L – Page 6 – Jocelyn Rau

Yesterday we went to an annual family Christmas party, and it’s always a great time. Ryan has a really big family, so fun always ensues when everyone gets together. And this year was no different. Except for one thing…

There were 2 little girls there, one of whom was 6 and the other must have been the same age. They were running around together the whole time, having a blast. One of the girls literally wheeled in a suitcase full of toys when she and her family arrived, which she immediately proceeded to dump out on one of the couches.

Well of course Della saw that and made a bee-line for that mountain of dolls, cars, blankets, and other crap. I could tell the little girl was less than pleased that little D came creeping over to play, so I just made sure Della knew that those were not her toys and that she was sharing. All was well.

Later in the afternoon the girl who brought all the toys was running around with a blanket draped over her like a cape, which Della thought was fantastic. D was having the time of her life chasing after the caped girl and the other one; she probably ran a million laps around the place where the party was. I thought oh great, they’re having fun, that’ll keep D entertained for hours.

Well shortly after the blanket adventures began, I glanced over to where D and this girl were, and the girl was chiding D and wagging her finger in D’s face while wearing a very stern expression. Della was sitting on the floor in front of the girl, and the look on her face just made my heart break. It was a mixture of sadness, confusion, and disappointment that this girl with whom she’d been having so much fun was telling her she couldn’t play anymore.

I was so mad. I completely understand that 6 year olds rarely want to play with 2 year olds, but Della was completely harmless. These girls were running around like banshees anyway, so what did they care that D was following them? She couldn’t even keep up with the circles they were all running anyway. Della’s little head would come bobbing around the corner a good half lap behind the other two each time. I just kept thinking how dare she point her finger in my daughter’s face like she’s the boss? As ludicrous as it sounds, I was royally pissed.

After I saw that I couldn’t keep my eyes off the trio. I became obsessed with making sure Della didn’t get her beautiful little spirit crushed again. I kept seeing the pair of older girls go up to Della, then run away, teasing her into chasing them like they wanted her to play. But then they’d go into the bathroom and hide from her.

At one point they happened to walk up next to where I was standing holding Lana, and I heard them saying something about “oh no, there she is” and having to get away from the little girl. I told them to just leave Della alone because she’s only 2 and just wanted to play with them.

Then one time when I went into the bathroom to wash out a water bottle, Della was in there crawling on the floor trying to get under one of the stall doors because the girls were hiding in it. I about barfed seeing her crawl on the bathroom floor, so while washing her hands I made some comment to D like, “oh, are the girls in there?” She said yes and I could hear them giggling, and I said I thought they were hiding from her. She of course didn’t understand what that meant, so I asked them why they were hiding. They said they were hiding from the boys and Della, and I said well Della just wants to play with you guys because she likes you. They said “I know” in unison and just kind of laughed.

I don’t know if my prodding helped, or if they just decided to give up trying to “get away from that little girl”, but from that point on it seemed like they actually didn’t mind having D run around with them as much. At one point the 3 of them were actually sitting on the hearth of the fireplace together, looking at some toy. And of course D wanted to run around the rest of the time with one of her new blankets tied around herself like the other girl had been. Ok fine, if it makes my baby girl happy.

Now before you yell at me for being a crazy, overprotective parent, yes, I know Della had no idea that the girls weren’t playing with her but were trying to get away from her most of the time. She was just thrilled to be seeing other kids and running around. And she probably had no idea what the one girl was even talking about when she had her finger in D’s face. But I did. And I just couldn’t help feeling crushed.

