Show #32 Three birth stories: Footlings, Fabulous, and Funny! And a few comments from the dh….
Sunday, January 23, 2011 at 1:02PM My amazing husband joined me in the cloffice to talk about births!
I'm speaking at Parents Palooza Feb 26, and 27 201
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I'm the host of this show!
March 20th, 2011
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I hope this doesn't happen to me.....
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Now this is an organization I can get behind!
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This lovely child drifted off to sleep because of my soothing voice. NOT because my show is boring!!
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Missie’s Birth of Footling Twins: Faith and Crismas
The week before we had a fight and we made up, after that I passed some bloody tinged mucous and though, we can’t do it anymore, I'm starting to lose my plug.
Friday, 12/22 I started having symptoms of Preeclampsia, swelling in my hands and feet, high blood pressure, no protein in the urine to speak of, not even to +1, no contractions until after 9pm. I measured my belly and all the big I was 2 cm over for some time, measured 4 cm for a couple of days, but went poo and it went back to 2cm over. 2 cm being a variation of normal for 1 baby, no indications for 2 babies. I heard one heart beat, and kept moving it all over my belly and still only heard one heart beat.
Contractions all night, painful yes, but not too unbearable. I slept some and lost some more mucous plug all night. On a spiritual level I suspected twins, read twin stories and did a lot of visiting of www.breechbabies.com and www.spinningbabies.com but no outward symptoms of twins in any way. Even their placement suggested a big single baby for me, hiccups in my pelvic bone, but by my belly button (which was Crissie's head now that I think about it)
Eric had to go to work about 6am, said it was better for him to go to work and be called home than to completely miss out. I was ok with that, figuring time and all, he was only 15 minutes away from home.
About 7 am I woke up my oldest and told him to go to the neighbors to call Eric (we have cell phones but both of our were timeless treasures). Davey finally got a hold of him around 8am when he left a message. Eric called back and was told to come home, it might be the baby.
During this time I got things ready, I washed and boiled some yarn for their cords (yes I thought 2 was a good idea) and bulb syringe, readied the bowl and colander for the placenta and some scissors for the cord which was strange but instinctual, as I planned to lotus the baby.
I don't know what time he came home, by then there was no way you would get me to leave my nest I made in the bathroom: full bath tub, blanket on the floor next to the bath tub between the toilet and the tub (I have a small bathroom-it made a nice cozy nest) and the toilet. I was bouncing between the tub and toilet. When Eric got home he didn't know what to do to begin with, so I had him rub my back. There wasn't much back labor to speak of, just during contractions. Just kept reminding myself that I wanted a labor I could enjoy, lol. Something kept me from pushing, too. I wanted to but I just couldn't bring myself to actually push. So still I bounced between tub and toilet.
Eric kept checking me to see if I was pooping, go figure that I asked him to check. I didn't want to poop in the tub but I felt for sure there was some poop. I had been pooping some before he got there, I guess I got it all out. Finally I ok'd myself to push some and my water broke.
I was sitting on the toilet. I reached my hand down there and felt two little feet crossed at the ankles. I got up into the tub and Eric saw the feet and started to flip out, asked what he should do. I forgot, even still do I forget, he doesn't know as much about this stuff as I do. He surprised me. I said don't do anything and I let her dangle until she decided to pop her head out, I caught her in the tub, stood up, thinking it was over except for the placenta, was able to hand her to Eric (I think, I was still on autopilot and the details are a little fuzzy) and stand up straight. I felt my belly and wondered why it was still hard way at the top. Then just a couple of moments later, it seemed moments not minutes.
The contractions started again and I figured it was after birth, then I knew it was another baby, got out of the tub onto my blanket and told Eric to cut the first one's cord right away, I didn't want anyone to bleed out since I didn't know what kind of twins we were dealing with. He tried the yarn I boiled but it wasn't useful so he grabbed some zip ties from his tool box and cut her cord.
My second water broke, I felt more crossed feet and she fell out onto her sister and their placentas, which were fused, came next, immediately. They cried from the experience and turned the most beautiful shades of pink. We put their placentas in the colander and in the bowl and I sat on the bed with them. Then we made phone calls.
They both nursed great and started peeing and pooping right away. Breathed great, cried loud, had good strong heart beats, clear lungs, and I never did suction them. Faith was first, so it was her cord that was cut, Crissie, I am so glad came second because she did get all of her cord blood, though when I finally did decide to cut it, she cried, which made me feel so bad.
