Aiddie (Aid*dee) JoMichael McKellar
July 27th, 2009 6:40 pm
6 lbs 3 oz 18.5 inches

So...we spent the weekend at Bear Lake, with friends. Nikell got sick Saturday night, throwing up 12-15 times in one night. Sunday, we spent the day at Jason's parents bidding farewell to BJ and Nicole. Nikell still wasn't feeling well and by 10:00 pm (still at Jason's parents :)) was ready to call it a night. So I took her into the bedroom to rock and sing her some lullabys. She was asleep within 10 minutes. As I sat rocking, singing, and pondering I took note of the pictures in the room...one of Christ with some small children. It was then that I new that the time was near for me to give birth to our nearest baby. "It's going to be soon. And, don't worry, I WILL be with you."

That night, Mialee got sick. Between her and Nikell I was up several times in the night and with every movement and every turn, a contraction would come. By morning they were coming on their own, but not steadily. I told Jason that if they didn't go away soon then today would probably be the day. He went to work, cell phone in hand. I had to take Sierra to the doctor (she had swimmers ear and was also up in the night) at 9:00 am and had a doctors appointment at 10:30 am for me. Normally, I would take the kids to Meggin's (my sister), but was at a loss with them all being sick. So I called a friend (16 years old) and she agreed to come watch my sick kids while I went to the doctor. The doctor pronounced me at a 3 and 80% effaced and wanted to strip my membranes to move it along. I strongly objected claiming that I had been out of town and with sick kids all weekend and I needed as much time as I could before this baby came. She then wanted to make an appointment for Wednesday just in case I didn't have the baby and strip me then or even (gasp) start me. I basically told her she was nuts and I would see her later that night.

So....I called my mom and gave her fair warning and called Jason's mom and gave her fair warning (and then gave myself a pat on the back for actually calling a few people instead of inverting and dealing). Jason texted, wondering how far apart my contractions were, as did Nancy. So I timed them for a while, amidst the cleaning and laundry. Sierra followed me around with a clock and some paper, writing them down for me. They were so erratic! One and then another 12 minutes later. Then 3 minutes and then 7 and then perhaps 15...After a while I got tired of that game and just concentrated on ignoring them (ha ha). Nancy showed up around 3:30 or so (that could be totally wrong--time was lost on me somewhat). By 5:00 p.m. I texted Jason and told him to come home simply because I needed support. The contractions were still erratic, but becoming really intense. Jason came and Nancy took the kids on a walk (THANK YOU!). I vacated to my bed to try and relax. The contractions were becoming quite painful (I heard that gasp Tiffany--"pain" in hypnobirthing?) but were so unsteady. I told Jason, "I am afraid that if we go to the hospital they will tell me that I am at a 5 or 6 and I am about done playing this game. I don't know how much longer I can do it." He was sympathetic (sort of) and supportive of whatever. Finally, I just said, "Let's go." We got to the front door and I felt a familiar twinge of pressure in my hips. "Let's go" turned into "Hurry!"

We got to the hospital at 6:21 and spend 10 minutes "checking in" (whose idiotic idea was this?) before they would even let us in the door. Then once we got in the door, we were greeted by the pompous old know-it-all nurse who ignored my plea's to call my doctor because the baby was coming. Upon making it to a room, I attempted to get into bed only to be greeted by a monster contraction and was stuck on my hands and knees. I asked the pompous witch if she had called my doctor yet. Her reply (get ready this is a classic)..."What would I tell her, honey? I haven't even checked you." Well check me you idiot! (no quotes, I was nicer than that) "Well, I can't really check you in that position now can I?" If I was a bear she would have been shredded wheat at this point. So she checked me..."Let's see...nice soft cervix...bulging bag of waters...I would say you are at a 7 or an 8." Seriously. The baby is coming lady. She then proceeds to put the fetal monitor on me and push because she can't find a heartbeat (check my hips you retard!). I told her to knock it off. She fought me a little and I finally said, "Look, you are gonna have to leave me alone, okay?" She did. In fact, it was about at this point that she dissappeared...my water broke...9 minutes later the baby was born. Some other kind, understanding, willing to deliver my baby because pompous know-it-all wouldn't call my doctor, nurse stepped in and took over. No, I didn't push. Didn't have to. There was no stopping it. And man was I glad it was over! Whew.

The doctor arrived a few minutes later...She did put a few stiches in me. I guess that justifies the thousands of dollars that I paid for her services. Oh, and she did deliver the placenta. Shouldn't I get half off?

Actually, my hospital experience was much better this time than with Nikell. The nurses in general were much nicer, willing to listen, and overall helpful. Yeah, except you know who.

Aiddie has been such a sweet baby so far. She has a look all her own. She is amazingly alert and perceptive. She follows you with her eyes and loves it when people talk to her. Her smiles are big already...along with the other silly faces babies make when they are half conscious. The girls adore her and we have been having one big party in my room for the past couple of days...

And so the journey begins...again.

