Cast Off

     Will's cast is off!  I am so glad!  While I am glad that it was on to protect his leg, I have missed being able to squeeze his cute, fleshy leg.  I didn't like the cast!  I could tell that he was hot and miserable with it on.  And I was really excited for him to be able to take a bath again.  He loves to splash and play in the water!  On the flip side, I can't deny that his foot is really gone.  I miss it.   A lot.
   We went to our appointment to get his cast off and I think both Mike and I were more excited than nervous.  I was so relieved that his cast had never fallen off beforehand and having seen the picture of his leg from the dressing change I felt prepared to see his leg without his funky foot.  The wait to see the doctor took forever, but then when the doctor came in everything happened really fast.  Boy, his leg was so protected in that cast!  She did an awesome job of bandaging his leg and protecting it- no wonder he never seemed to be bothered when he put weight on his leg!  While taking the cast off, she stopped probably 3 times to make sure Mike and I were okay.  It was like she was unveiling the next stage of our lives.  It was okay.  I didn't really think about what was happening because I was just happy for his leg to breath again and to not have to be in that cast anymore.  His incision still had to be covered and protected so she showed us how to bandage it and then cover it with a special sock to keep swelling down.  Then that was it!  We could go home!

     We could tell that he liked having that cast off.  We put him on the floor and he was off and crawling!  When he got to the kitchen floor he tried banging his leg on the floor like he would do with the cast.  Bad idea, buddy.  That hurt.  I think he did that with the cast because maybe the vibrations would help "itch" his leg.  Well, he doesn't do that anymore!  We can't go swimming yet, but he can take a bath for a few minutes at a time.  Not what we were hoping for, but we'll take it!
     The next morning is when I got hit by the emotional tornado.  I went to the gym and just cried in the theater room while on an elliptical machine.  (That's not exactly new for me- I am the crazy crying lady at the gym.  I admit it.)  I made it home and just had to sit on my porch and cry some more before I could go in my house and be the mom my sons need me to be.  I am by no means a perfect mom, but I am trying to be what each son needs me to be.  You moms know- it's hard.  Sometimes it's still hard to be brave...
   

Dressing Change

     Will was doing so good!  Surgery was Thursday.  We came home Friday and the last dose of oxycodone we gave him was Friday night at midnight.  After that we were able to control the pain with Tylenol and Motrin.  Of course we were giving it to him about every 3 hours (first Tylenol, then Motrin, etc.) so it was like having a newborn again.  The doctor told us to do this until we came back in for the dressing changes and for the most part we were able to stay ahead of the  pain and he was a pretty happy guy. 
     Six days after surgery he had the dressings changed.  The doctor wanted to put him out again so the experience wouldn't be so painful or traumatic.  I agreed, I imagined there would be bloody bandages stuck to his leg that would hurt when peeled off and that he would make things worse if he were crying and kicking.  The had to schedule an operating room and we had to go through the same process (no food after midnight, no formula after 2 and no clear liquids after 6).  Since it was just a dressing change I told Mike to not take off work and that I would take him in and be okay by myself.  It was a different drive in- I knew the worst or the hardest part was over.  I knew that this time when I handed him over it wouldn't be so hard.  I didn't cry at all.
     When we got to the hospital we checked in, and they did all the same things as they did before surgery.  It was weird to go through it all again, but for a different purpose.  It was definitely easier!  They gave him the medicine to help him relax, and when I handed him over my brave face didn't have any tears.  That time it was easy to be brave.  While he was gone I went and got some breakfast and waited for them to call me back.
     It wasn't long before a nurse came and found me and asked me to come to the recovery room.  She said that he was crying a lot and they couldn't get him to calm down.  I knew it was because he was hungry!  Sure enough, I got in the room and gave him a bottle and he calmed right down and went back to sleep.  We thought he would sleep for an hour or so and then we could go home hopefully around 10 or 11.  He actually slept a lot longer and I didn't go home with him until almost 1:00. 

