Needing to Write

It's been ages since I've updated this blog. I have a million things to write about (and the more time that passes, the more I come up with to journal.) I wish I had the time to document everything. Life has been freakishly crazy for about a year now. Last fall I got pregnant and experienced a very sad miscarriage. Then I got pregnant again toward the end of January and I was so sick and tired during that first trimester. Then in March I was called to be the Primary president in our ward. Wow, what a challenging task that turned out to be. In fact, that is the understatement of the year. Then in May and June I had some family issues arise that are too personal to publish on here, but they were very difficult to overcome.

And above all, when life seemed to be normalizing again, my dear brother Joseph was killed in a car accident on July 1st.

This has been a year of learning and growth for me. I know that the Lord doesn't have us endure trials in vain. The knowledge I've gained this year is priceless. It's been devastating and heart wrenching, but priceless. And through it all, I've in ways never felt closer to the Lord. For that I am so grateful.

As I sit here and write this, I am only 11 days away from meeting my new baby boy. I feel him kicking and squirming and trying to rip right through my lower half. I am very stressed and sore and everything in my body hurts. But I am so happy and excited about life. I have three beautiful and perfect children and adding this fourth baby....it's enough to bring me to tears.

I look back at the last four years and all that we have been through since that experience with my second pregnancy. Life has a way of teaching us lessons. I know I have a lot of blanks to fill in to make the story complete, and I'll get to that in time. But getting from point A to where we are now has been an adventure, and I don't think we'd trade it for anything.

One day I want to sit in the Celestial Kingdom and have my loved ones surrounding me. I long for the day when I can embrace my sweet brother again and never have to say good-bye. I miss him so much on a daily basis that I can barely breathe. There is so much I want to say to him. Just being able to see his cute smile and hear his laugh again is enough motivation to send me to Hell and back...if it means that I've been refined enough to be with him and the rest of my family forever.

We don't get to that point in our eternal progression with out experiencing heart ache. Often times, immense heart ache. I think about what Joseph Smith and Jesus Christ endured during their mortal lives. If I am ever to attain salvation equal to their own I have to endure pain too. But with that pain comes indescribable joy. And so I sit here and I think of meeting this new baby boy, who is likely in the company of his Uncle Joseph at the moment.

The thought of meeting and holding a spirit so fresh from Heaven brings me to tears. I can't wait.

Tragedy

I know my readers get sick of all the breaks I take. But this summer has been full of incident and I'm looking forward to closing this chapter and moving into autumn. My brother, Joseph, was tragically killed in a car accident on July 1st and it's taken center stage in my life for the last several weeks. Bear with me. I'll be back to posting as soon as I'm ready to dive back into it.

BTW, this pregnancy is going so smoothly and he's due to arrive in 9 weeks!! I can't believe we'll have another baby boy so soon. We couldn't be more excited!

New Responsibilities

I apologize for my lack of posting my story in recent months. My life took a major turn two months ago when I was called to be the Primary President in our ward (meaning I am in charge of the gigantic children's organization in our church area). It's taken up a massive amount of my time, and whenever I sit down to the computer all I have time to work on are my church responsibilities. However, I know I need to start posting again and I'm trying to make time. In my personal life, I'm now 22 weeks pregnant with a perfectly healthy baby boy. This pregnancy couldn't be going smoother despite several weeks of intense morning sickness and fatigue. I'm due October 18th and we're very excited!

Episode 33- The Blow Out

Some time around 5:00 that morning the drugs started to wear off and I regained use of my limbs. I was drenched in sweat from the after labor and the constant panic attacks (which no nurses were aware of because I couldn't communicate). I'd suffered in silence for hours. But finally, I was able to start screaming. Something was very wrong with my lower half. I could feel it. It wasn't normal and it wasn't right. At one point it felt as if I'd been shot in the bum. Something was on fire down there and I started screaming for help.

A nurse ran in and asked what was wrong and I tried to tell her the best I could. She immediately checked my incision and my bleeding and that seemed to be okay, but my abdomen was hard as a rock. It was like I was having a massive contraction that wasn't ending. She threw my legs up to check under me and found that something was...hanging out. My rectum had literally flipped inside out. Think of the worst possible hemorrhoids imaginable. That's what had happened to my insides and it was because I was on waaaaaaay too much pitocin. It had caused my insides to not only expel afterbirth, but also everything that was near an opening down in the southern half. I'm lucky my entire uterus didn't blow out as well.

