FELICITY JANE, Part Four

We hit Syracuse by about 5:30pm. I knew I wasn't ready to go to the hospital. I texted my sister-in-law to let her know we'd be stopping by her place for a bit. As always, she was glad to have us. In fact, she ended up feeding us dinner! Delicious Corn Chowder w/Ham & Corn Muffins. Yes, I was ravenous and yes, I remember that warm corn muffin like it was yesterday.
After dinner, we went down into Shey's 'man cave' to check out the new sound system and 3D television. At this point, I was starting to tune out the conversations going on around me. I headed back upstairs to be by myself for a bit. It was then I realized exactly what I was doing. LABORING at HOME. Because I was a VBAC and because this wasn't my regular hospital, the docs asked that I avoid doing one thing: labor at home. Oops! As much as I would have loved the comfort and care of family during those next couple hours, I knew it was wrong. Not wanting to go back on my word, I called down to Eric. "Hey, honey. We better go."
Shey helped me into my boots and Gina hugged my neck. I bet they even prayed for me. We were off. 11 minutes flat to the Crouse parking garage. The contractions were getting harder to walk through and everything started to seem LOUD. Glad we left when we did. God's peace ruled my heart.
The poor old man working security saw me coming. "Oh, Lord have mercy! Go on, just go through. I'll tell the 8th floor you comin'. Don't stop! Just go, darlin'. Go. Go. Go." I laughed and tried to convince him I was fine. "Lord, have mercy, girl. You ain't fine. You havin' a baby. Go on now. Stop talkin' and get. in. that. elevator."
By the time we walked out of the elevator and onto the 8th floor, I was becoming very curious. Would I labor for hours and hours to come or would I deliver rather soon?
The nurses and ladies at check-in started running around and screeching as soon as they heard this was my tenth. I looked at one lady going crazy and said, "Trust me. My baby isn't going to fall out." She paused for a second, considered what I said, and said, "Nope, I don't trust you. Get in a room. Any room! This room right here (pointing to the first room she saw)."
I changed and collapsed onto the bed. SERIOUSLY TIRED ALREADY! I noticed the time- 8:02. I wondered if I would get to meet my baby this day, the 20th of December. The next couple hours consisted of lots of laughter. Lots of shushing people and pain and breathing, too. But lots of laughing and joking. With the nurses. With my husband. And even via texts from friends. It was a bit like live tweeting, really. "8 cm now"and "ok, I'm 10" and then "ready to push". Those are some really good friends, I tell you.
Felicity Jane Criscitello was born at 10:02pm on 12-20-12. Love those even numbers! And as soon as she was out I had the urge to break out and GO HOME. She would meet her siblings exactly 24 hours later. Great recovery, as is typical with me as long as I am not cut open.
Docs were great. Nurses were great. Eric was great. Friends & family were great. Felicity was great. And as always, God held & protected me the entire time.

FELICITY JANE, Part Three

I had the coolest due-date ever! December 12th, 2012. How sweet to be able to write that down as your date of birth? "Yeah, I was born on 12-12-12. Be jealous."
*sigh
Never mind that my due date came and went.

On Thursday the 13th, the day after my official due date, I did make the trip down to 'Cuse for a quick ultrasound and chat with the docs. The way Dr. Silverman put it, "As long as you can show me that your baby isn't 10 1/2 pounds or more, and that you still have an adequate amount of fluid in there, we'll just hang out and wait." Music to my ears! I'm all about hanging out and waiting.

There is a really big push (no pun intended) these days to induce labor when you are postdates. Not quite sure I'll ever understand that one, yet it's the norm. My midwife and I were both convinced that Syracuse would want to do something when I hit the "one week overdue" mark. They offered to set up an appointment to "discuss options" but I kindly refused. Driving down at that point just for an appointment seemed a bit pointless.


