Flashbacks: pregnancy and Jordan

I'm watching my baby sleep.  She's wearing a blue onesie with two pink birds and pink and white striped pants. Every once in awhile, she'll let out a deep sigh that lets me know she is sleeping soundly.  And then, every once in awhile, she'll sound like a dinosaur to let me know that shes restless.

I stare at her face and she's so pretty and perfect, and I can't believe she's mine. But instead of focusing on the present, I look at her and see monitors.

I'm strapped to the monitors, listening to her heartbeat and watching the machine pump out a strip that details her heart rate, her movements, and my contractions. Three times a week. I hear the busy nurses out in the hallway, tending to patients and making phone calls. A flat screen tv is to my left and the Food Network is on. I watch it, all the while extremely aware of how many times my baby is moving. Will she pass today?

I look at my baby and I see ultrasounds. Twice a week. I hold my breath during BPPs and hope that I leave with good news.  Her growth scans cause me even more anxiety.  I know every time I go, her growth will have slowed down.  At the end, it was practically at a standstill when she should have been growing by leaps and bounds. I see her on the screen, shielding her face by throwing her arms over it. I almost like it this way, like seeing her face will be a great surprise when she is born.

I hold my baby and I think of the weekly progesterone shots that were supposed to prevent preterm labor.  Without them, would I have gone into labor earlier than 34 weeks? Would I have delivered her as a micro-preemie, like her brothers?  What would her fate have been?

Sometimes she will smile at me, or let out a laugh in her sleep. "Ha, ha, ha!," she'll say to me. And I'll smile back at her, and then remember how her heart rate slowed down while I pushed to get her out. I remember being rushed into the OR and the nurses shielding the monitors from me. I remember her crying as they lifted her up over the blue curtain so that I could see my girl. She was so tiny. I remember my first question was "Is she okay?" but my first thought was "OMG. She is so tiny."  Dr. D, who delivered her, would tell me at my postpartum appointment, "I remember she didn't like labor... well, more like the pushing..." and he stared at her in amazement.  I know what he was thinking. How is she here, full term and healthy?

I think of the fertility treatments we went through. Our loss with our boys. A struggle to get back to normalcy. Throwing myself back into fertility treatments. Our chances of success with her cycle? Twenty percent. And she is here.

Maybe someday, I will stop looking at her and thinking of the struggle, the pain, and the anxiety of trying to get her here. But that has not passed just yet.

She is still sleeping in her pink rocker, her hair standing up and her arms down at her side for once. Her cheeks are chubby and full, very unlike the day she was born. I know she will wake up soon and fuss, but the minute I pick her up she will calm down. I cannot wait for her to wake up, kiss her chubby cheeks, and tell her how much I love her.

We walk for Conner and Benjamin

It's that time of year again. No, not Christmas, thank God.  Although should I be thanking God that it isn't the season of Christ's birth?

Face palms, everywhere. 

The day that I was told I would be delivering my boys with no hope of their survival, I thought of what I wanted the aftermath to be like.  At first, I wanted everything to be over and done with.  I wanted to go home, hide, cry, and never speak to anyone about what happened.  I was ashamed.  I failed, and now my boys were paying the ultimate price for it. 

But after a few days, I knew that my boys would need a voice in this world and that I was the only person who could be their voice.  I wanted their legacy not to be of grief, but of love. 

We are walking again in the March for Babies in honor of Conner and Benjamin.  Last year, we were the third highest family team in terms of donations in Chicago.  That is HUGE!!!  We are so happy that we were able to make such a difference in memory of our baby boys.  The March of Dimes funds research to prevent preterm labor as well as support families and babies during NICU stays. While we could not save our boys, we want to do everything we can to prevent tragedies like ours happening to others. 

Unfortunately this year, I have found that the response to us walking this year has been extremely low.  Most people are not walking with us again, and most people are not donating again this year.  I expected this, and I completely understand that people cannot always donate money or do not always have the time to do things. But I want to put something into perspective...

Likes on FB for Jordans pictures - hundreds. 

Likes on FB for Conner and Ben/March of Dimes - eight. 

EIGHT. 

Seems as though I'm not doing as good of a job using my voice as last year. 

Okay, I think I'm rambling. That isn't the point.  The point is, response be damned, we are walking again this year.  Every penny helps. 

