Birth Story

This birth story has such a unique place in my heart. My desire for a natural birth was so strong. I studied, and studied, and read, and studied, and stressed. Boy, did I stress. My fear of a repeat cesarean drove me to extremes. I had a couple of panic attacks and drove my husband crazy. This pregnancy came so unexpectedly. So quickly! I remember crying when I found out. Not because I didn’t want my baby, but because my c-section scared me so much. Not only that, but I felt like Ellie was being cheated. I was already feeling so sick and there were days that all Ellie did was watch Baby Einstein. I had to stop breastfeeding because my milk dried up. I felt like such a failure even though it was just my body making sure this new baby was getting the proper nutrients.

As time went on, I had stopped worrying so much about all the bad that could happen and started to just trust that what would happen would happen. My body knew what to do and I was determined to let it work the way it was meant to. I got a doula, which eased my mind tremendously and I decided that natural birth was the best way for me to avoid another section. My nausea, of course, went away, and Ellie got her mom back for the majority of the pregnancy. I look back on those times and wish that I had appreciated them more. Especially nights when she would snuggle on my shoulder before bed. I don’t get those moments as much anymore now that baby boy is here. It’s hard when you have two great kids that you want to spend as much time as possible with.

Fast forward to January 10^th. My contractions woke me up at 6:30. They were mild but different from the ‘pre’ contractions I’d been feeling since December. I knew this was the beginning. I started timing them but they were mostly far apart and irregular so I settled into the fact that soon I’d be meeting my baby. I ate breakfast and tried to go back to sleep. Around 8:00 Ryan and Ellie woke up and I let him know what was happening. We went for a walk to try and speed things up but didn’t get far before I felt absolutely starving again. Really, I felt like I hadn’t eaten in days. So we headed down to the local pub to pick up some breakfast burritos.

Things started to slow down a bit so I took a nap. I was lucky it was a Saturday so grandma and dad were there to take full time care of Ellie. During my nap, it was like my contractions disappeared. When I did have one though it was intense. Once I woke up, that intensity was matched with consistency. Things picked up and I started to make noises during contractions. I called my doula to come over. Once she was here she took a look at me and said that I was probably still going through pre-labor. The last thing I wanted to do was go to the hospital ‘early’ and get trapped there. They had a stupid policy that VBAC’s (vaginal birth after a cesarean) had to be monitored consistently in case of uterine rupture (which is a 1% chance, by the way). I did not want to be tied down so I listened to her advice and stayed home.

She left and I took a shower to help ease the pain. I tried to sleep but it was so painful! I couldn’t help but think that I was just being a baby and I was probably only dilated to a 3 or something. My worst fear was a repeat of last time. Going to the hospital after all that work at home and only being dilated to a 3. Regardless of my fear, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I needed to go to the hospital. So we packed up, sent Lisa (my doula) a text, and left for the hospital. I quickly ate half of a banana (which I would soon regret). While in the car, my contractions got crazy painful. They were coming 2-3 minutes apart! We got to the hospital around midnight and they checked us in immediately. I tensed with fear as they checked my cervix. To my great relief I was at a 7! Not only was my reaction to the pain justified, but I was also progressing! Something I never thought possible!

Lisa arrived and the hard part began. I switched positions several times. The most comfortable was on hands and knees resting on a ball but things didn’t seem to progress in that position and they couldn’t pick up the baby on the monitor. I tried several positions that were comfortable for me but the position that they wanted me in the most was on my left side. Every time I was on my left side I started to throw up. My contractions were so painful, so quick, that my body couldn’t help but empty itself. The banana was definitely a mistake. As was the bowl of coco puffs I’d eaten earlier that day. Yuck.

As the pain and throwing up increased, I found myself fighting labor. I became so angry that I was experiencing so much pain and that the only way for me to speed up the process was to be in even MORE pain. Stronger pain. It terrified me and my fear, inevitably, stalled my labor. The doctor checked me a couple hours after I came in. I was at an 8. Not what you want to hear after so much work. I complained, I wailed, I cried, I screamed. I WANTED an epidural. I was tired. Not just tired. I was exhausted. At one point, I started losing control of my body after a contraction was done and just falling asleep. I’d never felt anything like it. Ryan says that I didn’t look like myself. My eyes rolled around like I was possessed and, at times, that’s certainly what it felt like. It wasn’t just the pain of the contractions but everything. The sickness, the waves of pain. It’s difficult to describe.