One of the kids suggested we have a "Kiss Your Due Date Goodbye" Party. When I asked what we should do at the party, they suggested eating snacks and picking a name. Sounded fun to me! I threw some Buffalo Wing Dip in the oven and cut up some celery sticks. While the dip was baking, I scribbled down a list of names I had heard thrown out there over the previous months. As I scribbled, it was all I could do to fight off a decent-sized pity party. I loved the name Paisley and I was alone. Not one other family member could even stand the name. We eventually gathered in the living room and talked about the name. Kids were whining and complaining. Eric was on the computer, caring less. More kids were arguing over who came up with what name and how so-and-so was named and blah blah blah. Finally, after mounting frustration, I yelled. "OK! Here we go! I'm READING the list. Here's the list. I'm READING IT ALOUD! If you HATE the name and can't live with a daughter or sibling WITH THIS NAME, RAISE your hand."

Me: "Daisy"

hands.

Me: "Sydney"

hands.

Me: "Penny"

hands.

Me: "Courtney"

hands.

Me: "Whitney"

hands.

Me: "Tory"

hands.

Me: (pause) "Paisley"

LOTS of hands.

Me: "Felicity"

no comments. no arguing. no complaining. no concerns.

and no hands.

And so it was decided.

Our baby girl had a name.

On Thursday, December 20th, as I began to prepare lunch, I noticed that my Braxton Hicks were feeling a bit... well, real-ish. It took me a few solid hard ones to realize that this might be "it". By the seventh or eighth real-ish contraction, I announced to the kids that I need a timer. They all went running for scrap paper and pencils and watches, except Colby who almost tossed his cookies right then and there. The poor kid gets super queasy at even the thought of anything labor or birth.

We were eating a late lunch and I was having them one right after another. They were coming about 3 minutes apart at that point. Avery asked, "Why aren't you texting Dad?" Oh, yeah. I guess that would be a good idea, huh? I texted Eric and suggested, "Wrap up whatever you're doing because I'm going to need a ride to Syracuse in awhile." It was 2pm.

By 3 pm, Eric arrived home and his parents showed up at around the same time. They would be staying here with the kids while we were away to have the Little Miss. For those of you who don't know my in-laws, they are the best people I know. Serving, loving, forgiving, and all around delightful! They prayed for me and they prayed for the baby and they prayed for our trip. We headed out the door at 3:30pm. I was 99.5% sure this was GO time.

What is it about that stupid half of a percent?
A conversation on the road, only 20 minutes from home:
Me: "What if I'm wrong and this isn't it?"
Eric: "We'll turn around and come back home."
Me: "Yeah, but what if I'm WRONG?!"
Eric: (long pause) "Really?"
Me: "I wish I could be 100% sure."
Eric: "Lisa, stop talking."

By the time we hit Watertown, I was saying all the same crazy things that I say when it's the real deal. Things like, "I can't do this" and "Oh, I can't believe what I'm about to have to go through." He smirked. He knew that half of a percent was long gone.

For those of you who know Riley & Avery's birth story, you know that Eric has no problem making good time to Syracuse when his wife is in labor. Understatement!

More apologies for breaking this up, but duty-in-the-form-of-10-kids calls!

To be cont'd.

FELICITY JANE, Part Two

I continued to have Braxton Hicks between Thanksgiving and my actual day of delivery. This was a bit new and confusing to me, since I had never really had any kind of practice contractions. My typical pattern of the past was boring, I guess: pregnancy, labor, delivery, boom. This time around, the lines were fuzzy. Labor was creeping back into the pregnancy part! This made the call for Syracuse departure pretty difficult. I tortured my friends with texts on many occasions. "What should I do? Is this it? Why don't I know? What is wrong with me? It's not like I haven't done this before! HELP!" Do you have any idea how loving and patient my friends are? They prayed. They shared godly wisdom and helpful, practical advice. It was a test for me. Will I wait with grace or will I fear not knowing the exact time? Eric kept me sane with his constant reminders, "I'm here. I'm ready. Just text me when you KNOW it's time."

