"No lie" is a phrase that was really common towards the end of my high school years and the first few years of college. I feel like my roommate and I both said it incessantly. The thing is, I feel like the idea behind the trend is something we need to re-embrace. I'm tired of the lies women tell.
I always wanted to be popular growing up. I tried in high school, tried in college, and even in my adult life at church. The truth is that I just don't fit with the popular girls. I refuse to smile and pretend like my life is perfect and laugh off any small incidences that might make it look like my life is any less. I refuse to pretend to be a dog person. I love my cats. I don't say "God bless you" to people on a regular basis and I don't tell people I'm going to pray for them very often because the truth is that my prayer life is selfish at best (working on it, but honest about where it is). I rarely look "put together" and I haven't had my hair done in almost a year. I don't like to commit to very many things. I guard my time because it's precious to me. In college, when I was still trying to fit in with the kids I thought were popular, I tried to be involved in all kinds of organizations, projects, even a sorority. One day I realized that I was so busy doing things I had committed myself to, that I was missing out on all of the fun things my real friends were inviting me to do. That's when I decided that there are enough things in life that we are obligated to do, everything else that we do, we should do because we are passionate about it. So I quit a whole bunch of stuff, dropped a class or two, and changed my major. I don't regret one bit of it.
So here I am, years later and I see the adult versions of these people I so wanted to be friends with and I can't decide if their lives really are what they make them out to be and they are really that different from me, or if it's all just some facade that I can't bring myself to create to fit in.
Here's the truth: My husband and I have both made HUGE mistakes in our marriage- the kind that people get divorced over. We forgive each other and move on. We heal slowly from the hurts we cause each other. We make it through because we made a commitment with God and He never fails even when we do. As parents, we get annoyed by our child. We get annoyed by other people's children too. We let our baby cry it out sometimes and we feel like it's what's best for everyone in our family. We let people hold her- friends, acquaintances, whoever. I let animals touch/lick her. I take her wherever I go. I take my kid out in the heat. She'll live. Between the shade of her stroller and water when I think she needs it, she will survive Texas heat just like everyone else did before air conditioners were invented. I turn down the monitor so I don't hear her crying the first 10-15 minutes after she has been put down. We sometimes struggle to pay our bills and I'm not sure if we will ever get out of debt even though we keep trying.
Honestly, I think a lot of parents put too much pressure on themselves. When did we become responsible for our children's psychological well being? I love my baby. I think she is adorable and when she smiles, she melts my heart. I hate the idea of her being in pain and I want to give her every opportunity for success in life. I don't, however, feel that she should be put on a pedestal. I should not have to
sacrifice my life for hers- she is an addition to my life, not a replacement. I'm not going to show her my frustration (mostly because it becomes a vicious cycle) but that doesn't mean I can't be honest with other moms about the truth of how hard it is to take care of someone's every need/want. I called my pediatrician's office this morning because there is something wrong with her and I don't know what it is. That's okay. I don't have to know how to deal with everything parenting brings my way and I'm going to mess up in some areas. But at the end of the day, if my child is loved, and being trained according to God's word, then I succeeded. Why do some make it all so hard? Don't do this or that, and make sure you do this or ____ will happen to your kid. I feel like there is an insane number of rules you have to keep to be a "good" parent. I wish everyone would just be honest and we could go
back to helping each other out- truly raising our children as a
community instead of this ridiculous notion that mom's are supposed to
do it all. I know I've mentioned some things we do in our home that others judged us for. I don't really care though.
That's the point. I'm not trying to impress anyone. I'm a wife and a mom and I'm doing things the best I can without stressing out over whether or not it fits someone else's definition of the "right' way. I refuse to lie about my life. I refuse to feel bad if it doesn't match the picture everyone else tries to paint of their families. I love my picture. I think it's beautiful. No lie.
Monday, June 24, 2013
Thursday, June 20, 2013
It gets easier, but it doesn't hurt less.
I've been looking forward to having some time alone: time to myself, as well as time alone with my husband. My mom has been asking for quite a while when I would let her take Violet overnight again. Last time my mom took her, it felt like I spent the whole time she was gone crying. I knew that it would be hard to be away from her, but I had no idea the sort of doubled-over, gut-wrenching pain that letting her go would cause. It's fairly terrible.
This time I thought it might be different. You see, last time I let her go I knew I needed the time, but I didn't really want her to go. This time I WANTED the time. I thought that because I was looking forward to the time alone, I might feel differently about seeing her leave. I was wrong.