You know, when you call family that the baby came and SURPRISE there are two, they all came over bringing preemie diapers, clothes and blankets. Mom took pictures of me in the chair with them.
I took some pictures but they are still on my camera at home.....
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http://www.birthstoriesondemand.com/doula-stories/2011/1/6/jasmines-birth-of-aiyana.html
Jasmine’s Birth of Aiyana
Newly 19 and spilling out at the seams, I rolled out of the night and into the early morning. After weeks of false labor and trying everything from walking to spicy foods, I was 9 days overdue and my body ached with anticipation. My olive skin was stretched taut over hiccupping life and churning limbs. I waddled my way to the toilet, wishing my grandmother a good morning on the way. I was calm and unassuming. My movements were steady and intentional rather than the usual clumsy, pregnant stance I had grown accustomed to. There was something different with the way I carried myself that morning. Maybe it was nerves (I had an induction scheduled the next morning) or relief from knowing, subconsciously, I was already in the beginning of natural labor. I do believe knowing the time was near, my body relaxed and released the right stuff.....
For weeks before this day I had been anxious and frustrated with my larger-than-life belly and everything in between, but this day was different. I relieved my what-seemed-to-be-full bladder and ran the bathtub faucet; dipping my legs into the pooling water. My grandmother had home-made a labor-inducing concoction of essential oils and I poured it into the swirling water around my full-moon belly. Glistening stripes of collagen gleamed at my hips and thighs. My breasts impatiently awaited a suckling mouth. My mind wandered to the appointment I had scheduled the next morning. The doctor had suggested I be induced since the baby was overdue and I was uncomfortable. I knew I didn't want labor induced, but I complied. I leaned back in the tub as the warm-up began. I knew all along she'd come in her own time, but I let the doctors say what they wanted. I had nearly lost faith in my body's timing...all too early.....
The contractions came slow and soft; like a long-awaited whisper; barely noticeable and creating rising confidence within. ....
It's strange to think back on my mind state while enjoying that last ritual bath. I remember going into the process feeling very aloof and naively prepared. I refused all labor and birth classes, I did research and study the process throughout my pregnancy and I can truly say I never feared the process. ....
Eleanor Roosevelt once said, “You have to accept whatever comes and the only important thing is that you meet it with courage and with the best that you have to give.”....
I breathed in the soothing thoughts that surrounded my mind and exhaled nothing but trust in my body. The natural rhythm took over as I rocked my hips into the smooth porcelain. Knowing my child was on her way was utterly orgasmic. My body opened up, vibrating with the universal energy. Taking time to relax and ready myself for the long day ahead, I watched the clear ripples radiate from my first-time pregnant belly. It was the last time I would be in that bathtub with a baby in utero. I sighed and climbed out of the tub and dressed myself. I told my grandma I thought I was in labor and she perked up and began to prepare for the day. She saw me leaning over the sofa during a contraction and said, “Yep, that's labor!”....
My mother arrived to take us to the clinic where they referred us to the hospital right away. The car ride was obnoxious. The pain intensified in the car as we approached the hospital. I now know it was most likely my body reacting to the observant and public environment. My cell phone rang and I answered. It was the baby’s father. He was calling to see how I was doing. Hearing his voice made me feel uneasy; why had I not wanted to call him with the news? He made me feel hesitant in a time I needed confidence. I told him where we were going and he said he was on his way. Finally, we arrived at ....Lutheran.. ..Medical.. ..Center...., my daughter's birthplace.....
Dressed in the dull, blue hospital gown, I laid on the bed clenching through contractions; the baby’s father (James), my mother, my grandmother & my mother's youngest sister observing me with wide eyes. ....James.... picked up on my discomfort because he took the nurse aside and told her I wanted less people in the room. I was thankful for his help with this. The nurse asked me what I wanted and after many months of telling them they could experience the birth along with me, I finally realized I needed to be alone. I needed to give birth alone.
The nurse sent my family into the waiting room so I could focus on myself and the tiny person inside of me.
