....and better than the ones on TLC. Because it's my baby story, natch.
All right. I said that one day I would post my baby story, and here I am. Four days away from going back to work (80 days after becoming a mommy). Posting my story.
It was a day like any other. The weather was nice, but we were due to get some rain. I had gone to bed late the night before because I was up chatting on Facebook with my sister and a friend about how I was feeling. I was 38 weeks 6 days pregnant. May as well have been 38 months. I was ready to rock.
6:15 am, September 14
I got up a little earlier than normal that day because it was the day to wash my hair, and I had a doctor's appointment set for before work. Yes, I do not wash my hair every day when I straighten it. Since having a baby I'm sporting my natural, curly look more often. Less time consuming. But I digress.
After my morning trip to the commode, I noticed a little something extra trickled out after I thought I had emptied my bladder. I figured maybe I just hadn't gotten everything out. When you're 9 months pregnant, the bladder is a little squished. It doesn't quite work like it used to. I disregarded it and stepped on the scale. 189 pounds. Ick.
Off to the shower, where I realized I should probably shave my legs. It had been a while and I was feeling up to the task of bending over to get them done. This wasn't a feeling that struck often. Seriously. Imagine bending over when your belly is the size of a watermelon while wielding a sharp object meant to remove hair from your epidermis. Pretty scary, huh?
I managed to get my shave on pretty successfully, but noticed that each time I stood up I had a little trickle again just like when I had been...um...taking a leak? Anyway. Now I began to wonder "Could it be? Is my water 'broken?' Seems a little less geyser-like than I expected..." I get out of the shower where a pretty steady trickle leads to to answer my prior question with a semi-confident "yes" and results in waking up Steven with, "Honey, my water broke?" (I did say it with a questioning inflection to my voice)
What do I do next, you ask? Panic? Begin flurrying around the house trying to frantically get together last minute items needed for the already-been-packed-for-a-few-weeks hospital bag? Nope. I got dressed and ate a bowl of Golden Grahams. I told Steven maybe he should go to work since I wasn't feeling any contractions yet, so we must have plenty of time until the real show started. After that, Steven and I prayed for the labor and delivery, since we knew we were going to have a baby in the next 24 hours. After a trip to the restroom where I saw (and thought at the time was it) the "bloody show," I told Steven maybe he should call out of work. And then I waxed my eyebrows and upper lip.
WHAT?!
Yes, you read that right. I went to the bathroom and waxed. Hey, it had been a while. I knew there were going to be post delivery pictures to be had and I wanted to at least know I had handled some long overdue grooming. And then I straightened my hair, which is an hour long process. I wanted to look good, which I realized about 6 cm into dilating during labor was COMPLETELY unnecessary. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
Funny side note: at this point, Steven and I had both called out of work but had not called anyone in the family yet to give them a heads up about what was happening. We figured we'd have plenty of time. I still wasn't feeling contractions and we didn't want people to sit around forever waiting in a hospital for us.
8:45 am
One ridiculous grooming ritual and a few more slightly wetter trickles of broken water later, I am on my way to my OB's office. That's right. I don't head to the hospital. I go to the OB. Again, first time mom. No contractions. Broken water. Feeling clueless but still pretty darn relaxed. I step out of the car at the doctor's and make it to the back end of my vehicle when...
....Niagra. Freakin. Falls. So this is the dramatic water breaking gush that gets dramatized on television. Considering my location, there are worse places where this could have happened. Like the produce section at the grocery store. Or Applebee's.
Steven is on his way to meet me at the doctor, and being the responsible person I am I still trek upstairs to the doctor's office, soaking wet pants and all.
Me: "Um, my water just broke in the parking lot, but I have an appointment at 8:50 with Dr. Richardson. I don't think I'm going to make it to that appointment."
Lady in waiting room about as pregnant as me: "Lucky."
Receptionist: "Seriously? Hang on a second. Dr. Richardson, right?"
One lady comes out and tells me to head to triage at the hospital, but I calmly tell her my husband is on his way and could I please have a place to sit down? Imagine me doing a really awkward dance trying to hide my soaked front and back pants from anyone who can see me. It's not effective.
