Eames' Birth Story

Growing up I always thought I would have four children. Maybe because that is what I came from. It was my plan. However, after the reality of having two and the hardships that come with parenting, I didn't know that I could be a brand new mother again. My worry was that the stresses would overtake the joy and goodness that children bring. I want so badly to be the best mother that I can be and I feared that adding children to our family would make me "crazy mom". But I kept wondering if our family really was complete. It felt good and fine, but I was terrified that in five years I would regret not having another… and I really didn't want a 6+ year gap between Stewart and a baby. So I talked with Paul and we decided to start trying.

After 3 weeks I started panicking! I didn't think I could do it all over again. I expressed the craziness that was going on in my mind with Paul. We decided to go to the temple that night so that I could feel at peace with something. All throughout the session I didn't feel a clear answer one way or the other. As Paul and I met up in the Celestial Room he said that maybe we should just take a little break for now. Not that it meant we wouldn't ever try again, but that we should just wait to decide if it was something we really felt was right. I liked that idea, a lot.

A few nights later I got a little belly. In the back of my mind I freaked out a little wondering if somehow I was pregnant. But I calmed and convinced myself that it was probably just something I ate that made me a little bloated because even if there was a little baby, there is no way my body would already be changing. The next morning I woke up to my normal sized belly and felt silly for even worrying. But then, the same thing happened the next day…and the next. So finally one night with my popped out belly I walked up to Paul as he was sitting at the computer desk. I just looked at him and pressed my shirt against my sides so that he could see the full effect. He looked at me and said, "Have you been pregnant for months and we just didn't know?!" I said, "No, that isn't even possible!"

The next morning Paul went to the airport for a business trip, I went to All-A-Dollar for some pregnancy tests. After taking about 3 in the next couple days and not getting a clear resolute, I finally called up the doctor's office and asked to come in and take a test. It was positive…

The doctor had given me a due date of December 15. At this point my belly was permanently popped, not just at night. I was about 5 weeks.

This pregnancy I really wanted to keep it a secret for at least 12 weeks but hopefully as long as we could. But that just didn't seem possible with my body prepping for full pregnant mode. I had people suspecting very early on. At just 6 weeks I had someone ask me if I was pregnant! There was no hiding it. I knew this little babe was meant for our family, it jumped on the 3 week window we allowed to get pregnant. I took some comfort in that, it was meant to be. I tried to keep my healthy eating habits and good exercise routine as best I could throughout my pregnancy. I exercised every week except two up until I delivered.

I was determined to have a better recovery than I had with Stewart. I wanted to do everything that I could to help those odds. After searching and reading about natural childbirth, I decided I wanted to give it a go. I told Paul about my plan and I could tell he thought I was crazy. I am normally all about pain meds and not a "naturalist" by nature, so I kinda felt crazy myself. But I also know how stubborn I am, and I knew that if people knew of my plan and I set my mind to it, I would do it. So I searched a little more about natural childbirth and talked to anyone that I knew who had done it. I knew I wasn't going to take any classes or do any hypo-birthing techniques, so I just left it at that. I told Paul he needed to be strong for me and help me through it because I knew it would be the hardest thing I would ever do.

Paul was planning some business trips in my last trimester. We figured I would be safe since I was induced with Lily on my due date, and Stew only came one week early. He was leaving for Dallas/Mexico 5 weeks before and England just 3 short weeks before my date. I was a little nervous for that, England is far far away and 3 weeks is cutting it close.

(Now to the actual birth story) It was a Sunday, I was 34 weeks and 6 days. Paul had finished his Dallas training and was traveling to Mexico. It was Stake Conference (hallelujah because with two kids and that far along… I didn't think I could do a full three hours of church). I packed a bunch of coloring books and treats to keep the kids occupied. The night before I had a little panic attack because I couldn't remember feeling the baby's movement much. I knew I had two hours to just sit during Stake Conference so I focused on counting kicks. In an hour I counted about 7 (10 in 2 hours is the goal) so I knew I was doing okay. They were a little softer than normal, but I figured it was getting squishy in there and that was to be expected. After an hour of sitting there I started feeling sick. I could tell I didn't have a fever but my body felt over-heated. I decided it was time to go, one more hour would have started to put me in misery zone. I laid down when we got home and started feeling the baby as strong as ever and my body felt much better.