Once the room was clear of frantic and anxious energy, I let Mother Nature do her work. She twisted at the soles of my feet, climbing higher, growing into my ankles and knees, bringing blossoming vines of tranquility. The contractions grew stronger, more frequent. The nurse said a Doula happened to be on duty that day; I had her bring her in. Having no childbirth classes during my pregnancy, I was thankful to see a beautiful, expecting Doula at my side. Looking back on this day, I realize I was never completely collected. I was off in my own worldtime, reality, emotion, any thoughts I had previously conceived of what labor should or would be like, was lost in a blur of raw, primal instinct. It came at me and I took it in all at once, yet one step at a time; moving forward, progressing toward a new life. I think I may have been in a trance the entire time I was laboring and it was a wonderfully innate mind state.....
I made my way to the Jacuzzi tub. Slipping into the familiar warmth of the water, I remembered I had taken at least two baths a day while pregnant. I was in familiar territory; I am a creature of the water. I felt at peace as the pressure of the jets massaged my back and hips. I breathed slow and deep and slid through the water like a round-bellied mermaid. Back and forth, front to back. The pain was welcome, because I knew it meant progress. The nurse came in and said ....James' sister tried to “break into the room”. I laughed and shook my head. By this time, I had been in labor for a few solid hours. After a contraction subsided, I opened my eyes to see not one, but two Doulas observing me. One had tears in her eyes and the other a look of pure excitement. The pregnant Doula wiped the tears from her face and told me how beautiful this scene was and she was happy she was a part of it. She told me her shift was over and that the new Doula was here to stay for awhile. I laughed. Throughout my labor, I laughed. I'm not sure what brought it on, but it felt good to laugh between contractions. I knew what I was doing without ever going to a childbirth class; I knew it would be all right; I knew my body could be trusted to deliver my baby safely into the world.....
I stayed in the water for awhile until the contractions picked up suddenly. It rocked me at the core. I wondered what the tiny being in my womb was experiencing. We were in this together and the comfort swelled inside of me; my chest warm and pulsating with love for my unborn child. My long, deep breaths became suddenly shallow and sharp. The pain was contracting in on me, wrenching my body and shaking my bones. I felt sick. The Doula handed me a bed pan and I filled it with stomach acid and melted ice chips. I quickly remembered I had not eaten for 10+ hours as I wretched again. Another contraction came swiftly and heavily. I closed my eyes, panting as my heart raced beneath my sports bra. The first Doula left and the new one took my hand and helped me from the tub and into my hospital gown. She then introduced me to the birth ball. My legs felt too weak to play on it for long. I rolled it between my thighs, opening my hips so her head could lower into place. Finding no relief from the ball, I found the birthing bar and gripped it, my knuckles turning white as another contraction bore down on me. The bar was frustrating me so I paced the floor, letting the laboring energy flow through me. The nurse asked me if I would like something to take the edge off the pain, I laughed and shook my head. For some reason I never took the offer seriously. Medication was never an option in my mind, not because I felt I had some feminist-macho-ism to prove, but because I knew it wasn’t right for myself or my little one. I went to use the toilet and found I had lost my mucous plug. This reassured me this was the real thing, not another false alarm. I returned to the bed to receive my next dose of antibiotics (which I now know is not good for mother or baby) for my Strep B, enduring contraction after contraction. I wanted to let myself flow in and out of the pain, but I had nearly lost control several times as the rushes surged wildly through me. ....
The progress seemed incredibly slow as the nurse checked my cervix and reported the dilation. At this point, I was beginning to tire. After all this time and pain, it still wasn't time to push. I needed outside nourishment and the hospital staff refused to let me eat or drink. I began to question whether or not I could do this without easing the pain somehow. The Doula reassured me I was approaching transition and this is why I was feeling so freaked. I pulled my mind out of my body, still tolerating the pain as best I could. I planted my feet into the cold linoleum of the hospital floor and let the roots grow from my toes; moaning and panting, trying desperately to find some relief from the constant sickening pain. It was like nothing I had ever felt before. It was excruciating and arduous like a raging sea welling and filling a cave and it did all of this inside of me, inside my tiny female frame. I leaned and swayed into the Doula. I wrapped my arms around her neck and she danced with me, letting me envelope her with my pregnant body. The power and strength I had swirling within me began to expand as she supported my mind and body. She reminded me of the power and strength I have as a woman; the power and strength to bring a new life from the watery darkness of creation into the sparkling light of consciousness. Once again, my mind left as my body did her work. I had composed and nourished life inside my swelling belly and it was time to let this tiny person take her first breath. I climbed back onto the bed, frustrated, yet refusing to let exhaustion set in. This was my time; this was our time. I faced the back of the bed, gripping onto the thin mattress. I screamed again and it quaked in my throat, filling the room and possibly the entire labor and delivery unit. James returned to the door several times to check on my progress and to see how I was doing. Any thought of him while I was in labor made me feel cautious and uneasy. I wanted him to witness the birth of his daughter, but for my own well-being I needed to focus without his influence. As the next contraction radiated deep in my abdomen and found my extremities I cried out again. ....