It hurts to turn around and know that your baby is going away in a car without you. I trust my mom with Violet more than anyone else in the world (besides Cameron of course). I have no doubt that she uses the utmost caution with her, and that she would do anything to protect my child including give her own life in a second without even thinking about it. I know my baby is as safe as she can possibly be with my mom. However, it doesn't erase my fear that something uncontrollable will happen, and I will never see my baby again. It doesn't change the fact that I worry she will be looking for me and wondering where I am, sad that I haven't come to hold her or play with her. She can't ask for me. She can't tell my mom if she's sad because she misses mommy. That kills me.
Last night I got up to use the restroom and had the urge to check on Violet, but remembered that's she's not in her crib and decided that it would be neurotic to wake up my mom and ask her to check on my baby because in the middle of the night I needed to know that she was okay.
This morning I woke up when Cameron left and laid in bed awake for an hour or so instead of sleeping in. I'm used to waking up then because I'm afraid if I don't, I won't hear her on the monitor when she wakes up.
I miss my baby. Yesterday, I completely melted into a puddle of ugly tears on the the floor after watching her leave. But after crying it out, I put on some makeup, gathered my things, and went out to get some errands done I'd been putting off because I didn't want to do them with Violet. Last night Cameron and I went out to eat and didn't have to take turns eating while the other one held the baby. This morning, I'm updating my blog because I don't have to feed her and change her and play with her and convince her to take a morning nap so I can get ready for the day and do a few chores. No, today I'm going to put on my housework clothes, turn on some music, pour myself a glass of wine, and clean my house. Then I'm going to take a long shower, and put on something that makes me feel pretty and wear dangling earrings because I don't have to worry about my child trying to rip them from my ears. I'm going to take breaks to do nothing. I'm going to have a quiet evening at home with my husband.
Today I'm going to trust that my baby is doing fine. She is taken care of and happy. She loves Nana. Most importantly, I'm going to trust that God is in control of whatever happens.
This time I thought it might be different. You see, last time I let her go I knew I needed the time, but I didn't really want her to go. This time I WANTED the time. I thought that because I was looking forward to the time alone, I might feel differently about seeing her leave. I was wrong.
It hurts to turn around and know that your baby is going away in a car without you. I trust my mom with Violet more than anyone else in the world (besides Cameron of course). I have no doubt that she uses the utmost caution with her, and that she would do anything to protect my child including give her own life in a second without even thinking about it. I know my baby is as safe as she can possibly be with my mom. However, it doesn't erase my fear that something uncontrollable will happen, and I will never see my baby again. It doesn't change the fact that I worry she will be looking for me and wondering where I am, sad that I haven't come to hold her or play with her. She can't ask for me. She can't tell my mom if she's sad because she misses mommy. That kills me.
Last night I got up to use the restroom and had the urge to check on Violet, but remembered that's she's not in her crib and decided that it would be neurotic to wake up my mom and ask her to check on my baby because in the middle of the night I needed to know that she was okay.
This morning I woke up when Cameron left and laid in bed awake for an hour or so instead of sleeping in. I'm used to waking up then because I'm afraid if I don't, I won't hear her on the monitor when she wakes up.
I miss my baby. Yesterday, I completely melted into a puddle of ugly tears on the the floor after watching her leave. But after crying it out, I put on some makeup, gathered my things, and went out to get some errands done I'd been putting off because I didn't want to do them with Violet. Last night Cameron and I went out to eat and didn't have to take turns eating while the other one held the baby. This morning, I'm updating my blog because I don't have to feed her and change her and play with her and convince her to take a morning nap so I can get ready for the day and do a few chores. No, today I'm going to put on my housework clothes, turn on some music, pour myself a glass of wine, and clean my house. Then I'm going to take a long shower, and put on something that makes me feel pretty and wear dangling earrings because I don't have to worry about my child trying to rip them from my ears. I'm going to take breaks to do nothing. I'm going to have a quiet evening at home with my husband.
Today I'm going to trust that my baby is doing fine. She is taken care of and happy. She loves Nana. Most importantly, I'm going to trust that God is in control of whatever happens.
Monday, June 10, 2013
Everything Changes
Welcome to life with a baby: everything changes... all the time. Or maybe that's just what we think is going on, and it feels like it's changing when we are the ones changing (or better yet, learning).