     The doctor gave us the option of seeing a picture of Will's leg.  I didn't know if I was ready to see it, but Mike really wanted to.  So while the doctor was changing Will's dressings she took a picture and e-mailed it to me.  I was afraid to see it.  I had envision his stump to be red and swollen and painful looking.  I didn't know if I wanted to see that owie on my baby.  Curiosity won out and I looked at the picture.  So not what I was expecting!  It wasn't red or swollen or painful looking at all!  It didn't even look bruised!  It looked so good!  You can see the doctor's initials on his leg, M.W. (which I like because those are his initials too- just in different order!)  Seeing his leg, without that funky foot, in a picture helped me.  It helped me "see" that Will's foot was really gone.  But there was still a part of me that was in denial.  It was easy to be in denial when I couldn't see or touch his leg.  It was all hidden under the bandages and the soft cast.  I was worried about really seeing his leg without his foot for the first time.  I know of 3 families with children that have similar issues.  All 3 families had their baby's cast come off before it was supposed to.  I knew that if his cast came off before the doctor took it off I would have a hard time.  Depending on the circumstances, I knew it would be a pretty shocking and slightly traumatic experience.  So I hoped that it would stay on, but I knew that if it didn't that his leg was okay and what it would look like. 
     [I have really debated on whether or not to post the picture for others to see.  I have decided not to because I think it has the potential of freaking some people out.  If I could figure out a way to post a link to the picture so that those who want to see could click on the link, and those who don't won't have to see it, I would.  But I don't know how, so sorry!]
     In the meantime, Carter and Matt have handled everything really well.  They sure love their brother!  They still try to include him in their playing yet are protective and very careful to make sure he doesn't get hurt.  Carter loved taking him for rides in the jeep, while Matt would follow along on his rollerblades.

Will has loved to be outside even though he can't get wet.  I feel so bad because I will get his hair and face and arms and other leg wet when it's so hot and we're outside- and he'll try to take the water away from me to put on his cast.  Poor kid!  I know he's hot and uncomfortable, but he's been such a trooper!  He gets around to wherever he wants to go in the house (even places I would rather he not get to!) and he thinks it's hysterically funny to lay on the kitchen floor and bang his leg on the ground because of the thuncking noise the cast makes.  You'd think it would hurt and that he would avoid doing that...  I am thinking that when the cast comes off and he can't do that anymore, bath time will make up for it!  He's gonna love taking baths again!

Doing so GOOD!

Last night wasn't too bad!  He got up once and we gave him a bottle and some meds and Will went back to sleep.  This morning he just played and loved us!  Mike took him for a walk around the neighborhood (he really seems to enjoy being outside!  Mike says Will is definitely my son :) )  Will slept for a while then woke up and wanted to play. 

Here are some video clips so you can see how mobile he is.  Keep in mind his surgery was on Thursday and today is Saturday.  I am pretty sure that if I had my foot amputated 2 days ago I wouldn't be this happy or this mobile!

     We are so grateful for how well he is doing!  I have been able to stay on top of the meds and he doesn't seem to be in pain.  I think from here we will just keep getting better and better!

We are home!

Last night was kinda rough.  Will was frustrated with the IV in his hand and the oxygen reader in his foot.  He kept trying to rip them off and he was very agitated.  For a while he would only sleep if I was holding him.

He wasn't eating much and that worried me.  He fought us any time we tried to give him any meds.  They would get spit all over his face and clothes and blankets.  He was a mess.  When he woke up early in the morning I put him in the wagon and we just circled the floor.

 He fell asleep and finally looked comfortable like he was really resting.
    I didn't have the heart to put him back in the crib and get hooked back up to all the monitors.  But I also really needed to get some food.  I didn't know where our nurse was so I just asked the man at the desk if he would listen for Will and let our nurse know where I was. He was totally cool with that.  When I came back 10 minutes later, Will was still asleep in the wagon, but he was out at the desk with the other two men.  They were getting a lot of attention from other women walking by and commenting on how cute Will was.  I thought that was pretty funny.  He was very well taken care of while I was gone!

