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We weren't exactly planning to have baby #2 so soon after Maddie was born, but 4 years fighting infertility left us both scared that it would be another 4 years before we got lucky again, and therefore, we weren't not trying. In fact, I was starting to get truly worried again, once I'd been through several cycles. It seemed my cycle was back to how it was before I started Metformin, and so I was pretty convinced we'd need help again to get our next baby. I was all prepared in February 2008 to prepare to see a doctor about it again. Maddie was getting close to a year old, and I didn't want our children to be too far apart. Plus with me getting older, we thought it would be better to have babies while I still have any amount of energy.

I can't really say what prompted me to take an HPT that Sunday morning. It was February 3rd, and my period was due. It wasn't late at all really, considering my normal cycle length. I'd even had my typical warning cramps to signal it would come soon. But for some reason, I dug a leftover HPT out of my drawer and took it. I was truly and completely shocked when it turned faintly positive. In fact, it was faint enough that I wasn't sure it was truly a positive result, and not an evaporation line. I couldn't shake the feeling it was positive, though, so the next day, we bought a couple more HPTs and tested again. Again, positive. I called my OB and set up my first appointment. They sent me in to do a urine test in the lab. (Really, can I not be trusted to pee on a stick?) It came out positive for them, too, so... suddenly we found ourselves expecting baby #2 a tad earlier than we expected.

 Pregnancy #2 was far different from the first in many ways. First and foremost, I was not on Metformin. The doctors had told me my blood sugar was fine, and I didn't need it anymore. And so, I hadn't been taking it since Maddie's birth. I don't know how much of the differences in pregnancies can be accounted for for that alone, but everything was very, very different. I had true morning sickness, with all that it implies. I had a mild food aversion, but nothing like the first pregnancy. I lost some weight, but not the free fall like earlier. My ending pregnancy weight was exactly the same as my initial one. But the biggest difference was the size my belly got. I swear, in those last weeks, it wouldn't stop expanding. I barely looked pregnant at 40 weeks with Madeline. This time, there was no mistaking my condition.

And of course, the biggest difference of all, this baby was going to be a boy. Matt was thrilled to find out we were going to be having a son. I felt Madeline would enjoy a sister more, seeing as how they would be so close in age, but I was really glad we would at least be having one of each, if we never get a chance to have more children. Just like Madeline, we pretty much felt inspired with a first name almost immediately, though we vowed not to chose definitely until after he was born and we got to see his face. We went to the hospital with a couple favorite options for first name, and absolutely no clue for a middle name. We spent our pregnancy discussing idea after idea, but nothing seemed to really ring true for us. Madeline was easy. Lily seemed an obvious choice, being the first bouquet of flowers Matt ever gave me. We really wanted something that would also relate to our formation as a family in the same way, but it was very hard to come up with something that would fit for a boy.

And also, because Maddie came 3 days early, this baby was determined to come late. My due date of October 6th came and went, with the same sort of half-contractions I'd been experiencing for a week. It truly wasn't fair. Second babies usually come earlier than first babies, and since Madeline was 3 days early, I fully expected to go into labor well before my due date. But alas, instead my misery was prolonged for several more days. I had an ultrasound 3 days after my due date to check the amniotic fluid level. The OB had a hard time seeing anything but baby in there. We estimated he was going to be very big. My fluid level was starting to get low, and the doctor did not want to risk me lasting the weekend, and so, Friday morning, we checked into the hospital at 9am to be induced.

Induction had really been something I had wanted to avoid. The pitocin really amplified my contractions the first time, and unlike what most women say, I never forgot that pain. I didn't want to go through that again, and I was still holding onto the hope that I could go epidural free. I was counting on the myth of second babies coming in half the time as first babies as holding true, and therefore hoped for a really fast labor. But, my body would not cooperate. By the time we went to the hospital, I'd been having mild contractions off and on for at least 36 hours. But they weren't long or regular, and therefore didn't qualify as true labor. We'd already had 3 false labor starts, and so we did not rush to the hospital thinking it was time.

We finally finished preliminaries and got settled into our birthing room. The nurse hooked me up to the moniters and said I was actually having 3 contractions in 10 minutes, which qualified as active labor. That was a little surprising, but it didn't last long. The contractions slowed again as I lay there. At 10:30am, they decided to go ahead and start the pitocin to help things along. They put it on the lowest dose (what the nurse called a "whiff") to see if that would get my body into action, but it didn't seem to do much. I was all prepared for the pitocin to kick my contractions into high gear like last time, but I still plodded along, feeling nothing more than normal period cramp-like pain. The nurse came in occasionally to bump up the pitocin dose, but mostly we sat and waited.

Our midwife finally showed up to check in on us around 1pm. She checked my cervix and announced I was at "a very stretchy 7cm". I was absolutely floored. I still cannot believe I had progressed that far with so very little pain. She offered to rupture the membranes to really get things moving, and asked if I wanted an epidural first. I debated for long moment. I didn't know how bad the pain was going to get, but so far I had had very little pain. I really wanted to go completely natural if I could. Plus, I figured, at 7cm, if things moved really fast, I would likely not be in pain for long. I finally decided to try it epidural free, with the nurse's promise that I could still get one later if I wanted.

So, the midwife broke my water, and said she'd be back in a bit to check on us. We were left alone to progress (or not) as I would. Over the next hour, the contractions got hard rather fast. Each one was significantly more intense than the last, and after an hour, I began to feel a lot of pressure and a need to push. The nurse checked me again, said I was only at 8cm, and not to push. I got really discouraged. I was already in a tremendous amount of pain, and thought I'd be further along than that. But I did my best not to push, breathing through the contractions as best as I could.

It didn't last long though. It was like my body took control, and it began to be impossible not to push. The nurse went to find the midwife, who checked me again and agreed that I was still not 10cm, and to try not to push. I think she could see, though, that it was becoming pretty impossible, and she went ahead and got everyone set up for delivery. The baby was coming whether I was ready or not. I never knew if I ever reached 10cm. Pretty soon, I felt the head crown. I tried to push as slowly as I could, and the midwife and nurses worked hard to ease his head out. It took another several pushes to get his shoulders out, and finally, our beautiful little boy arrived.

Ethan August was born Friday, October 10th, 2008 at 2:54 pm. He weighed 8lbs 7oz, was 20.5" long, and had a head circumference of 14.5cm. All the nurses exclaimed in awe at how big his head was. Apparently 14.5cm is huge, and they all declared our boy must be a genius. All Matt and I could do was look at each other and say "wow!" Ethan was almost 3 whole pounds bigger than Madeline was at birth, and he looked it. He was chubby already with baby fat. Ironically, despite his bigger size, I tore far less than I did with Madeline. Ethan scored an initial apgar score of 8, due to how purple he was when he came out, and a 9 at the 5-minute re-check, due to how long it took him to "pink up". He was just perfect though, and immediately took to breastfeeding to my enormous relief.

Ethan had no problem latching, and was a strong eater right from the start. We hoped it would be a sign that we wouldn't have to repeat the "failure to thrive" problems that we continue to have with Madeline. He's continued to grow at an amazing rate, weighing already over 9lbs at his 2 week checkup, and over 11 lbs at one month, which put him in the 80th percentile for his weight. He hit 14lbs around 2.5 months, which is how much Madeline weighed at 9 months. Talk about two opposite ends of the extremes! We finally decided to give him August for a middle name, to commemorate the month that Matt and I met.

He's a beautiful baby, and we feel so blessed to have him here at last. We hope he and Madeline will grow to be great friends, and look forward to watching Ethan's personality develop. We just couldn't be more in love with him, and feel incredibly lucky to have added him to our family.