Alright. From the beginning...
Should we have another?
After having our 3rd kid, Tristan, Brian and I were not exactly agreed on whether or not to have another. Brian was totally ready to be done, feeling like 3 was more than plenty for him, and it made him stressed out thinking about another. For me, I've felt since before we were married that 3 wasn't quite enough for me. (I did warn him I wanted 4 or 5.) There's something about 4 or 5 that made me feel like some sort of power woman, just over the edge of sanity, with a legitimate collection of children. Yeah, I'm sure those sound like some bizarre reasons, but there are other ones... like: I feel that more children means more abundance and experience in life and I want to be surrounded by loved ones when I get older.
Now, don't get me wrong, I do know that having children is a LOT OF WORK!! That's why I only wanted to go barely over the edge of sanity, not too much farther. (And FYI: now that I've had said 4th child for 2 months now, I'm realizing more and more that this IS good and over the edge for me so I am happy at calling it finito.)
Okay- so here's the funny thing. Once I was able to get Brian's consent on the matter (to try for #4), that's when I all of a sudden took a step back to rethink if I REALLY wanted this. I then started thinking seriously about what that meant for traveling, house and car arrangements, extended time with children at home or until all children are in school at least etc. with an extra kid. After I had done some him-hawing on my own (Brian leaving the decision now in my hands), I had the experience I was hoping for. I was simply working in the kitchen one morning and an overwhelming happiness washed over me as I thought about having another baby. No more questioning and uncertainty. In fact, I was so happy that I had to laugh out loud because I was literally giddy! This was my answer.
Let's do this.
Well, it took us a whole year to get pregnant. Enough time to second guess, and by the end, Brian had said (and I agreed) that we didn't want to try for much longer and have the kids far apart. We set up an appointment for an IUD. Between then and the actual appointment is when I found out I was pregnant. Wow. I was so grateful. Mostly grateful I didn't have to move forward in confusion and feel regret or resentment later on, or have a child way after the rest. It must have been June that we started this 9-month journey. They gave me the due date of March 20.
Pregnancy.
I am a pretty easy going pregnant lady. Nothing is ever that bad. Mild nausea and throwing up in the first trimester. After that, the worst complaint is how I can't tie my shoes, I have to reach over far to work on the dishes or at the stove and I get wet or hot from it. This pregnancy began much the same, but by the 3rd trimester I was DONE. I'd never gotten quite this impatient before. I really grumbled about how sleeping was not restful and it was difficult getting in and out of the bed or even turning over. A month or so before my due date is when I began having contractions irregularly. They weren't painful or anything but I knew what they were from the tightening/hardening of my stomach in short intervals. For the most part I blew them off as braxton hicks (which I'm sure is what they were), but the longer they went on, the more impatient and perplexed it made me. I was sure I was going to go early. As Stake Music Chairman, I'd been putting together a Stake Easter Music event for March 19th and I kept telling everyone how I was positive I wouldn't be making it to the actual event. Nothing ever amounted and I was there to sing with the choir after all. It was nice to be there to oversee things and enjoy the fruits of my labors... but would have been nicer to be enjoying the fruits of my other labors. :)
False alarm.
That night, on March 19, (a Saturday evening), I began what I believed strongly was early labor. Contractions beginning to be regular, gradually increasing in length and time between each one over the course of a few hours, and not letting up when I laid down. We began making preparations, asked the Millers to be 'on call' over night in case we needed help watching the kids. We were pretty close to heading in to the hospital around 10 or 11 pm but decided to wait just a little longer until the contractions were less than 5 minutes apart. (By this point they were around 6 to 10 minutes apart). All of a sudden around midnight the contractions just quit completely. WHAT?! It was a no-go.
Well, at least at my last appointment I had agreed with my nurse-midwife, Nicolle, that we could induce labor on the 21st (Monday) by breaking my water if I hadn't already delivered. I was sure that with all the recent signs, that this would surely put me straight into natural labor.
Labor & Delivery.
