Gabby's Birth Story: Part I

1:11 a.m. Wednesday, May 22nd - "Agggghhhhhh!" I woke up screaming in pain from a contraction. After several more moans and groans, I called for my husband in the bedroom. Since about week 36 I'd been spending most of my nights on the couch. He didn't hear me the first time, so I called out again, "Robbb! I'm in pain!" He responded with a loud, confused grunt, followed by "Do you want me to come out there?" No, that's OK, I just wanted to let you know it feels like the baby is digging her high heels into my uterus. Go ahead and go back to sleep. You need your rest...OF COURSE I WANT YOU TO COME OUT HERE! (paraphrased :)

Within moments, my loving husband was at my side and we were timing the contractions together. Some were seven minutes apart....others five, but they were more consistent and painful than they'd ever been. After about an hour of this, we called the doctor's office and the nurse told us to come in. I dawdled around as I wanted to make sure the contractions hadn't magically stopped because I REALLY didn't want to be sent home for a false alarm, but they kept right on coming.

Rob put our plan into action by calling my aunt Kris on her overnight shift, who would then send over one of her children to be there with a sleeping Faith while my mom and Steve made the hour trek from home. Unfortunately, her family had a reaction similar to my husband's initial one when I woke him up so she decided to come herself. I was hesitant to leave as I was sure the contractions would subside the minute we got in the car and she told me not to worry about it, that everyone needs a good false labor story. Talk about foreshadowing!

We arrived at the hospital within 25 minutes and got right into a room. They contractions weren't going away. After a few routine questions, it was time for "the check" also known as the "moment of truth." After what seemed like 13 minutes, the doctor broke the news. One centimeter dilated.

One. freaking. centimeter. That's what I had been the previous Friday at my appointment. Doc McDisappointing gave us the option of either going home to see if the contractions got stronger and closer together or going for an hour and a half walk to see if that would help me progress. Not wanting to turn around and go right back home after inconveniencing our family members, we opted for the walk. I served as the guide on the world's most boring tour of the hospital/university where I work. Rob did his best to act interested as we walked and I stopped multiple times to have a contraction or use the restroom. After we'd walked by the same landmarks enough times that we were sounding like rehearsed museum docents, we decided enough was enough, it was time to get checked again.

Well, it wasn't 1.5 and it wasn't 2, it was still 1. O-N-E. I would've cried if I wasn't so tired from the contractions and walking over the past 5 hours. That and I really did think they were strong enough and close enough to warrant the trip. The doctor told us labor could be anywhere from 24 hours away to a week. "You mean I could be having contractions this bad and this often for a week!?" I asked. No, she said, they'd either "peter out" (never understood that expression) or they'd ramp up within 12 hours. I think baby Lindquist heard this and was like, "ohhh, that's how I'm supposed to do it" because within the hour my contractions were completely gone.

The false alarm lit a fire under us to get some last minute work done, clean the house and go grocery shopping. I had a few contractions throughout the rest of the day, but no two in a row. I figured a week was going to be more accurate than 24 hours even though several friends who'd had false alarms had their babies soon after being sent home.

In typical Nicole fashion, I fell  asleep on the couch at 9 p.m. only to awake at about 10:45 to the closing moments of an NBA basketball game. I brushed my teeth, washed me face and fell into bed hoping to get a few hours sleep before I had to go back out to the couch. I was in some weird daydream like state about a half hour later when I felt it. A potential "leak." I told Rob my water might be leaking. We both sat up. This was no leak. My water breaking would be the definition they show in the movies. Rob was throwing me towels from the bathroom like men coming out of a clown car. He rushed around the house throwing on clothes and calling our family members...again. Thankfully, they were more awake this time.

Once I was able to move, I walked into Faith's bedroom to tell her goodbye. I kissed her on the forehead and whispered, "You're going to be a big sister." And with that, we were on our way to the hospital...again. This time we weren't coming home without a baby. This time we weren't coming home without Gabby.

To be continued...

The day the earth stood still... again.

Wow, barely the title and the seasonal allergies are already flaring up. Whew. I at least made it to the first sentence with The day the earth stood still.

Hello Gabby. This is my formal introduction of you to the rest of the world. I want your mom (I call her Nic) to have the chance to tell the birth story of how you were brought into the world (there are some funny parts, obviously). But I wanted to let you know just how much we already know about you.

It's funny, because with your big sister, your mom and I were deer in headlights. We didn't know what to do, what was coming next, or even what...

Quick pause. I just got to pick you up again: Mom needed a nap! I know you can't tell, but I'm now typing one-handed.

... or even what we didn't know! And with you, we get to really enjoy you. We get to stare at you. Mom held you for an hour-and-a-half before I got to... but I'm okay with that!

We loved our experience with Faith, and we are still in the hospital, and we love it with you for different reasons.

First, let me just tell you that your mom and I had a little debate with your name. But when I was calling people to let them know of your arrival, I had to stop on each one just so I didn't cry over the phone (that doesn't mean I didn't cry every time tried saying it). I think Gabrielle Grace is a beautiful name for a beautiful girl. Just ask any of your grandparents, I was a mess.