Tonight is the first night since we started giving Violet tub baths as part of her bed time routine that Cameron wasn't here for it. He had to work this evening so I did it myself. We both thought that Violet absolutely loved being in the tub. She is always so happy in there and doesn't seem to want to get out. Tonight it wasn't that way. She cried and screamed and turned bright red and it took me constantly singing in a frog voice with a puppet wash cloth to get her to calm down long enough for me to finish her bath. It was during that time that I realized it's not the bath that Violet loves... it's the undivided attention she gets from her daddy during bath time. Cameron has been giving her baths since she was born. At first I was too scared to hold a wet squirmy baby, but then it just kind of became his thing. She absolutely loves Cameron and lights up in a special way when he holds her and plays with her. It wasn't until she was crying in the bathtub tonight that I realized bath time is the only time when daddy isn't distracted by me or the tv or the cell phone or anything else. The moment he puts her in the tub, it's all about her. Maybe that's why she hates getting out: she knows that her special daddy time is ending and she will have to go to bed.
I feel like I'm learning more about her everyday. She has likes and dislikes and she is different with me than she is with Cameron. He is her fun partner and he's entertaining. Mommy is more serious. We've been trying to read with her after bath time before bed but it never works because she is so upset about the bath being over that she just cries and doesn't pay any attention to what's going on. Tonight she wasn't so upset when the bath ended and I was able to sit down with her and read to her and pray with her. That's something we've never been able to do before bed.
I love getting to know this little girl. I love that every "change" lets me know a little more about this little person God gave us.
Tonight is the first night since we started giving Violet tub baths as part of her bed time routine that Cameron wasn't here for it. He had to work this evening so I did it myself. We both thought that Violet absolutely loved being in the tub. She is always so happy in there and doesn't seem to want to get out. Tonight it wasn't that way. She cried and screamed and turned bright red and it took me constantly singing in a frog voice with a puppet wash cloth to get her to calm down long enough for me to finish her bath. It was during that time that I realized it's not the bath that Violet loves... it's the undivided attention she gets from her daddy during bath time. Cameron has been giving her baths since she was born. At first I was too scared to hold a wet squirmy baby, but then it just kind of became his thing. She absolutely loves Cameron and lights up in a special way when he holds her and plays with her. It wasn't until she was crying in the bathtub tonight that I realized bath time is the only time when daddy isn't distracted by me or the tv or the cell phone or anything else. The moment he puts her in the tub, it's all about her. Maybe that's why she hates getting out: she knows that her special daddy time is ending and she will have to go to bed.
I feel like I'm learning more about her everyday. She has likes and dislikes and she is different with me than she is with Cameron. He is her fun partner and he's entertaining. Mommy is more serious. We've been trying to read with her after bath time before bed but it never works because she is so upset about the bath being over that she just cries and doesn't pay any attention to what's going on. Tonight she wasn't so upset when the bath ended and I was able to sit down with her and read to her and pray with her. That's something we've never been able to do before bed.
I love getting to know this little girl. I love that every "change" lets me know a little more about this little person God gave us.
Thursday, May 23, 2013
The Sleep Saga
Now that we seem to be moving out of the horrendous zombie phase (fingers crossed) I feel like I can relate the past few weeks of our little lives.
I want to preface with this: we absolutely love and adore our little girl- we couldn't be more happy that God blessed us with her and no amount of strife could ever make us feel otherwise. However, until about a week ago, she had become more like an angry little monster than a little girl.
About two weeks ago I would say we were in our own version of newborn hell. She fussed all the time, was almost never happy or even just content, and at night, she was near impossible to get to sleep, and even when she did go to sleep, she would wake up 3-4 hours later and not want to go back to sleep for the rest of the night. Because I'm with her all day (and at that point she was fussing most of the day, required me to hold her the ENTIRE time or would cry/scream, and she was eating an insane amount so I spent half the day feeding her), Cameron takes care of most of her needs after he's had a chance to shower after work (so in the evenings I could fix dinner and attempt to pick up a few things)- he was even pulling the night duty solo. What this means is that I was spending about 14 hrs 1 on 1 with her, exhausted, and still healing from the whole having a baby thing, and Cameron was working all day to come home to an exhausted wife, fussy baby, and a night of very little sleep. Needless to say, we were both getting cranky.
We were looking for solutions, talking to friends, and trying everyone's suggestions. Nothing seemed to be working, then someone said we should try taking her to a pediatric chiropractor. We did. The first night after taking her, she wasn't sleeping better, but she was more content. So while Cameron was still up with her a good portion of the night, at least she wasn't crying that whole time. Each time we've taken her it seems like she's more content and it lasts longer.