We are asking our friends and family to help us raise money to help save other babies.  Maybe someday, babies born at 22 weeks gestation will have a chance of survival - and hopefully, they will thrive. If you would like to donate to our team, you can go to: 

https://www.marchforbabies.org/connerandben

"Their tiny feet go before us to show us the way home."

With my sincerest love and thanks,

Krystal 

Welcome to the longest one month update ever for a baby who mostly poops

Someone please explain to me how my Jordan Breanne is already one month old? Did we not just bring her home from the hospital last week? I mean, I literally just sent out her birth announcements like 3 days before her one month birthday. Bad mommy!

I totally get that no one will read this in its entirety (and that is okay with me). But I'm going to put this in her baby book (well, an edited version), so I figured I might as well write it all out now, right? Mommy multitasking.

She wouldn't keep the sticker on her :)

Same outfit, 3 days old, the day we took her home.  "Mommy, I don't fit!"

ONE MONTH

Weight: 8 pounds, 4 ounces (up from 5 pounds, 3 ounces)

Length: 20.5 inches (up from 18.5 inches)

Head: 34 (up from 31.5)
She has gone from the .45th percentile to the 15th in weight!  How nuts is that?!

Clothing size: Newborn.  I will cry when you grow out of this size, no doubt. 

Eye color: Gray (grey?). I could get lost in those eyes!

Hair: Dark, like mommy's.  In natural daylight, it is a dark brown.  However, due to the never ending winter we seem to be having, we rarely leave the house. 

EAT

BREASTFEEDING.  If there were some kind of weird breastfeeding competition among newborns, she would win, hands down.  It came so naturally to her (and, surprisingly, to me).  This isn't to say that breastfeeding isn't hard - physically, it is exhausting. BF hormones make you tired when your baby nurses, so I practically knock out when she nurses at night. Pinterest keeps my attention during late night feedings so that I don't fall asleep with Jordan in my arms. I can't see myself stopping anytime soon, though. Jordan loves it way too much. I know her cues and she knows mine.  This smart little girl will even stop when I ask her if she's done.  I can tell when she's done - she will start to nod off. I'll say, "Jordan, are you done?" and at that exact moment, she will delatch herself. Works every time. 

BOTTLE. The lactation consultant at the hospital suggested starting her at two weeks so that she has time to get used to it, and so that it won't be a struggle to transition her later. We started using Tommy Tippee, which I had bought for the boys.  The nipple on the Tommy Tippee bottles practically drowned my baby though, and Jordan would not drink from it. Luckily, I was prepared for this - I had also bought the Munchkin Latch starter set and she will drink from those bottles.  I can't say enough about these bottles - they are new on the market and support breastfeeding. The slow flow nipples are indeed slow flow - she takes just as long to feed from the bottle as she does when I nurse her. Added bonus - she has yet to spit up from taking these bottles, which is common when babies are being fed too fast or when they are taking in too much air. She is always hesitant to take the bottle at first, and it usually takes a few tries before she really starts to drink from it, but she always finishes happily. When she is more comfortable with the bottle, I'll feel a bit more ready to go out and do things and possibly leave her with a sitter (although I am a control freak, so maybe not). 

My heart hurt seeing her with a bottle, but I know she needs to learn

SLEEP
NOISE. Grunts, Dolphin noises. Random vocalization. She is the noisiest dreamer ever. She must go through like, 20 cycles of REM between nursing. Any other person would think this baby was awake, but I know better.

MOMMY AND DADDY. Sleep is a luxury.  Some nights we get it, some nights we dont't.  Tim is having the most trouble with this, even though I'm the one nursing her and being flooded with hormones that make you relaxed and sleepy. When I have tried to wake Tim up to help me with Jordan, he has:

tried to burp his pillow. Threw it over his shoulder and everything.
taken his pillow out of the cover and told me he was getting her ready because he didn't want her to spit up on her pajamas. He then proceeded to be pissed at me when I told him that his pillow was not the baby.
handed me his pillow, telling me that I would need it while he was changing Jordan's diaper.  To this day, he still doesn't remember what he thought was so valuable in his pillow.
tried to undress me when I told him that Jordan needed a change of outfit after she spit up.

