. Good prayer time as we were literally and symbolically turning a corner and starting again. It's a hard process, but it's worth it, and I always tell myself that. As I leave one place and my heart breaks a little bit, I tell myself that God's plan has us going somewhere that will bring new friends and new beginnings worth another round of heart break.

 Groton has been good so far. It's a nice time to be in the Northeast, trees are full and green, the weather is mostly nice, and thunderstorms are regular (something I have been waiting for for years). The community we moved in to is full with parks, a pool, and good sidewalks for walking. Plus, we are a mile away from a Panera, Kohls, and grocery store. We've already walked there twice. We haven't met many people yet, though I'm sure we will as we get settled in and venture out more. Church usually is a good place for meeting people, and somehow getting a friend with a play group. We do have our friend from Naples who has now been here for a year and has lots of acquaintances with kiddos, so we will see if anything works out there. Grace really misses her munchkins! Nightly she asks for Evie and/or Alex; and Meema, always Meema. We are blessed to have her visiting us right now and so Grace is in heaven. She arrived and Grace was telling Daddy that "Meema is home!!" We all just looked at each other and kind of laughed... there will be some explaining to do on Tuesday when she leaves again.

 It's amazing how flexible Grace has been with this whole process. She has her moments, especially as we were traveling cross-country, but there is no sadness or attachment to Monterey really. She was and still is excited about her "new house." She tells everyone about it. She loves her new room, which now houses every toy that is non-destructive and that I can trust her with... mostly baby dolls and soft things. She enjoys the outdoor things, the pool and the park and especially the splash park. It'll be rough in five months when we leave again, but hopefully she will have the same attitude. Noah just kind of goes with the flow. As long as he has me and his food, he's happy.

 We are exploring a lot, though with Meema visiting, we're playing more now. That and trying to get through boxes! Have to purge so we can be less weight on the next move! Until Next time....

Ciao!

He has Risen!

 As the old response goes, He has Risen indeed! 

 Don't have pictures for today, because we were late for church, but Grace was an absolute ham in her Easter dress, she kept twirling and saying, "Grace pretty, Grace pretty!" Noah did not have an outfit for today... oops! I guess I should have thought about that before ten minutes prior to leaving! Second child  I suppose :). Anyway, Grace showed off her dress and visited with all her adult friends, and we just ran after her. Both Noah and Grace went to nursery today, which is refreshing for Daniel and I! He barely sleeps and I think today was particularly stressful for the nursery workers, but all was well and he survived the hour. 

 I love our church, love the people that we have met there and become friends with. As we move into this last quarter and set our eyes toward Groton, I can't help but be a little sad about the change that is about to happen. I'm sad for me, but I'm really sad for Grace. Her whole little world is about to change and she has no idea. I'm going to be putting that off though, and not thinking about it until I absolutely have to. 

 Today we are going to join our munchkin friends and have a BBQ and Easter Egg hunt together. Should be fun! 

 Ciao Tutti! 

Getting into a Groove

Noah is almost three months old now... technically 12 weeks, but as moms know, after they're born weeks don't really count anymore, dates do. We finally are getting into some kind of groove. Noah doesn't sleep through the night yet, and Grace was close at this point. Boys are different I guess, they don't want to give up the night time feeds as easily (at least most boys I know). I don't have the energy to do a Babywise cry it out session yet either, so he pretty much gets attention when he asks. I can't say I mind too much, he's such a good smiley baby and I feel horrible when he is uncomfortable. The last three months has been Noah being uncomfortable... colic, gassiness, and fussiness has ruled our days. I tried to cut out dairy, cut down on caffeine (both of which made for a cranky mommy), but nothing seemed to work. The only thing that helped a bit was gas drops, though it could have been just timing. Everything seems to be settling down now. We've had a week or so of being able to put Noah to sleep at 730pm and he will calmly go to sleep, before it was screaming until he wore out and passed out. He wakes up between 12 and 1am, then again around 5 and isn't very comfortable after that, but then 7am rolls around and this smiley little boy is there to greet you. It's adorable, I absolutely love it.

 Grace has been a champ through the whole thing. It's taken 3 months for her to settle out too, but she loves Noah, and I think finally seems to like having him around, instead of viewing him as a barrier between me and her. She's full fledged into her terrible twos, and talks to us like a little woman, but even that is leveling itself out. She continues to learn new words, is a perpetual repeater, and loves learning about new things around her, and meeting new people. She is the world's most social two year old I have ever met. She loves all our friends, Jon and Bethany in particular, our friends and fellow worshipers from church. She's sweet on Jonathan, which makes us all laugh, however Jonathan doesn't mind and they seem to get along well. As we move toward June and having to leave here, leaving our church family will be hard for her and for us as well. How do you tell a two year old that you're not going to be living around all these wonderful people anymore? It's hard enough for me, maybe she just won't realize it. At least this time.

 So, we have a groove, at least for a couple weeks. As always, you get into a routine and it changes just as you get comfortable! Such is life I suppose!

