The One With Sam's Birth Story: Part Two

So. We're at the Monday before Thanksgiving. Just found out I won't be having a c-section at 32 weeks. We went to sleep for the night, and the next morning found out my blood pressure was still too high to go home. This continued through Wednesday evening, when they decided that not much was being done to help me at the hospital, and I still wasn't sick enough to cause them to take the baby out, so I might as well do bedrest at home. The way it was described to me by a doctor was "Well, we're kind of playing a game of chicken. You're sick, and the baby isn't old enough to come out. We'll keep playing with the balance." Pretty much we were just waiting for me to get sick enough to need the baby to come out.

I'd love to tell you I spent the time hoping Sam would stay put and handled it all really well, but I didn't. This whole time was extremely frustrating for me. I was off work, wasting my maternity leave, not having a baby, spending loads on hospital bills, etc. I was so ready to be done with all the back and forth. Plus, I wasn't feeling well. I went home the night before Thanksgiving, and ended up back in the hospital again on Friday night for the same issues. Went home that weekend, and this all continued for the next two weeks. I got sent to the hospital after every appointment because my blood pressure would skyrocket. At 35 weeks, I got sent to a Fetal Medicine center to get a high level ultrasound and talk to a high risk doctor. While we were there (this was a Monday afternoon) my blood pressure spiked again, and the doctor took one look at me, and got me an immediate room at the hospital and sent me there with these words "You are NOT leaving the hospital until you are holding a baby."

By this time, I was SO ready. But also so tired of the back and forth. I'd been told SO many times that my baby was going to be out "soon" only to be sent back home that I stopped believing everyone. And sure enough, a few hours after being admitted, a different doctor decided I could go back home. I started to meltdown a little, then another nurse came in and said, "Hold on. You're not going anywhere. We've got to get this baby out." Then...she walked out. Um, hello? What? Please. Explain. Something. ANYTHING. Finally I saw the familar face of one of my favorite midwives walk in. I looked up at him pitifully and said, "David? Can you please get this baby out of me?" To my surprise, he said, "Yup! We're going to." He explained that the platelets had dropped again, which combined with my blood pressures, convinced them that it wasn't safe for me to remain pregnant. The plan was to induce me and hopefully let me deliver the baby without needed a c-section. The only problem is, at 35 weeks, my body wasn't quite ready for everything that was about to happen. Luckily, there was already some effacement and Sam had dropped, but my cervix wasn't ready at all. They decided to take things as slow as they felt comfortable with so that I had the best shot of delivering him naturally. That night I got some ripening gel and they started a VERY slow pitocin drip. I was supposed to get another batch of gel before bedtime, but luckily my contractions had already become so regular I didn't need it! They upped my pitocin and gave me some medicine to help me sleep for the big day ahead. I had contractions through the night but slept through them (sort of!) and woke early the next morning. It was really weird to have been through so much back and forth and know that this was FINALLY it. (My midwife laughed at me bc I asked after the gel if they could "take back the induction." I just still wasn't convinced they were going to let me have this baby!!)

I spent that night being really nervous about the next day. I'd had so many plans and goals for my birth experience, and so far nothing was going like I'd planned. I was nervous about labor and delivery, nervous about Sam's health with being early, nervous about the induction failing and needing a c-section, nervous about EVERYTHING. But when I got up the next morning, I was just ready to get things started.

Also, this story is taking way longer than I thought!! Haha, he hasn't even been born yet and I feel like this story has gone on forever. But, oh well. I bet one day he will love reading about the story of his coming into the world! Stay tuned for part three :)

The One With Sam's Birth Story: Part One

So, I'd these grand plans of writing Sam's birth story right after he was born. It was going to be a lovely story of my journey through natural childbirth, with pictures of the drug-free birthing center. You'd have been awed at my pain-management skills and congratulated me on getting through labor with no assistance. I would then tell you all about how great breastfeeding was and how it's always the best thing for the baby. It was going to be an award winning piece of work. The only problem is, if I still told you that story, it would be an award winning work of fiction. So instead, though it's 4 months late, here's Sammy's real entrance into the world story! Or at least part one :)