James was at the door talking with the nurse and asking if he could see me. I screamed through the pain and turned him away. One look at the Doula and I quickly turned my shriek into a deep moan; I steadied myself; deep breath in, deep breath out. His presence was making me feel defensive and vulnerable. The contractions were taking over like internal earthquakes. One after another, barely 30 seconds apart. It was so hard to handle, and for the first time all day, the thought of pain-relief entered my mind. A scream escaped my lungs; the Doula corrected me immediately. She told me to channel that energy into breathing, into focusing on the progress I was making. I shuddered, shaking and almost in a panic as the pain was too difficult to control, too hard to endure. My state of mind was one of chaos and panic. It was getting harder and harder to stay strong and stable. I was trembling, I was dizzy and I was falling fast. The nurse grabbed an oxygen mask and held it to my face. I panted into it, inhaling the sweet scent and imagining it nourishing my baby girl. Transition had been wringing my body for hours. I had entered the stage where my body was no longer just dilating, but had suddenly shifted to power my uterus down toward my pelvic floor. I felt the pressure of the baby's head so low in my pelvis I thought I was squishing her head with every movement I made so I got on my knees and made circles with my hips. My cervix was stuck at 9 centimeters for what seemed like eternity. I just wanted her out. I was mentally done with this. My physical self was flooded with exhaustion. I swayed. I had reached the point of wanting to give up. Every natural birth reaches this point before or around 8 to 10 centimeters during the time of transition between dilation and actual delivery of the baby. During the first several hours of labor I couldn't imagine the pain getting any worse than it already was; oh, how I was wrong. The pain of early labor seemed like nothing compared to this. ....
Transition was by far the hardest time of my life. I wanted to rest, but the contractions were on top of each other with no break in between. I would love to say every muscle, artery, every cell in my body hummed in unison throughout my laboring, but all I could really feel was crushing, painful rushes. I cannot even begin to find words to describe the place I was in as my mind became hazy and my body surrendered to the universe. I felt crippled as another debilitating contraction swept over me. I yelled out, clutching the bed again. Nauseous and weak, I was forgetting to breath. A minute later, it passed. The Doula fed me a spoonful of orange gelatin. I swished it on my sticky tongue and swallowed. It came back up immediately. I cried from weakness. I was trembling; tears welling in my eyes. Only 10-30 seconds of down time before another surge. The nurse hurried to check my cervix again and I was finally at a 9.5. I cringed, my toes curling as another contraction enveloped me entirely. Gasping into the mask, I brushed it aside and moved to the end of the bed. I was stuck at a 9.5 for too long. I was upset that the lip of my cervix was still lingering. The only word to describe how I was feeling at this point is total panic. I wanted to push even though I wasn't having the urge every woman talks about. I need to push! I wanted so badly to push, to be done with it, but I had to hold back for fear of swelling my cervix and delaying the birth even longer. ....
I looked into the Doula's eyes and pleaded for some sort of relief. Her gentle gaze always reassured me that the world was not coming to an end, but merely just beginning. She massaged my hips, compressing my waist with her palms. I can't do this. Oh, help me. Please, help me. I had been in hard labor all day and the sun was setting quickly outside the hospital window. My eyes watered. I took a quick moment to retreat inside myself. You can do this, you have no choice. Hurry the process, just get her out and it will all be over. Just get her out, just get her out. The nurse checked me several more times between contractions before I finally hit 10 centimeters and could begin pushing. ....