The pit was shut off quickly but the contractions wouldn't let up. By this point my mind went into another place. The only way to describe the place it went to is La La Land. It must be the place that you go when your conscious tries to hide from reality. I felt like I was floating. Then I started to hear screaming...the loudest screaming I'd ever heard. I looked around the room wondering who it was. I was so confused because I wasn't sharing a room and none of the nurses were screaming. Suddenly I realized it was me who was screaming.

I was yanked back to reality and saw two nurses standing over me hitting me in the stomach. Each of them stood at my sides and it was like they did CPR on my uterus. They were afraid I was about to hemorrhage and they had to get my uterus to go back to normal so they beat on me. Literally. Now after having a major incision through all those layers, then to have been through what I went through during the previous hours, imagine that kind of pain. No wonder my mind left my body for a short time. I'm convinced that must have blacked out because I don't remember anything after that. The next thing I knew it was light outside and they were bringing me a cup of brother to drink.

Episode 32- The First Night

I was very fortunate that Hailey latched on and nursed right away. I was surprised since she had been away for so long after birth, but she was eager to eat. Go figure! Ethan had also been very hungry and good at eating from the get go, so I felt very blessed. The first few hours after our meeting was pretty uneventful, but I was in a massive amount of pain. Upon Ethan's' delivery they discovered I had an allergy to morphine which is normally administered through the IV right after birth. But this around I didn't have it and what ever they did give me, did nothing to ease the pain. It was like taking an aspirin for a migraine headache.

I had the cutest nurse named Lindy. She was so attentive and helped me a lot. She had three kids of her own and it was nice getting to talk to her. By bedtime I was feeling pretty confidant in myself and my ability to in fact be a new mom again. Cody wanted to stay over night with me, but I thought it was silly and I made home go home. I didn't see any reason for him to stay because I was doing okay and I wanted him at home with Ethan. He protested but I finally won and he left the hospital at about 10:00 that night.

That was right around the time Lindy's shift ended and suddenly I was left alone in my room and I started to get nervous. I thought about calling Cody to come back, but I decided against it. I was very anxious about how my wind down routine would go there at the hospital. The nurses were aware of the medication I would take at bedtime, but of course since I was a patient they had to give it to me directly from the pharmacy. The new nurse came in to give me my drugs and check all my vitals again before bed. I don't know why I had it in my head that my routine would go unchanged. Everything was out of wack. I felt so cold and alone and very very scared.

To make a very long story short, the night was pure hell. It was by far the worst night I'd experienced in my life. Even worse than the night when the "monster" told me to drink Drain-o. My nurse that night was actually the charge nurse and she was an idiot. She was so old school and had her own way of doing things and disregarded all of my wishes. I tried to be patient with her, but she kept brushing me off. She upped my dosage of pitocin and I was in an incredible amount of pain all night. Every time I contracted I felt like my insides were being ripped apart. I later found that to be true (keep reading and you'll see why).

I kept telling the nurse Carol I HAD to get some sleep. She obviously had not read anything in my chart that Draper had instructed. He wrote that sleep was my top priority but she obviously didn't care. At one point she came in and put Benadryl in my IV. Benadryl...something I had a bad reaction to and caused me panic attacks. It was in the chart. She didn't look or didn't care. The drug made me very groggy and unable to communicate, but not at all sleepy. It did the opposite to me, as it always did. My mind raced in circles for hours until it wore off. But physically it made me so I could barely pick up my hand to press the call button. When ever anyone came to check on me I probably said something like "Pain...hurts...stop it...sleep..." I couldn't get any words out. Inside I was screaming. The pain was almost unbearable, brought on directly from the unnecessary amount of pit in my veins.

To make things worse, I never once saw my baby during the night. For some reason they thought I was better off with her in the nursery all night receiving bottles of formula. Oh...the thought of it fills me with hate. They had no right!!! Looking back on it, knowing what I know now, I would have been much better off holding my new baby all night long, nursing her, on an extremely low dose of pitocin, and in and out of twilight sleep. Had I not been give the Benadryl or the very high dose of pit, that could have been possible. I wouldn't have really slept, but ti would have been much more peaceful and relaxing for me. And my heart wouldn't have hurt so much being away from my baby. It's not like I got an ounce of sleep anyway, so what would it have mattered otherwise?

Not Gone For Good

Hi gang- I've got a good reason for being gone so long. I'm pregnant again! I'm a couple months along now and sicker than ever. The great thing is that this looks like a very healthy pregnancy judging by some tests and an ultrasound. But along with that comes major sickness. I thought I was sick with the baby we lost, but that was nothing. I'm barely functional most of the day lately. My poor kids have been glued to the TV a lot of time. In a few weeks I promise I'll be back to writing again. Thanks for checking in!

