I should be showering right now, but I found this and wanted to share it. Even though I have only been a mother for about 5 weeks, I thought that with my new-found knowledge of what motherhood is really like I could write a best-selling book and women everywhere would buy it and thank me for being honest about motherhood and I would be rich. And with the way we are going through diapers and formula these days I have been thinking of ways I can make money from home. Well, someone already beat me to it. (Dang!) Here are the top 5 things that Vicki Glembocki says she wishes she had known before she had a baby. They are in her book The Second Nine Months, which I will be checking to see if the library has. (And if it's not that good maybe I really will write a book.)
The top 5 things I wish someone had told me before the baby came.
P.S. I would only add one thing to her list: Breastfeeding is painful and I don't care who says it isn't. If it didn't hurt for you then consider yourself lucky. I think I would have felt better about breastfeeding and not so frustrated if the lactation consultants I spoke to just admitted that it would be painful and that I would just need to keep working at it. Every time I heard, "It shouldn't be painful" I felt like I was doing something wrong and would try to fix it. Guess what. I wasn't doing anything wrong. It just hurts.
Friday, April 30, 2010
Friday, April 23, 2010
big boy
I'm sure I'll be saying this for the rest of my life, but I can't believe Blake is 1 month old! (well, with a different milestone each time of course.) He now weighs 9 lbs. 6 oz. and has started cooing! I love talking to him and having him try to talk back. And I know babies apparently don't start responding with smiles until 2 months, but today Blake totally smiled at me a couple times! And no, it wasn't gas! I've even got a picture to prove it! 
Happy 1 month birthday, Blake!
(And congratulations to Mommy for surviving the first month of parenthood! It's been a bumpy one!)
Thursday, April 1, 2010
trials
The nights are going to be the worst. I've never liked nighttime. I feel better when it's light outside and I know other people are moving around and doing things. When it's late at night and I'm still awake I feel like I'm the only one in the world that isn't asleep and I hate that feeling. So the nights will be the worst.
Evan left for New York a day ago and it's been just as hard as I imagined it would be. I guess when he got the job in New York I didn't have a helpless infant and thought, "Oh ya, we can be apart for 2 months. It will stink, but I can manage." Little did I know. Ha, very little did I know.
It all hit me March 23, the day Blake was born. I had an appointment to be induced at 7 am a week after my original due date. Of course we ended up leaving late and hit traffic. We drive to American Fork every morning at that time and there is rarely any traffic. But of course, the day we are supposed to have our baby there is traffic. We got to the hospital around 7:15 am and within 5 minutes of being there I had changed into my gown and had an IV in my arm. Those nurses were not messing around!
As I laid in the hospital bed I thought to myself, "Ok, now all I have to do is dilate to 10 cm, push, and then we'll have a baby!" I knew it wasn't going to be that easy, but I had faith that my body would do what it needed to do. Prior to being induced I had only had a few mild contractions. I wasn't even dilated to 1 cm when I got to the hospital so I knew it was going to be a long day. But I tried to stay optimistic. The last thing I wanted was a C-section. But oftentimes in life the last thing you want is what you actually get.
After 4 hours of labor I asked for an epidural. The contractions weren't terrible, but I was afraid if I waited any longer it would be really hard for me to sit still while someone stuck a needle into my spinal column as the contractions got stronger. I had the epidural, which wasn't bad at all. I thought it was going to be really painful, but it wasn't. The IV they put in my hand was a lot more painful. After the epidural I was numb and just sat in bed waiting for my body to do its thing.
After about 6 hours of labor I was dilated to 3 cm. Progress, but very slow progress. At that point the baby's heart rate started to drop and the doctor became concerned. He stopped the pitocin to see if the baby's heart rate would go back up. Eventually it did, but I didn't make any progress for 2 hours while I was off the pitocin. When the baby's heart rate was stable, they started the pitocin and said that if the heart rate dropped again a c-section would probably be necessary. And that's the last thing I wanted to hear.
