Intervention

They say that the first step to recovery from an addiction is to admit that there's a problem. So it's about time I come clean, I suppose. *sigh* For the last several weeks I, Amanda Jennings, have been drinking...

instant coffee.

I know, I know. It's shameful. My mother-in-law is a coffee connoisseur, and I've been trying to hide my problem from her. My husband makes fun of me, and yet I return. Like a moth to an instant and barely satisfying flame. I have an awesome Cuisinart coffee pot and grinder sitting on the counter, but the allure of 65 seconds in the microwave is just too much for me to overcome. Clearly I need help.

It started when Charlie was born. It's not your fault, dear one. Don't blame yourself. The grinder seemed so loud when there were children sleeping. And pre-ground coffee required a measuring spoon, which was obviously too much of a burden for me to take on in the wee hours of the morning. Then I discovered Folger's instant coffee packets. Quick and clean. I tried to ignore it. Just one more time, I would tell myself. But the convenience continued to draw me back. Why must I struggle with this??

I need your help, friends. I need your encouragement and support. But most of all?

I need caffeine.

Charlie David Jennings

On September 1, 2012, we welcomed our third child into the world. Here is the story of Charlie's birth.

My due date was actually September 6, but as our other two kids were born early, we assumed that this baby would be too. I was hoping our baby would come on my dad's birthday, August 28. That week I picked up my activity level, going for long walks, going to parks, playing with the kids, racing Jack (I won, by the way), and nesting. On Friday (August 31), I went to lunch with Jeremy's mom and our kids. While I was there, Jeremy texted me this:

*yeah, yeah, I know. It's spelled "jalApeno."

He's so demanding. And he really didn't want me to go into labor at the beginning of a weekend, laboring all through the night, starting out with such little sleep (as had happened with our first two kids). Which, of course, is exactly what happened. 

5:30 pm: As I started to make supper, a wave of nausea and contractions hit me. By the time I sat down to have dinner, I was having contractions close to 3 minutes apart. I lay down and they subsided some, becoming more irregular.

8:00 pm: As we were finishing putting the kids to bed, I got an awful side cramp. After it lasted close to an hour, I called my midwife to ask what we should do. Because the side cramp seemed unusual, we decided to head to the hospital to get checked to make sure everything was ok.

9:15 pm: We got to the hospital and they started admitting us right away. I told the nurse, "I'm not even sure I'm in labor; maybe I should just get checked first?" You'd think that by round number three I would know if I was actually in labor or not.The midwife came and checked me and found that I was 6 cm dilated. Guess I was in labor! 

2:00 am: I had dilated to 7 cm, but progress seemed to be slowing, so I agreed to have my water broken. By the way, my water breaking has always been the defining moment when labor becomes WAY more intense, as I've never had an epidural. Laboring before that moment is like going for a jog on a nice fall afternoon. After that moment? It's like running a marathon. Up an endless flight of stairs that are covered in ice, even though it's 120 degrees out. Dragging a bag filled with bricks. Dodging bullets. You know...intense. 

2:30 am: While bouncing on a birthing ball, I got the worst case of the giggles. There I bounced, laughing hysterically, through contractions, to the point of nearly crying. My midwife came in and I told her I was pretty sure I had completely lost my mind. I'm surprised they let me take the baby home. 

3:15 am: I am no longer laughing. I put headphones in and turned on Blindside's "With Shivering Hearts We Wait" album. Perfect album to labor to for the next four hours. 

6:30 am-ish: Labor is stalling at 9 cm. My midwife asked if I wanted pitocin. I said I would try anything if it meant avoiding pitocin. I was becoming discouraged and thinking "I can't handle this any more!" I won't go into details here, but I will say I didn't end up having pitocin. And I will never forget the scene in that hospital room as I tried "anything."

7:00 am: I started pushing and completely stopped caring if our baby was a boy or girl. This was my first pregnancy where I did not find out the gender ahead of time. Jeremy did find out the gender at 20 weeks and kept it a secret the rest of the time. And he sure enjoyed it- watching me wash up boy and girl baby clothes, knowing which ones I would be packing back up later.

7:34 am: Finally, THE moment. 35 weeks and 1 day after I showed Jeremy a positive pregnancy test, we were meeting our third child, a son. Charlie David Jennings was born! All 9 lbs, 12.5 oz of him! I can't really describe how awesome that moment is...when everything you just went through is instantly worth it. "Thank you Jesus!!!" was really all I could say. New life is so amazing!

This...

..to this...

                      ...to THIS in a matter of hours!

The last 5.5 weeks with our newest family member have flown by. Charlie is an easygoing and laid back baby. He sleeps well at night, only getting up once the vast majority of nights. Jack and Brooklyn have adjusted far better than I ever imagined they would, and they love having a little brother. Brooklyn called Charlie her "little sister" for quite awhile (perhaps she was in denial?) but now talks about having two "brudders." When I see the three of them together with Jeremy, I feel like my heart is going to explode with joy.

I am blessed.