Della and Lana are little pieces of my heart and soul running around outside my body now, and I will always try to protect them. Especially when they’re this young. So knowing that someone was purposely trying to quash Della’s innocent little sparkle and make her have a bad time just killed me. I seriously wanted to cry when I saw D sitting there on the floor, just wanting to play, and having that poor little look on her face while getting pointed at and scolded by a 6 year old little brat. I wanted to simultaneously scoop her up and smother her in hugs and slap the other girl for not including my daughter. (of course not for real slap, geez)

This little episode got me thinking, though. If I feel this bad when my girls get little hurts like this (i should say nonexistent really, since between me and d i was the only one who knew what was going on), what am I going to do when they go through the inevitable big hurts? I won’t always be there monitoring the situations and making sure everyone lets them play.

My greatest wish as a parent is that Ryan and I instill in our children the senses of confidence and compassion and knowing right from wrong. And more than simply knowing right from wrong, having the strength and self-confidence to act right instead of wrong, especially when wrong is the far easier choice. So hopefully when the big hurts come, as I know they unfortunately will, our girls will be able to navigate through them and come out on the other sides relatively unscathed and stronger.

This protecting my heart and soul when it now has its own legs and runs circles around me… Does it ever get any easier?

how could you not want to play with this one?

It’s taken me a little longer to get to actually writing down the story of Lana’s birth than it did Della’s after she was born, but such is to be expected for #2 when #1 is constantly running around the house. Hopefully I haven’t forgotten any of the important details already!

When Della was born, I had no idea what was happening. I didn’t know I was in labor, just that something really really hurt. So by the time we finally got to the hospital with her, I was already 9 cm dilated and basically ready to push. She arrived approximately 20 minutes after we walked through the hospital doors. Woah.

So with Dv2.0 (we didn’t know if we were having a boy or girl, so she won’t become “Lana” quite yet), I knew I should probably pay a little more attention to everything to make sure we got to the hospital with some time to spare. Especially since my doctor said it was highly likely that I would deliver equally as fast, if not faster, than I did with Della. Again, woah. I definitely didn’t want to have a baby at home or in the car. Yuck.

Then I found out I was group B strep positive this time around, so my doctor explained that ideally they wanted me at the hospital at least 4 hours before delivery so they could administer penicillin through an IV. They like to give 2 doses 4 hours apart to help protect the baby as he/she comes through the birth canal with this. I’m not entirely sure what would happen if the baby were to contract group B strep, but I didn’t really feel like finding out. So needless to say, I was on high alert for any unusual aches, pains, or just generally odd feelings for the couple weeks before Dv2.0’s birth.

Della came 8 days early, and my doctor said women tend to have similar gestational lengths with subsequent babies, so I was fully prepared for another early delivery. With our trip to Peoria exactly 2 weeks before my due date, you’d better believe we had everything we could possibly need for an out of state delivery packed in the car for that one – my hospital bag, a hospital bag for Della, the infant car seat, and all of my prenatal records in case a doctor in Peoria would have to do the delivery. I knew that if we weren’t 150% prepared, we would definitely be coming home with an Illinois-born kid. (not that that’s a bad thing, that’s where i’m from. we just didn’t exactly want to have to deal with all that.)

So once we got home from our weekend in Peoria (did i ever tell you about that trip? it was awesome – i’ll have to get to that in another post.) it was full-on wait and see mode. Fast forward 1 week, and that’s where things get interesting.

On Friday, October 19, my mucous plug started coming out. TMI, you say? Sorry – this is a post about pushing out a kid. It’s nasty business. Now I had seen this before Della was born too, a full 16 days before my due date with her. She was then born 8 days later. So once I saw it this time, I thought ok, maybe we have another week? I was 38w6d pregnant on that Friday, though, so I highly doubted I’d last another whole week, but who could say. It did automatically kick me into high gear, however. I did laundry, did some last-minute house cleaning, and made sure every single hospital/newborn thing we needed was packed and ready to go. I also alerted my mom, who I had on call since we all got back from Peoria. Our plan was to have her come up to stay with Della while I had the baby, assuming she could arrive in time. She lives almost 2 hours away. Yikes.