Later that evening, I put the kids to bed and got all ready myself. I crawled into bed and turned on a movie to help me unwind from the craziness of a Sunday as a single-mom. It was about 10:30 when I felt the slightest bit of water between my legs. I immediately jumped up, grabbed my phone, and ran to the bathroom. I knew exactly what had happened…my water broke! I had a moment where my mind went blank and I had no idea what to do. I didn't have my husband, I didn't have my parents, I didn't have a bag packed, I didn't even have a pad in my house to catch the trickling of water I knew would constantly run down my leg. Then I pulled it together and called my mom in St. George. I told her what had happened to which she replied she would start packing a bag and leave immediately. As much as I wanted her to do that, we both knew that wasn't the best idea. She walked me through what I needed to do even though I knew for myself, in that moment of shock it was nice to have someone telling me to pack my bags and go to the hospital. As soon as I got off the phone with my mom, I called Paul. I felt so bad that this was happening right now and he was miles and miles away. I knew that once he saw it was me calling, he would know it was baby time. Right when he answered, all I could say was "I'm sorry!". Because of international calling rates, I quickly told him my plan and that I would update him as soon as I could. The poor guy was running on no sleep. The night before he had pulled an all-nighter and was in airports all that day. Then I called my mother-in-law to come help.

I grabbed a bag and filled it with the bare necessities that I needed for that night. It didn't quite feel real that I would be having my baby soon. I had always assumed that hard contractions would be immediate once the water had broke. But I felt nothing, other than the slow filling-up of the hand towel I had to use between my legs. There was zero pain, just an anxious feeling. Then I heard a knock at the door and found my in-laws, Joan and Clair, my brothers Dan and Jeff, and my sister-in-law Melanie all standing on my porch. I filled them in on what had happened. Dan, Jeff, and Clair gave me a blessing and then we made a plan. Joan stayed with my sleeping children and Melanie would take me to the hospital.

Once we got there, the nurse check me and I was only dilated to a 2 or 3. She told me that the doctor may choose to put me on antibiotics and try to stop my labor for a few days. The thought of just sitting in that hospital bed alone, while my kids are pawned off wherever, and Paul in Mexico, just sounded depressing. But the decision would be up to the doctor and I wouldn't see him for a few more hours. 

I finally started having some contractions and back labor. Paul had been checking on flights but I hadn't heard from him for a couple hours, come to find out the poor guy had fallen asleep while on his computer. After his little cat-nap, he texted me that the earliest flight he found would get him home at noon. I told him I didn't think he would make the birth and that he should just stay and at least do one of the trainings, then jet home. He didn't like that idea, so he packed his bags back up and ran to the airport.

Then my doctor came in to see me, he didn't look very pleased that I was in there. They checked me again and I think I was about a 4. I explained the situation about Paul and that he could probably be to the hospital at about 1:00 p.m. My doctor said that I had to have the baby at the latest by 4:00 p.m. There is a risk of infection once my water broke and letting baby just hang out isn't safe. I felt like I was playing a bizarre game because I had to keep progressing so they wouldn't pump pitocin through me. But I couldn't go to fast because Paul needed a fighting chance at witnessing his child's birth. The crazy thing was that I could kind of control it. If I stood up I would contract ever couple minutes, but if I sat back in my bed, they were so random and I would go 15 to 20 minutes between contractions. So I tried to dilate at the perfect speed. As if labor isn't physically challenging enough, I had this game over-working me mentally. Thank goodness Melanie was there to help me through it all. Her nursing knowledge paid off and she told me exactly what I needed to say to the nurses to help my situation along.

