Sunday, June 21, 2009

Name of the Day.

So, I think we may have a winner. I would like to officially introduce Rowan Noreen Brendle. Rowan which means little red one (fitting because of her "bounteous" strawberry blonde hair) and Noreen (after my grandma Ashman who turned one hundred on the tenth of this month).
Try not to get too attached, it could be something different tomorrow.

Grandma Noreen with several of her great grandkids.

Father's Day.

Here's to a very happy Father's Day to the two most important father's in my life.
My Dad.

Lover of all things golf and music; connisseur of olives, bologna and other questionable lunchmeats; documentary watcher, dictionary reader, master joke teller.

And my Hubby.

Lover of all things golf and Halo; connisseur of Barbacoa, ice cream and other unhealthy delicacies; hater of Home Depot, Lowe's and all things home improvement.

Dad and Chad. Happy Father's Day. I love you both.

Friday, June 19, 2009

...and we're done?

I am happy and relieved to report that baby number five has made her grand debut. I know you are all just dying to hear the gory details so I will oblige.
Seriously, if you are not into birth stories you can bypass this post. Mind you, my blog oft times serves as my journal and this is one of those times. Bare with me.
So, Tuesday morning I had my thirty-nine week doctors appointment. I talked Chad into going with me so that we could discuss the option of induction (my doctor had proposed this if I got to thirty-nine weeks and there was still no baby).
The doctor did all the regular things checked the heartbeat and checked for progress. I was three centimeters dilated and eighty percent effaced. She asked us if we were interested in being induced which at the time I was unsure of...having never been induced before. She sensed my hesitation and pointed out that my uterus had not grown the previous two weeks and that if we decided against the induction she would send me in for an ultrasound within the next few days just to make sure things were okay. Chad and decided to go ahead and shedule the induction (for June 18). We figured if the baby was in fact not growing it would be best to just get her born. Our doctor agreed.
Just before we got up to leave the doctor asked how the baby had been moving. This was the turning point of the day.
I mentioned that I couldn't recall any movement yet that morning, but figured it was because I had been racing around nonstop so I could make it to my 9:30 appointment on time. She suggested that I go have a stress test done just to be safe.
I dragged Chad and Beckham (who had somehow weaseled his way along) downstairs for the stress test and during that time learned that my amniotic fluid (normally between 8 and 22 centimeters) was low...between 3-4 centimeters. The nurse finished the test and suggested I head down to labor and delivery. I got myself registered and settled in a room and waited to hear back from my OB as to whether or not she wanted to just go ahead and induce right then..which she did.
By this time it was around 11 or 11:30. The nurse gave me my IV and Chad ran home to drop Beckham off and grab the suitcase and camera(s). At this point of my long-winded story I must give props to my shiz-a-listic sister and her shiz-a-listic family who took all four dears without any advanced warning. Kay, back to my rivoting narration.
Chad got back to the hospital around 12:30 and the nurse was just hooking me up to my pitocin drip. I started having regular contractions almost immediately and by 3:00ish was already five centimeters dilated and ready for my epidural...the most blessed juice on earth I might add. The OB came in around 4:00 to break my water at which time I found out that I was complete and ready to push. I had one contraction and out baby came. Honestly, after having a nearly nine pound baby she probably coulda just walked out on her own, but...
She looked like such a little peanut, but was 7 lbs. and 14 oz.; 19 inches long and sporting a little bit of strawberry blonde hair...which I eagerly welcomed. Granted it's all in the back...a newborn mullet if you will, but I'll take whatever I can get. We Brendle/Ashman's come from a very long line of baldies. Besides, it's nothing a massive flower headband can't cover up.
The peanut stuggled a little in the beginning to breathe, but everything turned out just fine. She was so quiet and beautiful and Chad and I are completely in love. The kids are too though they have a very "rough" way of showing it. Things will be interesting with "three" moms in the house.
The dear has yet to be named, but to have named her before leaving the hospital would just not be the Brendle way. Hopefully she'll have a proper name by Tuesday...that's when the paperwork is due.
I'd like to conclude by saying thank you to everyone who called, texted, emailed, facebooked, and/or left messages. We are lucky and blessed to have family and friends like you. Too bad I'll be hittin' you all up for babysitting soon.

See a little bit of hair. I wasn't lying.

Chad swears Mick Jagger's the dad.

Sunday, June 14, 2009

Out of the mouth of ...Beckham.

Well, once again my little guy has demonstrated his infatuation with "nipples". Last night whilst sitting on the couch with the entire family, the little guy burst out into a rousing rendition of "bi-nipples, bi-nipples, I like to ride my bi-nipples", sung to the tune of Queens, Bicycle. (Sounds like he's following in the footsteps of a certain older brother who at one time took the artistic liberty of changing the lyrics to another well-known song). Heaven help me.
On the bright side, it was said in the privacy of the home and not during the reverence of the sacrament or around any prominent religious figure.
On the not so bright side, his unhealty preoccupation with nip-lage will most likely be exacerbated by the fact that in a few days I will be nursing a newborn nonstop(hopefully).
Thank goodness for the "nippy hider" or breast feeding cover up I purchased. Methinks it a very good purchase...considering.