Then very early on Sunday morning, October 21, I was awakened by a contraction. It was about 1:30 am, and I was 39w1d pregnant. Ok, this might be it, I thought. The contractions kept coming about half an hour apart for the rest of that night/morning, until I finally got up around 7 and told Ryan I thought I’d better call my mom up. He looked a little scared as I explained that I’d been having contractions for the better part of the night, then said something along the lines of ok, I guess this is it. Yep, here we go again…

I got up, texted my mom that it was most likely show time, she responded that she would be on the road shortly, and I hopped in the shower. Fortunately I had gotten that last bit of cleaning and laundry done on Friday, so I pretty much just waited for the pain to kick in more; the morning Della was born, I did laundry and a bunch of chores, probably to keep my mind off the awful pain I was experiencing yet ignoring. Smart.

My mom arrived at our house shortly after 9 am, which was like record time. Fortunately I hadn’t woken her up, since my aunt, uncle, and cousins were at their house that weekend for a half marathon my cousins were running in Chicago, so they were all up and getting ready to leave the house anyway. Ryan had left to run an errand that unfortunately was going to take him a good hour to hour and a half, so I was just praying that things didn’t progress too quickly just yet. The last thing I wanted was to have to go to the hospital without him!

Then the day just kind of slowed down. My contractions got progressively more intense, but their consistency was pretty much nonexistent. I had called the after hours line for my doctor’s office since it was a Sunday to see when they wanted me to come in, because I wasn’t sure if the rules were different with the group B strep. The nurse spoke to the on-call doctor and said for me to go to the hospital when my contractions were 5 minutes apart for half an hour. Ok, cool, will do. Let the timing game begin.

All morning and into the afternoon the contractions would get closer and closer together, but never for a full half hour, then just suddenly disappear. Oh great, this isn’t going to happen today after all, I kept thinking. We took some “last day pregnant” pictures with Della, tried to explain to her that Mama and Daddy might have to go get the baby today so she wasn’t freaked out if we all of a sudden up and left, and basically just let her have fun playing with Grandma. Then finally around 2 pm they started to come closer and closer together at their strongest intensity of the day. Ok, now we’re getting somewhere.

Della had just gone down for her nap when Ryan and I loaded up the car and headed to the hospital around 2:45 and got checked in and settled into the triage room right about 3 pm. This was a whole different world than I experienced with Della’s birth. That day was a whirlwind of racing to the hospital, getting wheeled up to the labor and delivery floor because I could neither walk nor talk at that point, rushing into a delivery room, Ryan going back out to the car to get the bag/pillow/camera right as the baby was about to come out, and us having zero idea what was going on. This day was infinitely more relaxed. From waiting at home all day until the contractions progressed far enough, to me not trying to clamp my butt cheeks together the entire ride to the hospital and actually enjoying it, to walking myself right up to the L&D floor, to hanging out in the waiting room for a bit, to having plenty of time to answer all of the nurse’s questions in the triage room, to walking myself over to the delivery room with our bag, to just knowing what to expect period.

So now we were in the delivery room, and we continued to play the waiting game. They got me hooked up to the IV and administered the first dose of penicillin, and we watched some football. When the nurse checked me in the triage room I was 5 cm dilated, which made me happy because I was hoping for 4 cm. The contractions hadn’t been nearly as painful as I’d remembered everything being before Della was born, so I was really hoping I was far enough along to not have to be sent back home.

I progressed nicely on my own then, at a pace of about 1 cm an hour. The nurse asked what I thought about pain management, if any, and I explained that I wanted to try to go as far as I could on my own since I’d done it once before with no meds. I knew I could get an epidural if needed, which I didn’t really want but wasn’t totally averse to either. She said there was another option, which was a morphine-type drug they could put in my IV to just take the edge off, and I said that sounded like something I’d try before the epidural for sure. So they ordered both, just in case. She explained that the IV drug needed to be given before I reached 8 cm, though, or else we ran the risk of the baby being really sleepy and potentially a little unresponsive when it was born. Ok, I could handle that.