In addition to regular visits to the chiropractor, exactly one week ago I skimmed the entirety of Baby Wise and immediately put the principles into practice. Violet responded right away. She has steadily worked up in just one week from the above stated night-time torture, to now sleeping 6 hours at once and then wakes up once, gets changed and fed, and goes right back to sleep for another 3-4 hours (it's beautiful). Plus, she doesn't fuss when we put her to down to sleep at night. She's ready to sleep and when she wakes up the one time, after being taken care of, she goes right back to sleep. This means that we put her to bed and we get a little time to ourselves before calling it a night and once during the night Cameron goes in, feeds her and changes her diaper, and within 30min she is put back in her crib and falls back to sleep. I don't hear her until between 7-8am.
To all of those who told me to read Baby Wise before she was born, and to those who mentioned it afterwards, you were right. While I am sure there are babies and families out there who do better with a different system, this one works wonders for us and I am soooo thankful!
I want to preface with this: we absolutely love and adore our little girl- we couldn't be more happy that God blessed us with her and no amount of strife could ever make us feel otherwise. However, until about a week ago, she had become more like an angry little monster than a little girl.
About two weeks ago I would say we were in our own version of newborn hell. She fussed all the time, was almost never happy or even just content, and at night, she was near impossible to get to sleep, and even when she did go to sleep, she would wake up 3-4 hours later and not want to go back to sleep for the rest of the night. Because I'm with her all day (and at that point she was fussing most of the day, required me to hold her the ENTIRE time or would cry/scream, and she was eating an insane amount so I spent half the day feeding her), Cameron takes care of most of her needs after he's had a chance to shower after work (so in the evenings I could fix dinner and attempt to pick up a few things)- he was even pulling the night duty solo. What this means is that I was spending about 14 hrs 1 on 1 with her, exhausted, and still healing from the whole having a baby thing, and Cameron was working all day to come home to an exhausted wife, fussy baby, and a night of very little sleep. Needless to say, we were both getting cranky.
We were looking for solutions, talking to friends, and trying everyone's suggestions. Nothing seemed to be working, then someone said we should try taking her to a pediatric chiropractor. We did. The first night after taking her, she wasn't sleeping better, but she was more content. So while Cameron was still up with her a good portion of the night, at least she wasn't crying that whole time. Each time we've taken her it seems like she's more content and it lasts longer.
In addition to regular visits to the chiropractor, exactly one week ago I skimmed the entirety of Baby Wise and immediately put the principles into practice. Violet responded right away. She has steadily worked up in just one week from the above stated night-time torture, to now sleeping 6 hours at once and then wakes up once, gets changed and fed, and goes right back to sleep for another 3-4 hours (it's beautiful). Plus, she doesn't fuss when we put her to down to sleep at night. She's ready to sleep and when she wakes up the one time, after being taken care of, she goes right back to sleep. This means that we put her to bed and we get a little time to ourselves before calling it a night and once during the night Cameron goes in, feeds her and changes her diaper, and within 30min she is put back in her crib and falls back to sleep. I don't hear her until between 7-8am.
To all of those who told me to read Baby Wise before she was born, and to those who mentioned it afterwards, you were right. While I am sure there are babies and families out there who do better with a different system, this one works wonders for us and I am soooo thankful!
Tuesday, May 7, 2013
There's nothing like a baby...
Six weeks ago today I went in to my OB for a regular check up at 36weeks and he told me I was going to have my baby and needed to go to the hospital. I had her about 14hrs later. Today I went back to my OB and took my precious little one with me. In regards to the (official tomorrow) 6 weeks of her life I've come up with a few "sayings" that are kind of like "you might be a redneck if..." except I'm not a comedian, so don't expect these to be funny.
There's nothing like a baby to make you lose weight.
-no joke... I am down now 12lbs from my prepregnancy weight (although before you read this and feel jealous if you didn't have a similar experience please note that I STILL look 4 months pregnant). I spoke to my doctor about this today because the truth is, I don't actually mind being fat. So long as I'm not in plus sized clothing, I'm pretty okay with my appearance. What I'm NOT okay with is looking like I'm pregnant when I'm not. So, it's time to start doing some crunches :( (and maybe buy spanx for between now and whenever I have done enough crunches to no longer look pregnant)
There's nothing like a baby to make you appreciate 4hrs of uninterrupted sleep.
-if you've ever had a baby, there's no explanation needed here.
