Wednesday, November 28, 2012

The Beginning - My First Birth Story. My C-Section. {The Intro}


I have been wanting to write out Jasmine's birth story on here for a long time.  
(Previously she was known on the Blog as "J" -- neither is her actual name, both are a just-for-the-blog-name.)

But I just couldn't do it until now.  
At first it was just too much for me to put out in the open because, while it wasn't the birth I had hoped for, it was the birth that made me a mother, and in that it meant the world to me.  I didn't want anyone to say anything about it, because it was my close held treasure.  And it seemed like no matter what anyone said, it hurt my feelings.

Then when I was pregnant with Ruby I kept trying to start writing about it -- as like a healing thing -- or a preparation thing -- but I just couldn't handle it.  I couldn't delve into c-section thoughts while pursuing a VBAC.  

Now I'm in a place where I can finally write it.  

I want to write it because it means a lot to me.  
I want to write it because it was harder than I thought it would be, 
and yet, it was better than I would have expected it to be.  
I want to write it because it is a foundational part of me.  
And I want to write it because it might mean something to someone else.  
I'm finding a lot of healing in bringing something to someone through my experiences.  

If you've followed me through my second pregnancy, you will have heard me allude to this birth over and over.  You may know the basic story all too well.  But in all my reeling over the emotional hurts, you may have gotten mislead as to the actual day itself.  Much of the emotional hurts surfaced afterwards when processing the fact that it went so differently than I had envisioned. The day itself went pretty smoothly (well, it did for a day that wasn't what I was hoping for).  I really had a lot of peace throughout it.  And I didn't hate the day, or the experience of my c-section, like I may have given you cause to believe.

I want to try and write as much as I can because, well, all of it means something to me.  And I want to write it as honestly as I can.  It might prove hard because there is a strange duality of both great fulfillment alongside deep disappointment.  And the two things don't intermingle well, which is part of why its so hard for me to process it all. But I will try to share it all.
 I don't want to overstate the hardships, yet I don't want to leave them out either.  I want to include the gloriousness, but not whitewash the pain.  

I have no idea just how long this will be.  (I plan to write about the days before and after the birth too.) So as I write I will have to decide if it will all be one post, or multiple.  (Multiple is the decision -- this baby is long!)  
I'm not counting on anyone reading this, because well it just might be THAT long, and I know how we like short stories.  
But I will read it.  (I like to re-read my stuff! :) )
And maybe my kids will read it someday.  

Speaking of which: Jasmine, I've often feared that my hurt and healing from this c-section might in someway hurt your feelings, or your perspective of who you are.  I want you to know that as soon as I heard your voice I knew I would have done it all over again -- 100s of times over -- just to have you.  I immediately thought that I would have submitted to much, much more to become your mommy.  The emotions which came afterwards were not anything to do with you, they were to do with my heart and the ways it needed to grow.  You are my firstborn and you mean the world to me.  And if I credit any of this process to you, it is the huge amounts of growth I have seen in my life since.  You are a blessing to me in so many ways.  




Click on the links to read the
{seriously long}
story







The Beginning - My First Birth Story. My C-Section. (Part 3 - Birth - She's New, I'm New.)


{Continued From Part 2}

The video they had shown us, in my birthing class, of the c-section had made me think I would feel alone and cold and terrified, just waiting for Blake to arrive if I were to have a c-section. (He was in fact not with me yet.)