Finally I reached about 7 cm, and things were getting pretty painful. I asked for the IV drug, and it was the best decision I made that day. I instantly felt almost drunk, and my entire body was able to relax. I no longer needed to even breathe through the contractions; I could just lie there, watch the numbers go up and up and up on the contraction monitor, and laugh. Yeah, you think you’re still causing me pain? Not a chance, contractions. I’m on cloud nine right now. Bring on 8 more kids! (no, not really. this drug was just that good.)

I was honestly about to fall asleep when the nurse, resident doctor, and medical student came in and said they had spoken to my doctor, she was on her way, and it was time to break my water. Well crap. Nice timing, dudes. It was about 6:30 pm at this point. So they broke my water, which took a little while because there were apparently more layers than they anticipated, and then things took a turn for the worse. I think it was a combination of the pain meds wearing off (the nurse said they would last roughly an hour) and the contractions getting stronger and closer together once my water had been broken all happening at the same time, because all of a sudden I got incredibly nauseous, sweaty, clammy, and felt like I was going to pass out. Fortunately I neither barfed nor fainted, and that weird feeling passed after a few minutes.

But holy hell were those contractions getting awful. Finally after a couple more I called the nurse back in and said they were getting really painful and I felt kind of like I needed to start pushing, so my doctor and the others came back in and got all set up. By that point I was starting to feel really weak too, so instead of keeping my feet just in the little steps they’d pulled out, I asked for the full leg stirrups to hold them up for me. There was no way I could do that myself anymore; my legs were too shaky.

So my doctor, the resident, and the med student all pulled up their chairs for ring-side seats, while Ryan stayed behind my right shoulder like he did with Della and let me squeeze the shit out of his hand. He tried talking to me for a bit, but I just told him to be quiet please – I had to just stare at the ceiling and breathe as these things crushed my insides. Finally I told them this REALLY hurt, and they said ok, then go ahead and start pushing with the next contraction.

Now, when Della was born, the doctor and nurses in that room guided me through every contraction, push, breath, etc. I needed that! I had no idea what was going on that time. But this time, they just sat there like I was an expert or something. So I tried to remember what to do – feel the contraction come, take a deep breath in, blow it out, another breath in, hold it, push, count to 10, and do it again 3 times. Well, that first pushing contraction I could only push twice before it was over and I was spent. Before the next one came I asked if I was doing it right, mainly just to get them to say something.

My doctor said yes, I was doing it exactly right, and if I tried putting my chin to my chest and kind of curling my body around the baby it could help guide it out more. Oh yeah, chin to chest. I forgot that part. So I tried that tactic for the next couple contractions, and I think 2 rounds later little Miss Lana Marie came screaming into the world. That last push when I could feel her head come out I just kept pushing and pushing and pushing with everything I had until I literally felt her entire body just tumble out. I had my eyes closed at that point and was just trying to get the baby all the way out before my body gave out and I would have to try again, because I didn’t think I was going to be able to survive another contraction. So I didn’t see that she came out with the umbilical cord wrapped around her neck twice, but they must have gotten that off her in half a second because by the time I opened my eyes, looked down, and saw her come flailing into my arms, she was screaming like nobody’s business. And with a full head of black hair! I couldn’t believe that. No wonder I had such nasty heartburn the whole time I was pregnant.

But before I looked down to see her, Ryan said “It’s a girl” and I almost died. We had another little girl!! I couldn’t believe it. I was so thrilled that we gave Della a sister. Plus, as you know, I was sure again that it was a boy. I said if we have another kid, I’m not even going to say what I think it’ll be because I’m obviously always wrong.

I seriously was in a euphoric shock that we had another baby girl. I was so exhausted and relieved that that was all over. I was crying a little (and i think ryan was too), and just lying there totally spent. I kept laughing and saying how happy I was that that part was over, and Ryan kept saying “I can only imagine.” My body started shaking like I had severe shivers, but the nurse said that was completely normal with all the hormones racing around and leaving my body. They asked if we had a name for her, and I couldn’t even get it out – I had Ryan tell them her beautiful name, Lana Marie.