     Will woke up again about the time Mike came.  He was so happy to see his dad!  He hugged and kissed Dad then took the sticker off Mike's shirt and started playing.  Mike would take it away and stick it to Will's face then Will would take it off and wave it around.

 We gave him a sponge bath and got him dressed.  He was looking and feeling good.  We could tell he was feeling much better!

 He and Mike played for a while then we went for another ride in the wagon.

 

 While we were out and about we talked to other families.  One of the families had a little boy who is a double amputee that had just gotten 2 new legs.  He was awesome!  He was doing everything any other kid his age could do and was acting like a normal little boy.  Very cool!

     We went back to our room and got ready to be discharged.  We finally got rid of the IV!

We got more meds and got to come home!  Will fell asleep right before we left, so our ride home was much better than our ride in.

     We are home!  I am so glad!  So is Will.  He is playing with his toys and is eating much better.  He just seems more comfortable all the way around.  He sure loves his Daddy!

He is even attempting to crawl around and it doesn't seem to hurt or bother him at all!  My goal is to stay on top of his meds and keep ahead of the pain.  We also have to make sure that Will doesn't try to take off the dressings on his leg.  I am a little nervous for tonight, but even if we're up a lot, we're home.  Our family is all together again.   Yay!!!

Update

I am not a fan of waiting, just so you know.  They paged us to go to our room and there was an anesthesiologist that told us he was out of surgery and they were just waiting for him to wake up.  We would probably see him in 30 min.  Then the surgeon came in and gave us an update (I will give details later) then she said we should see him before 11:00.  Waiting, more waiting, the surgeon came back again to reassure us that he was fine, just not wanting to wake up- but that he was smiling and having good dreams because at one point he even giggled.  More waiting.  Finally around 1:00 a nurse came and found us.  She said that Will was in another room so they were going to move us there.  She went on to rave about how cute he is and that he was playing with some toys.  I was very encouraged by that!  However, by the time we got to the room he was NOT happy.  As we got closer to the room we could hear him crying.  I knew that he was hungry so I was gearing up to get in the room and make a bottle as fast as I could.  That was the frame of mind I was in so I was slightly caught off guard when I walked in and saw his leg for the first time.  I was in shock, not that I was surprised, just not quite as mentally prepared as I should have been.  His foot was gone, and all that was there was a bandaged stump.  Again, obviously not a surprise, but I wasn't quite ready for that.  I was able to make a bottle and get myself under control, but even after many hours I am still kinda shocked and unsettled with what I am seeing (or not seeing depending on how you want to look at it).
     Unfortunately Will's crying continued.  We couldn't comfort him.

He wasn't himself and we didn't know if he was in pain or just freaking out.  We tried holding him, bouncing him, etc. and it didn't help.

 They gave him pain meds.  We kept trying to comfort him, nothing helped.  They gave him Valium.  We tried taking him for a walk in a wagon.

 Still crying.  Gave him morphine, finally after almost an hour he stopped crying but we could tell he was not comfortable.  I just held him and loved him and talked to him until he settled down and was able to sleep.

   The surgeon came back and talked to us again, along with the anesthesiologist.  They don't think he had been in physical pain, just more freaking out because of being restrained and the effects of the drugs from surgery (they weren't able to do the block behind his knee as planned instead they had to do it in his tail bone).  The doctor told us that the next time he woke up things would be better.  Luckily they were.
     My mom brought Carter and Matt in to see Will and that's about the time he woke up.  He was groggy and lethargic.  So not acting like himself, but not distressed like before.  We put him back in the wagon and went for another stroll around the play area while the other boys played.  He drank some more, but still wasn't himself.
     Now, he is awake again and trying to chew on all the tubes and hoses that he can get his hands on. He hates his IV so we have to keep it covered.  But he is sitting up playing in the crib and we are getting ready to go for another stroll.

He's starting to act like the baby I know him to be.  Hopefully he will keep getting better and better.
     We'll see how the night goes, but I am looking forward to some snuggle time and hopefully a few smiles and giggles!

