Being Breanne: August 2014

With the new addition to our family, the end of July, beginning of August was pretty jam-packed. We were vaguely aware of the Fair coming into town and made little effort to get ourselves there, preferring instead the cocoon we had created for ourselves. But when we discovered that we were in its last weekend, we decided our summer just wouldn't be the same without a trip to what I can only describe as the nation's patrons of Wal-Mart dumped onto one place.

Ready for a family (a)Fair!

First thing's first: conquer the Ferris Wheel. Before we left the house, Zoey told me, "This year I'm 3-years old so I'm not going to be afraid of the Ferris Wheel." And with Daddy's help, she wasn't!

Then we rode some other Fair favorites. The kiddie rides are scary enough for me, thanks.

Zoey was big enough this year to do some rides by herself.

And told me during this year's carousel ride, "Could you please not hold on to me?" *SNIFF*

Holden found it all extremely exciting.

The ride on the grass was especially thrilling.

After rides, we did our second - and only other - favorite thing at the Fair - Fair food! (And, of course, the people watching and their impeccable taste in fashion.)

We spent a couple of hours trying to convince ourselves that the money we were spending would be worth the memories before calling it another year to put in the books. Actually, we ran out of ride tickets, were full on foot-long corn dogs and beer, and it started raining. It wasn't excitement-packed but it was a fun night out for the family, and pretty much all we can handle at the moment as we slowly get used to being responsible for the well-being of two little people. And it was definitely a great continuation of our Fair tradition.

In the grand tradition of McIntyreDonahue children (i.e. Zoey), the newest McBun did not disappoint. My due date came...And went...with minimal indication that he had any ideas of being born. Besides being a little disappointed, I was also a little surprised. I've been a lot more active this pregnancy since I don't spend my days sitting behind a desk. I painted, decorated, climbed two flights of stairs multiple times a day hauling laundry, walked the dogs every night, and played with Zoey - within reason; no matter how nicely she asked, hula-hooping just wasn't going to work. I did everything in my power to get things started. Well, almost. I don't like spicy food, and you couldn't pay me to do the other thing. But baby was not to be persuaded by anything but his terms, most notably by deciding to come 24 hours before I was scheduled to be induced.

I don't know if it's because I've been pregnant and given birth before, or because this was my second pregnancy and everything is a bit...looser, but I slowly started to feel my body change shortly after my due date became a distant memory. I was having pretty consistent but relatively painless contractions a few days before shit got real but my doctor appointments revealed nothing really happening - baby was still relatively high and I was barely dilated. So he scheduled me an induction, not being very confident that McBun was ready to be evicted. So, knowing it would be my last, I made one more homemade chocolate cake and frosting for after my homemade Eggplant Parmesan. (TOOT! TOOT!) Seven hours later is when shit got real.

I woke up around 2:45am with contractions I couldn't pretend were an uncomfortable dream. I loaded up my Contraction Timer app and settled in for a day of mind-numbing pain. But what was this? My contractions were coming five to ten minutes apart? No, that's not right. Like labor with Zoey, they were supposed to come 20 minutes apart for 25 hours, giving me plenty of time to prepare for this sadistically blessed event. And - most importantly - make sure I got the epidural before shit got really real.

By 8am, I could no longer walk during a contraction, standing made it feel like all of my insides were going to fall out of my butt, and screaming became a very real possibility. At 8:04am we were on the road to the hospital, which is - thankfully - only about three miles away. With only 30ish seconds in between searing pain, Jacob thoroughly enjoyed driving like a maniac a la every movie or TV show with a birth you've ever seen. I went through triage and was granted permission into the Chamber of Everything Changes, literally telling everyone I came in contact with that I'd be needing a visit from the Epidural Man. I just wanted to make sure we were all on the same page: I wanted an epidural.

Epidural Man turned out to be Epidural Lady and arrived sans cart o' drugs in tow.

"Oh, I forgot to get the cart, I haven't been able to leave her (me)," said my nurse, who, in my pain-delirious state, reminded me of a My Little Pony.

"Where is one?" asked Epidural Lady. Are you fucking kidding me?! Why do you not tug around two at a time just for moments such as these?!

"There's one down by triage," Nurse MLP informed Epidural Lady. Run! Run like the wind, Lady!

The sacred cart finally arrived, and the pain and fear gently subsided as the warmth of a local anesthetic slowly ran down my legs and into my toes.

Completely relaxed, I was able to rest up for the main event but was still having contractions like gang-busters. After monitoring my contractions for a while, the nurses informed me that I was having irritants - like, mini-contractions - in between my main contractions. Apparently, my body was taking no prisoners. Although I could not - Praise the Lord! - feel much of what was going on down south, the nurses told me I was progressing quickly and estimated McBun would be born by 2pm that afternoon, a far cry from Zoey's birth, which took another 13 hours after checking into the hospital, even after being given Pitocin.

Shortly after 11am, Nurse MLP began rolling me from side to side (hour on one side, hour on the other) in an effort to get McBun further down. I could vaguely feel my contractions and she said her goal was for me to feel the urge to push. I wasn't really sure what she meant by this, with Zoey, they just told me it was time to push, I cried and said, "I DON'T WANNA!" and then I pushed. But oh holy crap, there it was! It wasn't so much an urge to push as it was something trying to push its way out of me. The doctor requested I perform a test-push then declared me ready to have a baby.

Once, twice, three times, McBun was born! At 12:40pm, weighing in at 7 pounds, 2 ounces, 19 3/4 inches long. And so, we are pleased to introduce the newest star of Montana Roadtrippin', Mr. Holden Darcy McIntyre.

A BIG welcome from the BIG sister. She wanted to look *just* right for her visit to the hospital to see her new baby brother for the first time. Like the rest of us, she's completely smitten, is constantly declaring how "adorable!" he is, and we've actually had to stop her giving him kisses. It will be nice to tell them of these days when they're older and fighting like cats and dogs.