 Ciao Tutti!

Attachment Parenting

 I'm not about attachment parenting (no offense to those who are), it's just not something that I have ever wanted to commit to. Noah, however, is determined to change that for me. It's been a month and the kid wants to sleep no where else but on someone's chest or in someone's arms. He doesn't really like the pacifier either, and would prefer to nurse to sleep. My "Babywise" mind is going nuts whenever this happens, but what makes me more nuts is trying to get him to sleep without these two crutches. I always said I'd never be a pacifier for my kid, but it's proving to be challenging! Now, he's only a month, but he doesn't sleep well without these two things and the poor kid is so tired. And poor Grace is left to fend for herself often because mommy doesn't have the hands to get up and get what she wants. He would have been a great first baby, I would have worn him everywhere, slept with him on the couch, nursed whenever (not really, I was a little crazy with Grace). I like to think I would have though!
 So, our days are spent sitting, trying hard to figure out a better way to get Noah to sleep on his own. I do keep reminding myself that this will end, that Noah will grow up too fast and soon he won't be falling asleep on us and cuddling. I remember well when Grace stopped doing that. So, though I'm frustrated at times, I'm thankful. God truly gives us a beautiful blessing when he gives us babies. At least I think so.

 Today we get to go to the farm, Grace is very excited to see all of her friend!

 Ciao Tutti!

Noah Daniel Jones

Our new family of four

Noah Daniel

Noah’s Birth Story

January 4^th: That night I didn’t feel well. Grandma and Papa had left, and Grandma Jones had arrived that evening, ending almost two weeks of having the Spinweber family for Christmas and Grace’s birthday.

Around 0530 I woke up thinking I had gas, and headed to the bathroom. I found a large amount of bloody mucus after wiping and noticed that my comfortableness was not really going away. The contractions started around 10 to 15 minutes apart. I got up, had a good breakfast, and decided to go for a walk with Daddy. We went around the neighborhood, walking, stopping every contraction and me leaning on him to breathe through it. We chatted about what was going on, how Grace and Grandma were going to get on with out us. After getting back from the walk, I was tired again, so I went to bed and tried to rest for a while. Labor in bed was hard, but I felt like it was all I could do with the energy I had. I labored on the ball for a while, trying to sit on it and relax over the bed. That got a little hard after a while as I was having to support myself with my legs and the pain was more intense when I couldn’t relax everything. So, my happy place ended up being lying over the ball, with my head and torso leaning over the ball. For some reason it was easier to relax when I did that. I spent a while there, the contractions averaging every 5 minutes. They stretched out at some point, however, making me leave the ball and get in the shower for a couple minutes. It worked. Just a couple contractions and I relaxed enough with the warm water for everything to start speeding up. I got out of the shower to contractions 5 minutes, and then 3 minutes. We thought we’d try to go for another walk, however, we only got to the mailbox (about 25 yards from the house).  I felt like they started to run together, and I couldn’t go anymore. Daniel clocked them at 2-3 minutes apart, and coming more intensely. We had been debating as to when to head to the hospital, and at that point it was completely clear that that was where we had to go. Daniel had everything packed and ready to go, so all we had to do was head back in, change, and get in the car.

We said goodbye to Grace, who was oblivious to what was going on, which made me cry and still does, just thinking of how things were going to change for our sweet girl. The car ride was by far the longest 7 minutes since starting that drive last March. Two contractions was enough to make me tear up as we made our way around bumpy corners and turns. Thankfully it was the afternoon, and there was parking very close to the entrance of the hospital! We made our way, very slowly, to the L & D floor, stopping a couple times to get through a contraction. I’m sure that I had eyes staring at me throughout that trip, but funny enough you don’t really care at that point! Looking back I have to laugh because people looked at me as if they didn’t know what was going on! Seriously?! Having a baby! Ha!

 Walking onto the floor, I was greeted by my most favorite pm shift nurse, Marci! I couldn’t have asked for a better greeter, it was like seeing family.  We headed into our room, they gave me room 10… apparently it has good vibes and successful births! Amy, our nurse, got everything ready for me, and as I was changing into my gown, my water broke.  As it did, I felt everything lower, and the contraction I was having became more intense.  That was the beginning of the hard part. More so because everything started moving fast, the contractions became incredibly intense, and because I was still in transition from home to the hospital, I felt that I never truly settled into labor again… it was hold on for dear life!