Send off

We got up early and I could tell it would be an emotional day.  I couldn't even make it through taking a shower without crying.  When we got Will up he cried.  He was mad that we weren't feeding him.  I dressed him in an outfit with a lion on the front that said "Roar!" Because I got that Katy Perry song in my head.  He is a champion and we will hear him roar.  Luckily he stopped crying shortly after getting in the car.
    We hit a lot of red lights on the way to the hospital.  Then when we got here we had to wait a while to be admitted.

It was taking so long that our doctor/surgeon even came down herself to see if we were coming.  Finally the X-rays were done and we went upstairs to really get started.  Everyone here is so nice and compassionate!  They talked to us about what was going to happen and they let me and Mike hold him the whole time.

 To make things easier they also gave him some medicine to help him relax and to help with the separation anxiety.  I was glad because I knew it would be harder to hand him over if he was crying.  I just held him and loved him.

 I held and loved and squeezed his foot for the last time.

 I can almost still feel it.  Then I was really brave.

 I handed him off to a very nice nurse.  I did it.  And then I broke down and just cried into Mike's shoulder he just held me and we cried together for a moment.  That was so hard.  Then we walked out of the room we were in and turned the opposite direction of our baby.
     He won't be same when we see him again.  I already miss that foot.  I am waiting to hold him and love him again.  The next time I see him he'll be different.  But he'll be better.  As much as I will always love that funky foot, it was holding him back.  Now we start on the road to getting better and better- with no limitations.

The Day Before

I woke up with a peaceful feeling and it stayed with me all day.  I am so grateful for that because it allowed me to enjoy the last moments with that funky foot, but also be a mom.  Carter and Matt wanted it to be a special day for Will.  They started out with a special breakfast consisting of pancakes and sausage.  Since Will can't eat those things he ate bananas.  Then they wanted to do something fun for Will's last day with his foot, So they painted their pinewood derby cars.  We made one for Will too.  Will's special day turned out to be a good day for those brothers.  It was a good day.  We've been surrounded by friends and family and well wishes and prayers.  We feel those prayers.  They have given me strength.  Thank you!

     I loved giving him his bath.  He loves to kick and splash and play.  I love that cute little baby body.  As I got him out and dried him and lotioned him I loved every little part of that body.  I gave extra kisses and tickles to that foot.  It was the last time I would bath and wash and lotion it.  I did it with lots of love.
     As I rocked Will to sleep I loved him as much as I could.  I just held that cute little funky foot.  I tried to memorize how it felt in my hand.  Warm and soft with his pinkie toe fitting between my fingers.  As I tickled his foot I cherished how it felt to have those toes curl and squeeze my hand.  I hope I never forget how that feels!  Oh how I love that foot!  I love this boy so much.  I can't put into words the intensity of the feelings I have for him.  I just LOVE him.  I will forever.  I think I always have and I know I always will.

I'm on Team Will, are you?

