I have realized something in the last two weeks. I didn't just give birth to a baby. Somewhere, somehow, when Michael was born, a time snatching monster was introduced in to our life. The first time we noticed it we were heading to a doctor appointment the day after we got out of the hospital. We were all sitting around ready so we decided we were going to leave 15 minutes early so we could stop and grab breakfast. We ended up leaving 5 minutes late because it took THAT long to get everyone to and in the car! How is that real?
Today, I realized it was time for Michael's second PKU test (which I had completely forgotten about). I wanted to get there before lunch with tomorrow being Thanksgiving to make sure someone was there to do the test. I got the boys up at 830 in the morning and we all started getting ready. We didn't arrive at the hospital until 1130 and didn't get home until 2! The test only took about 20 minutes and the drive is about an hour. Where did the rest of that time go?
I think a summary of my night last night could explain some of it. So about 5 I realized it was five and Reghanne had basketball at 6. I jumped up and threw together some spaghetti for when we got home. Then I made Denton a snack because I knew he would be hungry. I fed Michael, changed both boys diapers and by this time we were running late. I rushed everyone to the car but Denton was tired. He laid down in the driveway screaming because Reghanne opened the gate and not me. I wrestled him into his seat and drove down to the gate... I spent 5 minutes trying to get the gate opener to work (the bain of my existence). I am hauling down 1446 and my phone rings, it is Clint, no one is at the pracite facility. About this same time I drive into the dead phone zone AND Michael begins projectile vomitting the entire contents of his stomach because in my rush, I couldn't burp him. I ask Reghanne very calmly (HAHAHA NOT A CHANCE) "do you have practice tonight???" She says "Oh, haha no I forgot, sorry." Michael is heaving, Clint is saying "HUH? What? I can't hear you? No one is here? HELLO HELLO". On a side note, Denton had fallen asleep at this point and went right to bed, without dinner when we got home. So at 130 in the morning he woke up asking for breakfast and raring to go...
Maybe time just flies when you are having fun? Sometimes I am convinced I might lose my mind. Or maybe, that I have already lost it and that is how I got in this position!
Somehow, I don't lose my mind and I can even smile because, even with their antics, my kids are cute and sweet and quite comical.
I decided to go to bed around 930 last night. I got up and changed clothes. Michael was asleep so I decided to change him to get him to wake up and eat. Mid change, he peed all over the blanket and my pajamas. I got a new diaper and put it on him. Then he started eating, then the burping, then he pooped. Another change, another mid change pee, another wet leg. Five diapers later it is 1130 and I am just lying down. Sometimes you just have to laugh not to cry! :)
That is all.
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
Friday, November 11, 2011
Part Two of the Birth and a Qualifier
Ok, where was I... So we went home around 10, and left the kids at my Mom's house for the night. The nurse at the hospital had declared me 3 cm and told me she figured they would see me back that night. But "people like me" usually like to labor at home as long as possible. (People like me being those looking for natural births). It didn't really matter when I went, the doctor I had fallen in love with as out all week for her boards, so there was NO chance she would be delivering my baby unless I managed to stay pregnant until Friday! (no thanks)
I had contractions all night but they were manageable. I could sleep for about an hour or so at a time. I got up around 1:30 and went back to bed about 4:00. I was in some pain but just relaxing helped me a lot. The contractions were about 15 minutes apart all night, give or take. Over the last few months I have been working in the ECCHO nursery with two great ladies who know TONS about birth and so when I got up on Tuesday, I contacted them and they stayed in close contact with me through out the day helping me along. Jessica suggested I get some breakfast and try to rest as long as possible. Maybe take a bath and see if I could doze a little there. So, I got up and made some toast and made Clint an omelet and then went and hopped in the tub.
I have always heard how great the tub is during labor. My friend Julie described it as a liquid epidural (something like that) just the other day. For me, the tub was AWFUL!!!! I have never experienced "back labor" but I definetely had it this time. The minute I sat in the tub the contractions got stronger. I could barely recover from one when it seemed another was creeping up on me. I stayed in the tub for a little while and got out. Tried to rest and couldn't so Clint and I decided we would go for a walk to see if we could decrease the time between contractions. I put on my butt toning tennis shoes and we headed out. Our driveway is about a mile if you go down and back so I made that my goal.