There's nothing like a baby to make your standards of "good" go down so far.
-we've come to measure our status of being "good" parents by the fact that she's alive and healthy... and our new definition of a "good" night or day really just means our kid didn't scream the whole time and at some point she slept long enough for us to put her down and go pee.
There's nothing like a baby to make you stop caring what other people think.
-I don't care if people look at me when my baby screams. I also don't care if they think I'm crazy for having left her two nights in a row with my mom at just 5 weeks old, or for putting her in the church nursery at 5 1/2 weeks. I also don't care that pediatricians think I shouldn't put a little cereal in her bottle at night, or that I let her sleep on her tummy, or use the adorable crib bumper on her bed. I'm her mom. I get to decide what's right for her and us. The only opinion in regards to my parenting that matters to me (other than Cameron of course, we are a team) is Violet's. So if in 20 years she comes to me and tells me that I somehow damaged her in my parenting decisions, I will gladly explain why I did what I did and apologize for my failures. I don't make decisions lightly and her safety is at the top of my priority list, but I'm also an intelligent human being who doesn't feel the need to follow every "rule" put out there by people who think they know what's best: I do the research, take time to find out why they think I shouldn't do something, and then decide what's right for us.
I love my daughter with all of my heart. Getting her cost me a greater amount of pain/torture than I ever would have imagined, but she's worth more. However, as precious as she is to me, she isn't #1 in my life (aside from God of course). My husband comes first, my marriage comes first. When we are both exhausted and start snapping at each other, it's time to take a break and have someone else watch Violet long enough for us to rest and remember what it's like to just be "us" because twenty-something years from now, it's just going to be "us" again.
There's nothing like a baby to make you appreciate "us" time.
There's nothing like a baby to make you lose weight.
-no joke... I am down now 12lbs from my prepregnancy weight (although before you read this and feel jealous if you didn't have a similar experience please note that I STILL look 4 months pregnant). I spoke to my doctor about this today because the truth is, I don't actually mind being fat. So long as I'm not in plus sized clothing, I'm pretty okay with my appearance. What I'm NOT okay with is looking like I'm pregnant when I'm not. So, it's time to start doing some crunches :( (and maybe buy spanx for between now and whenever I have done enough crunches to no longer look pregnant)
There's nothing like a baby to make you appreciate 4hrs of uninterrupted sleep.
-if you've ever had a baby, there's no explanation needed here.
There's nothing like a baby to make your standards of "good" go down so far.
-we've come to measure our status of being "good" parents by the fact that she's alive and healthy... and our new definition of a "good" night or day really just means our kid didn't scream the whole time and at some point she slept long enough for us to put her down and go pee.
There's nothing like a baby to make you stop caring what other people think.
-I don't care if people look at me when my baby screams. I also don't care if they think I'm crazy for having left her two nights in a row with my mom at just 5 weeks old, or for putting her in the church nursery at 5 1/2 weeks. I also don't care that pediatricians think I shouldn't put a little cereal in her bottle at night, or that I let her sleep on her tummy, or use the adorable crib bumper on her bed. I'm her mom. I get to decide what's right for her and us. The only opinion in regards to my parenting that matters to me (other than Cameron of course, we are a team) is Violet's. So if in 20 years she comes to me and tells me that I somehow damaged her in my parenting decisions, I will gladly explain why I did what I did and apologize for my failures. I don't make decisions lightly and her safety is at the top of my priority list, but I'm also an intelligent human being who doesn't feel the need to follow every "rule" put out there by people who think they know what's best: I do the research, take time to find out why they think I shouldn't do something, and then decide what's right for us.
I love my daughter with all of my heart. Getting her cost me a greater amount of pain/torture than I ever would have imagined, but she's worth more. However, as precious as she is to me, she isn't #1 in my life (aside from God of course). My husband comes first, my marriage comes first. When we are both exhausted and start snapping at each other, it's time to take a break and have someone else watch Violet long enough for us to rest and remember what it's like to just be "us" because twenty-something years from now, it's just going to be "us" again.
There's nothing like a baby to make you appreciate "us" time.
Wednesday, April 24, 2013
Mommy Issues
So, in becoming a new parent there have been a few things I've had to learn to accept. Most of them
I expected, but there are a few that I didn't.
1. Regardless of what I choose to wear, my baby will find a way to make me immodest.
2. It is impossible to wake her up when she wants to sleep.
3. It is also impossible to put her to sleep when she wants to be awake.
4. Baby throw up is 100% unpredictable. There are no signs it is coming, and no matter how much you prepare, you will always find that you needed more of something to clean up the mess.