NEW BABY

Cabinets

We have cabinets! Our kitchen is actually starting to look like a kitchen! Whats that? Are we almost done now? Yeah, if you don't count finishing the ceiling, adding lights (and electricity), tiling the backsplash, putting in new windows, oh and the countertops, molding....NO, we're not almost done. But we are getting closer. And I do LOVE the cabinets. The paint is growing on me.

Funerals

I opened the obituaries yesterday and cried...I cried for the victims of the canal break, for a few babies that lived a short time, and for our dear old neighbor Vance Thompson. He was probably the first person we met here in our little Island. I remember walking the kids around the neighborhood while Jason was sanding floors and this funny old guy starts hollaring at us, "Hey! Who are you? Do you live here now? Where? Do you want some apples? Would your kids like some gum?" And so started our relationship. Vance adored kids...all kids. If he wasn't fussing over yours then he was bragging about grandkids. And he always had gum. Towards the end of his life he started giving us whole packs of gum. My kids and I will miss seeing Vance on our many walks. He had a heart of gold. Sierra insisted we make him a Bubble Gum Bouquet so he could still give out gum in heaven.

Emotional Overload?

You know what? I am going to have a baby.....soon. Last week, when I was checked, I was actually dilated to a 1 and effaced to 70%. Now I realize that this doesn't really mean anything--except that my body IS getting ready to have a baby. So, the question is, why am I feeling a little detached about the whole thing?

My theory is this....emotion overload. Too busy to care. It all started with Young Womens (you know the story). Add to that the feat of trying to get our kitchen done and then most recently the tragic canal explosion AND the fact that my kids are sick...I really am having a hard time keeping up. Not that I feel behind (at least not ALL the time). Actually, I really don't know how I feel. I really don't. My friend asked if I was happy. Hmmmmm. I'm not unhappy.

Anyway, as of yet, I haven't packed a bag, picked out a name, or even pulled out the baby bed. I should probably do some of these things, but I'm not really feeling all that interested. Oh, this kind of puts Jason in a bind too because he is in charge of the middle name. But he decided to go to Scout Camp for a couple of days so I am not going to feel sorry for him!

I would tell you the top five names on my list, but then (no offense) you would give me your opinions and honestly (again, no offense) I really don't care what you think when it comes to naming my children :). Was that rude? Sorry...it's that lack of emotions, I think.

We went outside this morning and found a mudslide a block west of our house! This is video of the canal where it broke above the houses. I was standing down below on the street and shortly after this heard the fireman yelling at these people (I'm sure) to get out of there.

Once upon a time....
there was a good little Mormon family who's Daddy suggested a "small" and "fun" "little" hike up to a "cute little pond" in the Wellsville Mountains for FHE. Even though the Mommy was 8+ months pregnant, the Daddy didn't seem worried and so, like a good little wife, she agreed to go along. So they packed up their three little girls in their trusty mountain climbing jeep and headed out.

Unfortunately, the trusty jeep decided it did not like climbing the mountain. It was too too hot and the fan didn't work. The Daddy tried to fix it, but alas, the fan was broken, broken, broken.While the Daddy worked the good little family ate fresh garden peas and explored the left over remains of campsites long ago used by beer drinkers.
The Daddy unhooked all the wires, hoping that maybe the fan really wasn't broken.
He even pulled out some tools from the trusty Jeep's storage trunk. But alas, the fan was broken, broken, broken. And even though the trusty Jeep had all sorts of amazing things...like 50 lbs of brown rice, several pairs of spare shoes, a first-aid kit, a plastic table cloth, etc...it didn't have a spare fan. But, the Daddy was not to be discouraged for while he worked and the family ate and explored, the trusty Jeep cooled off in the shade.
As the three little girls found all manner of wild-life, the Daddy gathered the family together and decided that the trusty Jeep just might get the family the rest of the way up the steep mountain to the head of the "little" trail. So off the family went with a bumpity bump and a slip and a slide as fast as they could go before the Jeep got too too hot again.
And then, HOORAY, they made it to the beautiful animal-pen-looking parking lot where the Daddy gave the trusty Jeep a pat on the hood and told it to take a break for a while.
The little family located the "cute little pond" on the forest map and took off gallantly up the trail.
Unfortunately, the forest had cast traps to keep out all manner of intruders and the little family was forced to walk with their arms raised (sideways, nonetheless) to avoid being stung by the nettle of the wicked forest plants.
Fortunately, the ever gallant Daddy was willing to carry the smallest of the children on the safety of his shoulders. He was even willing to endure ear-pulling (the worst of all tortures), and head-tapping from the cute little baby of the family.
And alas, after 26 minutes of hard work, toiling through the pains of the forest king, the little family successfully succeeded in finding the "cute little pond" nestled in the tops of the Wellsville Mouintains. They then skipped down the mountain, singing made-up songs, to the trusty Jeep that also sucessfully succeeded in bouncing them all the way home.

Cabin Fun

We had so much fun at out first ever Beddes Family Reunion! We did it all....sand castle contests, water balloon fun, ice cream catching, four-wheeling, swinging and sliding, making bracelets and boondoggle, swimming in Lava, games, doing our nails...Shannon even managed to fit in a trip to the emergency room (which is not unusual for her family these days :)). We can't wait to do it again.