When we got to the end, my grandfather saw us and came out to say hello and see how things were. As soon as I had started walking, the contractions went to 4 minutes apart. I didn't want him to worry so I chatted with him through two contractions. Clint could tell I was dying, apparently I am not a great actress! :) So, we headed back to the house and when I got in and sat down they went to about 6 minutes apart. I called Tara and she was encouraging me and telling me how I awesome I was doing. Jessica told me that the point of rest was over, I needed to change positions every 3 or 4 contractions to keep them rolling. I laid on one side and then the other while we watched a couple of movies.
I was really starting to get uncomfortable. Both Tara and Jessica thought it as time to go. I was nervous, I didn't want to get there and find out nothing had changed or have them stop again. We decided e would go and when I got up to get my shoes on etc the contractions were rapid fire. I couldn't complete any task without having to breathe through one. I had been marking them on a paper all day and it was to the point where all I could say was "another one" and Clint was writing them down like crazy. He said "Now it's getting serious" and we hopped in the car to head to Mansfield. The drive was interesting. We got behind a TXDOT truck on the back roads to Midlothian and he was not afraid to drive 20 MPH! Clint tried to get around him by going a different direction. Then when we got to the main road it was school dismissal so we were behind every bus, through every school zone and at every red light between our house and the hospital. I thought we would NEVER get there.
We arrived at the same time as Tara. After Monday night, I knew I needed someone there with experience or I would not make it. This junk hurt and it would be all to easy to give in to pain meds. Tara was kind enough to give up time with her family and call in to work to be there for me. They took me to observation and checked me, said I was 7-8 cm and quickly got me in to a Labor and Delivery room. It was right around 3:30.
This is when we apparently started scaring the living hell out of nurses :) They called me a "trial of labor" because I was there for a VBAC. Apparently they have no hope for people like me. They made me get an IV port "just in case" things went South, told me I couldn't have any food, drinks, or even ice chips and then pretty much checked out. Tara snuck me some coconut water (rebel). And I sat down on the weeble wobble ball. The contractions continued but again, were totally manageable. Tara was pushing on my back during them which helped the back labor immensely. I am so cloudy about most of this, I think I might have to get her to write it all down for me!
The contractions were getting more difficult to breathe through and I was really starting to dread them. I just felt like the "finish line" was never going to come. Tara suggested I try something new so I put the back of the bed all the way up and kneeled there with my arms over the back of it. About that time my nurse came in and, with a very quizzical look, said "What are you doing???" I said "Trying something new." and that was about the last thing I said in a normal voice for the next 10 minutes or so.
The next contraction I felt "something". So I told her that and she checked me and said I was an 8. I was NOT HAPPY about that and vaquely remember rolling my eyes as the next contraction came. Suddenly, my Mom walked in the room, I asked her what she was doing there, told her I was in a really bad place, and another contraction came. This time, I was more clear and screamed "I FEEEL SOMETHING DIFFEREEENNTT!!!!!" Then all hell broke loose, pardon my french but that is the only way I can describe it. My nurse told me I needed to turn around and lay down. All I could hear was sneakers on tile running like mad. By the time I managed to turn around there were about 10 people looking at me. She checked me and said I was complete, the bed started moving. I felt like the chick from the exorcist. I wanted to run out of the room.
They told me the doctor was there and was going to get dressed. I asked "WHICH ONE??" because I didn't know what the doctor looked like (which is kind of comical). For the next few minutes I didn't open my eyes. I have NO CLUE what happened except that I was screaming like a maniac, ripping the skin off people's hands, and thinking that if I could get up and run I would... It couldn't have been very long. I have no CLUE how long I was like that... in between contractions I felt like I would just barely regain "consciousness" and it would all go crazy again.
I started to cry and say I didn't want this anymore. Someone said just reach down and touch your baby. I opened my eyes and looked and I could see his head, I felt his warm little noggin' and all the sudden, just knowing it was almost over, I knew I could do it and felt calm. Then he was born at 6:24 and I was amazed. I think at some point I was like "OMG there was a baby in there!" My mom asked, "What is his name?" I looked at him and said "Michael". (We still hadn't completely decided up to that point.)