The descent of the baby was sluggish. I pushed and pushed with what seemed like no advancement. The Doula said her head was stuck beneath my pubic bone. She'd lower for a moment and withdraw into her cozy home; Lower and withdraw, lower with every push and withdraw as soon as I took a breath. (I now know this is completely normal, especially with first births. The baby’s head gradually descends to increase blood flow in the birth canal and ascends to allow the tissues to stretch slowly and without tear.) This went on for quite some time. The Doula told me to rock her head beneath my pubic bone and bear down. I did as instructed. I felt fluid gush between my legs. I was relieved thinking it was my bag of waters until the nurse told me it was not the sac; it was urine from the baby pressing on my bladder. I was discouraged my water hadn't broken yet. I wondered how much longer I would be in labor if my water refused to break. ....
The nurse told me my cervix was open and the sac was bulging, but stubborn. I wanted to be done with this. I wanted her out and in my arms. I was so worn out I didn't care if the nurse had to get involved. She got the doctor and said the baby would be delivered within the hour. I sighed deeply as yet another contraction took over. I was at a halt. I tensed up and held my breath waiting for the end to come. During the first 30 seconds the contraction got stronger and more powerful. It welled inside me, filling me with hormones. At the peak of the pain I lost my mind. It was surreal. The adrenaline, the endorphins, oxytocin, and prolactin all played their important role in preparing me for motherhood. The last 30 seconds and the pain slowly began to whirl away. ....
After the contraction subsided the doctor asked if she could break my water. I wailed, yes! Yes, yes, please break my water. She grabbed what looked like a crotchet needle and water drenched my thighs. She said the water was green from meconium and it was good we broke the water when we did. My baby had passed her first bowel movement in utero. Ah, a sigh of relief escaped my lips as her head lowered and another contraction took hold. My lungs seized up. I couldn't breathe in as she made the decent into the birth canal. The pressure was different now that the cervix slipped up and over her head. (After you reach 10 centimeters and the cervix "pops" over the baby's head- there will be a "resting period" while the "slack" of the uterus contracts against the baby's bottom. I didn't know this at the time, so without allowing my uterus to catch up with the kiddo, I didn't feel the urge to push- yet I pushed anyway.) ....
The labor picked up rather quickly after my water broke. I pushed with all I had in me. Every drop of strength poured into pushing, into delivering this baby. The oxygen mask was perched on the mattress at my face and I whimpered into it. The baby still wouldn't make her appearance, though I pushed for over an hour. I turned onto my back with my legs in the air. I had ended up in the very position I told myself to stay away from (On your back with your legs in stirrups is one of the most difficult positions to give birth in. It works against gravity and against the natural structure of a woman’s pelvis.) I may have been fighting gravity, but I felt more secure in this position since it was the most common position I had seen women give birth in. ....
The Doula, doctor and nurses gathered at the foot of the bed. The doctor recommended she put her fingers in and tear me (it was fucking barbaric). I focused on where her fingers met my flesh and pushed with everything I had. After a few more powerful pushes her head began to crown. The Doula spoke to me in low tones. She told me her ears and cheeks were out. She asked if I wanted to watch in the mirror and I said no. I was still polite and reserved though I was in the midst of birthing. I laughed, I cried. It burned and twisted between my thighs. One, two, three more pushes her head and shoulders emerged. Her body slid out into the doctors arms at ..7:47 PM.. and was set on my abdomen.....
I shook as I held her, the chills taking over me as my child looked deep into my eyes. Dark, black slits peered up at the mother who carried her for 10 months and brought her safe and sound into this new world. I wept and laughed all at once. Oh my God, oh my God. I was holding onto my newborn child for the first time. Relief flooded my limbs. Any feeling that was wrenching my body merely minutes before vanished entirely. The doctor asked if I wanted to cut the cord. And I did. I cut her umbilical cord, separating the tiny being from my insides. She no longer needed my womb for nourishment. ....
My baby moon began on ..September 26, 2007.., the night of the harvest moon. The doctor began to stitch me up right after I delivered the placenta and the family came in with my legs still in the air. It all happened so quickly. Gallons of crimson fluid painted the picture of perfection. I was grateful for the wonderful encouragement of my Doula. My baby girl and I had worked together as a team; after more than 12 hours of all natural labor, she was here, she was finally here.....
After the family entered the room to see her, she was weighed and rinsed. She weighed at 8lbs 7oz and was 20.5 inches long. After everyone greeted her and held her, she took to the breast right away. She was the most beautiful, sweet-natured baby I had ever seen. Sleeping soundly in my arms and suckling at my no longer impatient breasts, was my first born daughter, Aiyana Autumn.