 Things started with 15 minutes of being on the monitor, getting an IV, being checked and starting the ampicillin. Poor Amy, I was squirming the whole time, trying to breathe through each contraction, which was about 2 minutes apart. Upon checking me, I was 5 cm. I’ll admit I was a little distressed to hear this! I had labored all day, the contractions were almost unmanageable at this point, and I was only half was there! Daniel was my rock though, he talked me through that moment and we refocused. Amy got the IV on the second attempt, and by that point I could get off the monitor and start moving around again. We tried hanging over the head of the bed, which didn’t work; again, having to support myself with my legs made the contractions unbearable. Of course this was when Lab came and wanted to get blood… his only saving grace was that he got it on the first stick and I didn’t even feel it, even as I was watching it, there was no pain. Everyone gave him props for that! I moved after he was finished, to the ball, leaning on the bed. Again, not comfortable at all, but this position seems to make things lower again, pushing more amniotic fluid out, opening everything up. I crawled up the bed each contraction and started feeling out of control. I remember one contraction in particular something was too much, something was moving and I all I did was cry, “Amy!” Don’t know why or what I was meaning, but she seemed to know, and asked if I wanted to get checked again. Bless the labor nurses, they have enough experience that even when I did not know what was going on, they did. Good news was coming at this point, upon recheck I was 8 cm! This was 30 minutes after the last check, and even though it was a very positive move, all I could think was, “Oh, transition and I really CAN”T do this!” I believe I just started repeating that over and over, in between yelling. Oh, that’s when the yelling really started, and interestingly enough, I started bearing down. There was a very imperceptible change in my pain, which lowered from belly, down to bottom. I remember trying to breathe through the contraction and thinking, “If I bear down, maybe it will help.” That’s what I did and at that point more people started coming into the room. Dr. Walker was called, and I just kept holding on. I was in bed, on my side, one leg up as it was more comfortable that way.  Contractions at this point were 90 seconds apart. They really just didn’t stop in my mind! My body took over at a point and without control over it, I naturally just started bearing down. Thankfully Dr Walker came in at this point… kind of lackadaisical, and apparently saw a little head because all of a sudden the bed was being torn down and I was literally being moved in bed! Pushing started right then, and what an experience! That ring of fire is FIRE! Ha! You think you can’t possibly push into that pain, but you just do. I had three pushes, between the first two I had a blessedly painless break that I actually relaxed for, and then between the second and last one, screamed bloody murder and Noah’s little head popped out. The third push had the rest of him out and our handsome little man entered the world!

 They placed him on my chest and, unlike Grace’s birth, I looked at him and saw a familiar face… Daniel’s and Grace’s! He was a chubbier version of her, but the same. And so handsome! He screamed, and pinked up nicely. I looked right at Daniel and exclaimed, “We did it!” He was such an amazing coach and even seeing me in such pain and choking up, he guided me so well through everything (even as I lost my self control and fell FAR away from the Bradley way).

 Noah Daniel calmed well and we did skin to skin time until he started rooting and squirming his way down to eat. They weighed him and measured him, 7-10 and 20 inches! Two pounds heavier than Grace was! The ladies were wonderful and helped clean me up and tuck me in, smiles all the way and lots of praises for our natural birth. I was slightly embarrassed by the screaming at the end, but know that I couldn’t have controlled it even if I wanted to! I will never feel embarrassed for a woman I hear doing that while at work again!

 The whole experience was amazing, I wouldn’t do it any other way! I was up within the hour, taking a shower and eating anything I could get my hands on! The shower was heavenly! Its like you’ve done the most intense workout you can think of and you just need to clean off.  I would have wanted to do it anyway, but another reason for the quick clean up was Grace’s visit. Since it was close to bedtime we wanted to get her over to the hospital quickly to meet Noah. Mum Jones was her ride over, which was amazing considering she had just arrived 24 hours before and was driving to the hospital without help and in the dark! They made it though and it was priceless watching Grace come into the room. She went right over to Noah and said hello. I showed her my tummy and said, “Grace, Mommy doesn’t have owie tummy anymore because Noah is here!” She repeated everything back to me, “No owie tummy, Noah HERE!” She gave him kisses and then Noah “gave” her a present for becoming a big sister. She opened a Little People’s Noah’s Ark, and was SO incredibly excited! She kept going back and forth from the present to Noah, saying, “Thank you Noah, Thank you!” It was an amazing moment to watch! I didn’t expect her to be so excited honestly. She did not like when I gave Noah over to Daddy and tried to pick her up. She told me very firmly, “Mommy, hold Noah!” Little did we know how much she enjoyed coordinating Noah’s care and day. That’s for later I suppose.

 We hung out for 24 hours in the hospital and then headed home the next night. Daniel had to go back to school on Monday, Mum Jones was still figuring everything out, and I just wanted to be in my own bed, so 24 hours was good enough. Grace was once again ecstatic that Noah was home and continually thanked us for bringing Noah here. J  We settled in nicely and it was as if I hadn’t had a baby twenty four hours before! I can’t think of a more different experience between the two births! I was on a euphoric high for about a week over it all, and then reality set in and that went away. It hasn’t been bad, but going from one to two with a toddler has proven to be challenging. Thankfully Noah is a very good baby, and even though I wear him a LOT, he’s happy and has fit into our family lovingly. We couldn’t be happier and I am thankful that everything went well, and that Noah is HERE!

 Ciao Tutti!