He got a chance to nurse before they put him in the incubator to clean him up. Shortly after the big kids came and we all got to watch him get his bath while I ate the SWEET steak dinner the hospital brought me! (It had a bottled Coke so I was pretty darn happy!) I felt like a million bucks. The nurses couldn't believe I was walking around and carrying my two year old all over the delivery room. After a bit, we all walked down to the other room, baby Michael in tow!
What a blessing!!! When Denton as born, I barely saw his face before they whisked him away. It was only by God's grace that I even saw him the day he was born. This experience was SO much better and our family is absolutely blessed by this little baby boy.
We are also extremely blessed to have our new friend Tara. With out her, I never would have made it. She was really my rock and I will always remember her and be grateful to her for that! (Clint was ok too! :))
The qualifier. I described the birth as a "horror show" yesterday and I just wanted to kind of clear up what I meant with that...
I was in labor for 48 hours but they were relatively pleasant. The very end of the birth, I believe it is commonly referred to as transition, was very extreme and I was the horror show. I turned into the chick from the exorcist. I was a little scary.
I had contractions all night but they were manageable. I could sleep for about an hour or so at a time. I got up around 1:30 and went back to bed about 4:00. I was in some pain but just relaxing helped me a lot. The contractions were about 15 minutes apart all night, give or take. Over the last few months I have been working in the ECCHO nursery with two great ladies who know TONS about birth and so when I got up on Tuesday, I contacted them and they stayed in close contact with me through out the day helping me along. Jessica suggested I get some breakfast and try to rest as long as possible. Maybe take a bath and see if I could doze a little there. So, I got up and made some toast and made Clint an omelet and then went and hopped in the tub.
I have always heard how great the tub is during labor. My friend Julie described it as a liquid epidural (something like that) just the other day. For me, the tub was AWFUL!!!! I have never experienced "back labor" but I definetely had it this time. The minute I sat in the tub the contractions got stronger. I could barely recover from one when it seemed another was creeping up on me. I stayed in the tub for a little while and got out. Tried to rest and couldn't so Clint and I decided we would go for a walk to see if we could decrease the time between contractions. I put on my butt toning tennis shoes and we headed out. Our driveway is about a mile if you go down and back so I made that my goal.
When we got to the end, my grandfather saw us and came out to say hello and see how things were. As soon as I had started walking, the contractions went to 4 minutes apart. I didn't want him to worry so I chatted with him through two contractions. Clint could tell I was dying, apparently I am not a great actress! :) So, we headed back to the house and when I got in and sat down they went to about 6 minutes apart. I called Tara and she was encouraging me and telling me how I awesome I was doing. Jessica told me that the point of rest was over, I needed to change positions every 3 or 4 contractions to keep them rolling. I laid on one side and then the other while we watched a couple of movies.
I was really starting to get uncomfortable. Both Tara and Jessica thought it as time to go. I was nervous, I didn't want to get there and find out nothing had changed or have them stop again. We decided e would go and when I got up to get my shoes on etc the contractions were rapid fire. I couldn't complete any task without having to breathe through one. I had been marking them on a paper all day and it was to the point where all I could say was "another one" and Clint was writing them down like crazy. He said "Now it's getting serious" and we hopped in the car to head to Mansfield. The drive was interesting. We got behind a TXDOT truck on the back roads to Midlothian and he was not afraid to drive 20 MPH! Clint tried to get around him by going a different direction. Then when we got to the main road it was school dismissal so we were behind every bus, through every school zone and at every red light between our house and the hospital. I thought we would NEVER get there.
We arrived at the same time as Tara. After Monday night, I knew I needed someone there with experience or I would not make it. This junk hurt and it would be all to easy to give in to pain meds. Tara was kind enough to give up time with her family and call in to work to be there for me. They took me to observation and checked me, said I was 7-8 cm and quickly got me in to a Labor and Delivery room. It was right around 3:30.