But these faces, now coming into focus in the chill of the room, were faces that had been with me for hours and hours now.  And in here they seemed like friends.
They picked my limp and large body up off the bed that they wheeled me down on, and shifted me over to the operating table.  One nurse said, "Oh you are as light as a feather."  And I breathed out a shocked laugh and said, "Oh if only that were true."  And we all laughed together.  I didn't feel alone at all.
People were all busy, and it felt like for my good.  I felt at peace.  
That same anesthesiologist, the one who reminded me of "The Princess Bride,"was back.  
I was staring at that blue curtain (it wasn't so ominous) as he explained to me that we would need to numb me fully to do this, if we couldn't get that right I would have to get put to sleep.  
Oh man, I do NOT want to be asleep for this!
He started to ask me what I could and couldn't feel.  
He had this sharp metal pricker thing.  He pressed it into my shoulder and said, "This is what normal feels like." I was surprised he pushed it so hard into me, of course I could feel that, it hurt! 
But I focused hard to remember the sensation exactly as it was because I didn't want to get this wrong.  And then he began to move that pokey thing down my body, "Can you feel this?"  "Can you feel this?"  
"Yes"
He went behind the curtain.  "Can you feel this?"  
I had never wanted to be more honest in my life.  
I didn't want to be put to sleep for this, but I didn't want to feel being cut open while awake either.
So I figured my best bet in this situation was to share as much of what I possibly could, as honestly as I could fit into words.  
"I can feel it a little. It didn't hurt.  Not a lot, not much, but I do feel a bit of something." I felt like repeating that over and over. And I think I did just that. I wanted to make sure he got it exactly right.

The Beginning - My First Birth Story. My C-Section. (Part 2 - The Induction)



{Continued from Part 1}

6 am they woke me up. 
Told me 
to take a shower and gave me a hospital gown. 
"After your shower you can go pick out your breakfast."

I asked if I could wear my underwear (thinking I'd take it off later) and the nurse smirked at me and said,  "Babies aren't born through underwear."
(I was annoyed. "I'm not an idot!" But I didn't put the underwear on.)

After my shower I found that I could not figure out how to button that thing they called a hospital gown into a garment -- it was just a flat sheet with buttons as far as I could tell. So it took me a while to get it on.
When I came out the nurse seemed to think I took all-of-eternity to get dressed, and told me I took too long to be able to go pick out my breakfast, and so she listed some things I could pick from. I was starving so I picked the one that sounded the biggest. She came back with a tiny prepackaged blueberry muffin, that was to be my sustenance for the entire day. I was pretty let down and wished I had been able to at least look and see if there was anything bigger I could have eaten. Suck it up, Lydia, I thought.

I got hooked up to everything. IV. Wireless (but not waterproof) electronic fetal monitor.
*Did I tell you it crushed my soul to hear I couldn't use those big bathtubs, that they had talked up all through my pregnancy, just because I was being induced? I am a my-body-in-water-a-holic -- I wanted nothing more than to live in that bathtub during my labor. But I couldn't get wet. Suck it up, Lydia, I thought.
And they started pitocin.
It felt like nothing so far.
I put on some makeup while I sat in bed, because I wanted to be that "perfect wife, become new mother" who looked awesome, four seconds after giving birth.
The nurse teased me for putting on makeup. (Like she's never seen it before.)

Phhf. I look awesome already, right?!
And, yes, I'm hugely pregnant here,
 but the electronic fetal monitor is holding my gown out even further.
Sorry. I'm still a little vain and had to share that.

Tuesday, November 27, 2012

The Beginning - My First Birth Story. My C-Section. (Part 1 - Waiting)


I had always looked forward to pregnancy.  
Always thought pregnant women were beautiful.  
Always wanted to feel a baby inside.  
Figured there was no way I'd even want pregnancy to end, because it was so magical.  

I was surprised to find, once pregnant, that I was selfish.  
Instead of feeling beautiful and full of life, I felt ugly and conspicuous.  
I was majorly disappointed by the fact that, not only was I not one of those women who had a perfect little basketball in their tummy, I was taking on a form that is so non-standard it was costing me more money than "normal" to clothe myself.  (My boobs grew 5 cup sizes -- from a D before I was pregnant -- to a G cup at the end of pregnancy -- and an H cup when beginning to nurse.  Finding bras and even clothes to fit was expensive, and difficult.)  I felt like I failed.  I thought I was going to be perfect.  
I was going to be beautiful.  
I was going to be the one who gets those "oh look how tiny you are" Facebook comments.  
I was going to be the one who makes pregnancy appealing.  
But 
I was not tiny.  
And I wasn't selling anything.  
And I was devastated.
I had heard that a friend of my mom's said this, about boobs post-pregnancy: "The big get bigger, and the small get smaller."  And I was in a state of depression over how I would never fit into any normal clothes again.  (My big had gotten bigger than I even knew was possible, already!)
I cried about it a lot.  
My vanity was shattered!  