I get taken back to some random exam room and put in a chair where I sit and wait for Steven to arrive. Everyone seems freaked out that I'm so calm. Am I supposed to be freaking out? I don't know. After a quick exchange with the doctor where she tells us not to run every red light but to get to the hospital (which she is going to call while we're en route to let them know we're en route), Steven and I head home to drop off a car and pick up the hospital bag. I probably should have been a little more flurry-ish about packing the last minute stuff.
On the drive home, the contractions finally start. Little, crampy contractions coming once every couple of minutes. I'm surprised they're happening so quickly, but I'm also singing and dancing along to LMFAO's "Party Rock Anthem" so I don't really notice. At this point, both the moms have been alerted that it's baby time.
9:15 am
Finally reunited at home, Steven and I put together the last minute things. At this point I have changed into a fresh pair of pants. I'm hunched over the counter in the kitchen every time a contraction hits, swaying back and forth just trying to stay calm. The swaying didn't really seem to help, but the laboring women in the childbirth videos we watched did it and it looked soothing so I figured what the hey? I'll give it a whirl. I keep asking Steven if he wants to pack a sandwich because I don't want him to get low blood sugar or be hungry while I'm in labor. He told me later he thought I was crazy.
9:30 am
Car seat is locked and loaded in the backseat, ready for a baby. Hospital bags are packed and loaded in the car. Steven and I climb in the car and pull away from home as a family of two for the last time. I have to admit, the drive to the hospital was eerily calm and not at all what we pictured. Steven told me every boy dreams of getting to race his laboring wife (who should be sceaming and not serene like me) to the hospital. Here we were, driving the speed limit and signalling for every lane change. We're laughing and chatting like it's just a leisurely morning drive. At one point Steven asked me if I wanted him to drift up to the hospital entrance just for effect.
We had to circle the lot for a while to find a spot and found one in the last row. Again, slow and steady driving. I told Steven to leave the bags in the car because we would have time to bring them in later. A volunteer took us by golf cart to the Women and Infant's Services entrance. He was nice and trying to make small talk the whole way in, but I was contracting and wincing over every bump. I'm sure he was very funny.
9:45 am
I happened to go into labor on the day the computer system went down at the hospital where I delivered. Oh, and there was only one person doing OB admitting that morning. Did I also mention another couple beat us to admitting by about 5 seconds? All that to say I got to sway and hold myself up against the wall in a hallway as contractions kept coming. And coming. And coming while the other couple got admitted. At this point it was starting to get difficult to talk through the contractions and I was trying really hard to be patient.
Thankfully my turn came quickly enough and the paperwork for me was already waiting since the doctor called ahead. I kept getting asked asinine questions I had already answered when I did the pre-admission a month prior, and I couldn't talk or think during contractions. There must be something about people at this hospital and friendly small talk. All I heard was the Charlie Brown teacher. Wah wah wah wah wah wah.
I got directly admitted, but had to wait in the OB waiting room to be taken back. Unfortunately for the custodial staff, Niagra Falls made another appearance while I was waiting.
Me (to L & D nurse, while water is running down my legs): I think I made a mess on that couch.
I waddled my way back to my labor and delivery room with wet pants (again). I swear everyone was staring at me like they'd never seen a woman with broken water squishing through a hallway before.
10:30 am
After changing into a hospital gown, going potty, and filling out what felt like a million forms and answering a lot of questions, I finally got checked to see how I was progressing. At this point I was 3-4 cm dilated, 100% effaced, and Natalie had dropped to the -1 station. Not a bad place to start.
I told my nurse, Lesley, that the long and short of my birth plan was no meds. I didn't have any scripted birth plan aside from this. No meds. The end. She told me she would help me get my goal.
Steven had been letting our parents know that we were at the hospital. It took a couple of contractions, but I managed to get a quick text sent to my dad.
"At the hospital. Water broke this morning."
That was all I could manage to type out. After these initial contacts, the phones sat at the wayside and it was game. on.
12:00 pm
Contractions were coming pretty rapidly and hurt pretty badly. Any time I started to feel one coming on, I started to look around the room for Steven. I needed him at my side holding my hand. Once or twice I think I rolled my eyes and said "Oh crap" when I felt a contraction start. I also started to wonder aloud where my mom was.
Side note: Just 24 hours before this, I was having a conversation with a friend at work about how I wasn't sure I would want my mom in the room while I was in labor.