In my darkest moment, my desire to give up overcame me. I looked at Lisa and Ryan and said through a choked voice, “I WANT an epidural.” Lisa quietly but sternly said, “Nobody is forcing you to do this, Sally.”

That’s when I realized that I wanted them to choose for me so I didn't have to. I would tell them that I wanted an epidural, but I never actually asked a nurse. I never made the move to get an epidural because I didn’t want to quit on something I’d tried so hard to accomplish. And if I did quit, I wanted to trick my mind into believing it was someone else’s choice. I felt like a coward.

The doctor came in and suggested we break my water to help me progress through this horrible transition. I consented, though I was horrified that the pain was inevitably going to get worse. Once my water was broken I felt like my mind receded into a cave. I went into myself trying to do what Lisa said and just ‘let things happen’. Things became a bit of an excruciating blur. The nurses would try to adjust my monitor and I would cry for them to stop touching me. I just wanted to be left alone to let my body work.

The next thing I remember was being checked. I was at a 9 and a half. Lisa warned me that soon I would feel pressure. Soon I would feel the urge to push. I remember the first time I felt it I screamed out, “Pressure!”

It was such an incredibly bizarre feeling. I always thought I would need to be told when to push. But my body did it almost involuntarily. Without my consent. My hands and face started to go numb and Lisa had to help me breathe properly. They placed an oxygen mask on me and I had both Ryan and Lisa on either side so I could squeeze their hands during a contraction. I made a lot of noise. Ryan said it sounded like a goat being sacrificed, which makes me laugh now because I remember being loud. I was doing what I felt was necessary to get my baby out. From all my research of birth on YouTube I realized that some women were vocal during labor and some were silent. Considering the fact that I’m a singer and a bit of a loud mouth anyway, it wasn’t a big surprise.

The doctor finally came in and checked me. The baby making his way down the birth canal. She started to get ready to catch him. I remember her saying, “Sally, you are doing some really effective pushing so you need to wait for me to get ready.” I did my best to stop my body from pushing but the pain was unbearable. Luckily, she got ready quickly and I was able to push again.

The doctor and Lisa were both shouting things at me but because I was making so much noise I could barely hear them. Ryan, bless him, has the loudest voice of anyone I know and he was repeating their instructions over the sound of my tortured goat noises. At one point, he yelled that the baby’s hand was resting on the side of his face and that the doctor would have to push it back inside before I could fully deliver him. I don’t remember feeling her do it because I was in this crazy primal place, but even now, he likes to have his hand next to his face. I pushed and pushed and within 10 minutes of pushing he was out. This new little person had entered the room, entered our lives.

The rush was beyond anything I’d ever felt. Whatever tearing I was experiencing in my crotch area was magically numb due to the hormones being released. My sweet, purple, slimy baby was placed on my chest and I was overwhelmed with that feeling I’ve only felt once before. I knew his face. I knew his cry. It was so familiar without me having ever seen him or heard him before. I knew him. He cried into my chest for about a minute until he looked up and saw my face. Maybe not saw me as much as heard my voice. He was so aware. All he did was stare up at me trying to figure out this new world.

Marcus James Powell was born 9:26 on January 11^th, 2015. He weighed 7lbs 3.5oz and was 20in tall.

I received what the doctor referred to as ‘side wall tearing’ though I had no perineal tears. Soon after Marcus was born I was walking to our recovery room. Walking! I was so relieved! The pain I had, though not comfortable, was a blessing compared to the c-section pain I experienced a year ago. I was amazed at how comfortable I felt. I could take a shower if I wanted. I could go to the bathroom without feeling like my insides were falling out. Even now, I’m overwhelmed with how wonderful recovery was. I could pick up my baby. What a blessing! I could care for him all on my own without agonizing pain! I could pick up Ellie and cuddle her. I could walk around the block! I could keep going, but I won’t. This whole experience was so healing for me. I kept wishing I had had it with Ellie but it made me appreciate her more as well. Even though the process of labor was the most challenging thing I’d ever experienced, I was so full of happiness. I was so full of joy! I look at my two babies now and wish I hadn’t felt so much fear. Things have been challenging, of course, but I am so proud to have these two babies in my life. I am proud of myself. Proud of my husband. Proud of my kids. I’m so in love with my family and so lucky to have the opportunity to go through these hard and wonderful things.