As I mentioned in an earlier post, we did not know what to name Will when he was born.  With our other two boys we had just been able to take the name Leprechaun off the table, but Luigi was still on.  I kept telling Carter that Luigi was an Italian name and since we're not Italian we couldn't name our baby that.  Carter didn't care- he wanted to name the baby Luigi anyway.  The boys knew that it was really up to mom and dad to name the baby - not them, but we had wanted to involve them as much as possible in everything baby related so that the transition would go smoother.  After Will was born and we could see that there were problems with his leg and foot, we tried to explain the situation to those cute boys by comparing him to Nemo.  (You know, the cartoon movie about the fish with a "lucky fin")  I was worried that then they would want to name him Nemo, but luckily that didn't stick!
     Without going into too many details, I wanted a name for our baby that would have some family significance.  I wasn't particularly named after anyone, but I imagine that there is some sort of strength that comes to those who are.  I figured our little guy could use all the help and strength he could get. I had Mike call my grandma from the hospital to ask about some of my ancestors.  She started telling the story of a pioneer ancestor who was born on Angel Street and sacrificed a lot to come to America and live with the LDS saints.  As she told Mike this story, his whole demeanor changed and as he got off the phone he told me that we needed to name our angel baby William because he was going to have the WILL to walk. 
    A couple weeks later, as I was at Will's two week appointment with our pediatrician (whom we LOVE) I had another epiphany.  We were talking about the different doctors we would be seeing and the process we were going to have to go through to make decisions, etc.  Dr. Doug was describing a whole team of people that would be involved in everything.  I was worried that he would maybe be retiring soon and I wanted so much for him to be a part of everything and help us through everything with Will.  I trust Dr. Doug and it was a scary thought to not have him involved.  I asked him if he would be around and if he would be on Team Will.  He told me that he would be with me every step of the way!  :)  That was super comforting, but what stuck with me was that I had said "Team Will".  When I said it, I was implying that he would help me navigate through the decisions that would give Will the most opportunities, and the best chance for having the least amount of limitations- for a realistic price.  I was concerned that there would be people who would handicap our baby by not pushing him or allowing him to reach his full potential. I wanted a team of people who would help us give our son every opportunity possible.  People who would be on Team Will, not Team Maybe or Team Try.  Team WILL.  We wanted to find a way that he WILL walk.  We knew it would take determination and grit and sacrifice to make it happen, but we also knew it was possible. 
     We need people who WILL help us make it happen and not let us get down or give up or be negative.  We WILL overcome many set backs and limitations and our baby WILL walk someday.  Mike and I (okay, mostly me) may need shoulders to cry on and people to lean on along this journey.  We need people who will let us get the sadness and frustration and sometimes despair our of our system and then help us get back on our feet and keep going. We need people surrounding us who are on Team Will and who will encourage us and uplift us.  We need people who will love Will and cheer him on.
     As I have thought about this, it's occurred to me many times that EVERYONE has their own trials and tribulations.  Everybody has set backs and limitations and hardships and problems.  Aren't we all, to some degree, in the same boat?  Trying to overcome and be better and be happy?  Don't we all need people surrounding us who will encourage and uplift us and help us keep going?  So I invite you, not only to join us and help us in our journey, but yours as well.  Will you be on Team Will?

1 More Week...

I know this is jumping around a lot- I wanted to tell our story in chronological order, but I am having trouble focusing and remembering everything right now.  So I am going to just start writing for this moment forward and I will have to go back and fill in the blanks later...
      Just one week from today is surgery.  Part of me is really FREAKING OUT.   Am I really going to hand my son over  to have his foot cut off?  Who does that to their child?  Their beautiful, innocent, and happy baby?  He has no idea what's coming and he doesn't have any say in this action that will have a huge impact on his life.  What kind of a person am I to choose to do something so barbaric?
     Maybe I should back up a little for those who don't know...  Will has Fibular Hemimalia.  His left femur (thigh bone) is only about half as long as the femur in his right leg.  He also has no fibula (one of the two bones in your calf) and no 5th metatarsal (the bone that would go from his ankle to his pinkie toe).  If he were to be in a position where he would be standing on that leg, his ankle would only come to about knee level with his right leg and the bottom of his foot would not be facing the ground- it would be facing out to his left at almost a 90 degree angle.  And his pinkie toe sticks out from his other toes (sometimes we call it his hitch-hiker toe).  In short, there is NO WAY he will ever be able to walk with his leg the way it is.
     I guess there are some specialty doctors back east that claim that they would be able to have a patient like him walking on his own leg by about the time he would turn 18.  18!  For 18 years he would go through excruciating bone lengthening procedures, surgery after surgery, and spend a huge bulk of his life growing up in a hospital.  I don't want that for my son.  That's not the life I want for him- that's not the way I want him to grow up.  I want him to grow up in our home, playing with his brothers and friends, going to school, etc.  I want him to have a childhood and as close to a normal life as possible.  I also want my other two boys to have as close to a normal life as possible.  I don't want our family separated between home and a hospital all the time.  I don't want Will to be excluded from normal activities- being an outcast.  I want him to be involved in whatever he wants to do.  I want him to be able to have the life he wants to have- with as few limitations as possible. 
     To give him that life we have to amputate.  I hate that we had to make this decision.  I am completely 100% on board with what needs to be done.  I don't doubt that it's the right thing to do.  But I am not sure I am okay with it yet.  I love that funky little foot.  I love those crazy toes.  When each of my babies were little I would snuggle and love them.  I would love their ears and noses.

