Anthony "Tony" Wallace Saigh is here.

Almost four weeks after our littlest man arrived, and I'm finally getting around to writing about his birth story. I'm pretty sure our first two kids had their birth stories up on the blog the day after they arrived.

Needless to say, life with three kids has been a whirlwind.

(Video of Tony's first couple weeks: Sorry, the audio is all over the place.)

My water broke at home at 4:20 a.m. on March 14th. Papa Saigh fell asleep with our 6-year-old in her bed that night, and had just come back into our bed to sleep with me. I woke up and remember telling him that I was dreaming about horseback riding while I was nine months pregnant. We both laughed, and I rolled over because I had a cramp in my stomach. Then, POP... my water broke. When you have two kids at home, your water breaking in the middle of the night isn't exactly convenient. I texted our neighbors who we had "on call" to see if someone could run over to be in the house with the kids while my sister made the drive from Hopkins. I knew my sister wouldn't be able to be to the house for at least a half hour, and I wanted to get to the hospital so I didn't miss the chance to get an epidural. I was already dilated to 4cm at my last OB visit (38 weeks), so I had no idea how fast this baby would come.

Our wonderful neighbor, Jen, was thankfully able to run over to be in the house with our two older kids while Papa Saigh and I drove to the hospital. I wasn't having contractions or any pain, but the first thing I told the nurses when we got to the hospital was to send the epidural man in. While I was laying in bed and a nurse was examining me, my water gushed out again, and all over my iPhone, which I had laid on the bed next to me.

Gross. My phone still works though!

I think this is my last belly pic at 38 weeks and 2 days with Baby Tony.

For some reason, my epidural took three tries to get it in place. Not only was this incredibly uncomfortable for me, but it almost made Papa Saigh pass out. I remember looking up at him after a nurse told him that he should sit down, and he was as white as a ghost. Thankfully, the epidural was put into place, and Papa Saigh ended up not passing out.

A couple hours went by after my water broke, and since I wasn't progressing as quickly as I should be, the doctor started some Petocin. A short time later (at about 9am to be exact), I told Papa Saigh that my body felt like it was pushing... only I wasn't pushing. The nurse came in to check me, felt the baby's head, and rushed the doctor in. All I remember saying was that I felt like I was going to poop, and that the doctor should put on a mask. Since my epidural was working incredibly well, the doctor, nurses, Papa Saigh and I all laughed about me pushing out the biggest poop of my life (AKA, the baby), between my pushes.

Our oldest with our youngest.

Baby Tony under the bilirubin lights.

After about five rounds of pushing, and less than 20 minutes later, I had pushed out a 10-pound baby boy! While I felt all the pressure of him coming out, I didn't feel any pain. I didn't believe the nurses and doctors when they were getting ready to put him on the scale, predicting he'd be a 9-pound baby. My first two babies were each under 8 lbs., so there was no way I just pushed out that big of a baby at 38 weeks. Sure enough, Baby Tony weighed in at 10 lbs., measured 21.5 in., and was born at 9:18 a.m. on March 14th, 2018 (Pi Day!).

For some reason, Papa Saigh and I were sure this baby was going to be a girl, so we both were very surprised when they put the baby on my chest and told us it was a boy. We were completely undecided on a boy name. My top choice was Wallace (my late maternal grandmother's maiden name - she loved St. Patrick's Day), but I also liked the idea of naming our son after his Dad (Papa Saigh's name is "AJ": Anthony James). To be honest though, I'm not the biggest fan of the name Anthony (sorry, Pammy... lol!). I do, however, love the name Tony. Plus, our butterball of a baby needed a strong, "tough" name.

Going home from the hospital on St. Patrick's Day 2018.

So, Anthony Wallace Saigh it is (AKA, Baby Tony).

Not only did my gestational diabetes give me a 10-pound baby, but Baby Tony's bilirubin levels were very high. So high, in fact, we had to stay an extra night in the hospital so he could lay under the hospital's bilirubin lights. While all I wanted to do was snuggle my newborn, I had to watch him lay in just his diaper under the blue lights, from across my hospital room. It was torture, but I knew it was what was best for him at that moment. On our discharge day (March 17th - St. Patrick's Day), Baby Tony 's bilirubin level had dropped out of the "high risk" category, and we were sent home with a bilirubin-light bed that he needed to lay on for one day. Tony's pediatrician confirmed his normal bilirubin level at an appointment a couple days later.