I want to post pictures but for now, I hope you’ll all be satisfied with the birth story.

Mom Mondays

Hey guys, here we are again.

Today I'm just going to do a quick update on Ellie and myself. She just gets cuter and cuter every day, I swear. She's currently reaching and grabbing for things which, as a new parent, I geek out about every time. Ryan and I swear she's the smartest kid ever born :) 

She's SO close to giggling but being tickled is a little overwhelming right now She'll do a weird cough laugh and then start crying like it's too much. I'm such a mean mom haha

Anyway, she's making lots of cute noises and big smiles. She loves her piano playmat and crinkle sounds captivate her. 

#thuglife

I'm doing pretty good as well. I've been thinking a lot about how the media portrays parenthood. It's not always bad but more often than not they make it seem like you're losing more than you're gaining. I can't lie and say that there aren't things I miss about not having a kid but I would also be lying if I said I wanted I go back. Elliana is so amazing guys. Sometimes I feel like I'm going to burst with how much I love her. I am always thinking about how I can make her life better, how I can protect her, how I can give her what she needs. I am sad the world tells us that you'll hate your children. I may not always like my child, but I will always love her. Even in the midst of the crying and the tiredness it's not this horrible bleak picture. Being a parent is something I'm proud of and it gets better every day. 

From three weeks to three months. The most wonderful, difficult, spiritual, frustrating, beautiful, scary, and awe inspiring three months of my life. 

Happy Mom Monday. And listen, don't be afraid to have babies.

Fail Friday!

Today's fail Friday consisted of me essentially using this post as an excuse to fail. I'll admit it. That's what fail Friday is all about. 

I failed with two orders of mini cookies from Jack in the Box. I ate them all and it was delicious. And now I have a headache. 

To my credit, I only got two orders instead of four. So basically if I was a murderer trying to get over my murdering I would be saying, "Guys, great news. I only killed TWO people today instead of FOUR like I originally wanted to kill. Progress!!"

Yep. We're comparing mini cookies to the great sin of murder. 

So what do we learn from fail Friday? Well firstly, avoid Jack in the Box. Second, make a plan of action for when I know I'm going to be around places to buy unhealthy foods. And third, don't use fail Friday as an excuse to fail. 

And the most important lesson of all? I'm not a failure. Cookies don't actually kill people (except for maybe my heart slowly over time) and I am not a "bad" person. I'm still worthy of love and capable of a great many things. Health, after all, doesn't just include taking care of your body. It means taking care of yourself emotionally and spiritually as well. So don't worry about the small stuff. 

And THATS what fail Friday is all about. 

Fat People Heaven

Day one. Interesting day. Tough day. But it always is. 

I went grocery shopping. At Sams Club no less. They have these chocolate covered almonds there that make getting fatter sublime. It was seriously tempting walking down the isles. Luckily I survived. At the end of my trip I bought a single rice crispy treat instead of the pink frosting sugar cookies I actually wanted to buy. Is it just me or is heaven going to be lined with those cookies? Uggggg, they're so goooood.

So you can tell I'm in the beginning stages of insanity. A part of my heart still really wants to eat all the food but I feel confident that I can survive. Speaking of which this is the deliciousness I had this morning.

Super yummy instant oatmeal mixed with a half an apple, chopped almonds, and a little almond milk. It was a little higher in calories but it was so delicious. I'm still nursing so I don't feel bad about eating extra calories. Especially if they're not empty ones. Want to see another piece of wonderful that I enjoyed this morning?

How cute is that? She's too adorable  and getting big far too fast :)

Anyway I wasn't able to get out for my first run due to the rain but I am pretty excited/nervouss. Nercited. Excitivous. Whatever. Hopefully my body isn't too mashed up from the c-section. Sometimes if I hold baby for too long my upper back hurts. I'm assuming that it's because my core is in such bad shape from being pregnant and all. I just hope it won't be too hard on my body. My plan is to do some strength training on the side so I'll keep you updated once I figure out how to do that.

