Rosalee Hope Dybdahl

She's here!  After what seemed like the longest 38 weeks and 6 days of my life, our second daughter entered the world pink and healthy and beautiful.  A miracle.  A gorgeous, crying, hungry miracle.  After the silent delivery room we experienced last September, hearing Rosie cry was the most wonderful sound in the world.  She's a pretty noisy little girl unless she's sound asleep.  Even in a light sleep, she grunts a lot and breathes loudly.  I'm grateful she makes so much noise.  If she didn't, I know I would be constantly checking to see if she's breathing, which I still do plenty despite all of her sounds.  The last 2 weeks have been wonderful.  And emotional.  And exhausting.  Overall, we are incredibly happy.  However, as we expected, there have been some very mixed emotions as we brought home one daughter while still grieving another.  I have moments when I feel like being happy that Rosie is here means I'm letting go of Molly a little bit.  Or moments when I cry while I'm nursing Rosie because...well, because I'm hormonal and tired and looking at Rosie makes me wonder what Molly would have looked like at 2 weeks old.  And because I still wish Molly were here.  But then Rosie would not.  And the cycle goes on and on.  Grateful for one, missing the other.  Wishing for both.  As always, grief is confusing.  And grief mixed with so much relief and happiness is even more confusing.  My coping mechanism has been to focus on the positive.  The two kids in my home need my attention more than Molly does.  And when I'm being logical (which is not all that often right now), I know that Molly understands.  She would want me to take good care of her big brother and baby sister.

Speaking of focusing on the positive, how about a birth story?  Since early October, I had been having occasional contractions.  So when I woke up in the early morning hours of October 13th with contractions, I didn't think much of it.  I probably should have thought more of them since they were more regular and painful than I had been experiencing, but I tried to sleep through them.  At some point I fell asleep, and when I woke up I expected the contractions to be gone.  They were not.  But I'm a stubborn girl, so I powered on.  I made pancakes for my family (a little slower than usual with a few breaks to breathe) and insisted that we continue with our plans to go to Eugster's Farm with my sister's family.  By mid-morning, my contractions were consistent, but very short.  My thought was that if I was in labor, I probably had plenty of time before I would deliver.  And I still had a hard time believing I was in labor since I had never gone into labor on my own with either of my two previous pregnancies.  Once we got to the farm, it became more apparent that I was indeed in labor.  We started with a tractor ride, and Deanna and Jake started paying close attention to my contractions.  At that point, they were between 5 and 10 minutes apart, but still fairly short.  They were intensifying, however, and I knew we wouldn't make it for very long at the farm.

The last pic of my baby belly.  38 weeks and 6 days.

After the tractor ride, the kids ate lunch and watched a puppet show.  It became clear very quickly that Brendon and I needed to leave.  My contractions were getting stronger and I was feeling a lot of low pressure.  After kissing Cole good-bye and listening to him cry because he wanted to come with us, Brendon and I walked as quickly as I could to the car.  Deanna kindly took some wonderful photos of Cole after we left to reassure us that he was fine almost instantly after we were out of sight.  She made us a lovely book for Rosie entitled "On the Day That You Were Born" full of photos from the farm and hospital photos.

I love this one.  To me it looks like he is bathed in light from Molly.

We arrived at the hospital at 1:30pm.  Once there, everything moved very quickly.  While in triage, we learned that I was 6 cm dilated.  I was shocked!  And thrilled.  Things were moving, my body had gone into labor on its own, and Rosie's heartbeat was nice and strong.  On the walk to our Family Birth Suite we saw the nurse who had been with us for most of my labor with Molly.  It was wonderful to see Nurse Joy.  We know that Molly's delivery affected the nurses who took care of us, and it was nice to share some happiness with them.  Once in the Family Birth Suite, my body took over.  Things started changing and moving along incredibly fast.  I had planned to try to deliver without medication, partially because medications complicate VBACs, and partially because I was taking a blood thinner called Lovenox during my pregnancy which can cause complications with epidurals.  I did indeed deliver with no medication, but even if I had wanted some, I don't think there would have been time.  (And now that I have gone through this process 3 different ways - C-section, labor with some medication, and a completely natural delivery - I have a new respect for drugs.  I am proud of the way I delivered Rosie, but if we decide to have a fourth child, I fully intend to get some pain relief.)  At 4:34pm, 3 hours after arriving at the hospital and after less than 30 minutes of pushing, Rosalee Hope Dybdahl entered our lives.

7 pounds 13 ounces of pink, healthy, warm Baby Girl

 

Desperately trying to scratch her face.

Early on in my pregnancy, Cole named this baby Rosie.  We aren't completely sure where it came from, but he either named her after a train from Thomas and Friends, a horse from an episode of Franklin, or Caillou's little sister.  Brendon and I have a hard time coming up with names for our babies, so we decided to let Cole's suggestion stick.  It was also important to me to name her early so that I could differentiate this pregnancy from Molly's.  It helped to be able to call her Rosie from 19 weeks gestation, although I'm not going to lie and pretend I never slipped in my head and called her Molly.  Her given name is Rosalee to honor my Grandpa Leroy Dahlen, and my Dad and Brendon's Mom, both who happen to have the middle name of Lee.

Three hours after Rosie was born, Cole came to the hospital to meet his youngest sister.  He brought along Deanna, Jake, his four cousins, and Nana and Poppy.  It was a bit overwhelming to have such a big visit a few hours after giving birth, but we really wanted Cole to come and meet Rosie as soon as possible.  And after waiting so long for this baby, I couldn't bring myself to ask everyone else to wait a day.  If I had, I'm pretty sure James's head would have exploded.

And then less than 48 hours later, we were home.

We are adjusting pretty well to once again having an infant in our home. It's completely different than having only one child at home.  When Cole was a baby, we held him all the time and probably didn't leave the house all that much.  We hold Rosie as much as we can, but it's obviously a lot more challenging with an older child who wants lots of attention.  This lends itself to lots of Mommy guilt, which I'm trying to let go of as much as possible.  I'm exhausted, which doesn't help my emotional state, but still so grateful.  Even through my exhaustion, I know that Rosie is Hope realized.  And, oh, she's just so yummy right now.  I want to soak in every ounce of her newborn deliciousness while I can.

Welcome to the world, Rosalee Hope!  We waited a long time for you.  You are absolutely a well-loved baby.  We are so happy and relieved to have you safe in our arms.  We promise to take good care of you.

It was the tiniest thing I ever decided to put my whole life into.
~ Terri Guillemets