Then at 35 weeks, I found my first stretch mark.  And once again..."I failed."  I was going to be one of those un-marred women.  I was going to get back in a bikini!  
Those marks kept growing, and I kept crying.  
(They also itched all the time -- which made it hard to forget about in general.)  


I know, seriously, I was being really lame.  But I'm just being honest with you.  


Don't get me wrong, I did enjoy feeling the baby move.  That was awesome.  

But it was all harder than I thought it would be.   

And I was so much more obsessed with myself than I ever had reason to notice before my pregnancy.

Anyway,
at the beginning of my pregnancy I didn't want to know anything about birth.  I figured if I go into it blindly, I couldn't get scared before it happened.  
But about halfway through my pregnancy, I suddenly felt like knowing all about it.  
I got all the birth books from the library and read them.  
I was on board with the natural birth.  
My mom had done it both times, and she made it sound like no big deal.  The most repeated part of her story was getting a Wendy's Frosty on the way to the hospital -- made it sound like a fun fest.
So I knew I would be a pro.  
And I knew I would never, for any reason, even in the slightest way, need a c-section.  

I didn't much feel like I needed a birth plan because my plan was to not need any interventions and just "do this thing."  But I wrote one up, basically copy and pasting one that my friend had used because "you should."  

My due date came and went.  
I felt fine, that's totally normal for a first time mom.  

Monday, November 26, 2012

Weigh-in #14 (Post-Turkey-and-Pie-Fest!)

Back home from our family visit and Thanksgiving.

(This year, Thanks-giving has been really meaningful -- 
after watching God move me through all that He has.)





And 
while I DID NOT make my goal before Thanksgiving.
(Close but no cigar!)
I just need to give a huge shout out to breastfeeding --
I mean, seriously, 
when can you eat 7 pieces of pie in an weekend, and not gain a pound?

Honestly,
I thought the answer to that question was 
NEVER!

But I have proved it possible.
Actually I proved possible that:
 eating 7 pieces of pie,
endlessly little-finger-sized-dessert snacking,
and eating till it hurts for basically every meal during a three day span
can all be cause for a 
I-have-the-same-amount-of-weight-to-lose-this-week-as-I-did-last-week
weight in.
All from the magic of breastfeeding!

Wow.
I'm pretty shocked
and 
well,
pleased.
:)

I was so ready to come home and tell you about how I now have gained 6 pounds on top of the one I have left to lose still.

*Ok, so I'm not condoning eating 7 pieces of pie in one weekend. Actually, aside from the tasting part, it was a rather uncomfortable experience, as I felt insanely full and sluggish all weekend long. And I probably looked like I was pregnant again, with a Turkey-and-Pie Baby, with my mommy-tummy stuck out from the eating bonanza. So it doesn't come highly recommended. But I just have to be honest.
That's what I did this weekend.

Anyway,
back in the game now.
Gotta get this last pound off.
(I'm going to be in seriously terrible pie withdrawal!! Eek!)

***
Oh and speaking of pie,
the dairy free version I made for Jasmine,
was great!
You would have never known it was any different from any other pumpkin pie out there.
I was impressed!
Jasmine, however, not so much.
lol.
(Kinda like I expected.)
She took one bite, squinted up her face, and didn't want any more of that!
Oh well,
I didn't mind.
I felt I fulfilled my mommy duties of providing the ability to eat Thanksgiving Pumpkin Pie.
She basically lived off of mashed potatoes the whole weekend long.
My mother-in-law just beat some chicken stock into them instead of milk and butter. Genius! And delicious!



Tuesday, November 20, 2012

Packing For Thanksgiving = Being Both Annoyed and Grateful

So I should be finishing up packing for Thanksgiving. But I need a break. And a brain dump.

So I sit with my tea and write whatever I think of.
(Warning. I feel a bit overwhelmed in some areas, so I may come off as whiney.)

Today was hard.
But today was also good.