This is when we apparently started scaring the living hell out of nurses :) They called me a "trial of labor" because I was there for a VBAC. Apparently they have no hope for people like me. They made me get an IV port "just in case" things went South, told me I couldn't have any food, drinks, or even ice chips and then pretty much checked out. Tara snuck me some coconut water (rebel). And I sat down on the weeble wobble ball. The contractions continued but again, were totally manageable. Tara was pushing on my back during them which helped the back labor immensely. I am so cloudy about most of this, I think I might have to get her to write it all down for me!
The contractions were getting more difficult to breathe through and I was really starting to dread them. I just felt like the "finish line" was never going to come. Tara suggested I try something new so I put the back of the bed all the way up and kneeled there with my arms over the back of it. About that time my nurse came in and, with a very quizzical look, said "What are you doing???" I said "Trying something new." and that was about the last thing I said in a normal voice for the next 10 minutes or so.
The next contraction I felt "something". So I told her that and she checked me and said I was an 8. I was NOT HAPPY about that and vaquely remember rolling my eyes as the next contraction came. Suddenly, my Mom walked in the room, I asked her what she was doing there, told her I was in a really bad place, and another contraction came. This time, I was more clear and screamed "I FEEEL SOMETHING DIFFEREEENNTT!!!!!" Then all hell broke loose, pardon my french but that is the only way I can describe it. My nurse told me I needed to turn around and lay down. All I could hear was sneakers on tile running like mad. By the time I managed to turn around there were about 10 people looking at me. She checked me and said I was complete, the bed started moving. I felt like the chick from the exorcist. I wanted to run out of the room.
They told me the doctor was there and was going to get dressed. I asked "WHICH ONE??" because I didn't know what the doctor looked like (which is kind of comical). For the next few minutes I didn't open my eyes. I have NO CLUE what happened except that I was screaming like a maniac, ripping the skin off people's hands, and thinking that if I could get up and run I would... It couldn't have been very long. I have no CLUE how long I was like that... in between contractions I felt like I would just barely regain "consciousness" and it would all go crazy again.
I started to cry and say I didn't want this anymore. Someone said just reach down and touch your baby. I opened my eyes and looked and I could see his head, I felt his warm little noggin' and all the sudden, just knowing it was almost over, I knew I could do it and felt calm. Then he was born at 6:24 and I was amazed. I think at some point I was like "OMG there was a baby in there!" My mom asked, "What is his name?" I looked at him and said "Michael". (We still hadn't completely decided up to that point.)
He got a chance to nurse before they put him in the incubator to clean him up. Shortly after the big kids came and we all got to watch him get his bath while I ate the SWEET steak dinner the hospital brought me! (It had a bottled Coke so I was pretty darn happy!) I felt like a million bucks. The nurses couldn't believe I was walking around and carrying my two year old all over the delivery room. After a bit, we all walked down to the other room, baby Michael in tow!
What a blessing!!! When Denton as born, I barely saw his face before they whisked him away. It was only by God's grace that I even saw him the day he was born. This experience was SO much better and our family is absolutely blessed by this little baby boy.
We are also extremely blessed to have our new friend Tara. With out her, I never would have made it. She was really my rock and I will always remember her and be grateful to her for that! (Clint was ok too! :))
The qualifier. I described the birth as a "horror show" yesterday and I just wanted to kind of clear up what I meant with that...
I was in labor for 48 hours but they were relatively pleasant. The very end of the birth, I believe it is commonly referred to as transition, was very extreme and I was the horror show. I turned into the chick from the exorcist. I was a little scary.
Thursday, November 10, 2011
The Birth of Michael Emmett
Michael Emmett is here! Finally, he is here. I feel like we have been waiting forever and also like it all happened so FAST!
I want to post about the birth but I am not 100% sure I can be objective about it right now. It was everything (well mostly) I wanted but when I get to the end, the only words I can come up with are "horror show". So, I'm not sure about telling about it in great detail. So to start, I am just going to write about the beginning.
Saturday night I started having contractions before bed. I had them ALL night and was getting pretty pumped but as soon as I got up Sunday they disappeared. Sunday night, they started up again and I was pretty annoyed. I had already missed a ton of sleep and didn't want to deal with another night like Saturday. The contractions lasted all night but were manageable. When I got up on Monday they didn't go away so I was happy. I tried to stay busy, I cleaned some, walked some, and the contractions stuck with me. In the afternoon I decided to take a nap before taking Reghanne to choir and when I got up the contractions started going crazy. They went from 15 minutes to 3-4 minutes apart so we left the kids with my mom and headed to the hopsital. We were so excited!