The baby's heart rate stayed pretty stable, but my body was not making the progress it needed to. At 7 pm that night after 12 hours of labor the doctor said I was only dilated to 5 cm. I knew what that meant. He told me that I would need to have a C-section. After the doctor left the room I looked at Evan and couldn't hold back the tears. For some reason I didn't want to cry in front of the doctor that was about to slice me open. An anesthesiologist came into my room and explained what he would do to numb me so I wouldn't feel anything. He told me there was a 95% chance I wouldn't feel anything. But, there was a chance that after he increased the epidural medication that I would be able to feel the doctor cutting me. He said if I did feel anything to let him know and that there would be 10 seconds of pain and then I would be out cold. I was scared.
Within 10 minutes of being told I was going to have a C-section they had Evan in scrubs and were wheeling me to the operating room. I wanted so badly to call my mom, but I didn’t really have time and I knew I would totally lose it if I had to tell her what was happening. I hated that Evan couldn't be with me the whole time. He had to wait until everything was prepped before he could be in the operating room. He had been with me the whole day and at the moment I really needed him he couldn't be there. I knew he desperately wanted to. It was just me, the baby inside of me, and a team of doctors and nurses. I felt alone. Very alone.
As the nurses wheeled me into the operating room, they asked me if I could move myself onto the operating table even though I was numb. I thought they were crazy. I couldn't feel anything from my waist down and they wanted me to move myself. But, somehow I did, which really scared me. I thought, if I can move myself onto the operating table then surely I'm going to feel the doctor cutting me. The anesthesiologist then pumped me full of numbing medication. As I laid on the operating table I prayed. At that point that's all I could do. I prayed that everything would be ok, that at the end of this C-section Evan and I would have a beautiful baby boy to hold and love.
Right before they started the surgery Evan came into the room. He came and held my hand and told me everything would be ok. One of the nurses asked Evan to take off my wedding rings and put them in a bag for safe keeping. Then the doctor asked me if I felt him pinching me and I couldn't. That was a good sign. Next the surgery started. Evan had already decided he wasn't going to look as they cut me open. He wanted to be conscious when the baby was born. All I really could feel was pressure. I couldn't hold back the tears. I've watched too many TLC baby shows and know exactly what happens during a C-section. I couldn't stop myself from picturing what they were doing. The anesthesiologist asked me if I was in pain because I was crying. I shook my head no. All I wanted to hear was the baby cry. I knew if I could hear him cry I would be ok.
Then I heard it: Blake's first little cry. He was out! The nurses took him over to clean him up and check his vitals. Evan went to take pictures of him so I could see him. Then the doctor told me there was going to be an incredible amount of pressure. I'm not sure what they were doing, but I thought my lungs were going to pop out of my mouth. They must have been pushing down on me with all of their strength. That was the worst part of the actual surgery.
As Evan took video and pictures, I laid there trying to take it all in. I could hear Blake crying. I was a mother. It didn't really go the way I had planned it, but I was a mother. Evan brought over pictures for me to look at and instantly I thought Blake looked like a Wilding. I don't know who I thought he looked like, but I thought I recognized him even though I had never seen him. He definitely had my nose.
Finally a nurse brought Blake over to me so I could see him. He was so peaceful. He just stared at me. I just stared at him. I kissed him on the cheek and they took him to the nursery to do some more tests. I wouldn't see him for another 2 and a half hours. I wanted Evan to go with Blake to the nursery, but Evan really wanted to stay with me. After what happened in the next 2 hours, I'm so glad Evan decided to stay with me. I'm not sure I would have been able to handle it on my own.
While I was still on the operating table, one of the nurses removed the epidural catheter from my back. Unfortunately she removed it before the anesthesiologist put in the pain medication I would need after the surgery. When I was all stitched up and returned to the room where I would recover, the anesthesiologist tried to give me the pain meds through my epidural catheter...the epidural catheter that was no longer there. I distinctly remember him saying to the nurse, "Oh, you already took it out." And the nurse said, "Oh, I thought you already gave her the medication. It says here you gave her the medication." Note to the anesthesiologist: work on your poker face. The look on his face told me that what just happened was going to be very bad for one person: me.