Blake, my husband, is under the gun again at work trying to meet a deadline before Thanksgiving. And I feel his stress as mine and wish I could help.
So that's hard.
(Statement totally under emphasizes the hardness.)

And
Also,

Packing.

I HATE PACKING!

I've always hated packing.
And now that I have kids, I extra hate packing.

Sigh.

Actually its easy to pack the girl's clothes because they look cute in everything.

What's hard is {well besides getting all the tiny necessities like pacifiers accounted for} packing my clothes.
I never know what I want to wear ahead of time.
Always freak out that "whatever I pack is going to look terrible, and then I will have no other choices."
So I have to try on like 50 outfits to get 3 ready for the suitcase.
Its pitiful.

Apparently, I need these things. 
Stink. I have none of that!



Then on top of that, I'm having a style crisis.

Monday, November 19, 2012

Weigh-in #13


Well,
I have one pound left to go!

Exciting,
but can I make my goal of 
hitting pre-pregnant weight by Thanksgiving?!?!

Doubt it
 since I have 3 days left before feasting.
But who knows.
(Although, the way I'm downing this spilt pea soup for lunch, its not looking good!)

And no matter what,
even if I do make that magical number appear on the scale by Wednesday,
I WILL be eating pie (and turkey and all things delicious) come Thursday, 
and likely Friday, 
and maybe Saturday.
:)
SO,
I think me and the scale will be having words when I get back home from our trip.

Oh well,
totally worth it.



I did get pretty stinkin close to making my goal.
14 pounds off in 13 weeks of publicized weigh-ins.
31 pounds of "baby" off in 19 weeks.
Here's hoping for the entire 32 off in 20 weeks. (???)
(But lets not hold me to it -- I have plenty of things to be thankful for over my Thanksgiving feasting!)
(I'll probably have to do a couple extra weeks worth of weigh ins in the upcoming post-hoilday days.)
(Hmm does that count for Christmas too??!? Eek!)

Maybe you all can cheer me on, so I don't really over do it?


Sunday, November 18, 2012

Fancy Free



It all started on a Sunday Morning, two weeks ago.
I was feeling really happy with how smoothly it was going. 
I had basically pre-planned the morning routine, getting clothes ready, the juice cup that we need for the ride home was waiting in the fridge, two blankets were already by the door. I even had a printed list hung up on the door, so I could see what I needed to have ready to go. 
And wow! That really helped things go great!
 I'm sticking to it! But that's another post for another time.

So because of all this,
I had some time to sip my coffee and look over craigslist.

And I saw THIS:
Just a couple blocks away!!!

Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh! 
I've been wanting a new light in our bedroom since before we moved in.
And its Free!
FREE!
FREE!!!

Mommy Manuevers

Oh wow, exactly one month ago, I wrote about how I'm working towards getting my mommy act together.

I saw oh wow, because (well I'm surprised its one month to the day -- how fun, but also) because its been a really rough road and I'm kinda surprised that its taken a month to get this far (which isn't very far at all.)

I thought: I would research, and implement, and that the hard part would be the upkeep of implementing.

Well, turns out, I have what feel like huge hurdles in front of me to even get to the point of actual implementing.

Wednesday, November 14, 2012

You Can Be Sure I Love You

Girls,
I know you won't read this now (you can't read) and who knows if it will be here when you're old enough for it to mean something (maybe the internet will eat it, and it may be no more by then) but I wanted to tell you this tonight as I wash up tons of really dirty dishes, and throw in way too many loads of laundry as I trip over toys (well actually the bottom of your big girl bed that is blocking the hallway today):

The Names Have Been Changed to Protect the Innocent

I know a lot of people are fine with putting their kid's real name's on their blogs.
And really, I think that's fine too.
But I'm just one of those people who thinks really hard about everything.
And I'm just not sure that blogs have been around long enough for us to see what impact they have on children of bloggers.
If their whole life has been played out for the public eye, is that strange?
Like people they don't know (and really their blogging parent doesn't know) "know" them is that uncomfortable?
I'm not sure, if my mom were a famous blogger, that I'd like strangers coming up to me and talking to me about everything and knowing my name and such.
Not that I am a famous blogger.
I just don't know if my girls will want this for themselves.
So I figure, the least I can do is not put their real name on the blog.