One thing I am happy about? Yogurt. After a whole day of not eating candy (and three whole months of indulging far too much) a spoonful of yogurt tasted like the sweetest nectar. It was even yummier than the rice crispy treat. 

You know, I'm a lot prettier than I give myself credit for. And even though I'm not as healthy as I would like to be I still feel like I'm not living my life in a pit of candy bars and cookies. That being said, if I didn't want to run a marathon or set a good example for my kid then I could be so content getting fat. I want a brownie cookie sandwich with ice cream and caramel on top. I want frosting to come out of drinking fountains. I want chocolate covered everything. And then I want to die and go to fat people heaven where we all drink soda and eat pie. Cherry pie....with ice cream....

Do you guys see how stressed I am? This is what I like to call, "a problem". Luckily, exercise and eating right is proven to be so much more helpful when dealing with stress than cookie brownie sandwiches.

Failure and Failing

"There's always tomorrow," I thought as I shoved a tenth vanilla Oreo in my mouth. I plucked my diet Pepsi out if the fridge and headed for the couch all the while knowing that my only motivation to get up any time soon would be to get another Oreo. 

Obviously, I was stressed. Who wouldn't be? A new baby, Ryan's new job, the loss of a car, new bills, and a semi broken dog. 

The only thing that makes it better is baby. She, coincidentally, is also the thing that causes more stress. Never have I felt such a war of emotions. Sometimes I just need a break from being needed. But the minute I step out the door, I miss her. 

I've decided that being a mom is a 24/7 job, where you're always on call, and your boss yells at you a lot. Of course, the upside is that your boss is a really tiny cute version of yourself or your partner, so that's nice 

In all reality, I can't even describe how much I love my kid. Things seem challenging at times, but there's no place I'd rather be. Going places isn't the same unless she's there to share it with. And I know she doesn't really know what's going on, but it doesn't matter. She's my family. My whole world. 

So, having said that, I kind of want to address something. I feel that with having a baby you gain so much. But amidst all the wonderful heavenly blessings there is also a great deal of  loss. 

It hit me tonight like a ton of bricks. This is my life. It's not necessarily a bad life. But you really don't get to transition into motherhood. The minute this new person enters your life you are needed. Needed in a way that no other person can really fulfill. It's overwhelming. Maybe even debilitating. For all your kid knows, you're the best mom in the world, but to your overworked and overtired brain, you feel you're floundering to keep up. 

It's been almost three months since I first held my baby in my arms. I've learned so much about my own life, specifically about failure. I've always believed that failing doesn't make you a failure. It doesn't mean you've "failed". As long as you clear the dust and the darkness from your mind and keep going, you haven't yet failed. Failure is a grave we dig ourselves by giving up and shutting down. You have only failed when you stop believing you're capable of change. 

So what, you might ask, does all this fluffy positivity have to do with me? Well, I'll tell you. 

I still have dreams. For some reason I thought they would alter when I had my baby but they didn't. They've been squatting in my heart like a tenant that won't move out. I still want to run a marathon. I want to make this whole blogging thing something more than just an update for my family. I want to be able to influence people. I think I have that potential even with all my stupid opinions and awkwardness.

In an attempt to finally reach my goals that I've had for years I am, once again, inviting you to join me in my quest. We'll be taking apart the pieces and putting them back together! We'll be stripping it down and putting it back up! We'll be wrecking it and fixing it! 

I have no idea what I'm saying anymore. ANYWAY, today, my friends, is the beginning of the end....of the first beginning. 

Ok, I'm done. JOIN ME...on this crazy train to a healthier-

Ok, seriously? Why can't I end this without it sounding cheesy? 

I hope you read my blog cause it's gonna kick some asses. 

Does the profanity help? I feel weird about the plural spelling of ass. For some reason I feel like it should be "ass's" but that's DEFINITELY not right. Cause that means that the ass owns something? Cause it's the ownership with the apostrophe..thingy? 

We've turned down a road and I don't know how we got here. Alright, u-turn, 5 miles later:

I hope if anything to inspire someone. Help someone. After all, we're all together in this war of overcoming and conquering ourselves. So gear up! And watch me conquer on the battlefield. 