SLEEP THROUGH NIGHT. We had to wake her every 3 hours to feed her (which was easy -change her diaper, which she needed anyway, and she would wake up hungry). Most doctors will say this is necessary to establish milk supply and make sure baby is regaining her birthweight/growing properly. But at 3.5 weeks, I decided to let her decide when she was hungry. The first night, she only woke up once to nurse - so she was on a 4 hour cycle.  Oh. My. Goodness.  Do you know what it's like to have a newborn, sleep 4 hours, change her diaper, nurse her for 20 minutes, burp her, and go back to sleep for 4 hours? IT'S LIKE HEAVEN.  I feel like a brand new woman. When we were waking her, there were cranky parents and cranky baby who thought that being awake at 2 am was not only normal, but good and acceptable.

FIGHT THE POWER, MOMMY. Much like in her ultrasounds, she loves having her arms and hands by her face when she sleeps... she will randomly shoot her arm up in the air as if to say, "fight the power!" Um, what power exactly, Jordan?

SMILES AND LAUGHS. She may make a lot of noise while she sleeps, but she seems to be a happy dreamer.  Very often, I'll look over at her and she'll be smiling.  She also laughs randomly in her sleep ("ha, ha, ha, hahahaha").  Within her first few days home, I was watching Mean Girls.  After Lindsay Lohan says, "he's almost too gay to function," Miss Jordan let out a laugh. Awesome.

All. The. Time. 

LIKES

BATHTIME. Not to be confused with sponge baths, which she hated. But bathtime is so warm and Jordan hates being cold.  Poor baby shivers when she is out of the bath, but nothing a good elephant hooded towel can't fix.

Okay, so she doesn't look happy here, but omg - cutest screaming elephant ever. 

CAR RIDES. Instant naptime. Need I say more?

When your baby doesn't fit in her carseat, you have to surround her with rolled up blankets. Bonus: green "crotch towel" soaks up pee if she chooses to potty through her diaper. 

TUMMY TIME. She is super comfortable on her belly, and I try to give her tummy time after her diaper changes. She screams as she tries to move her head to where she wants it to be out of frustration, but relaxes as soon as she can see mommy again. She has also learned how to move her body in a circle. She'll kick her feet and move her legs like she is getting ready to crawl, but since she hasn't mastered using her arms to move forward, what happens is that she starts out parallel on her mat and then ends up being perpendicular to it - kind of like a brake dancer spinning in a circle.

"Jordan, why are you so quiet.... oh. You're asleep."

BEING BURPED. She often falls asleep during burp time. And check out these faces - I mean, if this is not one content and relaxed little girl, I don't know what is. 

3 days old, loving burp time

DISLIKES

BEING NAKED.  Miss Jordan is so very modest.  However, this totally sucks when we have to change her diaper (10-12 times a day) or change her clothes (2-5 times a day).  She will often protest, but the minute you are done changing her she is back to being a calm baby.  We think she gets cold too easily, so her changing pad is actually on the floor. There is a vent cover over the heating vent in the nursery that directs air so that is horizontal to the floor, and so baby girl is actually getting changed in the warmest part of her room now.

BABY WIPES. They are cold. She screams at me when I use them, especially if I have to use them on her arms because she soaked herself in spit up.  I know everyone says those wipe warmers are a waste of money, but seriously... it might be a good investment for little miss dramatic. 

CARSEAT.  This is not to be confused with car rides.  Jordan will scream at you the entire time you put her into her car seat, which is quite the ordeal with her.  Because she was born so little, she needs additional body support to keep her snug and safe.  So, she is surrounded by rolled up hospital blankets. Cute, right?  Not really. It adds time to getting her in her seat, which makes her scream more. But the second she is strapped in and her daddy picks the carseat up, she falls asleep - hard. Like, comatose. It's actually pretty scary, and during car rides I frequently poke her face to make sure she is still breathing. 

ACCOMPLISHMENTS

TUMMY TIME PRO.  She loves it.  She may scream when we put her on her stomach, but only because she so desperately wants to move her head back and forth - when she finally moves her head to where she wants it to be, she calms down.

"Whatcha doin, Jordan?"

HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION.  Not really, but if she keeps growing at the rate she's growing, we are going to have an obese baby.  That is quite the feat, considering she was once diagnosed with IUGR!

POOPING WONDER. For real. Down her back. On her clothes. Projectile while changing her. She fills her diapers 10-12 times a day with poop.  I can hear her pooping right now.

SELF-SOOTHER. You'll hear her scream once or twice in her Rock n' Play, then settle down.  No pacifier necessary (she actually hates them).

