Dane feeling awkward on Santa's lap
Finn's first photo. He had the nerve to be born at 5:33PM on Landon's beloved birthday, December 11th. But Landon rolled with the punches, not even (well, just rarely) complaining about spending his birthday at the hospital and then holding down the fort at home. Finn weighed in at 7 pounds, 0.5 ounces and measured 20 inches long.
Hello, Baby!
We're checking each other out
The Jones kids, waiting for their turns to hold their new baby brother.
Landon before graduation
After graduation: behold, Doctor Landon Jones.
After a restless night, I was too tired and sore to go to church. My contractions were still about 10 minutes apart, so I sent Landon and the kids to church. But as my fever, chills, and back pain worsened, I began to have flashbacks of barely making it into a hospital bed before giving birth to Dane 2 years ago. I wasn't dilating, but the pain was getting intense. This prompted me to pick up the phone and text Landon, who then had to try to exit sacrament meeting discreetly with the 5 kids in tow. The bishop, who was at the pulpit trying to fill a time gap, remarked with a smile, "I was going to ask the Joneses to come up and bear their testimonies, but it looks like they won't be available."
After a bunch of forms and waiting around, Landon and I were put in a triage room at the hospital and told that I was dilated to a grand total of. . . one centimeter. I groaned, knowing I'd probably be sent home in my misery. But then the nurse took my temperature and called the doctor. I was assaulted with swabs and probes everywhere as they looked for the cause of my fever. While waiting for lab results, I was hooked up to IV antibiotics and a 2 liter bolus of fluids. Although they never definitively found out why I had a fever (it wasn't flu or strep), they concluded that it was pyelonephritis because of the back pain and the blood in my urine.
This diagnosis spared me from being sent home. Instead, I was settled into an antepartum room for overnight observation and more antibiotics. It was an uncomfortable night, filled with more fever, chills, and contractions. The doctor decided it'd be easier to fight the infection if I were to deliver, so I was moved to a labor and delivery room, now dilated to a 2. After breaking my water, they wanted to start a pitocin drip. Having done pitocin twice before without an epidural, I wisely suggested (ok, demanded is probably more accurate) the nurse call the anesthetist before doing anything rash. After I got my epidural, things went smoothly until the chills hit hard again when it was time to push. The nurse and doctor were frantically setting up for delivery while I was begging for Tylenol and blankets. They ignored me, of course, having more pressing things to attend to than my 102 degree fever. I gave some half-hearted pushes and Finn compliantly slid out in a single contraction. I wanted to hold him, but due to my illness he was whisked away by the NICU team after I nursed him for a few minutes.
The next little bit is a blur. I just remember being very hot, swollen and hungry. I kept asking for fever meds and some food, but it was shift change and everyone was too busy to help. Finally I got someone in my room quickly by saying I was having a hard time breathing (hey, it was true. I needed my inhaler.). Still no fever meds, but at least I got a sandwich.
After a couple of hours in the postpartum unit my fever finally broke for the last time and I began to feel somewhat human again. Because of the infection and my age, recovery is taking longer this time around. I also felt some depression at the hospital, being separated from Finn while they poked and prodded him in the NICU. I tried to walk to his unit for feedings, but I was too sore and tired to make it more than a couple of times a day. It was also sad to see the IV and all the wires all over his tiny body. So I pumped milk for most of his feedings and had someone walk it over to him.
Things got better when Finn's doctor moved me into the NICU and let Finn stay with me in a room. I was able to manage his care and hold him all night. He was able to maintain his body temperature, his blood cultures came back clean, and he passed his glucose tests. So after a mandatory CPR class in the morning, I was able to take my precious Finn home.
The kids were able to meet their new brother when they got home from school on Thursday, and it was love at first sight. Jocelynne has been especially eager to hold, burp, and change him whenever the need arises. She looked at him wistfully before going to bed tonight, asking if she could please sleep with him. But I wasn't about to let her steal my little bed buddy.
And now for our other good news: Landon graduated! And after over 8 years of hard work--including moving our family to Costa Rica and back and repeatedly finishing "just one more semester"--I managed to miss his graduation. Fortunately, it was broadcasted on a webpage and Finn and I were able to watch Landon walk across the stage and get hooded by his professor. I was one very proud wife!
The kids are all doing well. Jocelynne is 12 now and lightens my burden by helping with Dane and Finn. She loves to read and socialize with her friends at school. Chloe is 10 and often helps with her younger siblings. Her passion is purses and bags. She's the one who always has a snack and a pen and notebook ready wherever we are because she is toting a bag full of stuff. She is a ray of sunshine and tackles life with enthusiasm. Tristan (8 years old) spends his time roughhousing with his brother Logan (6 years old) and caring for Dane. His favorite pastime is making all sorts of paper crafts, including paper airplanes and origami. Logan looks for trouble every chance he gets, but still manages to capture our hearts with his impish grin. His life goals are to amuse us and consume as much candy as possible. Dane is an adorable Toddler (with a capital “T”!) who demands the fulfillment of his every whim. He was dethroned this week, however, with the birth of his baby brother, and I am impressed by how well he is adjusting to Finn. I hope it lasts!
Finally, Chloe reminded me tonight that it was "Truck Day", or the Sunday in December last year when a truck drove through the house after we were all in bed. It reminded me of how blessed we are to be back in our home, with all of us safe. We're all excited for Grandma to come this week, and our home is filled with joy, love, a new baby, and a doctor. Merry Christmas.
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