A few hours later due to the doctor's request, the nurse hooked me up to an IV to give me some pitocin. She knew I really didn't want it because of going natural so she only gave me a little dose. But I could feel the difference, those contractions started getting harder with little breaks in-between. My parents arrived around noon and Andy and Desiree Bell came just after that. Melanie had set up to have Des come photograph the birth and Andy film just incase Paul didn't make the birth.

My sweet dad was so concerned that I was going natural. He kept asking me "why" or if I "need an epidural" or saying "just get some pain medicine, you don't have to feel this". I sure love him and could see his love for me. A tiny ounce of me wanted to give in just to make him feel better, but I couldn't do it.

At 1:40 p.m. someone said that Paul was in the parking lot! I was so relieved! Andy and Des ran down to get some footage of Paul coming into the hospital. I felt myself give in to the pain and work my body had been going through once he was there with me. I didn't feel like I had to be quite as strong because he was there to help me through it. My in-laws, Joan and Clair showed up a few minutes later. The nurse came in again and told everyone to leave that would not be in the room for the birth. This time I wanted it to just be me and Paul. I knew it would be a much more difficult birth than with Stewart and knew I would be most comfortable if I didn't have to worry about others in the room. My parents, Joan, Clair, and Melanie all left to wait in the hall. Andy and Des stayed while the nurse checked to see my progress.

As soon as she did I had the most intense pain I had ever felt. Pain and pressure that I didn't feel ready for. She said I was a 9 and ran out the door to call the doctor. The pain was not letting up. I was trying to brace myself on the bed rails, or on Paul. I kept inching up the bed trying to get away from the shock of it. Then my doctor along with a lot, way more than I had expected, nurses came rushing into the room. I asked my doctor, "Why didn't you talk me out of this natural business!?" Up until this point going natural had been completely bareable. But the pain that showed up so abruptly and with full force, was taking my breath away. They asked if I wanted to push, but I didn't. I knew I had to but I also knew that the pain would only get worse. I couldn't even imagine how that could be, I didn't know this kind of pain existed. 

After five pushes, an episiotomy with no numbing, and an involuntary scream I didn't know I could even produce, my baby was born. It was 2:18 p.m. The doctor held the baby up and I almost forgot we didn't know if it was a boy or a girl. I looked and Paul said, "It's a boy…right?!" Paul cut the cord and the nurses whisked our baby boy away to be wiped, measured, and checked. My body felt nothing. I think it had experienced such intense feelings that it was numb and almost in shock. They handed me my brand new baby all wrapped up. I knew he was an Eames, it as perfect for him. He wasn't as little as I had expected with him being so early. He looked healthy and perfect. He had to go to the NICU as a precaution because he was 5 weeks premature.

After the doctor stitched me up my family came in. I had an intense feeling that I wanted to cry, hard. Not out of pain or sadness, or even happiness. I just needed to ball my eyes out. I knew that I couldn't because of my family wanting to congratulate me. I held it is so that I didn't have to explain my tears. And I knew it would be hard on my dad to see me crying after he knew what I just went through.

I felt so close to Paul. He had been so good through the birth in staying calm and re-telling me what the nurses told me to do. I can't even imagine how I could have done it without him. I was so grateful that he made it. It was a complete miracle! And I am still amazed to think that he was in Mexico when my water broke and made it with 40 minutes to spare.