I guess the story officially started at 32 weeks. It was a crazy insane week of work for me--the holiday launch, which is always one of the busiest and most challenging weeks of the year. We transform the store into winter wonderland, and this all happens overnight. I had planned on my assistant running the setup and work the overnight shift, but then he got moved to another store and there was no one else to do it. So I ended up doing it myself, plus working some crazy shifts other days that week. My 32 week appointment was on Wednesday night that week, and I'd been feeling a little funny but just blamed it on being tired from not sleeping and working so much. When I get to my appointments, I always weighed myself and then tested my urine for protein and glucose (both indicators of pregnancy complications.) Right away I noticed there was protein, but waited to see what the midwife would have to say. We sat and chatted for a few minutes and then she took my blood pressure. I could tell right away something was wrong, and she was pretty concerned. She wanted me to do some further testing and come back on Friday morning for a follow-up appointment. I wasn't allowed to work for the remainder of the week and was on strict bedrest until the follow up. I was immediately really scared of getting put on bedrest for the remainder of the pregnancy--if I had begun my leave at 32 weeks, I would have had to come back when the baby was only 6 weeks old, and I was planning on having a full 12 at home with him.

So, home we went. I tried to relax and take it easy, but Friday didn't go well. I was put on bedrest indefinitely, was told I was not allowed to work anymore, and had to go for more labs and testing. Most everything seemed to be holding ok, so they weren't super scared and sent me home for the weekend and told me to come back Monday (which was also the week of Thanksgiving.) I had some meltdowns over being put on bedrest, but also started to get nervous that the baby would need to come sooner than he was ready. I spent the weekend resting as much as possible and Geoff was wonderful at taking care of me! Our families and friends pitched in, too. On Monday, we got to my appointment, and my midwife took my blood pressure first thing. He immediately sent us to the hospital. They were suspecting preeclampsia and knew that it could all go downhill quickly. So, I got to the hospital and my blood pressure went back down and it seemed like we were going to get to go home shortly after. But then, my midwife came back in and said, "Well, we might be meeting a baby tonight." I was really scared because I knew at 32 weeks, my baby was NOT ready to come out! But the midwife explained that my platelet count had taken a pretty significant drop and if it continued to drop, I'd be having an emergency c-section that night. So, we got admitted and waited until midnight for another test that would determine if Sam was born that night or not. It was the longest few hours ever!! But around 1:30a, the doctor came in and said that we weren't having him that night!!

Well. That's part one. More will have to come later. :)

The One With the Letter

So, working full time and being a mom and having a new house is making blogging harder than I expected. I'm tryin, but it's just not happening. In any case, just thought I'd share this with you all. We had Sam's dedication at church a few Sundays ago, and we wrote him this letter. We will give it to him whenever he becomes a Christian, and it's a few of our prayers for him. Enjoy :)

Dear Sam,

Today you came to know the Lord as your personal savior. We are so proud of you and so excited for you as you embark on this journey to know God more personally. You are such a blessing to us and we could not be more proud of what a great young man you have become.

On December 9^th you changed our lives forever. During the time we waited to meet you, we imagined the person you would be. When the time finally came, you made a dramatic entrance, and our lives would never be the same. You came into this world just a tiny bundle of joy, and while you’ve experienced few milestones as we sit to write this letter, we are already thrilled with each thing you learn. Right now, we track your growth by ounces and inches—but we hope that you always know our deepest hopes for you are about the growth of your heart.

We pray that you will be a man of compassion—that you will look for those in need and reach out to help them. We pray you will have integrity—that in a world where the right thing is often the hard thing, you will have courage to make good choices, even when no one is looking. We pray for a heart of peace—that you will not be overwhelmed by challenges you face, but rest in the One who is holding you. We pray that you will be a good steward, and wisely use the gifts and talents that God has blessed you with. We pray for wisdom—that you will earnestly seek the will of God in your life and make your decisions thoughtfully.