You also have had many visitors. And you are very generous to all of them. You haven't fussed, you're generally very content. And you're rocking all of your standardized tests (as a teacher, I'll let you know more about this stuff later).

We are so blessed to have you, your sister, and our little family (and just wait til you get home and meet your "brother" Howie; Faith will show you all of his tricks).


Proof of what you're stuck with
PS - if someday you're reading this on your own (crap, tears again), you know by now that I'm a huge geek. You'd better get used to it. People will know you, and feel like they've always known you, because you are a special person, and your mom and dad are writers by trade.

Why We Haven't Been Blogging

We/I haven't been blogging for a lot of reasons. If I could sum up why in two words I'd say: very, very pregnant. It's obviously more than two words but two of them are the same so I win. (Just realized why Faith has started saying "I win" all the time -- whoops.) Anyway, here's what we HAVE been doing:


We've been in the house for a month and all the boxes are officially unpacked (and we no longer have to drink Diet Coke out of wine glasses like we did on the first day)...if you don't count the basement. Our fence is done, much to Howie's delight, and we are working with contractors to frame the basement. Now that my mom painted three of the rooms upstairs, I'll be ready to post some pics soon.

On my second day of driving home from work on my new route, I got pulled over. (To add to it, he pulled me over right by a park and when I told Faith we couldn't stop at the playground, she cried all the way home.) Here's how the convo with the "officer" went: Cop: "Ma'am, I had you going 46 in a 30." Me: "Oh, I thought it was 35." Sadly, that was the best response I could muster, which still had me going more than 10 mph over. How pathetic. All I could think was that I probably deserved a ticket. $107 worth of traffic school and four hours of my life later, I've slowed down significantly and since learned that the class instructor's favorite color cars to pull over are charcoal gray and blue --both of which Rob and I drive. Lovely.

I didn't think my face was that swollen until I saw this...
 I cannot recommend prenatal yoga to mamas-to-be enough. I hate regular yoga -- I'm not the least bit flexible and don't feel like I work up a sweat necessary to call it exercise. However, I signed up for classes at the Lotus House of Yoga in Omaha to have something to replace running and it was FABULOUS! Suzanne, the instructor, was exactly what baby #2 and I needed on Saturday mornings. It gave me time to focus on lil sis and getting my mind and body in the right mindset. Shout out to my dad for Faith-watching on those mornings while Rob went for his training runs.

I got mine chopped off not because it's easier to take care of --it actually takes me longer because I have to blowdry and straighten it --but because I think I look better with short hair. What can I say, I like "mom hair" and I'm proud of it!


Howie also got a trim, which just leaves Rob and Faith to go before baby comes. We all gotta look our best, which means I'm nagging Rob to shave his face daily :) He didn't exactly heed my advice one morning and now this is the mug that greets me when my husband calls.

OK, half marathoning, but damn if I ain't proud of the Mr. for finishing the Lincoln in just over 2 hours. I told him he should try to beat my time in the same race in '09 of 2:10. He smashed it. Can't wait til we can hit the road together again and find a destination race to run. Calling all babysitters!

Rob's sign for the runners of the Council Bluffs half marathon...nothing like a little sarcasm from a volunteer to keep you motivated! 
I've had the privilege of being pregnant with not one, but two of my bestest friends in the whole world this time around. It's been great to swap stories and commiserate with each other when no one else in the world understands just how freaking hard it is to bend over. Or that you really do need to eat a granola bar at 4 a.m. Or that meat is just disgusting. Thanks, Cari and Summer. It's been fun to shower you guys and your firstborns with love and presents this past month. The belly pics will be so fun to look back on years from now.

My new year's resolution was to read 13 books this year. I'm off to a good start having finished the following:
Gone Girl
The Light Between Oceans
The Next Best Thing
Where We Belong
Silver Linings Playbook
Defending Jacob

I've downloaded a few new ones on the Kindle (Room and The Art of Hearing Heartbeats) and would love to hear your recommendations for more.


Rob been both the teacher and a student for the past year and finished his spring class with another A, even though he forgot to study for his final. He'll be taking two summer classes while Grammy, Faith and I take swimming lessons. Well, just Faith, but we'll be with her in spirit as the teacher attempts to get her to put her head under.


Last but not least, and probably most importantly, we've been praying for a special little girl lately. Phoebe. Our relation is somewhat confusing as she is my stepdad's nephew's daughter, but in times of need, we are just plain family. Little Phoebe, at the young age of 4, was recently diagnosed with leukemia. The good news: it was caught early and she has great odds of beating this cancer. The bad news: her battle and chemo regimen will last the next two-plus years. This innocent kid is going to lose all her hair and is already experiencing awful side effects from the medicine that is supposed to be making her better. We pray for her, her parents Steve and Kelly, and her siblings, Cason and Meredith, nightly. I hope you will too. If you'd like to follow along on Phoebe's journey, the Facebook page is "Phoebe Carmody Medical Page"

So that's what we've been up to... and I just realized I went a whole blog post without a picture of Faith. Let's remedy that. And then I can call it good!

Playing with mom's jewelry!