Paul left to go help wash baby Eames in the NICU. I have never felt so drained but the lack of pain or pressure felt so good. After moving me to my recovery room, I went with Paul to go see Eames in the NICU. He was under a light and had an IV for antibiotic as another precaution from being in so long after my water broke. They were worried about an infection for him and started treating just in case. He was so perfect and tiny. He weighed 5.05 lbs which they rounded to 5 lbs 1 oz and 17 3/4 inches. He had red hair, like orange-red hair, and he looked like a little bird, just like his sister Lily. I loved him immediately. I felt a connection to him like I had never felt before. My dad and I have a very special relationship and once he told me that he strongly feels that we knew each other in the pre-existence. I felt this way about Eames. His little spirit amazed me. I don't love easily. I have learned that I need to serve someone or be with them for a long time before I gain a deep love towards them. But not with Eames, it was instantly there.

He had to stay in the NICU for a week. I hated leaving him there, it felt wrong. But I knew he was healthy and strong and in good hands. Now looking back I know it was a blessing. I got a week to get good sleep and try to recover because the next few weeks would be difficult and I needed all the strength my body had. I thank my Heavenly Father daily for my beautiful, perfect, healthy Eames and all of the tender mercies throughout my pregnancy, birth, and recovery.

Lily's Birth Story

I have been putting Lily's birth story off because it has been 4+ years I am having to dig back to. It was however, in my top 3 greatest days of my life, so it shouldn't be too hard to remember...

Paul and I found out that we were having a girl the moment we could, it was around 16 weeks. I was a little shocked at first (which is weird because it is a 50/50 chance), because I always imagined myself having a boy first and I thought everyone needed an older brother. Probably because I am lucky enough to have 3 amazing older brothers. But I quickly got over that feeling and was so ecstatic to finally meet and dress up my sweet little baby girl. She was due February 17, 2009. I stressed more than I think is normal about what we were going to call her when I was pregnant. I had sheets and piles of papers that I had "doodled" all sorts of names. Trying to find that perfect one. But none of them seemed good enough. It was such a big deal to me because this would be my baby's name - forever! It had to be perfect. I really wanted a classic, older name and not one that was just in with a trend. I distinctly remember one day sitting on the barstool in my parents' kitchen discussing names with my mom. She said, "How about Lily?!" And I remember just rolling my eyes at her and saying, "Nah".  Then I remember other people telling me not to stress about it because when I met her, I would know what to name her.

So I was getting bigger, and so was she. The weeks leading up to my due date were difficult. I was so ready to have her and I just wanted to take care of my baby and be her momma. At my 39 week doctors appointment I asked him how he felt about inducing. And to my happy surprise, he said that would be fine and when do I want to schedule it. I didn't even know what to say, I was so happy that I could pick a day and know what she would come then. So I told him that mentally, I could not go a day past my due date. So he scheduled me to come to the hospital at 7:00 a.m. on February 17th! I was so excited that this guessing game of when she would be coming was over. I had a day that I knew she would come, and I think that really helped me get through that last week.

The big day finally came, Paul and I drove up to the hospital and arrived right on time. I was ready to get this started! A hospital admin showed me to my room and had me get changed into the lovely, infamous hospital gown. We sat in the room for a bit before Dr. Spencer came in, obviously in a rush to get things started. I was really surprised as he started rummaging through drawers and cupboards trying to find needles and whatever it was that the nurses would have prepped me with before the doctor would have shown up. Almost as antsy as I was, Dr. Spencer started hooking me up to monitors, giving me an I.V. and then pulled out this LONG, metal hook. Then (sparing too many details) he proceeded to break my water. This was not at all what I expected. It was incredibly painful, and I was shocked that within 10 minutes of arriving at the hospital, my water was breaking. It was clear to me then, that I probably wouldn't be sitting around, laboring for too long. Both the doctor and I wanted to get this "show on the road." I started contracting and laboring progressively the next couple hours. As it got worse, I asked the nurse for the epidural. I remember fearing this part the most. Through my pregnancy, as I talked with other young moms, I was warned about the epidural and that in some cases, it was the worst part of the entire labor and delivery. It felt totally unnatural to be hunched over as a very long needle was being inserting into my back. But I just focused on the bigger picture and how it would relieve the pain I was starting to feel more intensely everywhere else. And I had my sweet husband to grab a hold of with both hands and squeeze his to transfer just a smidgen of the pain I was experiencing that day!