Sometimes it is sad to think that you will have to grow up in a broken world. We know that in your life, you will face sadness, loss, grief, and pain. We cannot, as hard as we may try, protect you from these things. But we hope that you wake up every morning knowing that you are deeply loved—loved by your family, and loved by God. Our love isn’t perfect, and we know that we will fail you. But our greatest prayer is that we are constantly pointing you to the One who will never fail you, and the One who knew you before we even got to meet you. We are so thankful that you have chosen to make Him a part of your life and give your heart to Him. We love you more than we will ever be able to tell you, and we are so proud to call you our son.

Love, Dad and Mom

The One with All the Scheduling

So, I'm back to work. This is actually the start of my second week, and so far I am really enjoying it. I was SO nervous about going back and trying to balance work and mommy-hood and getting overwhelmed...but I am honestly loving it. I am totally and completely exhausted. But happy. I LOVE my coworkers so much--they are some of the funniest and most wonderful people I've ever met. They've truly made me look forward to every shift that I've worked and have made the hours fly by. I have a new boss, who I also think is phenomenal, and about a thousand times better than my old boss. Sammy has also been quite cooperative and has decided to sleep a lot more at night--including an EIGHT hour stretch last night. That's right. Eight hours. Then, he ate and slept for 4 more. Ohh, happy days. I love that little boy. I do miss him when I work, but it's so nice to come home to his smiley little face! And I like him more the more that he sleeps.

On that note, I would like to take a moment and toot the horn of BabyWise. I am fully aware that this is a somewhat controversial method, and I in no way am suggesting that this plan is good for all babies and all mommies--just tellin ya what worked for us!

I originally disliked the idea of scheduling my baby. It seemed kinda mean--like, if he wants to sleep, shouldn't he just be allowed to sleep? And if he feels like being awake, that's great, too! He'll figure it out.

Ha! Yeah, he figured it out all right. One night around 6 weeks, he was up almost the entire night, sleeping in chunks of less than an hour. The next day, I thought, "Forget this! I'm scheduling his little butt no matter what!" Basically, I thought, I'm bigger, stronger, and smarter than him. I should win this battle. So, scheduling we went. And it only took about 3 days before Sammy totally got his days and nights on track and began sleeping in larger chunks. He also is a much happier baby and enjoys his awake time a lot. I found that the schedule helped me know him better and figure out what he was looking for and how I could comfort him the best way.

I've pretty much become BabyWise' biggest fan. And so has my little well-rested baby boy :)

The One With All the Snow. And Then More.

I am not a fan of winter. Let's just start right there. I'd be perfectly happy moving away from the 4 seasons to a place where there are only variations of warm, warmer, and hot. And, I'm not one of those people who complain about winter, and then also complain about summer. I love when it's 97 degrees and the sun is blaring down. I don't even complain about humidity most of the time. All that being said, I can appreciate a snowfall as much as the next person. It's very beautiful. It's got a magical quality about it, and I do like the way things slow down. I loved, loved, loved being snowed in with my hubby and my baby when 3 feet of snow fell a few days ago. We stocked up on enough food to feed an entire army of people, I started baking, we rented a pile of movies--the first night of the blizzard our friends even braved the elements to have dinner and watch a movie with us! It's fantastic. And ohhhh how I wish my snowy days blog post would end right there.

But no. Now, 10-20 (um, also, 10-20? Really? That's the best they can do? There's kind of a difference between 10 and 20) more inches are falling, and I am not pleased. I'm tired of all the cold, all the wetness that gets in my shoes, tired of all the moronic drivers.

However, I am keeping in mind that the snow I am cursing a little in my mind now also canceled my husband's trip to Atlanta, and that now I get to enjoy my last week of maternity leave with him!! I am very thankful for a few more days to snuggle up with my boys. After that, though...is it summer??