Monday morning, March 21. The scheduled nature of this was quite nice. Brian had requested off work already, he took Avery to school and Aspen/Tristan to the Jagielski's for the day (arrangements were also made for after school) while I went in to the hospital at 8:00 am to get set up. Here's me at the last moment of pregnancy:

My nurse-midwife showed up and about 9:00 am is when she broke my water. (I was probably dilated to a 2 at the beginning). It was slow going at the beginning. I didn't spontaneously go into real labor. There were some contractions but not consistent enough or strong enough. I practically sprinted back and forth down the halls and did serious jumping, squatting, you name-it, in my room. Thank you, Brian, for power-walking with me back and forth down that all-too-short hallway. After a few hours, Nicolle (Gonzalez) told me to try the breast pump to stimulate harder contractions and speed things up so we wouldn't have to go on pitocin. I was amazed at how well it worked. With a few rounds of that, I was making some real progress. By a certain point, probably 4:00 pm, I stayed in bed through the contractions (nothing else really helped anyway). They were strong enough to really control my breathing, moan deeply, ramble-talk through them, and I started snapping out a 4-beat rhythm as I controlled my breathing. It was definitely growing in intensity. At a certain point, I knew I needed to make a decision about an epidural since I had thus far been undecided. I had had a good experience with Aspen's natural delivery that I thought I might just do it again, but I wasn't sure. I kept going back and forth on the matter. When Brian said "You got this," I decided I wanted to be power woman again and show the world how tough I was again. No epidural for me. Let's do this. That was a mistake. While there is satisfaction in conquering such a feat all naturally, I don't think it was necessary to do it twice, especially since this second time was not quite as pleasant as the first. Looking back, I wonder why I even needed to go natural ever. Just take the drugs!! Alas, I wanted to know what it was like and that I could do it (and not just once but twice I guess). I distinctly remember being overcome with that feeling you get at the strongest moment and I uttered "I don't like this" as a memoir to what I said when I experienced it the first time... except it kept going this time and got just a little more unbearable this time. You almost go into a panic, feeling like you can't do this, it is too much, and you are a bit scared and a bit frantic like "what am I going to do about this???" I have to get this to be over. I knew it was past the point of the epidural, or at least it was so close to the end that it'd be stupid to request it now regardless of how I felt. I started saying things like, "why???" (referring to- Why didn't I just get the stupid epidural?!) and I needed to go poop (please excuse my explicitness). I kept saying that over and over because there's nothing you can do but ramble. I suppose that was partly the feeling of needing to push (the pooping thing), though I'm still not satisfied with it. I wanted an overwhelming feeling of needing to push (like they say you get), the kind of feeling that's actually a relief to feel after having the contractions, but pushing was not a relief feeling. I only did it because I was frantic to be done. I pushed so d*mn hard (please excuse me... if anything in life merits a curse word, this would have to be it) that I knew I could only do that for a few times and I would be totally wasted. Good thing that's all it took. I only pushed 4 or 5 times, about 15 minutes total. There was a burn near the end. My throat was sore afterwards for practically busting a vocal chord on one of those angry grunt-yell things. Hardly a tear though (not even meriting a stitch up). At 6:04 pm, baby boy was born after a 9-hour labor. 8 lbs 7.5 oz. 21" long, 13.5" head circumference. We named him Truitt John Olsen. For most of the pregnancy we were undecided on a name. Later into it, the name Truitt popped into my head while in the kitchen (it happened to be the name of a recent son of Brian's friend at work and that's how I'd heard it, come to find out much later). Then running it by Brian, he seemed agreeable to it, but wouldn't consent just yet. I really liked it. William was the other one I really liked but Brian nixed that over the impending nick-names, even though he liked William too. Besides, it would be fun to have 2 B's (mom & dad), 2 A's (girls), and 2 T's (boys). The BAT family. Haha. John is named after Brian's grandpa, whom we love.
Afterwards.
I was starving!! Of course. After a meal at the hospital and Brian brought me an horchata from Rigabertos with his dinner, he picked up the kids to come see the baby. They went home that night and I actually rested for a 4-hour chunk of time thanks to my lenient nurse who didn't want to bother me. In the morning, I wanted to be discharged. Who likes to sit around bored and the bother of rolling my baby around in a rolly-thing, when I could be in the comforts of my home? We had to wait until at least 6 pm to get some tests done and we left around 9 pm. Brian let the kids stay up and he brought them in the car with him to get me (except they didn't come inside because Tristan threw up in the car randomly, probably from staying up too late). The kids LOVE Truitt!!
(Monday night)
2 days old
1 week old
1 month old
(switched to the elephant from grandma. we liked it much better)
Blessing Day:
April 24. Brian's parents and my mom were in town. Brian had a stake council assignment in Penasco that morning during our own services so instead of blessing Truitt in church, we did it about 3pm in the afternoon in our home. Thanks to bishop Miller for coming to our home.
Helpers:
I asked for my mom and Brian's mom to come for 2 weeks each. It was very helpful!!!! Brian took off a week and a couple days immediately after the baby, then I had a few days on my own, then Kristy for 2 weeks, and then my mom for 2. Their visits overlapped for the blessing and Mark came down as well at that time. I took 2 weeks off from my classes for the baby (one of which was conveniently spring break), but I did resume just before Kristy came, so my good neighbor, Sandy watched my kids for that week's classes.