He gave me the medication through my IV. But, that didn't do anything. I told the nurse my pain was getting worse. It went from a really painful ache on my right side to an intense burning sensation. My pain went from a 6 to a 10 in about 15 minutes. The nurse gave me morphine. When that didn't work she gave me more morphine. When that didn't work she gave me something that started with a T. When that didn't work she gave me Demerol. That worked. I was in incredible pain for about 2 hours. After each dosage of medicine I had to wait 15 minutes to see if it would take affect. The whole time I squeezed Evan's hand. I squeezed it so hard I left nail marks in his hand that didn't go away for a day. All I could keep saying was, "Please make it stop! Please make it stop!" Evan gave me a blessing which helped me deal with the pain. Unfortunately that wasn't the worst of it.
As I lay writhing in pain, the nurse came over and told me she had to push on my stomach-the same general area where they had just cut me open, pulled a baby out, and stitched me up. And then the screaming began. I'm not usually the type of person that lets people know I'm in pain. I just quietly deal with it. Not this time. On 3 separate occasions the nurse had to push on my stomach. And each time she pushed I squeezed Evan's hand and screamed.
Finally the pain medication started working. I had no sense of time while I was recovering. All I was aware of was that I was in excruciating pain and that I had only been able to see Blake for 2 minutes. They wheeled me down to the mother/baby floor and I was finally reunited with my baby. I had gotten out of surgery at around 10:30 and Evan brought Blake to me around 1 am. I didn't want to put him down. I was so exhausted from the day, but all I wanted to do was hold him. I figured I'd think my own baby was cute, but as I stared at him I knew he was beautiful and not only I would think so. He was perfect. He was more perfect than I could have ever imagined. I thanked Heavenly Father that night for 3 things: an amazing husband who was at my bedside throughout the entire experience holding my hand and comforting me, an angelic baby boy that had only passed through the veil hours before and brought with him a piece of heaven, and pain medication that worked.
I held Blake for an hour or so. I can't remember if I fed him that night or not. Then his Grandma Jordan was kind enough to rock him for 2 hours while Evan and I slept. It was around 4 am that I realized Evan never gave me back my wedding rings...but that's another story for another time.
In about 8 weeks Blake and I will be moving to New York. In the meantime I'll be caring for my beautiful baby with help from my family. And unfortunately I'll be returning to work for a few weeks. I'm not sure how that is going to go. I imagine it is going to be the worst few weeks of my life because Evan won't be here and I won't be with Blake most of the day. But, life is full of really hard trials we have to go through. And Heavenly Father has blessed me with so many wonderful people in my life to help me through this.
On a much cuter note, Evan told me that he woke up this morning holding his pillow like a baby. He really misses Blake.
Evan left for New York a day ago and it's been just as hard as I imagined it would be. I guess when he got the job in New York I didn't have a helpless infant and thought, "Oh ya, we can be apart for 2 months. It will stink, but I can manage." Little did I know. Ha, very little did I know.
It all hit me March 23, the day Blake was born. I had an appointment to be induced at 7 am a week after my original due date. Of course we ended up leaving late and hit traffic. We drive to American Fork every morning at that time and there is rarely any traffic. But of course, the day we are supposed to have our baby there is traffic. We got to the hospital around 7:15 am and within 5 minutes of being there I had changed into my gown and had an IV in my arm. Those nurses were not messing around!