The One With All the New Pants

So, today I went back to the gym for the first time since before I got put on bedrest at the end of my pregnancy. It's been nearly 3 months--the longest I've ever been away. And it was fabulous. Granted, probably not my best trip ever. I haven't shaved my legs since my 6 week post partum checkup (don't judge. I have a newborn, ok?), so I was wearing a pair of too-big sweatpants that tried to fall down while I ran. I was a little disoriented and lacking in decisiveness, so I wandered back and forth between machines wasting time a lot. And after about 25 minutes when I was tired, I just stopped and decided to come back home. But still--great trip.

I've been thinking lately though--having a baby was the absolute best thing that ever happened to my body image. If you'd asked me a year ago right before I got pregnant, I'd have told you I would be freaking out about the amount of weight I'd gain, about my hips spreading, about my abs disappearing and leaving behind stretch marks. But oddly enough, I am not. Being pregnant made me not care so much. In the past few years, I've had many a struggle with my body image. The way I've outwardly handled my [sometimes real, sometimes perceived] weight issues has sometimes been healthy; sometimes unhealthy. I've used disordered eating to drop pounds, and I've successfully and healthfully cut calories to lose a little excess. But I don't know if I could tell you a time in the past 4 years when inwardly my body image has been healthy or positive. So as soon as I found out I was pregnant, I got a little nervous. But as quickly as it came, it left. Now granted, first trimester I didn't have to think much about it, since I dropped a bunch of weight because of puking everything up. But once the pounds came, they came quickly. And for some reason, standing on the scale thinking "This is the lowest number I will see for the next few months" was incredibly freeing. So was the knowledge that I had no choice but to choose a healthy lifestyle and eating habits, because I was now responsible for growing another human being. When the first stretch marks popped up, I prepared myself for the inevitable freak out...and it never came. Nor did it come when 876 other stretch marks followed after that. (I am not kidding. The other day, Geoff says "Sometimes it kind of looks like your belly is on fire--it looks like there's flames everywhere!!" Don't worry--he wasn't being mean, and I wasn't offended at all. He was kidding, and it made me laugh, and he tells me every day how beautiful I am :))

I'm finding myself instead embracing the idea that my life is entirely consumed now with someone else besides myself. And that the time and energy I used to put into my attempts to lose weight or fix something is now put into the daily tasks that involve caring for my son. Life seems so much more meaningful. And, ironically, I feel much more beautiful. I'm not perfect--the first time I went shopping for new jeans, I left empty handed because I refused to buy jeans in my new size even though I found some that fit perfectly (you all know you've done it...) But, I am sitting here tonight typing in a pair of jeans 4 sizes bigger than my pre-pregnancy jeans, and I don't care, so I finally bought them. The cute polka dot bikini I wore last summer will never see the light of day again, but you know what? Next time I go swimming, I'm going to be dragging a bag full of SPF 982, Little Swimmies, floating devices, beach toys, and toting along a little boy. And I'm his mom, and I might have the kangaroo pouch that he used to live in forever on my abdomen. But whatevs. He's totally worth it. And I totally have more important things to think about now. So now, I get to go to the gym to be healthy and for fun--not to meet a certain caloric burn. I'm excited to embrace the new stage of my life, and the freedom it brings. I need to purchase a lot of new clothes, but whatevs :) All part of the fun!

The One With the Non-New-Years Resolution

Sooo, I'm bad at blogging. I decided to make a not-quite-new-year resolution...so since it's February 1, this will be when I become a more regular blogger. I think one of the great things about blogging is that it's an easy way to document memories with a minimal amount of effort. Try as I may, I will never be a scrapbooker. I have great intentions...and I have lots of supplies (from my 6 or so times in my life where I've determined that I AM a scrapbooker, and gone out and wasted money on lots of cute paper and stickers, only to put them all in a giant rubbermaid box in my basement) but I still have only 3 pages of my entire life scrapbooked. I think I should just accept that I'm not going to do it, and move on. Blogging though--way less messy, I don't have to go down the stairs, I don't have to buy anything from Michael's to make it look good, and I don't even have to print off pictures. It's scrapbooking for the lazy and uncreative. Brilliant.