The constant question rolling around in my mind was this: What if I wait too long?

Eric was serious about only one thing, and that is I not wait too long.

The midwife providing my pre-natal care tried to corner him several times for an "emergency car birth lesson". He came up with all kinds of reasons (excuses) why he couldn't participate. They ranged from "Gotta run, gym time!" to "Why would I ever need to know about that? That is NOT happening to us!"
She would respond, "You're in denial." Then he would respond, "No. I can just drive fast." Back and forth they went, and all the while I would just sit there thinking, "Why does THIS have to be the Braxton Hicks pregnancy?"

My good friends kept reminding me, "When it's the real deal, you'll KNOW."

My mid-wife kept reminding me, "When it's the real deal, you'll KNOW."

And all I could ever think was, "When it's the real deal, I'll have NO IDEA."

They were right and I was wrong.

To be cont'd.

NOT the most flattering picture of me,

but the kids love it because of the ears and antlers.

I love it because Kailey was telling the baby,

"Don't worry, little baby, I'll teach you how to moonwalk!"

FELICITY JANE, Part One

I have a sneaking suspicion that this story will be dished out in at least four parts.

I'm a busy woman and don't have a lot of uninterrupted free time.

Who does, right?

When I found out that my due date with child ten was 12/12/12, you can bet this girl was happy.

Even numbers galore.

Better news yet, another daughter was on the way.

Sugar and spice and everything nice.

Little Miss would even up the teams... 5 boys against 5 girls!

We were VERY excited about this precious little gift about to make her way into the world, into our family, and into our hearts.

Carrying her proved to be pretty uneventful, but I was really feeling my age this time around.

That whole "not-a-spring-chicken-anymore" concept was creeping in on me.

I was 21 when I had Colby.

Now I was 36. Wife, mother, and manager of The Criscitello Homestead.

Because of a prior c-section with my second set of twins, I was having to fight for a VBAC (vaginal birth after cesarean) once again. My two previous births had been successful VBACs, delivered by my family doc right here at our local hospital. Since the birth of our five year old, Libby, the climate had changed enough that the hospital now had a strict "No-VBAC" policy. Too risky, they decided. So off I go to take my business elsewhere.

Crouse in Syracuse will always have a special place in my heart. After all, it was the place where docs were willing and even excited to care for me with my first twin pregnancy. That pregnancy was a bit of a train wreck. Pre-PROM (pre- premature rupture of membranes) at 12 weeks with twins put me into a high-risk category. Crouse didn't blink an eyelash while local docs were urging me to abort. That's another story for another day. I will say that the end is beautiful, though. God worked a miracle and we now have two strong, perfectly healthy ten year old boys!

The plan for baby #10: Pre-natal care at home with a local midwife and drive to Crouse in Syracuse when labor starts. If we made good time and got there before I was ready to go to the hospital, Gina and Shey live in the area and graciously opened their home should I need a place to kill time. If we got caught in a snowstorm on 81 halfway between Watertown and Syracuse, well, let's just say there wasn't a plan for that.

On the night of Thanksgiving, I began having very tricky contractions. I couldn't tell if they were Braxton Hicks or the real deal. I drank lots of water. I put my feet up and rested. I soaked in the tub. At 3 am, I woke Eric up and told him that my contractions were painful and steady. He gave me the classic Eric line, "What do you want me to do?" I said I didn't want him to DO anything, other than be prepared to hop out of bed at any given moment and pack for Syracuse. I agreed to wake him again if things picked up. They did not.

To be cont'd.

Libby being a bit sad.

Libby deciding to be happy about a baby coming soon.

FIRST POST

Is this even going to work?

I'm SO not a blogger.

I do have an awful lot of blog-worthy events that happen throughout my day...

Perhaps I'll give it a whirl.

Felicity's birth story is just DYING to be told.

Or something like that.

Here goes nothing...