JAUNDICE. Before we left the hospital, Jordan looked a bit, well, yellow.  They tested her bili levels and it came back low to moderately low risk, so they sent her home. Her first appointment at the pediatrician showed that her bili levels had risen and she was *this* close to having to go under the lights.  Poor baby, she looked so sick. But then they tested her again the next day and her bili levels were lower - she was getting rid of it on her own :)

DEAR JORDAN

Dear Ms. Jordan Breanne, 

I've been told time and time again that babies grow quickly.  Don't blink, they say.  She'll be grown up before you know it.  In my head, I would think, "I know, I know.  Babies grow fast."  But good grief, I didn't realize how fast until we brought you home.  Remind me to never roll my eyes at that saying again. The day we were discharged from the hospital, your daddy put you in a preemie outfit.  I took one look at you and declared that the preemie outfit was too small (to which your daddy admitted that it was quite the struggle to get the outfit on). So, we put you in a newborn outfit.  You weren't just swimming in the outfit - you were drowning in it.  Extra fabric seemed to engulf you. Now, not only are you comfortably wearing newborn sizes, but I am seriously contemplating putting you in your 0-3 month clothing.  I can't even right now. How is this happening?  Every time your grandparents or your auntie sees you, they notice the change in your weight and your length.  You don't even look like the same baby anymore!  And it gets me fast forwarding to when you are in high school and you hate me for not letting you stay out late, or your wedding day when you're undoubtedly going insane from all the marital day chaos that is going on around you. What will you look like then?  Will you keep growing like you are now?  If so, you will be a giant.  At some point, you will need to slow your roll, sweetheart. I guess it's really my fault that you keep on growing, though. I'm the one who keeps feeding you!

In these past couple of weeks, you have found your voice and love to use it.  A quiet Jordan is often hard to come by, even when you are sleeping.  You sound like a dolphin.  Seriously. If I took you to Sea World dressed up as a dolphin, I wouldn't be able to leave with you.  Security would stop me at the gates and I would be arrested for trying to steal marine wildlife. 

You also tend to get the hiccups frequently, just like you did when I was pregnant with you. Your eyes get wide, but they don't seem to bother you too much.  I hold you and sing, "hiccups, hiccups go away, come again another day." You sit there contently, and usually when your hiccups are gone you are hungry again.  Oh, life must be so easy for you. Hiccup, eat. Burp. Sleep. Poop. Sleep some more. Make some dolphin noises. 

During my entire pregnancy with you, I was on edge. I held my breath, waiting for you to get here safe and sound. Every time I look at you, I remind myself what a true miracle it is that you are here. I think of the day you were born and how you didn't cry right away.  We waited what seemed like minutes for you to cry.  In reality, it was probably only about five seconds until you started wailing at everyone.  It was one of the most beautiful sounds I have ever heard and prompted both myself and your daddy to start crying as well.  Last night, your daddy said something about us living in the moment with you.  While we can't wait for you to start sitting up, play with your toys, laugh at our jokes, or start talking, we also know that you will never be this little again.  

I'm taking in every second of you. Just do mommy a favor and don't grow up too fast, okay?

Two weeks old

Bonus: First Month picture outtakes 

Get this thing off of me!

I wanna eat! 

.... so I'll eat this sticker. 

Holy crap, I'm one month old?!

Newborn pictures

I'll let the pictures speak for themselves :)

For more, you can visit: http://sarahcudneyphotography.com/2015/02/27/baby-jordan/

My favorite

Sweet footprints and daddy's FD gear

Just like mommy

Taylor 110 guitar - given to me in honor of Conner and Benjamin's birthday, January 10th

Baby Blues and 2 week update

Her brothers always watch over her. 

I had all kinds of ideas of what it would be like to hold my baby girl and know that I was bringing her home.  I would be so filled with love and joy that nothing else could ever occupy my mind.  I soon realized how wrong I would be, though. The night before discharge, I had a complete breakdown.  I was in a tremendous amount of pain from the c section, which I chalked up to trying to do too much too fast.  I saw my husband in my hospital room, holding Jordan, rocking her to sleep.  I lost it.  I couldn't hold my baby, rock her, burp her, change her... all because of how much pain I was in.  All I could do was feed her, and her daddy did the rest.  I felt like such a failure as a mother.  My baby would cry, and I couldn't even reach out and pick her up from her bassinet.  I realized I had no idea what soothed my baby when she cried, because I could barely sit up in my own bed without assistance.  I started thinking horrible things, like how my baby deserved so much better - she deserved a better mother. 