I would nuzzle and kiss their cheeks. 

I would stroke their arms and legs.  I would hold their hands. They would hold our fingers.

I loved EVERY little part of them.  Will's left foot is no exception.  I love the way the bottom is wrinkled and turned out.  I love the three middle toes that are crowded together.

I love how he curls his toes and foot around my finger when I tickle them. I love that pinkie toe that sticks out and gives me a "thumbs up" as if to reassure me that everything is going to be okay. 

That "thumbs up" that tells me that Will is awesome and amazing and that he thinks I am too.  I love him SO much.  I love every part of him.  And I don't want to give up that awesome funky foot.  I will miss that "thumbs up" SO MUCH.  I can't imagine and don't want to think about it not being there next week.  1 week, that's all I have left to love it.  Next week at this time it will be gone.  I am not ready for that.  I never will be.
     I am trying to be brave.  You probably can't tell, but I have been practicing my brave face.  You know that face that every parent has to put on at one time or another- when their baby is going off to kindergarten, when they go away to scout camp, when they go away to college or go on a mission, etc.  My brave face still has tears streaming down my cheeks and my lips pursed to try to keep from breathing so that uncontrollable sobbing doesn't burst out.  That's my brave face right now.  It's not pretty.  But the more important thing is that I will be there for my baby, doing what's best for him even though it's hard.  REALLY hard.  I told Mike months ago that I didn't think I would be able to hand my sweet perfect baby over to a doctor or nurse the day of surgery.  He told me that I would have to hand Will over to him and he would hand Will over.  My goal now is to be a brave mom and hand him over to that person myself.  Realistically though, I know I won't be able to do it on my own.  I am sure that there will be angels to help me raise my arms to hand him over.  Quite honestly, there will have to be angels to help me open the car door to put him in the car to drive to the hospital and everything else just to get me to the point where I can hand him over to that doctor or nurse.  I am so glad that I have Mike to go through this with.  It's hard for him too, but I know he's strong enough to do it.  And in honor of my most amazing, beautiful, and brave baby, I will be strong and brave too. 
     I just keep thinking of how truly blessed I am.  Things could be so much worse.  I can't imagine all the many millions of ways that things could be worse.  For some reason Heavenly Father has sent this perfect little boy to me.  I am so humbled that He trusts me with this boy.  I don't doubt that this next little while will be bad for me.  That it will be very hard.  I also believe that I will get through it, and that as the days, weeks, and years go by, I will get to witness greatness.  I have a front row seat to awesomeness.  I have the privilege of raising a son who will inspire me and many others in many ways.  He will make me better.  My family will be better.  I also have two other incredible boys who are the best big brothers Will could have.

Words can't describe how much I love them and am proud of them.  I know that I will continually be amazed and inspired by them.  They love their baby brother and will push him beyond his limits all the while being his biggest cheer leaders. We love Will.  We will only love him more and more as time goes on.  We are SO LUCKY!  We are so BLESSED!  We are so LOVED!  And I know this makes no sense, but can things get any better?  Life is good.  I am a very lucky girl indeed. 

We're having a baby!

     First off, I love being a mom.  I love my boys.  I could never have imagined how awesome it is to be a mom and I love it!  Will is my 3rd boy.  When I found out I was pregnant with him I was just as excited as when I was pregnant with my other 2 boys.  Mike and I were both very excited and humbled to become parents again.  My previous pregnancy had ended in a miscarriage and so we were a little nervous, but very hopeful.  We couldn't help but be excited and full of love for this new little person that would hopefully come to our family.  This pregnancy was fine other than I was very sick and nauseous a lot more than I had been with the other boys.  I couldn't even drink regular water without throwing it up.  But like any other mom- I knew it would be worth it!