As I laid in the hospital bed I thought to myself, "Ok, now all I have to do is dilate to 10 cm, push, and then we'll have a baby!" I knew it wasn't going to be that easy, but I had faith that my body would do what it needed to do. Prior to being induced I had only had a few mild contractions. I wasn't even dilated to 1 cm when I got to the hospital so I knew it was going to be a long day. But I tried to stay optimistic. The last thing I wanted was a C-section. But oftentimes in life the last thing you want is what you actually get.After 4 hours of labor I asked for an epidural. The contractions weren't terrible, but I was afraid if I waited any longer it would be really hard for me to sit still while someone stuck a needle into my spinal column as the contractions got stronger. I had the epidural, which wasn't bad at all. I thought it was going to be really painful, but it wasn't. The IV they put in my hand was a lot more painful. After the epidural I was numb and just sat in bed waiting for my body to do its thing.
After about 6 hours of labor I was dilated to 3 cm. Progress, but very slow progress. At that point the baby's heart rate started to drop and the doctor became concerned. He stopped the pitocin to see if the baby's heart rate would go back up. Eventually it did, but I didn't make any progress for 2 hours while I was off the pitocin. When the baby's heart rate was stable, they started the pitocin and said that if the heart rate dropped again a c-section would probably be necessary. And that's the last thing I wanted to hear.
The baby's heart rate stayed pretty stable, but my body was not making the progress it needed to. At 7 pm that night after 12 hours of labor the doctor said I was only dilated to 5 cm. I knew what that meant. He told me that I would need to have a C-section. After the doctor left the room I looked at Evan and couldn't hold back the tears. For some reason I didn't want to cry in front of the doctor that was about to slice me open. An anesthesiologist came into my room and explained what he would do to numb me so I wouldn't feel anything. He told me there was a 95% chance I wouldn't feel anything. But, there was a chance that after he increased the epidural medication that I would be able to feel the doctor cutting me. He said if I did feel anything to let him know and that there would be 10 seconds of pain and then I would be out cold. I was scared.
Within 10 minutes of being told I was going to have a C-section they had Evan in scrubs and were wheeling me to the operating room. I wanted so badly to call my mom, but I didn’t really have time and I knew I would totally lose it if I had to tell her what was happening. I hated that Evan couldn't be with me the whole time. He had to wait until everything was prepped before he could be in the operating room. He had been with me the whole day and at the moment I really needed him he couldn't be there. I knew he desperately wanted to. It was just me, the baby inside of me, and a team of doctors and nurses. I felt alone. Very alone.
As the nurses wheeled me into the operating room, they asked me if I could move myself onto the operating table even though I was numb. I thought they were crazy. I couldn't feel anything from my waist down and they wanted me to move myself. But, somehow I did, which really scared me. I thought, if I can move myself onto the operating table then surely I'm going to feel the doctor cutting me. The anesthesiologist then pumped me full of numbing medication. As I laid on the operating table I prayed. At that point that's all I could do. I prayed that everything would be ok, that at the end of this C-section Evan and I would have a beautiful baby boy to hold and love.
Right before they started the surgery Evan came into the room. He came and held my hand and told me everything would be ok. One of the nurses asked Evan to take off my wedding rings and put them in a bag for safe keeping. Then the doctor asked me if I felt him pinching me and I couldn't. That was a good sign. Next the surgery started. Evan had already decided he wasn't going to look as they cut me open. He wanted to be conscious when the baby was born. All I really could feel was pressure. I couldn't hold back the tears. I've watched too many TLC baby shows and know exactly what happens during a C-section. I couldn't stop myself from picturing what they were doing. The anesthesiologist asked me if I was in pain because I was crying. I shook my head no. All I wanted to hear was the baby cry. I knew if I could hear him cry I would be ok.
Then I heard it: Blake's first little cry. He was out! The nurses took him over to clean him up and check his vitals. Evan went to take pictures of him so I could see him. Then the doctor told me there was going to be an incredible amount of pressure. I'm not sure what they were doing, but I thought my lungs were going to pop out of my mouth. They must have been pushing down on me with all of their strength. That was the worst part of the actual surgery.