At this point I was flipping from side to side after every few contractions to stay comfortable. Lesley was doing some counterpressure with my knees, and she and Steven were working hard to keep me from tensing up too much at the peaks of each contraction. It was working pretty well, but the contractions were really starting to hurt. I'd say a 6 or 7 on a scale of 10. Lesley checked progress, and I was dilated to 6 cm. I was starting to feel like I was going to throw up during contractions, so I got some Zofran (sp?) via IV to take care of the nausea.
I got out of bed and went into the shower with Steven. No, not to do husband and wife things. He was aiming the shower head where I needed the hot water most on my back during contractions. I labored in the shower for a good 45 minutes. My mom, mother-in-law, and dad arrived around 12:30.
Lesley: Is everyone staying in the room (whispers and raises her eyebrows) even the man?
My mom checked to see how I was doing and looked like she was going to crap her pants when I told her I was dilated to 6 already. She stayed and prayed with Steven and I as I told her briefly about the morning.
Me: Blah blah blah (contraction starts) stand by. (contraction ends) Ok, where was I?
1:00 pm
The trip to the shower helped me to relax some. I was starting to moan and say really funny things like "owie" during contractions at this point. It was taking a lot of concentration to stay focused in la-la-labor land. Cell phone text alerts kept going off as family was checking in, but the tones were distracting me. I actually asked everyone in the room if they could pretty please turn off the phones.
Lesley checked me again and I was dilated to 7 cm. Steven's mom had skipped lunch and we figured we had some time still, so she went to get food from the hospital cafeteria. Little did we know she decided to go pick up Steven's dad 30 minutes away.
1:30 pm
The contractions were coming hard and fast now. I started to cry because they hurt so bad. Lesley let me know that I was doing great, but just in case I changed my mind no pain meds after 8 cm. Then I felt a doozy of a contraction. Seriously a 9 of 10 for pain. I told Steven I didn't think I could do it because it was starting to hurt so bad. And then another really painful contraction hit. This time I felt like I needed to push (and did a little).
Me: I think I need to push.
Lesley: (checking) Yep, you're at 9 1/2 centimters. There's a tiny sliver of cervix left. I'm going to page the doctor. It's time to push.
Me: Really? I did it? Really?
My dad: And that's my cue to exit. Just come get me in the waiting room when Natalie's here!
This was when we found out Steven's mom had gone to pick up his dad.
1:35 pm
Dr. Guzman, a really great doctor from the practice I went to for prenatal care, was the doctor on call that day. I had gone to him for my 37 weeks appointment, and he had delivered my niece in February, so I at least knew who he was and was comfortable that he was the doctor delivering my baby. He walked in the room as I was coming out of another particulary painful contraction (lots of moaning and owie-ing).
Me: Owie owie owie. (contraction ends). Heeeeey Dr. Guzman.
He got suited up and ready to go. The bed got taken apart, Lesley coached us on how the pushing phase was going to go (lots of breath holding, ab crunching, and legs being pulled back), and out came the foot rests.
1:50 pm
It starts. The pushing. I felt a contraction begin, took a deep breath, and pushed. Longest. 10. seconds. ever. And then I had to jump right back into another push? Seriously? I'd get 3 or 4 good pushes in with each contraction, but I thought I was going to pass out from exhaustion. At least the pushing didn't hurt, it was just physically difficult.
In between each contraction, my tummy started to growl. The Golden Grahams weren't holding out as well as I had hoped. I was hungry.
1:59 pm
Foot paddles were replaced with fancy stirrups that held my legs up better and higher while I was pushing. I felt much more comfortable.
The next contraction Natalie crowned. And then went back. And her heart rate dropped a little. I had to push in between contractions to keep her cruising down the birth canal.
Dr. Guzman: Sandi, do you see that trash can over my shoulder? On this next push, I want you to shoot this baby out into the trash can.
Me: (weakly) Okay.
2:04 pm
Lesley gave me oxygen. I girded my loins (literally). I pushed with all my might and out came Natalie's head. One more push and out came her body. Then she was on my chest, crying and looking into my eyes. Reaching out and touching my face. All I could manage to eke out was "Hi."
Natalie Faith made her debut weighing in at 6 lbs. 15.4 oz and 20 in. long. Her APGAR scores were 9/9. I had a perfectly healthy baby girl, and I did it all without meds.
All right. I said that one day I would post my baby story, and here I am. Four days away from going back to work (80 days after becoming a mommy). Posting my story.