Thus far I've been just calling my oldest daughter "J" on the blog. Since her name starts with the letter J.
But daughter #2's name starts with an "A" -- and that doesn't work so well in sentences. It looks like the words "a" like "a book" (or whatever) only it never makes sense. So I've been having to call her "Baby A". But that makes her sound like one of a set of twins (they always call them BabyA and BabyB.) So it annoys me. Plus she won't be a baby forever. (It seems like it won't even be for much longer -- its going by so fast! 4 Months! Woah!)

Sooo....
I've decided I'm gonna use fake names. To alleviate the problem.





SO....

"J" will henceforth be known as "Jasmine" on the blog.
And "Baby A" will be known as "Ruby".

Im not gonna go back and fix old posts...just from here on out they get fancy new names. :)

(I hope this does not confuse people who know us in person.)

Tuesday, November 13, 2012

Faith and Fear

It depends on where you go to church, what you hear about fear and faith.
I've heard a lot of different little quotes and adages about the two.
But most of them are extrapolations made by people.

I was on pinterest the other day, and saw this:


I wasn't looking for anything on the subject, I hadn't been thinking about it at all.
But once I read that, I started to think about it more.
I let it rattle around in my head all day.

A Pile of Praise

It seems I've gotten too busy to blog my Thanks for the last 5 days.
I've stayed in the mind frame, thinking of lots of things I'm really grateful for -- I just didn't get to the keyboard.



So, here goes some things I've been thinking of:
(Letting them fall as they may, no preplanning)

I'm grateful, as I hear the song playing in my living room right now (one that reminds me of the end of my first pregnancy)...I'm grateful I made it (through a c-section, the wait, and a VBAC) --

  • That He gave me the strength to do this: To not crack under the weight of doing what I never wanted to. To face up to fears that should have eaten me alive. That He didn't let me drowned and lose my faith. That he made sure to put me where I had just enough, and just the right, support.
  • I'm grateful He moved me to a land I didn't ask to live in, because it is here He heals me.
  • I'm grateful a lady named Sheryl lived the life she lived, so I could meet her, and she could give me the chance to birth in the strength He gives. (And that she believes in His Strength too.)
  • I'm grateful that He knows where my breaking point is, and that he blessed me insanely with a baby who makes my days bright and puts no added weight on my plate. (I was so scared I wouldn't have it in me to take care of a baby after all the stress of my terrifying-to-me pregnancy.)
  • That He really is redeeming things like He said He would, in ways I never saw coming.
  • That He proved Himself to me -- even though I don't deserve it.
  • That He let me prove myself to myself.
  • That sometimes we have to roll down hills to hear "as you wish." 

I'm grateful I have a place to breathe tension out into now.

I'm grateful that when I don't think I can get through my day, somehow the girls both end up taking a nap at the same time, and I actually get something accomplished.


I'm grateful we found a place with a washer and dryer in it -- because my days are so much smoother because of them. I don't know how I would have made it to a laundry mat.


I'm grateful that words mean so much to me now. Random things said to someone, not me, pierce my own heart like fire and I feel confirmation of His love and blessings.


And I'm grateful that some really sweet comments have been felt on this blog -- they mean a lot to me!


Weigh-in #12


Sorry, I missed yesterday.
I've been hyper focused on getting some projects done around the house, so I didn't have time to blog.
(I have like 45 things I want to blog about, but <sigh> its hard to get time to do it.)

Anyway,
weight in:

Thursday, November 8, 2012

Thanks: Day 8

My Thankfulness kicked in first thing this morning.
I was thankful for coffee.
I had a long night of baby babbling -- not sleeping. And when my baby babbles, she does it scream-style.  She's not mad or sad, she's just LOUD! There was no sleeping.
(And my poor hubby had an even less sleep, poor guy was out in the living room getting together a bunch of stuff for work all night. The academic world can be cruel!)
And so that coffee was very much appreciated.
It helped me wake up, and it helped take away the headache from lack of sleep.