5. When a little baby cries, it is cute. When a little baby screams, it is headache inducing.
6. Baby farts DO smell. I always think she did something in her diaper only to find that the fart really was that bad.
The one thing I really didn't expect is the disconnect in relationship. I love her more than anything, and that was instantaneous the moment I realized she was mine. However, most days it feels more like I have a puppy than a child. I feel like I understand her needs better than anyone else, but I don't feel like there is much of a relationship because at this point, she isn't much of a person. I can't make her laugh, or tickle her, or really elicit much of a response from her for anything other than her basic needs. It feels pointless to read to her and she isn't interested in toys yet. It's hard to think of her as part of our family when my cats currently exude more personality. I understand that these things will change in time, but it doesn't make it easier now. I read about the development of babies and knew that it would be like this in the beginning, but I think that I somehow had it in my head that there would be some sort of magic bond when she was born that would make me feel like there's more to our relationship than there is right now.
The family newborn visits are done for the most part now. I absolutely loved it and am sooo thankful to have had my mom and then Cameron's mom here to help us get through these first few weeks. I don't know what I would have done without them (there is no way I could have taken care of Violet by myself when Cameron started going back to work so soon after the c-section). As thankful as I am to have had so much help, I am also thankful that we are now finally to the point where it's just us and I can start establishing a new normal for life. I'm ready to be the one who takes care of Violet during the day, and runs errands, and makes dinner, and does a few chores in between. I'm still rebuilding strength ( I mean hey, they cut through abdominal muscles to get her out, you don't rebound from that right away), but I'm strong enough and ready to start taking on the responsibilities of my home again.
I expected, but there are a few that I didn't.
1. Regardless of what I choose to wear, my baby will find a way to make me immodest.
2. It is impossible to wake her up when she wants to sleep.
3. It is also impossible to put her to sleep when she wants to be awake.
4. Baby throw up is 100% unpredictable. There are no signs it is coming, and no matter how much you prepare, you will always find that you needed more of something to clean up the mess.
5. When a little baby cries, it is cute. When a little baby screams, it is headache inducing.
6. Baby farts DO smell. I always think she did something in her diaper only to find that the fart really was that bad.
The one thing I really didn't expect is the disconnect in relationship. I love her more than anything, and that was instantaneous the moment I realized she was mine. However, most days it feels more like I have a puppy than a child. I feel like I understand her needs better than anyone else, but I don't feel like there is much of a relationship because at this point, she isn't much of a person. I can't make her laugh, or tickle her, or really elicit much of a response from her for anything other than her basic needs. It feels pointless to read to her and she isn't interested in toys yet. It's hard to think of her as part of our family when my cats currently exude more personality. I understand that these things will change in time, but it doesn't make it easier now. I read about the development of babies and knew that it would be like this in the beginning, but I think that I somehow had it in my head that there would be some sort of magic bond when she was born that would make me feel like there's more to our relationship than there is right now.
The family newborn visits are done for the most part now. I absolutely loved it and am sooo thankful to have had my mom and then Cameron's mom here to help us get through these first few weeks. I don't know what I would have done without them (there is no way I could have taken care of Violet by myself when Cameron started going back to work so soon after the c-section). As thankful as I am to have had so much help, I am also thankful that we are now finally to the point where it's just us and I can start establishing a new normal for life. I'm ready to be the one who takes care of Violet during the day, and runs errands, and makes dinner, and does a few chores in between. I'm still rebuilding strength ( I mean hey, they cut through abdominal muscles to get her out, you don't rebound from that right away), but I'm strong enough and ready to start taking on the responsibilities of my home again.
Tuesday, April 2, 2013
Our birth story.
I didn't cry the first time I held my precious baby girl. I didn't cry the second, third, or other subsequent times when she was placed in my arms. Perhaps I should just be thrown into the bad mom club for that, but it's what happened.
The entire experience of having a baby was difficult for me. I was constantly sick, tired, and felt like I had been reduced to a second class of being. I was unable to do for myself things I had always done and beyond that, I struggled the entire time with truly believing that I would get to meet my little girl. I had a hard time letting go of fears and really felt like things were going to go wrong in the end.
Even when my doctor told me to go the hospital I didn't believe I was going to meet her. I didn't think it was time yet and that I'd soon be going home to sit in bed for at least another week or two.