It was a day like any other. The weather was nice, but we were due to get some rain. I had gone to bed late the night before because I was up chatting on Facebook with my sister and a friend about how I was feeling. I was 38 weeks 6 days pregnant. May as well have been 38 months. I was ready to rock.
6:15 am, September 14
I got up a little earlier than normal that day because it was the day to wash my hair, and I had a doctor's appointment set for before work. Yes, I do not wash my hair every day when I straighten it. Since having a baby I'm sporting my natural, curly look more often. Less time consuming. But I digress.
After my morning trip to the commode, I noticed a little something extra trickled out after I thought I had emptied my bladder. I figured maybe I just hadn't gotten everything out. When you're 9 months pregnant, the bladder is a little squished. It doesn't quite work like it used to. I disregarded it and stepped on the scale. 189 pounds. Ick.
Off to the shower, where I realized I should probably shave my legs. It had been a while and I was feeling up to the task of bending over to get them done. This wasn't a feeling that struck often. Seriously. Imagine bending over when your belly is the size of a watermelon while wielding a sharp object meant to remove hair from your epidermis. Pretty scary, huh?
I managed to get my shave on pretty successfully, but noticed that each time I stood up I had a little trickle again just like when I had been...um...taking a leak? Anyway. Now I began to wonder "Could it be? Is my water 'broken?' Seems a little less geyser-like than I expected..." I get out of the shower where a pretty steady trickle leads to to answer my prior question with a semi-confident "yes" and results in waking up Steven with, "Honey, my water broke?" (I did say it with a questioning inflection to my voice)
What do I do next, you ask? Panic? Begin flurrying around the house trying to frantically get together last minute items needed for the already-been-packed-for-a-few-weeks hospital bag? Nope. I got dressed and ate a bowl of Golden Grahams. I told Steven maybe he should go to work since I wasn't feeling any contractions yet, so we must have plenty of time until the real show started. After that, Steven and I prayed for the labor and delivery, since we knew we were going to have a baby in the next 24 hours. After a trip to the restroom where I saw (and thought at the time was it) the "bloody show," I told Steven maybe he should call out of work. And then I waxed my eyebrows and upper lip.
WHAT?!
Yes, you read that right. I went to the bathroom and waxed. Hey, it had been a while. I knew there were going to be post delivery pictures to be had and I wanted to at least know I had handled some long overdue grooming. And then I straightened my hair, which is an hour long process. I wanted to look good, which I realized about 6 cm into dilating during labor was COMPLETELY unnecessary. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
Funny side note: at this point, Steven and I had both called out of work but had not called anyone in the family yet to give them a heads up about what was happening. We figured we'd have plenty of time. I still wasn't feeling contractions and we didn't want people to sit around forever waiting in a hospital for us.
8:45 am
One ridiculous grooming ritual and a few more slightly wetter trickles of broken water later, I am on my way to my OB's office. That's right. I don't head to the hospital. I go to the OB. Again, first time mom. No contractions. Broken water. Feeling clueless but still pretty darn relaxed. I step out of the car at the doctor's and make it to the back end of my vehicle when...
....Niagra. Freakin. Falls. So this is the dramatic water breaking gush that gets dramatized on television. Considering my location, there are worse places where this could have happened. Like the produce section at the grocery store. Or Applebee's.
Steven is on his way to meet me at the doctor, and being the responsible person I am I still trek upstairs to the doctor's office, soaking wet pants and all.
Me: "Um, my water just broke in the parking lot, but I have an appointment at 8:50 with Dr. Richardson. I don't think I'm going to make it to that appointment."
Lady in waiting room about as pregnant as me: "Lucky."
Receptionist: "Seriously? Hang on a second. Dr. Richardson, right?"
One lady comes out and tells me to head to triage at the hospital, but I calmly tell her my husband is on his way and could I please have a place to sit down? Imagine me doing a really awkward dance trying to hide my soaked front and back pants from anyone who can see me. It's not effective.
I get taken back to some random exam room and put in a chair where I sit and wait for Steven to arrive. Everyone seems freaked out that I'm so calm. Am I supposed to be freaking out? I don't know. After a quick exchange with the doctor where she tells us not to run every red light but to get to the hospital (which she is going to call while we're en route to let them know we're en route), Steven and I head home to drop off a car and pick up the hospital bag. I probably should have been a little more flurry-ish about packing the last minute stuff.