Episode 31- Recovery

I wish I could say that the next few hours were filled with me gazing into my new daughter's eyes, or feeling her warm skin against mine as I nursed her. I also wish I could say that I felt a connection with her, or a bond if you will. But the reason I can't say any of this is because it was hours before they would let me see her again.

The delivery was uncomplicated and Hailey no problems to speak of. But as always happens in a sterile and un-natural hospital setting is that she was whisked away faster than I could blink. As soon as the surgery was complete I was taken to a recovery room, which happened to be the same pr-op room I'd been in about an hour before. As my uncontrolable shaking lessened and I began to settle down, all I could think about was holding my new baby. Cody wasn't there with me during the first part of recovery because we was taking pictures of Hailey...just like I'd requested. I was grateful that at least he was able to be there with her. He even assisted in her first bath.

But during that time, I laid there in a cold and stiff bed all by myself, and the only thing to keep me company was the soft beep of the blood pressure machine and the thoughts racing inside my head. Every now and then a nurse would come in to check on me, but more so I was left alone. I kept asking when I could see my baby again, and I was constantly patronized and told that I needed to get my rest. I would have plenty of time with the baby in the next few days, I was told.

It has been three years since the birth. But even now as I sit here and write this, I'm filled with anger. Anger at the ignorance of people and their utter disregard for a mother's instinctual needs. After having been through what I went through these last few years, I now truly believe that there is something "magical" that takes place between a mother and her newborn during the first few moments after birth.

In the animal world, as soon as a mother gives birth to her young she immediately nuzzles the baby. She licks him. She paws at him. She puts her snout right against his. And then right away she urges the baby to nurse. This all happens within the first minute or so. We are animals just like those in the wild. Although we have a higher level of intelligence and we are capable of feelings on a different emotional level, the carnal instinct is the same in us.

In numerous countries around the world, as soon as a baby is born the cord isn't even cut until several minutes after birth. A friend of mine recently gave birth at home under the care of two nurse midwives. As soon as her son was pushed out and the fluid was suctioned from his nose and lungs, he was laid in her bare chest and she nursed him immediately. The cord wasn't cut until an entire hour after he was born. Of course this took place at her own home and all of her demands and wishes were accommodated. It's completely different in a hospital setting. But I find it very shameful that the mother's needs are brushed off as a nuisance.

And I'm not saying that the hours that passed before I was able to be with my daughter again was the soul cause of my extreme post-partum problems. But I can't help but think that it had a part to do with it. "Honey, you just lay here and get some rest and we'll bring you your baby after you're properly recovered." What did that mean anyway? Those words still echo through my mind. How, after carrying and nurturing a baby for nine months, then to be cut open and have her extracted only to be yanked from me and taken God knows where...tell me how I was supposed to find any rest at that time?

As I laid there and watched the clock ticking, panic and anxiety began to surface and I tried my best to calm my feelings. But with each passing minute, it became harder and harder to keep it at bay. Cody finally came back into the room and he showed me pictures on the camera. It had been two hours since her birth and already she seemed like a foreign object to me. In my mind I knew she was my baby, but a part of me didn't see her as anything but a picture.

Hour three was nearing and I was feeling the aftermath of the surgery in full force. During my operation with Ethan it was discovered that I had an allergy to morphine, so they obviously weren't giving it to me this time. Whatever pain med was in my IV was not working and I was in agony. Actually, pure hell better describes the physical pain I was in. FINALLY the time had come to be wheeled into the room where I would stay for the next four days. I traveled on the bed and I felt like I had to hold my insides together with my arms. The pain was terrible!

Soon after surgery some kind of leg cuffs were wrapped around my legs from the knee down and they were supposed to continuously message my muscles to keep good blood flow. But all they seemed to do was annoy the crap out of me, make my legs sweat profusely, and make me lose all feeling in my legs every time they came on (kind of like a blood pressure cuff).

Once I was in my room, they got me situated but still NO BABY!! I was beginning to think that she was gone for good, when I heard a knock on the door and the nurse walked in wheeling in a little bassinet. "Are you ready to see your baby?" She said with a little laugh. I could have slapped her. "No, you dumb broad. I'm not ready. I'm tired and I need to rest. Would you mind coming back in another three hours??!!" I didn't really say it, but I wanted to. Morons.

This is in recovery. I spent some time under this hot inflatable blanket. It felt cozy, but I was mad. Can you tell?