At the hospital, I did pretty well progressing on my own and dilating. After having been in labor and stuck in bed for a week, I changed my mind and decided that I wanted an epidural (contractions had gotten pretty strong and close together by then)l. I had no issues when I checked in, I was definitely in labor, and my first check at the hospital had me dilated 5cm. The epidural went in easy, I had been in bed the whole time I'd been there anyways, so it wasn't horrible having to stay there. I spent a total of 13 hours at the hospital in labor. A few hours after the epidural my progress had slowed, so I agreed they could give me a little pitocin. It didn't seem to be doing much of anything, so they increased the amount they were giving me. My little girl's heart rate steadily crept up and stayed high for about 6 hours with a few very dangerous spikes. They tried stopping the pitocin and I went back to progressing well on my own and made it 9.5cm. We were so close and her heart rate had been elevated for so long that they had me start pushing to see if we couldn't get her to push through that little bit left. Her heart rate wasn't going down despite stopping the medicine and they couldn't figure out what else might be causing it (all other things had been ruled out with tests, constantly turning me, and my lack of fever). Pushing wasn't getting her through without dilating that last little bit and after 6 hours of her heart elevated so high they didn't believe we could afford to continue waiting for me to progress. My baby was getting tired and so was I. I was told that we needed to make a decision as soon as possible before we no longer had a choice because her heart rate wasn't getting better.
Having to decide after all that time of contractions and getting that far and having pushed and actually felt her moving down was the hardest thing. I had no idea in the moment what choice to make and I looked to Cameron for what to do. I left the final decision to him because I trusted he would make the right one. We told them to go ahead and prep for the c-section.
They started giving me anesthesia for surgery and took me into the room and strapped me down. It was freezing. They started to do a few tests poking me and I could feel the pain from it so they gave me more anesthesia. I started feeling faint and looked up at the anesthesiologist to ask what would happen if I passed out... and that's all I remember.
I woke up an hour after the surgery. My little Violet was born at 2:59am on March 27, 2013. By the time I woke up from the anesthesia, she was clean and already measured/tested/etc. I was handed her wrapped up in a blanket and I remember being very confused. It hadn't registered in my head what had happened or that she was delivered. It really felt more like being in a state of shock. She came out 7lbs 13.4oz despite being qualified as a "premie" coming one day before 37 weeks. My doctor said it's highly unlikely I would have been able to deliver her if we had chosen to wait because she was so big.
No one ever really came and told me step by step what had happened to fill in the blanks for me of her birth. I was extremely medicated from the surgery and it took a long time for my brain to catch up to fuzzily fill in what must have happened.
The second time I held her and knew what was going on felt more like the first. She is so beautiful. She smells so good. I can't believe it's possible to instantly love someone so much. I love my husband very deeply- but it was a choice that I made to love him, and God has grown that love, but this little girl... I didn't have a choice: it was just there, bursting out.
I was stapled closed and had to be (and still am) on very good painkillers... not that they really keep me from feeling the pain (I'm pretty sure the only way I could have gotten out of feeling extreme pain would be to have them put me under and leave me there until I've healed more than I have so far). In the hospital I couldn't hardly move. I held her as much as I could, but my arms were weak with so much medicine and fluids being pushed through them, plus bruised from constantly having my blood pressure taken. Most of the time I just had to have someone sit her between my legs and I'd touch her hair or hold her fingers.
Being so limited in movement just subconsciously reinforced the idea in my head that she wasn't really going to be mine. I was blessed to have not just Cameron, but my mom and dad present through the whole birth and next day. My mom has stayed pretty much ever since then with me. Their celebration of her birth and encouragement through the whole process was huge for me. I desperately needed them.
The majority of the experience was a lovely, extremely painful blur. However, it wasn't until we were checking out that it all became real to me. March 29, at about 1pm all of our bags were packed, and we had seen all of our nurses and doctors for the last time. Cameron had gone down to bring the car up to the door, and while he was out, a nurse came in and had me sign the last paper and take off my baby's security band. The nurse then handed her to me and said "It's all yours now."
That's about the moment that I lost it. As soon as they left the room I burst into tears, feeling for the first time that this little girl was truly ours. Of all the people in the world, God chose us to be her parents. Best feeling ever.
The entire experience of having a baby was difficult for me. I was constantly sick, tired, and felt like I had been reduced to a second class of being. I was unable to do for myself things I had always done and beyond that, I struggled the entire time with truly believing that I would get to meet my little girl. I had a hard time letting go of fears and really felt like things were going to go wrong in the end.