So I bawled my eyes out, just in time for my nurse to walk in with my pain medication.  She stopped short in her tracks and asked me what was wrong.  I just shook my head and cried.  After a few minutes, I was finally able to tell her I was in pain and that I couldn't take care of my baby.  She sat down on my bed and explained to me how lucky I was that I had my husband there, and that I had just had major surgery and no one expected me to be able to do all of these things that I was crying about. 

I cried harder. I couldn't even blow my damn nose because it hurt my abdomen so much, so I was a wreck. 

So my nurse said she wanted to share something with me that she didn't usually tell people - the other nurses weren't even aware. She told me that she had three sons at home, but her first baby - a boy, was stillborn over 20 years ago.  She shared this with me because she knew about Conner and Benjamin, and she suspected that my pain wasn't just physical - it was psychosomatic. She knew it must have been hard for me to be in the same hospital I had my twins in and subsequently lost them in.  We talked, in the middle of the night, with just the dim light on over my bed.  My husband stood to my right, holding our baby girl, trying not to cry. We talked about how people don't understand how our babies still count and how much we still hurt over our loss, despite the babies we had after our sons. And just like that, this nurse was my friend. I kept wondering how I was supposed to take care of Jordan when I couldn't take care of Conner or Benjamin. I told her how another nurse remarked that she wanted us to have our "happy ending" and to have "closure" and how offended I was that she thought that Jordan being here meant that her brothers never existed. She mentioned that she was glad I told her that; she would have to bring it up at a meeting so that the labor and delivery nurses could go through more training on how to be sensitive about the subject of loss. Through my tears, my pain subsided. She must have been right.  Just talking about the boys helped ease my physical pain.  

Communication.  See what it can do?  We both cried there as we shared our stories and our frustrations over being so misunderstood. We both were so sad that we felt that we couldn't talk about our sons openly to other people because we were afraid of what they might say or think. But we talked to each other, and it was like therapy. And through sharing what I went through the day Jordan was born, maybe nurses will be more sensitive and think twice before saying such hurtful things to mothers who have experienced loss. I have to urge all mothers who have had a loss to open up about it.  It is such a stigma to have lost a child.  It is taboo.  No one wants to address it, so no one knows how to react to it.  It's a vicious cycle that only we can break. 

She said something (among many things) that will stick with me: Jordan is my priority now, but I will always love and remember my sons.  She is right. I can't take care of my boys.  I have to trust that God is doing that for me.  I can do things in remembrance of them and in honor of them, but Jordan has to be my priority now.  It doesn't mean that I love her more than my boys or that I won't always think of my boys.  But I have to take care of my baby girl right now, and part of that means that I have to try to find a way to accept that I cannot take care of Conner and Benjamin. I don't know if I will ever truly accept that, and I will struggle my whole life trusting that they are okay and safe in the arms of Jesus. 

I'll never forget my nurse and how after our talk, she took Jordan up to the nursery for her carseat test.  She picked up my little girl, gave her a kiss on the head, and told her she was going to go to the nursery with Auntie for a little bit. She gave me the biggest hug and kissed my head and we cried together. On her way out, she said she hoped that our boys were all playing together up in heaven.  I said I think they are. We both agreed that the thought of them together made us feel better. She will always be my favorite nurse and I will always think of her when I think of Jordan's birth story. 

I do want to add a little bit of happy in here, too.  I feel better now. At Jordan's last weight check (at 11 days old), she was 5 pounds, 12 ounces - 9 ounces more than her birth weight!  She is growing quickly - she has already outgrown her preemie diapers and we are now using newborn diapers on her.  Also, her newborn outfits that she used to be swimming in (see below for her "take home" outfit) are beginning to fit her... I can't believe it.  I mean, c'mon. She's two weeks old.  How is she outgrowing anything??? But here we are, holding our baby who is noticeably heavier and watching her literally grow everyday.  My doctors weren't kidding - they said once she was born, she would catch up in size quickly.  I feel accomplished, like I am finally doing something right - my baby is thriving, happy, and healthy. 