On the drive home, the contractions finally start. Little, crampy contractions coming once every couple of minutes. I'm surprised they're happening so quickly, but I'm also singing and dancing along to LMFAO's "Party Rock Anthem" so I don't really notice. At this point, both the moms have been alerted that it's baby time.
9:15 am
Finally reunited at home, Steven and I put together the last minute things. At this point I have changed into a fresh pair of pants. I'm hunched over the counter in the kitchen every time a contraction hits, swaying back and forth just trying to stay calm. The swaying didn't really seem to help, but the laboring women in the childbirth videos we watched did it and it looked soothing so I figured what the hey? I'll give it a whirl. I keep asking Steven if he wants to pack a sandwich because I don't want him to get low blood sugar or be hungry while I'm in labor. He told me later he thought I was crazy.
9:30 am
Car seat is locked and loaded in the backseat, ready for a baby. Hospital bags are packed and loaded in the car. Steven and I climb in the car and pull away from home as a family of two for the last time. I have to admit, the drive to the hospital was eerily calm and not at all what we pictured. Steven told me every boy dreams of getting to race his laboring wife (who should be sceaming and not serene like me) to the hospital. Here we were, driving the speed limit and signalling for every lane change. We're laughing and chatting like it's just a leisurely morning drive. At one point Steven asked me if I wanted him to drift up to the hospital entrance just for effect.
We had to circle the lot for a while to find a spot and found one in the last row. Again, slow and steady driving. I told Steven to leave the bags in the car because we would have time to bring them in later. A volunteer took us by golf cart to the Women and Infant's Services entrance. He was nice and trying to make small talk the whole way in, but I was contracting and wincing over every bump. I'm sure he was very funny.
9:45 am
I happened to go into labor on the day the computer system went down at the hospital where I delivered. Oh, and there was only one person doing OB admitting that morning. Did I also mention another couple beat us to admitting by about 5 seconds? All that to say I got to sway and hold myself up against the wall in a hallway as contractions kept coming. And coming. And coming while the other couple got admitted. At this point it was starting to get difficult to talk through the contractions and I was trying really hard to be patient.
Thankfully my turn came quickly enough and the paperwork for me was already waiting since the doctor called ahead. I kept getting asked asinine questions I had already answered when I did the pre-admission a month prior, and I couldn't talk or think during contractions. There must be something about people at this hospital and friendly small talk. All I heard was the Charlie Brown teacher. Wah wah wah wah wah wah.
I got directly admitted, but had to wait in the OB waiting room to be taken back. Unfortunately for the custodial staff, Niagra Falls made another appearance while I was waiting.
Me (to L & D nurse, while water is running down my legs): I think I made a mess on that couch.
I waddled my way back to my labor and delivery room with wet pants (again). I swear everyone was staring at me like they'd never seen a woman with broken water squishing through a hallway before.
10:30 am
After changing into a hospital gown, going potty, and filling out what felt like a million forms and answering a lot of questions, I finally got checked to see how I was progressing. At this point I was 3-4 cm dilated, 100% effaced, and Natalie had dropped to the -1 station. Not a bad place to start.
I told my nurse, Lesley, that the long and short of my birth plan was no meds. I didn't have any scripted birth plan aside from this. No meds. The end. She told me she would help me get my goal.
Steven had been letting our parents know that we were at the hospital. It took a couple of contractions, but I managed to get a quick text sent to my dad.
"At the hospital. Water broke this morning."
That was all I could manage to type out. After these initial contacts, the phones sat at the wayside and it was game. on.
12:00 pm
Contractions were coming pretty rapidly and hurt pretty badly. Any time I started to feel one coming on, I started to look around the room for Steven. I needed him at my side holding my hand. Once or twice I think I rolled my eyes and said "Oh crap" when I felt a contraction start. I also started to wonder aloud where my mom was.
Side note: Just 24 hours before this, I was having a conversation with a friend at work about how I wasn't sure I would want my mom in the room while I was in labor.
At this point I was flipping from side to side after every few contractions to stay comfortable. Lesley was doing some counterpressure with my knees, and she and Steven were working hard to keep me from tensing up too much at the peaks of each contraction. It was working pretty well, but the contractions were really starting to hurt. I'd say a 6 or 7 on a scale of 10. Lesley checked progress, and I was dilated to 6 cm. I was starting to feel like I was going to throw up during contractions, so I got some Zofran (sp?) via IV to take care of the nausea.
