Harlow Rose Dickson

Thirteen is a new lucky number in our home.  Our little Harlow Rose Dickson decided to officially join our family this last Saturday, April 13, 2013. After a week that included Sam's "guaranteed" due date prediction, my actual due date,  and two planned and cancelled inductions (thanks to Sam and Ruby catching the stomach flu), I was anxious and very ready to come to the end of our waiting game.

Sadly, I've never recorded anything about the birth of my other children so I thought I'd get this down before it turns into too much of a fuzzy memory.

Early Saturday morning I woke up to what I thought might be real contractions. After so many false alarms from the previous week, I was trying not to get too excited. Sam---who seemed confident at the start of each new day in the previous week that "this was the day"--was once again sure that "this was the day".  I still wasn't convinced and decided to move forward with our regular Saturday routine. This lasted until about breakfast. At that point the contractions started to become more regular and so painful that I was ready to jump on Sam's "this is the day" bandwagon.

After breakfast we started getting our things together and making a plan. My mom's flight was scheduled to come in that morning at the same time the boys were scheduled to have their first day of swim lessons.  I was determined to have them not miss their lesson, but I also wasn't sure I would be able to take them with the increasing frequency of my contractions. I also wasn't too keen on Sam leaving me for an hour and a half to pick up my mom from the airport.  In the end I decided to stay home with Ruby while Sam took the boys to swim lessons and my mom worked on finding a way to head in the direction of the hospital so we could pick her up on the way.

By the time Sam made it back home with the boys, I was definitely ready to go with teeth-gritting-eye-squinting contractions occurring every 3-5 minutes.  The hospital is about 45 minutes from our house, so I was really feeling like we were cutting it close.  In what I am sure was a tender mercy from Heavenly Father, my mom was able to find a bus that would  get her just 10 minutes from the hospital about the same time that we would be arriving. When we arrived at the hospital, Sam helped get me checked in.  After he was sure I was settled, he went with the kids to pick up my mom a few miles away.

For as crazy as our morning had been, the actual timing couldn't have been more perfect--neither could our nurse. She was fast, incredibly efficient, and quite possibly one of the most upbeat, positive and excitable people I have met (big points in my book), and, aside from her frequently referring to me as a "rock star", practically perfect. Not only was she always two steps ahead in all of the preparation for delivery, she also acted like the delivery of my baby girl was the most exciting thing that had happened in that hospital all year.

I often give Sam a hard time about the fact that we don't have a single picture from Max's birth and that of the four pictures we have of Ruby's, three of them are of Ruby with the doctor...and not a single one of him or me with our precious newborn. I think he heard me loud and clear because he went a little paparazzi on me this time. Now I know how I make my kids feel.

When I got there I was already at a 7 and, I felt, managing the pain pretty well. I thought about skipping the epidural, but decided better safe than sorry. Soooo glad I did because I definitely would have been sorry. My labor wasn't long--about 4 hours from the time I got to the hospital, but without a doubt the most horribly painful thing I have ever experienced. In fact, after Harlow was delivered the doctor said, "I'm so glad you didn't try to do that without an epidural...it would have been really horrible."

On my long list of things I had to do before Harlow was born was getting a pedicure. Thankfully Ruby and I finally squeezed it in the day before I was due.  I knew it hadn't all been in vain when the nurse complimented me on how great my toes looked.  Also, did I mention how great Sam was through the whole thing...because he was. If I'm going to include a picture of my toes I can't overlook the one picture I have of the person who kept me from falling apart throughout this experience.

It wasn't until it came time to push that things got really painful. Forty minutes may not seem very long, but when it's something equally exhausting and excruciating, it feels like an eternity. I kept telling Sam, "I don't think I can do this." In fact at one point I asked the doctor, "OK...so what is the next step if this doesn't work?" Even at the time of delivery they didn't have a clue how big my little girl was. Things got a little crazy at the end when they realized she was stuck under my pelvic bone and the nurse had to practically jump on top of me to push on my belly to get her out. They were shocked when they saw how big she was and were immediately taking bets on her weight. (Sorry for the grotesque picture, but I'm trying to keep an accurate record here.)

As awful as the last hour of delivery was, nothing can compare to the amazing euphoric feelings of happiness and relief I experienced when she was finally delivered and dropped into my arms. Even after carrying her for 9 months, I could feel nothing but awe and gratitude that she was actually here. As a four-time mother, you'd think I'd know what to expect from this experience, but the overwhelming and immediate wave of love I feel is something I'm never quite prepared for.

When they first laid Harlow across my chest after delivery, I knew she was no waif. However, I was shocked to see my guess of 10 lbs was significantly off with her weighing in at just 1 oz shy of 11 lbs!

Oh, how I wish I could bottle up how I felt at this moment with my sweet girl. Nothing can compare.

Because I knew things weren't going to take long once I got to the hospital, my mom and kids stayed nearby. In fact, after getting some lunch the nurses let them hang out in what would become my recovery room just a few doors down from the delivery. It was neat to be able to introduce them to their new little sister only 15 minutes after her arrival. Seeing their excitement was definitely a highlight.

Reed's emotions were pure elation, Max was excited but nervous, and Ruby was in awe--I'm sure wondering what this all meant for her.

Reed--love at first sight, again. He was anxious to be the first one to hold her.

 From the look on Harlow's face in this picture it looks like the "checking out" was mutual.

The kids weren't the only ones excited to see Harlow. Not only was my mom one of the first to hold Harlow, but she was also the closest in guessing her correct weight. About 7 months into my pregnancy my mom said she thought I was going to have an 11 lb baby. Looks like she wasn't too far off. I'm not sure if she is so happy in this picture because she was right or because I had joined her in the ranks of the 10 lb 15 oz baby club. 

Sam was thrilled when it was finally his turn to hold Harlow.

 Our family of six! I may have looked a wreck, but I sure felt blessed.

Welcome Harlow Rose! Our family needed you. So glad you are finally here.