As Evan took video and pictures, I laid there trying to take it all in. I could hear Blake crying. I was a mother. It didn't really go the way I had planned it, but I was a mother. Evan brought over pictures for me to look at and instantly I thought Blake looked like a Wilding. I don't know who I thought he looked like, but I thought I recognized him even though I had never seen him. He definitely had my nose.
Finally a nurse brought Blake over to me so I could see him. He was so peaceful. He just stared at me. I just stared at him. I kissed him on the cheek and they took him to the nursery to do some more tests. I wouldn't see him for another 2 and a half hours. I wanted Evan to go with Blake to the nursery, but Evan really wanted to stay with me. After what happened in the next 2 hours, I'm so glad Evan decided to stay with me. I'm not sure I would have been able to handle it on my own.
While I was still on the operating table, one of the nurses removed the epidural catheter from my back. Unfortunately she removed it before the anesthesiologist put in the pain medication I would need after the surgery. When I was all stitched up and returned to the room where I would recover, the anesthesiologist tried to give me the pain meds through my epidural catheter...the epidural catheter that was no longer there. I distinctly remember him saying to the nurse, "Oh, you already took it out." And the nurse said, "Oh, I thought you already gave her the medication. It says here you gave her the medication." Note to the anesthesiologist: work on your poker face. The look on his face told me that what just happened was going to be very bad for one person: me.He gave me the medication through my IV. But, that didn't do anything. I told the nurse my pain was getting worse. It went from a really painful ache on my right side to an intense burning sensation. My pain went from a 6 to a 10 in about 15 minutes. The nurse gave me morphine. When that didn't work she gave me more morphine. When that didn't work she gave me something that started with a T. When that didn't work she gave me Demerol. That worked. I was in incredible pain for about 2 hours. After each dosage of medicine I had to wait 15 minutes to see if it would take affect. The whole time I squeezed Evan's hand. I squeezed it so hard I left nail marks in his hand that didn't go away for a day. All I could keep saying was, "Please make it stop! Please make it stop!" Evan gave me a blessing which helped me deal with the pain. Unfortunately that wasn't the worst of it.
As I lay writhing in pain, the nurse came over and told me she had to push on my stomach-the same general area where they had just cut me open, pulled a baby out, and stitched me up. And then the screaming began. I'm not usually the type of person that lets people know I'm in pain. I just quietly deal with it. Not this time. On 3 separate occasions the nurse had to push on my stomach. And each time she pushed I squeezed Evan's hand and screamed.
Finally the pain medication started working. I had no sense of time while I was recovering. All I was aware of was that I was in excruciating pain and that I had only been able to see Blake for 2 minutes. They wheeled me down to the mother/baby floor and I was finally reunited with my baby. I had gotten out of surgery at around 10:30 and Evan brought Blake to me around 1 am. I didn't want to put him down. I was so exhausted from the day, but all I wanted to do was hold him. I figured I'd think my own baby was cute, but as I stared at him I knew he was beautiful and not only I would think so. He was perfect. He was more perfect than I could have ever imagined. I thanked Heavenly Father that night for 3 things: an amazing husband who was at my bedside throughout the entire experience holding my hand and comforting me, an angelic baby boy that had only passed through the veil hours before and brought with him a piece of heaven, and pain medication that worked.
I held Blake for an hour or so. I can't remember if I fed him that night or not. Then his Grandma Jordan was kind enough to rock him for 2 hours while Evan and I slept. It was around 4 am that I realized Evan never gave me back my wedding rings...but that's another story for another time.In about 8 weeks Blake and I will be moving to New York. In the meantime I'll be caring for my beautiful baby with help from my family. And unfortunately I'll be returning to work for a few weeks. I'm not sure how that is going to go. I imagine it is going to be the worst few weeks of my life because Evan won't be here and I won't be with Blake most of the day. But, life is full of really hard trials we have to go through. And Heavenly Father has blessed me with so many wonderful people in my life to help me through this.
On a much cuter note, Evan told me that he woke up this morning holding his pillow like a baby. He really misses Blake.
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