For those curious, Ryan came up with the name Lana, just a few weeks before she was born. We struggled mightily with both a boy’s and girl’s name this time. One night he was just listing off some names and said “Lana. How about Lana Marie?” and we both instantly loved it. And Marie is my middle name (which came from my great-grandmother’s middle name). Voila.

I held her for a minute or two before they took her over to the warming bed to get cleaned off, weighed, and measured, and Ryan went over to begin the paparazzi attack. Fortunately I only had a small tear that they needed to stitch up, so they took care of me at that same time. The bed in the delivery room was positioned so that I was looking right at Lana’s little bed, so I was able to watch everything they were doing. That was really cool for me, because I didn’t see them doing any of that when Della was born. We had been in a different delivery room that time, and her little station was more off to my side. Plus with Della I just wanted to lie there and do nothing, whereas this time I knew basically how I was going to feel and was ready to watch the baby instead.

Lana Marie Rau was born at 7:24 pm, almost exactly 4 hours after we arrived at the hospital. I think I deserve a gold star for getting there in the perfect amount of time for them to administer the penicillin that I needed. We asked the nurse after Lana was born how long I pushed, too, and she looked over at the chart and said “Oh, about 8 minutes.” Most excellent!

So after Lana was all done with her newborn stuff, they handed her back to me and I began nursing her right away. Let me tell you – this kid has been able to eat from the start. She stayed on there pretty much the whole time we stayed in the delivery room before heading up to the mom and baby floor, which was probably a good hour. Chow down, kiddo, chow down. And speaking of chowing down, I knew that after delivery this time I was going to have Ian’s pizza, since it is right across the street from the hospital. Ryan ran out to get us each 2 slices, and I think that was the best pizza I have ever tasted. Much better than the gross hospital food cheeseburger and french fries I had after Della was born that tasted like nothing.

We waited a little while before sharing the news, just to let it soak in for ourselves, then the texting, emailing, calling, and picture sharing began in earnest. Since it was pretty late by the time we got settled up in our recovery room, my mom just kept Della home that night. Ryan went home around 10:30-11 I think, and I had them take Lana to the nursery. We did that with Della, too, and it worked great. They brought her back in for feedings every couple hours, but that allowed me to get a little sleep and Ryan had his own bed. That first night I just kept thinking “We have 2 little girls now!” I was so happy.

My mom and Ryan brought Della to the hospital to meet her new baby sister the next morning, and she has just been turning into the best big sister ever since that moment. She wanted to give the baby a kiss, which was the greatest thing I’ve ever seen. I think she was a little hesitant to come see me since I was sitting in the hospital bed, but she soon warmed up to everything in the room and was her usual funny little self. Plus I had gotten her an Elmo bag full of little books and crayons and stickers as a big sister present from Lana, so she was excited about that and had something to play with. So we were there until Tuesday evening, because due to the group B strep the pediatrician gave a 48 hour monitoring order for Lana to make sure she was ok. All signs pointed to perfectly healthy, so they actually let us go home an hour or two before the full 48 hour mark. I was definitely ready to get out of that room by that point. Trying to keep Della entertained in there was becoming kind of a chore. I had forgotten how easy it was when she was born since she was the only one to worry about.

So we came home a happy, healthy family of 4 (plus grandma) and have been getting more and more used to life as such every day. My mom stayed with us until the next day, then came back up the following week to help me when Ryan went back to work. Talk about a life saver! This past week was my first week home alone with the 2 little girls, and we all made it through in 1 piece. I’m calling that a success!

That is the story of how Lana Marie came into the world and our lives and hearts. We love you so much, little one! Welcome to our family!

Della inspecting her big sister gift