My parents arrived as we were waiting, luckily painlessly, for me to get further along in my laboring. I distinctly remember feeling my face swell, like, an insane amount and almost instantly. It was very bizarre because it came on so suddenly and I could feel the skin on my cheeks, neck, and chin growing tight as they expanded. And I knew it was bad when I mentioned to Paul and my dad that I was swelling. Their faces said it all. The nurse put an oxygen mask on me then, not sure if it is just a standard procedure, but it didn't worry me either way. Then as she was checking the computer monitors, she got a little concerned and informed me that the baby's heart rate was dropping every time I would contract. She took me off of the pitocin meds they were giving me through the I.V. that helped speed up the labor. But after a little time of waiting to see if that helped the babe, which it did, but turned out that I completely stopped contracting, and was at a stand-still. The doctor then came in to help me understand what my options were. He explained that they were unsure why the baby was having a difficult time through the contractions. So, they could put me back on the pitocin, and just monitor the baby carefully, or I could go in for a c-section and get the baby out immediately. It was a very easy decision for me, I said I wanted to have them get her out now. He agreed that if it were his baby, he would do the same. It was comforting knowing that I felt good about my decision and that the doctor thought it was also the better option.

So almost immediately, they started wheeling my bed down the hallway and into the operating room. Paul got to stay by my side, but I was disappointed that my parents wouldn't be able to be in the room when I delivered. I had wanted them there, but only the spouse is allowed into the operating room, so they would have to wait a little longer to meet her. The anesthesiologist became my new best friend. Along with Paul, we was up by my head the entire time. He began to give me more medicine through my epidural line that made me numb from my throat down. I remember at one point telling him it was difficult to breath. He said to just relax and breath normally, that it felt like my throat was closing, but that it was just the medicine making it numb. There was an entire little team of nurses getting everything prepared. They put a sheet up vertically by my chest, so that I wasn't able to see anything going on. I told Paul that I wanted him to watch the whole thing, and tell me EXACTLY what was going on behind that sheet after. I wanted all the crazy details. He stood up to watch, they began cutting through my skin and Paul quickly sat back down. He couldn't do it. This part is difficult to describe. I felt a lot of pulling and pressure, and it was just unreal to think about what they were doing. They were getting my little baby out. At 3:15 p.m. she was delivered, I remember having this huge relief when I heard her sweet little cry. I couldn't see her, but I knew that she was perfect from that strong set of lungs I could hear. I was lying there, looking straight up at the ceiling feeling so blessed to have her here when directly above me she came into view floating above the sheet. It was only about a 3 second glimpse of her before they took her back. She was so red and squished. Then the doctor wiped her up and for another 10 seconds, they held her to the side of me so that I could see my precious little baby girl.

Paul went with the baby and nurses into the nursery to get her checked and cleaned up. I laid on the table as they puzzled me back together again. And I really think that is exactly what they did. It felt as though my organs were sitting on top of my belly and one by one the doctor was putting things back where they belonged. It was crazy, wish I could have seen it! He stitched me up and about 30 minutes later I was being wheeled back to my room where my parents and now Paul's parents were waiting. I told them as much as I knew, which wasn't much at that point. Paul came back to the room and said, "She has red hair!" I didn't know if he was serious or not. During the pregnancy we had always joked about it and knew there was a slim chance of it, but to have it actually happen, I was so surprised. Then finally, about 45 minutes after I heard those first cries, the nurse was carrying my little baby girl into the room. Paul handed her to me and it was one of the greatest moments of my life. To finally be holding this precious, heaven-sent, baby that would be mine forever, was amazing. She was perfect, with beautiful, luciously long, auburn hair. It was such a special time being with our parents and holding her. Everything was perfect in that moment.