Even when my doctor told me to go the hospital I didn't believe I was going to meet her. I didn't think it was time yet and that I'd soon be going home to sit in bed for at least another week or two.
At the hospital, I did pretty well progressing on my own and dilating. After having been in labor and stuck in bed for a week, I changed my mind and decided that I wanted an epidural (contractions had gotten pretty strong and close together by then)l. I had no issues when I checked in, I was definitely in labor, and my first check at the hospital had me dilated 5cm. The epidural went in easy, I had been in bed the whole time I'd been there anyways, so it wasn't horrible having to stay there. I spent a total of 13 hours at the hospital in labor. A few hours after the epidural my progress had slowed, so I agreed they could give me a little pitocin. It didn't seem to be doing much of anything, so they increased the amount they were giving me. My little girl's heart rate steadily crept up and stayed high for about 6 hours with a few very dangerous spikes. They tried stopping the pitocin and I went back to progressing well on my own and made it 9.5cm. We were so close and her heart rate had been elevated for so long that they had me start pushing to see if we couldn't get her to push through that little bit left. Her heart rate wasn't going down despite stopping the medicine and they couldn't figure out what else might be causing it (all other things had been ruled out with tests, constantly turning me, and my lack of fever). Pushing wasn't getting her through without dilating that last little bit and after 6 hours of her heart elevated so high they didn't believe we could afford to continue waiting for me to progress. My baby was getting tired and so was I. I was told that we needed to make a decision as soon as possible before we no longer had a choice because her heart rate wasn't getting better.
Having to decide after all that time of contractions and getting that far and having pushed and actually felt her moving down was the hardest thing. I had no idea in the moment what choice to make and I looked to Cameron for what to do. I left the final decision to him because I trusted he would make the right one. We told them to go ahead and prep for the c-section.
They started giving me anesthesia for surgery and took me into the room and strapped me down. It was freezing. They started to do a few tests poking me and I could feel the pain from it so they gave me more anesthesia. I started feeling faint and looked up at the anesthesiologist to ask what would happen if I passed out... and that's all I remember.
I woke up an hour after the surgery. My little Violet was born at 2:59am on March 27, 2013. By the time I woke up from the anesthesia, she was clean and already measured/tested/etc. I was handed her wrapped up in a blanket and I remember being very confused. It hadn't registered in my head what had happened or that she was delivered. It really felt more like being in a state of shock. She came out 7lbs 13.4oz despite being qualified as a "premie" coming one day before 37 weeks. My doctor said it's highly unlikely I would have been able to deliver her if we had chosen to wait because she was so big.
No one ever really came and told me step by step what had happened to fill in the blanks for me of her birth. I was extremely medicated from the surgery and it took a long time for my brain to catch up to fuzzily fill in what must have happened.
The second time I held her and knew what was going on felt more like the first. She is so beautiful. She smells so good. I can't believe it's possible to instantly love someone so much. I love my husband very deeply- but it was a choice that I made to love him, and God has grown that love, but this little girl... I didn't have a choice: it was just there, bursting out.
I was stapled closed and had to be (and still am) on very good painkillers... not that they really keep me from feeling the pain (I'm pretty sure the only way I could have gotten out of feeling extreme pain would be to have them put me under and leave me there until I've healed more than I have so far). In the hospital I couldn't hardly move. I held her as much as I could, but my arms were weak with so much medicine and fluids being pushed through them, plus bruised from constantly having my blood pressure taken. Most of the time I just had to have someone sit her between my legs and I'd touch her hair or hold her fingers.
Being so limited in movement just subconsciously reinforced the idea in my head that she wasn't really going to be mine. I was blessed to have not just Cameron, but my mom and dad present through the whole birth and next day. My mom has stayed pretty much ever since then with me. Their celebration of her birth and encouragement through the whole process was huge for me. I desperately needed them.
The majority of the experience was a lovely, extremely painful blur. However, it wasn't until we were checking out that it all became real to me. March 29, at about 1pm all of our bags were packed, and we had seen all of our nurses and doctors for the last time. Cameron had gone down to bring the car up to the door, and while he was out, a nurse came in and had me sign the last paper and take off my baby's security band. The nurse then handed her to me and said "It's all yours now."
That's about the moment that I lost it. As soon as they left the room I burst into tears, feeling for the first time that this little girl was truly ours. Of all the people in the world, God chose us to be her parents. Best feeling ever.
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