 Our other boys, Carter (7) and Matt (4), were excited to be big brothers.  When we found out this baby would be another boy Carter cried because he wanted a sister- he already had a brother.  Matt was sad because he felt bad that I was the only "grirl" in our family (so he told me that when he grows up he'll marry me and we'll have a baby "grirl" and then I wouldn't be by myself).  I love those two!  I personally was very excited and relieved to be having another boy- girls scare me!  Anyway, we started talking about what we should name our baby.  The boys were full of ideas like Santa, Leprechaun, Frankenstein, and Luigi.  What it came down to is that we could only agree that his middle name would be Michael after his dad.  We also started talking about what our house would be like with a baby.  Carter assured me that he would get up in the night and take care of the baby so that I could sleep and not be so tired.  Matt was worried that the baby wouldn't like him.  I told him that of course our baby would love him- but that the baby wouldn't be able to play or talk at first, so the way he would know the baby loved him was that the baby would hold his finger.  Both Carter and Matt were happy and excited for our new baby and they would daily hug my belly and tell the baby that they loved him.
     As the end of summer got closer we got more and more excited for our baby.  I was REALLY hoping that he would be born on the 22nd because Carter and Matt's birthdays are also on the 22nd- just of different months.  I went in to the doctor on the 21st and he said we were close enough and the baby was fine- if I wanted to have the baby the next day- on the 22nd- he could make that happen.  I was excited and made the appointment then went to my car and called Mike to let him know we were going to have a baby the next day.  I told him the news and didn't get the reaction I wanted.  He didn't say anything for a while.  Finally he just said that he didn't feel good about it.  He said that he would do what I wanted though.  We talked a while longer and he left it up to me, but I didn't feel good about it either.  So with my face red and swollen with tears running down my cheeks, I got out of my car and waddled back up to the doctor's office to cancel my appointment.  (The office ladies looked like they felt so sorry for me!)  I was still desperately hoping that the baby would come the next day anyway- on his own.  But he didn't.
     A few days later, at around 3:00 AM on the 26th I woke up having a contraction.  No big deal, but I couldn't go back to sleep.  I ended up getting out of bed and doing random things around the house (rearranging book shelves, organizing the shoes in our shoe bench, etc.- I look back and think "seriously!?!") and the contractions gradually got more painful and closer together.  Around 5:30 I started to get ready for the day just in case I would end up going to work.  But then I thought that it would be better to get checked by the doctor first. So instead of heading off to work at my normal time I stayed home and starting making lots of pancakes (Matt will eat pancakes at every meal if we let him!).  It was the first day of school so I thought that the boys would love pancakes and then we'd have extras for them in the fridge to eat  just in case the baby was born.  After a while Mike came downstairs and asked what I was still doing home.  He wondered why I wasn't at work, and was I going to go?  Would I get in trouble?  I told him that chances were I was not going to work because we were going to go to the hospital instead.  I told him that before we went I wanted to be there to drop the other two boys off first.  Matt was already supposed to spend the day at my mom's house so we went there first.  She and my dad were surprised to see me, but I told them that I wanted to help drop off Carter on his first day of school.  I didn't think they noticed that I was having contractions while we were talking.  We then took Carter to school. 

We got some pictures of him in his new class sitting at his new desk.  He was so excited!  I just didn't want anything to take away from that first day of school excitement and I definitely didn't want him worrying about me all day.  By the time we got to the hospital my contractions were less than 2 minutes apart.  I was so glad that I got to drop each of my other boys off though! 
     We got in to the hospital, and less than 2 hours later, with no anesthesia, our perfect little baby boy was born.  He was so beautiful with a head full of lots of dark hair.  He was perfect.  He was so cute!  As I gazed into his sweet face I was so grateful to have him and was overcome with love for him. Oh, I just LOVE that little baby boy!

Mike and I were so happy to have him finally here.  I love that Mike is such a good dad!  He loves our boys so much and you can just see on his face how happy they make him.  Proud Papa!

That's when the doctor told me there was a problem with his left foot...