"Mommy, I look ridiculous"

I am recovering quickly as well.  The nurses at the hospital told me that they knew right away who my OBs were just by looking at my c section incision - they say that my two doctors do the best c sections in the entire hospital.  My incision is paper thin.  I barely notice it.  I stopped taking pain meds at 6 days, only needing them at night because I'm sore from moving all day. I gained a total of 23 pounds in this pregnancy, and the day we were discharged I had already lost 11 pounds.  As of yesterday (day 13), I had lost an additional 4 pounds.  Eight more pounds to go!  And once the swelling subsides completely from the surgery, I should see a bigger difference.  My hips are wider now tough, and I'm still in my beloved yoga pants. Seems like a weird way to end this blog post but Jordan is fussing and mommy needs to pick up her baby :)

Jordan's dramatic, terrifying, no, wonderful, birth story

Written by a sore, bruised, and exhausted mother.  Forgive my horrible story telling and multiple grammatical errors.

Well, I was promised a baby by early afternoon and my doctor delivered (pun intended). I mean, all I had to do was finish what I started. The nurses who saw me and the resident OB explained that "all doctors promise early deliveries" to make moms optimistic. No one expected me to have this baby before dinner. Mmmmhhhhmmmm. They must have not realized who my doctors were. They were always right.

I'll give you the short version of events from 9 am to 12 pm. Picotin - ouch, man. But I remained the girl oblivious to her contractions, weirdly enough until the epidural. My epidural with the boys took like 30 seconds. I didn't feel a thing. I expected similar results this time around. Nope. Nope. Oh my sweet baby Jesus was I wrong. That biotch missed the first time, sending a searing pain down my left leg. Apparently, I have a mild case of scoliosis. Once the epidural worked, my contractions came close together and I really felt them... of course. No epidural, I'm pain free. Epidural, and I'm in pain. The morning was still relatively boring.  We watched a lot of HGTV and made fun of the people who said things like "I only want to spend about 1.2 million on this house."  Screw you.

The nurse checked my progress around noon. She sent this text message to my OB: "complete and plus 3. Get here ASAP." And, no kidding, I swear my doctor made his way into the room about 5 minutes later.  I joked that he must have been down the street at Portillo's getting food. My nurse joked that she had to eat her words.  I was, in fact, having this baby by early afternoon.

Anyway, so I pushed. Labor went quickly. Baby moved quickly. And then her heart rate dropped. No big deal, it happens sometimes. She was still in a healthy range for her heart rate.

We took a break and let the picotin work a little more, since my contractions were getting milder.

Pushed some more. And her heart rate dropped some more. They think that her umbilical cord must have been getting compressed every time I pushed. I couldn't watch, and yet I couldn't look away from the monitors.  80.. 70... 50.... and then it dropped more...

My OB: "I don't like this. You've come too far...."  I knew what that meant. We have come too far to lose this baby now.  Cue the waterworks. Over to the OR we go. I think I started crying as they handed Tim blue scrubs and told him to grab the camera. They wheeled me out in a hurry, telling him that someone would take him there when they were ready for him. I think he kissed my forehead goodbye and told me not to worry. I asked the nurse how fast we could get this baby out.  Fast, she assured me. I was worried I wouldn't see my daughter alive.

Earlier, my nurse told me to stop watching her vitals (this is my baby lady, let me watch her heart rate).  She said to let them worry about it, and if something bad happened then a team of 15 people would come running into the room - and then I would have the right to worry. So when they wheeled me into the OR for the emergency c-section and I saw a team of about 15 people, my heart rate skyrocketed (enough for them to move the monitors out of the way so that I wouldn't watch them). I remember asking them if I would feel anything. My OB assured me all I would feel was pressure.  I had a new, nicer, anesthesiologist. The draped the blue sheet over me so I couldn't see, did a "test" to make sure I didn't feel pain, grabbed Tim from the hallway, and soon we were on our way to meeting our little girl. A few minutes later...

"Here comes baby!" Seriously, already?

"Its a girl! That's what they ordered!" Duh.

Then... "She has a ton of hair!" followed by me smiling and screaming, "she does?!" Just what I wanted. Then came her little whine, followed by her strong and steady cry. I bawled my eyes out when I heard her.  She was breathing. I have never head any of my children cry up until that point.

"Is she okay?"

"I think so.... she's pink!" My OB said.

She came to me, perfectly tiny, a miniature version of me and a big bundle of love. She was crying and clearly annoyed by the team of people who pulled her from her home. But then I said hi to her, and she instantly calmed down. She knew my voice. She knew me. They laid her on my chest and she practically army crawled to my breast and started nursing (and I have the pictures to prove it!). Later,  a nurse would tell me that my milk coming in early was a gift from my boys; milk arrives earlier in second and subsequent pregnancies.