“The purpose of life, after all, is to live it, to taste experience to the utmost, to reach out eagerly and without fear for newer and richer experiences.” -Eleanor Roosevelt....
“You gain strength, courage, and confidence by every experience by which you really stop to look fear in the face. You are able to say to yourself, 'I lived through this. I can take the next thing that comes along.” -Eleanor Roosevelt
a purring heart protruding beneath my navel sucking at my womb & glowing flesh no longer a selfish being feeding tiny limbs before myself nutrients flows to create life gulping at milky breasts...
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http://www.birthstoriesondemand.com/bladder-fail-funny/2010/11/14/mickis-birth-of-emily.html
Micki's Birth of Emily
I'm writing this story from a long ago memory. Emily's birth is intertwined with Thanksgiving and goats. I think this is where my extreme dislike for goats really began.
I was due Nov 30, 1998. My first baby was born at 33 weeks along, so I really had no idea what to expect to be that pregnant. It was Nov 25, the day before Thanksgiving. We had plans to go to my In-Law's across town for the big day. But before that, I had a lot to do.
I took my time getting ready and getting my 20 month old ready. It took my breath away to do much of anything. I sat down on the couch and felt a pop and wet down my legs. No contractions at all, but I knew my water broke.
I called my husband and told him to meet me at the dr's office. He was attending the university and wanted to be sure this time as he couldn't miss too many classes. I called to a neighbor to watch my son for me. The neighbor asked how I was getting to the hospital. I fully intended to drive myself, thank you very much! He nixed that idea, handed me a towel and told me to get in the car.
My husband was at the dr's office (attached to the hospital) waiting for me. The dr wanted to make sure my water broke. We went to the exam room and the nurse did the test with the blue paper. It was NEGATIVE. I thought there was no way I peed myself. I was certain my water broke. The nurse felt bad and said she'd check under the microscope.
We were left alone to wait for the test results. I felt the baby move and WOOSH, I was sitting in a huge puddle of water.
The nurse returned with the bad news that my water had not broken!
I laughed and said "I'm sitting in a puddle!"
The nurse smiled and said she was pretty sure that was going to be positive. It was!
She put me in a wheel chair and I was wheeled over to the hospital. The dr examined me there and I was already 3 cm and 50 percent.
I remembered how much it hurt the first time and I asked for an epidural. The anesthesiologist arrived and began her work. She did something wrong and it sent shooting pain down my leg. I told her to stop. She told me that I must not want it badly enough. I guess not.
This was just after 1 p.m. I still wasn't feeling many contractions. The machine wasn't showing a whole lot of contractions. Husband and I played cribbage, we watched a James Bond movie.
It was just before 4 p.m. when the pain started. It was the pain I remembered from my first baby. I buzzed the nurse and said I was ready for my epidural. A different anesthesiologist arrived and instructed me to sit up. He started work and just as he started the wire into my spine, I screamed "I feel the head!"
Everyone told me not to move and not to push. That's not easy to do!
As soon as they finished the epidural, dr arrived and I began to push. so much for the epidural. It was never turned on.
I pushed for about 20 minutes and Emily was born, weighing 7 lbs 3 oz. From the time I arrived at the hospital til she was born was about 3.5 hours!
Now, you're probably wondering where the goats come in...
Our little family was all snuggled up at the hospital together less than a day after Emily was born. The phone rang and it was my Mother-in-law. I had plans to leave the hospital that day and go to her house to enjoy a lovely Thanksgiving dinner. Plans changed with that phone call. Thanksgiving was canceled.
Canceled, not because of a burnt turkey or anything a normal family might experience, but because my sister-in-law's large dog had gotten loose, jumped in to the goat's pen and eaten them. The yard was covered with goat parts. My husband was needed to help clean up the goat remains and find some way to deal with the dog. The dog needed to be put down and there was no place open on the holiday. Everyone was so upset.
There were no congratulations on the baby. There was no fabulous Thanksgiving dinner. The meal in the hospital was terrible. I was alone all day.
Emily loves her birth story. Her siblings (three sisters and two brothers) think her story is great. They roll with laughter at the image of Grandma canceling Thanksgiving and daddy having to bury goats. The rest of the family has blocked this memory far far away in their minds. They remember the new baby, so it all worked out for the best.
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