I remember soon after getting her into my arms, having a little panic thinking, "I have no idea what she looks like, I didn't know what her name would be!" Paul and I had come to the hospital with two names, I favored Lucy, and he wanted Lily. But we liked them both. The day after she was born, Paul very seriously came to me and said, "I think that her name should be Lily." I didn't know what to say, he seemed so inspired my the way he spoke, that how was I suppose to argue with that. Reluctantly, I agreed but I was actually freaking out inside, hoping that was the right decision. And of course, it was. She is our sweet little Lily Ann Heslop.

Stewart's Birth Story

For some time I have been wanting to write about Stewart and Lily's birth stories. It is something that I wish I would have done right after they were born so that I could remember every single feeling and detail. But, better late than never...

My original due date for my little guy was June 4, 2011. For one reason or another - most likely my antsiness towards the end of my pregnancies - I was scheduled to go to the hospital at 3:00 p.m. on May 27th to be induced. I would have preferred an earlier time, but my doctor had two other deliveries that day and wouldn't be available until then. I knew that the time from when I woke up that morning until it was finally time to make the drive to the hospital would last a life-time. I am aware of my low-level patience. So I wanted to make sure that I kept busy to fill up the time. I planned on packing my hospital bag that morning and wanted to make one last run to Target with only one child in my arms. This was my plan!

7:00 a.m. on May 27th, I woke up with low abdominal pains. I didn't think too much about it and started my day. Showering, feeding and dressing Lily, doing my hair (I wanted to make sure that I felt as cute as I could rockin' a hospital gown because of the amount of pictures that were bound to be taken). And all this time, I was contracting and probably in the first stages of labor. I decided to start timing them and sure enough, they came on every 5 - 7 minutes. By mid-morning I tried to start packing. I say "tried" because it was so difficult!! My mind was in a fritz, I couldn't think straight. Plus, I had to make a bathroom visit every 2 minutes! All I wanted to do was just lay in bed and watch some mindless t.v. show because that was all my mind was capable of in that moment. But I willed through it and finally got all packed with a small hospital bag for me and the new babe; it only took about 2 hours to do so! After this whole ordeal at home, I still needed to make my Target run. I was determined to get my list of items that I am sure Paul would have been very capable of getting himself. So I packed up Lily and off we went to Target, all the while still contracting every 5 minutes. As I aimlessly walked around, trying so hard to stay focused and surgical in my shopping, I would clutch the shopping cart handles to brace myself each time a contraction would come. I still remember so vividly being in a hunched over position, trying to breath through a contraction when a teenage employee walked by looking frightened at what he was witnessing. As the pain subsided I just laughed to myself, realizing how ridiculous it was that I was basically in labor...shopping at Target with my little two-year old as company.

After feeling so accomplished at Target, I made my way to the Salt's warehouse to sit in on a meeting that Paul was having for the employees. Trying so hard to keep my contractions to myself and not stir up any attention, was impossible. They were getting harder and much more uncomfortable. Finally, it felt like a really long meeting, I told Paul I was in labor. It was around lunch time at this point, to which he explains that he wanted to go to his parents to get some food. That was a huge bummer for me because my doctor had told me not eat anything that day. And that is one of the worst thing you can tell me..."don't eat." So I sat on the Heslop's bar stool, watching Paul enjoy a delish-looking lunch. Joan walked in as I was having a contraction, all bent over and pain-faced. She asked what was going on and I told her I had been contracting all day. To which she quickly replied, "Go to the hospital!" We agreed that it was finally time to go. We got to the hospital around 2:00 p.m. They admitted me and checked me and I was shocked to find out I was dilated to a SEVEN! That was when it finally clicked how crazy I had been to hang around, doing whatever, while in labor. I immediately asked for the epidural, and by this time the contractions were hitting me really hard. The nurse explained to me that they had strategically put me in a room directly across from the Operating Room, just in case. With my doctor's guidance, I had decided to try a VBAC. It can have some complications associated with it, and as my doctor said, "If something goes wrong, it's bad." So not feeling totally at ease about that, I was at least out of pain for the moment with those blessed juices of epiduraliness running through my body.