We named her Jordan Breanne the minute we saw her.  I still wasn't sure about her name, but this had the most meaning to us.  Tim and I picked out three baby names years and years ago, when we first started dating: Conner, Parker, and Jordan.  Jordan was our name for a girl.  We both said we wanted a unisex name for a girl, and we both said "I like Jordan" at the same time.  So we have had this name on reserve for quite awhile. Breanne has even more meaning to us - it is made up of letters from Benjamin and Conner's names.  She was almost Jordan Cameron, but I couldn't give her two unisex names.  That would be cruel - no one would be able to look at her name and tell whether or not she was a girl or a boy. She was almost Charlotte Jordan - but the popularity of Charlotte made me back away from it.

My OB joked that he was getting a workout stitching me back up - my abdominal muscles were tight and I was in good shape. Great, I thought - because I'm planning on taking my baby to the Caribbean in about 7 months! Apparently, in my heart, I knew she was okay.

After skin to skin, they took her to the nursery with Tim close behind. I'm not even sure if we said goodbye to each other - we were too wrapped up in the fact that there was a team of people around our baby and she was being put into an isolette. I didn't see my baby girl for three hours after that.

February is a slow month for babies and births, we were explained. Except this year the nursery exploded and there were not enough rooms for the mothers. I kinda wonder what happened 9 months ago that everyone was having babies all of a sudden. So I lingered around in post-op until my nurse, after multiple phone calls, yelling at people that they couldn't separate mother and baby, etc., they finally got me a room. But then they didn't clean the room and we had to wait more.  I cried by myself in my hospital bed, waiting for my baby or for any news on her progress. Well, that's after they gave me some drugs to control the violent shaking I was experiencing as a side effect of I totally forgot what drug. Tim finally came to see me, big smile on his face and a camera loaded with pictures.  I missed her first bath.  I missed her being put into a regular bassinet.  I missed her grabbing her daddy's hand, her footprints being placed into her two Bibles, and three hours of her life. He told me she weight 5 pounds, 3 ounces.  I couldn't believe it.  I had so badly wanted her to be at least 5 pounds, and here she was - a tiny bundle, but she had surpassed our expectations. She only needed one supplement in the nursery to help her gain weight, and then they gave us the all clear to solely breastfeed (my heart did a little happy dance at this news). My nurse pulled us a solid and they brought me my Jordan Breanne in post-op until we could be wheeled into our room together.

I can't describe the relief I felt to hold my baby again. She gave us quite a scare, that little one.  My other OB checked on me the next day and he told me that he wasn't surprised - she gave us so many scares, it only made sense to give us one more. I know that I will be scared everyday for the rest of my life for her, and I will do everything I can to protect her.

We spent the next few days in the hospital, snuggling up with our baby girl and memorizing the traits of her face, her hands, her (giant) feet. She is a good baby - she doesn't cry much and is soothed easily (usually). It took miles and mountains to get to where we are now, but we have our baby girl, safe and sound. Our church had a round of applause the day we brought her home. Thank you, God. Thank you, Conner. Thank you, Benjamin.

Special Delivery! Jordan's Dating Profile

Name: Jordan Breanne (story behind the name for another day)

Nicknames: Nugs (short for nugget... as in chicken nugget. And not just any chicken nugget... the MCnugget), eggroll, peanut, munchkin (I see a food name trend....)

Height: 18.5 inches

Weight: 5 pounds, 3 ounces

Eye color: deep deep bluish grey (for now)

Hair color: dark brown with blonde highlights. That's right boys, blonde and brunette (daddy is demanding I take that last part out, but I will not).

Likes: chewing on shirt sleeves (her own), being a baby eggroll (Asian version of baby burrito), bathtime, and being read to

Dislikes: diaper changes, a room full of people, hat adjustments, being naked (she is so modest)

Accomplishments: apgar 9 and breastfeeding champ (practically army crawled to the boob right after birth). Also, rolling over from side to side (which mommy missed)

Favorite traits in men: strong arms to burp her

Favorite places: laying on the warm beaches of mommy's boobs and hanging out on daddy's shoulder. Definitely not alone in the bassinet.

Short term plans: passing the car seat challenge (later today!), differentiate between night and day, gain some weight, and eventually explore solid food choices

Long term plans: going mobile and choosing own headbands (she is not so sure what else there could be in life)