I got out of bed and went into the shower with Steven. No, not to do husband and wife things. He was aiming the shower head where I needed the hot water most on my back during contractions. I labored in the shower for a good 45 minutes. My mom, mother-in-law, and dad arrived around 12:30.
Lesley: Is everyone staying in the room (whispers and raises her eyebrows) even the man?
My mom checked to see how I was doing and looked like she was going to crap her pants when I told her I was dilated to 6 already. She stayed and prayed with Steven and I as I told her briefly about the morning.
Me: Blah blah blah (contraction starts) stand by. (contraction ends) Ok, where was I?
1:00 pm
The trip to the shower helped me to relax some. I was starting to moan and say really funny things like "owie" during contractions at this point. It was taking a lot of concentration to stay focused in la-la-labor land. Cell phone text alerts kept going off as family was checking in, but the tones were distracting me. I actually asked everyone in the room if they could pretty please turn off the phones.
Lesley checked me again and I was dilated to 7 cm. Steven's mom had skipped lunch and we figured we had some time still, so she went to get food from the hospital cafeteria. Little did we know she decided to go pick up Steven's dad 30 minutes away.
1:30 pm
The contractions were coming hard and fast now. I started to cry because they hurt so bad. Lesley let me know that I was doing great, but just in case I changed my mind no pain meds after 8 cm. Then I felt a doozy of a contraction. Seriously a 9 of 10 for pain. I told Steven I didn't think I could do it because it was starting to hurt so bad. And then another really painful contraction hit. This time I felt like I needed to push (and did a little).
Me: I think I need to push.
Lesley: (checking) Yep, you're at 9 1/2 centimters. There's a tiny sliver of cervix left. I'm going to page the doctor. It's time to push.
Me: Really? I did it? Really?
My dad: And that's my cue to exit. Just come get me in the waiting room when Natalie's here!
This was when we found out Steven's mom had gone to pick up his dad.
1:35 pm
Dr. Guzman, a really great doctor from the practice I went to for prenatal care, was the doctor on call that day. I had gone to him for my 37 weeks appointment, and he had delivered my niece in February, so I at least knew who he was and was comfortable that he was the doctor delivering my baby. He walked in the room as I was coming out of another particulary painful contraction (lots of moaning and owie-ing).
Me: Owie owie owie. (contraction ends). Heeeeey Dr. Guzman.
He got suited up and ready to go. The bed got taken apart, Lesley coached us on how the pushing phase was going to go (lots of breath holding, ab crunching, and legs being pulled back), and out came the foot rests.
1:50 pm
It starts. The pushing. I felt a contraction begin, took a deep breath, and pushed. Longest. 10. seconds. ever. And then I had to jump right back into another push? Seriously? I'd get 3 or 4 good pushes in with each contraction, but I thought I was going to pass out from exhaustion. At least the pushing didn't hurt, it was just physically difficult.
In between each contraction, my tummy started to growl. The Golden Grahams weren't holding out as well as I had hoped. I was hungry.
1:59 pm
Foot paddles were replaced with fancy stirrups that held my legs up better and higher while I was pushing. I felt much more comfortable.
The next contraction Natalie crowned. And then went back. And her heart rate dropped a little. I had to push in between contractions to keep her cruising down the birth canal.
Dr. Guzman: Sandi, do you see that trash can over my shoulder? On this next push, I want you to shoot this baby out into the trash can.
Me: (weakly) Okay.
2:04 pm
Lesley gave me oxygen. I girded my loins (literally). I pushed with all my might and out came Natalie's head. One more push and out came her body. Then she was on my chest, crying and looking into my eyes. Reaching out and touching my face. All I could manage to eke out was "Hi."
Natalie Faith made her debut weighing in at 6 lbs. 15.4 oz and 20 in. long. Her APGAR scores were 9/9. I had a perfectly healthy baby girl, and I did it all without meds.
1 comment:
That was WAY better than anything on TLC! I'm so glad you shared this! What a wonderful memory!!! Congrats on no meds! That's my plan... when I finally get prego that is. This really was a wonderful blog! I felt like I was there with you! Congrats again on your beautiful lil girl!!! :D
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