I had them ALL the way to the hospital, sat down on the bed ith the monitor and they stopped. Like, almost completely. NONE, ZIP, NADA. The nurse told me about how to determine "real" labor. I wanted to punch her. We came home and went to bed around 10 ish.
Suddenly I am exhausted... I guess reliving it is making me tired :) Plus I did just have a baby... I will write more tomorrow!
I want to post about the birth but I am not 100% sure I can be objective about it right now. It was everything (well mostly) I wanted but when I get to the end, the only words I can come up with are "horror show". So, I'm not sure about telling about it in great detail. So to start, I am just going to write about the beginning.
Saturday night I started having contractions before bed. I had them ALL night and was getting pretty pumped but as soon as I got up Sunday they disappeared. Sunday night, they started up again and I was pretty annoyed. I had already missed a ton of sleep and didn't want to deal with another night like Saturday. The contractions lasted all night but were manageable. When I got up on Monday they didn't go away so I was happy. I tried to stay busy, I cleaned some, walked some, and the contractions stuck with me. In the afternoon I decided to take a nap before taking Reghanne to choir and when I got up the contractions started going crazy. They went from 15 minutes to 3-4 minutes apart so we left the kids with my mom and headed to the hopsital. We were so excited!
I had them ALL the way to the hospital, sat down on the bed ith the monitor and they stopped. Like, almost completely. NONE, ZIP, NADA. The nurse told me about how to determine "real" labor. I wanted to punch her. We came home and went to bed around 10 ish.
Suddenly I am exhausted... I guess reliving it is making me tired :) Plus I did just have a baby... I will write more tomorrow!
Friday, November 4, 2011
Praying for labor...
You are all really supportive. I am hearing from a lot of you everyday, "Have you had that baby yet?" It is nice to know that everyone is thinking of me and BBQ and my family. I just want to ask you to pray for labor. I know God has a perfect plan and that his timing is always right.
It really isn't so much about actually being pregnant for me anymore. I am fairly used to it and pain free. I walked half a mile yesterday and jumped over a four foot barb wire fence, I can still put my shoes on, I'm not disabled. I can still do basically every physical task (not as well, mind you) that other people will allow me to do.
The issue at this point is that they will only allow me to "go" so long. At my appointment yesterday my doc mentioned that she would be comfortable using "some pitocin" on me. If you don't know my history, I have had a c-section, labor inducing medication can be dangerous. I am beginning to wonder if another c-section is in my future. The recovery from which was VERY difficult for me last time and I can only assume would be even more difficult with a clingy two year old. It also would put the nail in the coffin of me every having a regular birth again, and I am not sure I could face a fourth pregnancy knowing full well I am set for a third c-section.
So please say a prayer for us today. Instead of laying in bed cuddling my new baby, I am going to go to co-op and cuddle other people's babies.
That is all.
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
Oh Heather, Where art thou?
I'm here. I am alive. I am PREGNANT! Which is not news because I have been pregnant forever. I think what I mean to say is that I am still pregnant.
Things have been CAAARRAAAZZZAAAYYY! My mom and I switched houses. So basically, we moved, one week before my due date, with two days notice. Everything is a mess but whatevs! The house is big and there is room for us all which is nice. We have a playroom again! YAYA!
The day we moved Denton seemed fine all day. We had been packing for two days and we had moved a couple of boxes in the van and none of that really bothered him. The movers came and things changed! When they started moving out the furniture it was like watching someone who was watching someone rob them. When they took the couch out he was reaching his hand out crying and screaming "NO, my chouch MY CHOUCH!!!" and then GASP! they picked up DADDY'S CHAIR, and the world pretty much ended. The little booger was traumatized. He even kinda freaked when we took the bean bag to our own car. He does love the new house (we all kinda do!). But he calls it Bubby's house still. Someday maybe he will realize it is his house and we aren't just hanging out!
I'll let you know if BBQ (baby question mark, for those of you who are uniformed) is ever born.
That is all.
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