Soon after, my parents came up. I was really excited to have them here. To be honest, that was really the only reason that I was bummed that Lily was c-section. I wanted both of my parents to be in the room when I gave birth. That may be weird to some people, but when I was about 14, I saw two live births (that is a whole other story). Aside from the initial shock I had as a young girl at what I was seeing, it was the most amazing thing that I had ever witnessed. So because I know what a sacred, special, experience that is, I wanted to share that with my parents.

Lying in the hospital bed, waiting for the doctor to come was actually enjoyable. I got to just hang out with Paul and my parents. It was a little strange when right outside the window was a man washing the windows! I was just hoping he would be gone by the time my legs went into the stir-ups. So as everything was very low-key, all of a sudden the nurse ran over to the computer that was monitoring all of mine and the baby's vitals. She got in a major panic mode. I didn't know what to think because I felt normal and was confused as to what was going on. She didn't explain anything but just said that if you weren't my husband, to get out of the room. My parents were slightly oblivious as to her panic and so I told them they needed to leave. As the  nurse was calling for the doctor, I just imagined myself being wheeled right over to the O.R. My doctor then came in, very cool and collected as the nurse was explaining something that was going on (I still don't know to this day what that computer monitor showed her to get her frazzled). But my doctor, being the very laid back guy which I prefer, seemed totally at ease so I didn't worry to much. Then he checked me and I was a 10! "What in the world" I thought, I expected to have a little more time but the doctor started gloving up. The nurse informed me that it was time and she let my parents back into the room. As they were getting all prep'ed, I saw a reflective object on the ceiling and asked if it was a mirror. The nurse answered no, but that if I wanted one they could get me one. I was excited and said "Yes!" This may also be weird to some but I really wanted to watch Lily's c-section but wasn't able, so this was my chance.

After everything was all ready, they told me it was time to start pushing. This is the part I feared! I never had to do this with Lily and so I had no idea what to expect. As I was pushing, I felt as if I was "faking" the whole thing. And I was nervous they were going to call me out on it. The epidural was working beautifully and so I wasn't able to feel anything. I had no idea if I was actually pushing, I just scrunched my face up and mustered up any muscles that I could still control and hoped for the best. They had me do a few series of these "pushes", each one lasting about 10-15 seconds. And then through the mirror I saw the doctor grab a pair of scissors. That wasn't awesome, but I figured whatever got my sweet baby out was fine by me. I pushed a couple more times and all of a sudden I could see his head! I was so surprised that I just relaxed and completely stopped pushing. The doctor reminded me to keep going, I wasn't done yet. So I got one more push out and out he came! I couldn't believe that he was actually here. The entire pushing process was only about 15 minutes, I was expecting it to be a bit longer than that. It was amazing to be able to see my little baby! When I had Lily, I only saw her for about 10 seconds floating above my head before they whisked her away to be bathed while the doctor put me back together.

It was such a beautiful sight to hear my baby boy crying and see his healthy, thick little body as the doctor cleaned him up. It is always a fear in the back of my mind throughout the pregnancy, hoping that everything will be perfect with my baby. And to finally know that he was healthy and perfect, was amazing! Little Stewart Paul was 7 lbs 12 oz and 20 inches long. Perfect!

Lily was on her way up to the hospital with the Heslop's. I had anticipated this moment almost as much as meeting the little guy myself. Lily was absolutely in love with babies and would point them out anywhere that we went. I was so excited for her to have a brand new little baby that she could hold, poke, kiss, and hug. When she came in she was a little timid at first, but especially in the next couple days as she visited us in the hospital, she was in love. And so was I. It was a crazy idea that I had "children" but I felt so much more complete. My little family was everything that I wanted and I felt so blessed.