I also was thankful just thinking about coffee...
at one point I worked at a Starbucks.
And honestly, it was my favorite job that I've ever had.
The people I worked with are forever stamped on my heart.
I'm really glad I got to know them.
And I'm really glad I still get to interact with most of them via social media.
They still make my day so often.

Coffee is a good thing!
(Sadly my husband refuses to drink it. I had always romanticized the drinking of coffee in regards to romance and love -- coffee and newspapers in the morning kind thing. But then again, I don't read newspapers, and he reads them (well electronically) so I guess we are even.)

Wednesday, November 7, 2012

Thanks: Day 7

I'm thankful for two girls that sing.

Today both my girls were sick. Well one was sick, and one is working through a recent vaccination while teething!

And it was a rough day.

But at one point while I nursed the baby on the bed, I heard my toddler singing so clear and bright, and with all the words just right, out in the living room. It melted my heart. And it made my day.

And my baby is a singer already too. She is so vocal. Coo-shouting all the time. She even sings when she takes breaks from nursing. It cracks me up. And I find it so interesting. She is totally herself. Her older sister never made so many sounds at her age. It will be fun watching them grow.

I'm also thankful for a husband who will let me run out of the house for an hour to grab some library books and movies, and some supplies for my new-light-project. (It looks awesome! I'm super excited about it!) Seeing the outside world on my own makes my lungs feel new.

I can take on tomorrow now. (But I am praying tomorrow doesn't start in the middle of the night...that our little ones sleep well through their getting well.)

Tuesday, November 6, 2012

Thanks: Day 6

I have to take a deep breath today to find my thankful.
The night ended hard.
My toddler has a runny nose and cough. My baby has a low grade fever from her shots yesterday.
We fought hard to get the toddler to bed, despite the fact that she was exhausted!
And that exhausted me.
Then, the tension of the election.
Its exhausting.
And I'm not even one to focus on politics.

So...
deep breath.

.
.
.

I am thankful that I found a place in me that is ok with winging it, while planing it.

I've been working on getting a game plan together for how to have a well run day.
And I've come up with ideas, and want to accomplish them.
I'm grateful that I was able to start implementing the thoughts before they were fully formed, and how smoothly it went, and how clearly I was shown that two year olds are easy audiences.

I'm grateful that up until about 5:30pm, our day went pretty awesome for how messily it could have gone.

I'm also grateful that my husband got us out to vote early, so that today, with two sickish girls on my hands, I could just get through my day at home.

And I'm thankful that I have a sweet husband who's always willing to run to the store to get that one little thing we need -- tonight = Vicks Vapor Rub and Baby Tylenol.

And I'm thankful, that right at this moment, no one is crying!
ha, I knew that sentence was tempting fate.
...
Now, no one is crying.

Monday, November 5, 2012

The Fake Nanny in My Head

I spent way too much time wishing I had a nanny.

It has much less to do with what I used to figure people had nannies for. Pre-kids, I figured you had a nanny so you could either work, or lead a frivolous life. So I didn't see a nanny being on my radar.
So wondering why it's always in my head now, has sent me on a thought processing process.
And really, my reoccurring desire for a nanny, boils down to I get afraid a lot.

Weigh-in #11

Well,
Still 3 lbs left to lose.
And I have to say, I'm happy with that.
I basically, in essence, spent last week trying to gain weight.
Not really, but I ate a LOT.
Add up left-over Halloween candy (we always seem to live somewhere where no one trick-or-treats) that I couldn't keep my hands off of.
Plus two date nights, one including tons of ice-cream, the other a buffet.
And yeah.
Staying the same weight was kinda awesome.
Last week was a undeclared food holiday, since my mom was in town, so Blake and I got to have a real date night.
(It was the first time we were in a theater in Iowa, where I was not pregnant. We both felt like that felt kinda weird. I however did enjoy sitting with improper posture! Woohoo, no titlted-baby-fears!)

Hopefully I can get my head back in the game now.
Cause really, at this point I keep thinking "what's three pounds?" "Who cares?"

Motivate me, people!
(lol. I know, motivation comes from within. But seriously... Motivate me!)

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