If you know me, or have followed this blog, you know that I battled postpartum depression and anxiety following the birth of my first two kiddos. This time around, my OB and I came up with a plan to start taking an anti-anxiety/depression medication two weeks after the birth. The two-week wait was my idea, because I was SO sure that I could beat PPD/A this time around. I mean, after two kids, I had learned to be a much calmer mom who no longer sweats the small stuff.

Holy sh*t, was I wrong.

By day two in the hospital, I was an emotional roller coaster. I remember watching our oldest (Linna) walk into the hospital room with her Dad to meet her baby brother, and I completely lost it. She looked so grown up, and the sight of my first baby and my last baby together turned me into a ball of mush. Later that same day, I was FaceTiming with my parents who were in Florida for their regular March getaway from the Minnesota cold. During the call, my mom told me how hard of a time she was having being away from me and her new grandbaby, so she and my Dad decided to fly home a week early.

Again, I lost it, and it was at that point that both my husband and I realized that I needed to start my medication. In fact, I should have started it days ago.

This is a prime example of how mental illness is completely beyond a person's control. I thought I could navigate my own way through the emotional roller coaster I was on after the birth of my third baby, but again, it was completely out of my hands. I could have tried to fight it, or even attempt to ignore it, but this ugly and scary monster was rearing it's ugly head once again.

I am so thankful I surrendered right then and there, even though I was still apprehensive, and wanting to fight it.

For the last three weeks, I've struggled with anxiety daily. While this round is nowhere near as scary as my battles with PPD/A after my first two babies, it's still been a struggle. However, getting on medication sooner, rather than later, has really helped me. And I know that every day will get better.

Big Brother Jimmy with his Baby Brother Tony.

Linna, Tony, and Jimmy on Easter.

I am so thankful for my family, friends, neighbors, husband, and other moms who have been there to support me. Talking about how I'm feeling every day helps, and having others step in to cook for our family, take care of the bigger kids, etc., has been more help than anyone will ever know.

I am beyond grateful.

Our family is now complete, and Baby Tony couldn't be sweeter. His big sister has been a mama bird from the moment she met her baby brother, and while Big Brother Jimmy took a little longer to get used to the idea of having a baby in the house, he's now smothering his baby brother with snuggles and love. Since we brought Tony home, I've been sleeping with him in our master bedroom, while Papa Saigh sleeps with our 6-year-old in her room, and 2-year-old Jimmy sleeps in his room in the crib. While this isn't a forever sleeping arrangement, it's working for us while the baby is up to eat every three hours. Papa Saigh has gotten up with the baby a couple nights, but I'm finding it helpful to go to bed with our 6-year-old in her bed at 7:30 p.m. a couple times a week, so I can get three hours of sleep before I'm up every three hours between 10:30 p.m. - 6:30 a.m. Sleep is SO important, and I'm taking it whenever I can get it. Both Linna and Jimmy run into our room every morning so they can hug and snuggle their baby brother.

While I tried, and was successful at getting Baby Tony to latch, I've decided that nursing him just isn't for me. I know it would be convenient to whip my boob out and feed him without washing, prepping, or pumping milk into a bottle, it's just not the right fit for us. My nipples hurt, and I spend SO much time pumping and nursing, which isn't manageable with two other kids to take care of (in my opinion). Pumping and bottle-feeding is working for us, as it did with my other two kids. However, it's comforting knowing that I can nurse if we're ever in a pinch. This time, I'll pump as long as I'm comfortable with. I'm not letting it stress me out, and I often go 4-5 hours between my pump sessions. I'm an "over-producer", so I was fortunate to save tons milk in the freezer during these past few weeks. So much, that we decided to order a deep-freeze. Once my supply runs dry, or the frozen milk runs out, it's onto formula. But breastmilk is something I refuse to stress about.

We're definitely still in the "thick" of the newborn days, and while Papa Saigh and I are both tired, we know these days are numbered. While it's hard to see it now, one day, we WILL miss this madness. I'm trying to remind myself of this on the really tough days.

Welcome to the world, Baby Tony!