...so cheesy. 

Till next time. 

Birth Story

Hey all! So it's taken me a while to post this. I wrote it about three weeks after my beautiful Ellie was born. There was a part of me that felt like this story was too sacred to me to share over the Internet. Then I read it again and realized how much I've learned and how much I want to share with all of you. I feel like each week I learn more and morph into this new person I never knew I could become. I feel so overwhelmed by what a blessing my baby is. A strange and wonderful blessing and challenge all rolled into one. Tomorrow is her blessing day and with all the hopes and dreams I have for her brewing on the horizon I am overwhelmed by how much I love her for exactly the way she is. She is God's wonderful child entrusted to me and I can't imagine anything more perfect. 

So in honor of her blessing day, enjoy the story of Elliana's birth: 

November 15th 2013 everything changed. It was a crazy, crazy day and it's been just a whirlwind of emotions since then. It's hard to describe all the feelings of terror and joy that I have experienced these past two plus weeks. I'm going to do my best to give you a snap shot of Ellie's birthday. The whole experience was nothing that I thought it would be. Worse in some ways, and celestial in others. So, let me start at the beginning. 

At around 9:30 pm November 14th I started having semi-consistent contractions. I wasn't reading too much into it because I was sure she was going to wait forever. Ryan, however, got really excited. As they got stronger I became more of a believer. I sent him to bed I did some laboring on my own. Around 1:00 am I woke him up and told him to start getting ready. We headed off to the hospital with all our junk in the car. Modest Mouse, World at Large came on and for some reason it really calmed me down. I will always associate that song with that night. That awesome, depressing song. 

Moving on, we arrived at the hospital. I asked to get a wheel chair as the contractions were getting worse to which the nurse replied, "Walking is better!" Um, how about I punch you in the throat? Hmm? She was right, of course, but keep your judgmental mouth closed.

Oh yeah, I'm giving you every nitty gritty detail. So strap in kids. 

They put me in one of their rooms to try and started doing tests. My contractions were weird. They were sometimes 3 minutes apart, sometimes 8 minutes apart. The nurse checked me and I was still dilated to 1 cm. What? 1 cm? I was so disappointed! My pain had really picked up by now so she made us a deal. If I was dilated to a 2 by the end of the hour we could stay. I struggled through more weirdly spaced contractions for an hour and when she checked me there was still no progress. Little did I know, that would be the theme of the night. She was about to call the doctor to send me home with pain medication when there was a sudden dip in my baby's heart rate. She said we would have to stay for another hour to make sure baby was okay. Honestly, even though I was worried for my baby, I was so grateful that we got to stay. I was devastated at the thought of going home in that much pain. 

At around 4 AM I suddenly understood. I FINALLY understood how hard it is to deal with contractions. Honestly, they felt like period pains which I wasn't expecting for some reason. I've had several women tell me that's what they felt like but for some weird reason I expected it to be different. And the pain isn't really what got to me. Contractions are all a mind game because one minute you're doubled over, and the next you're laughing at a joke someone told. Once things picked up a little though, I was so exhausted that there didn't seem to be any relief during the breaks. Another thing I didn't expect was to feel sick like I do when I'm on my period. And not throw up sick. Poopy sick. It was not pleasant. 

5:30 I got a new nurse which I was super happy about. She finally treated me like I wasn't another crazy pregnant lady who 'thought' she was in labor. She kindly admitted us to a delivery room and gave me some temporary pain meds while we monitored baby. An hour later the Doctor came in and checked me. I was finally dilated to a 2 but that wasn't enough still. She said the only way she would keep me was if I went on pitocin to speed things up. Now, if you read my birth plan, I did NOT want pitocin. I was so afraid that it would lead to a c-section so I immediately told her that I wasn't interested. 

"Then I don't know if we can keep you." She said. 

My new nurse, who I will forever love, stood up for me saying, "She's obviously in labor, there's no reason to send her home." 

The doctor, unprofessionally snapped at the nurse about how I needed to speed things up. Reluctantly, she decided to keep me for another hour to see where I was at. I quietly thanked the nurse for speaking up after the doctor left the room.. Luckily there was another doctor coming on duty at the end of the hour so we didn't have to deal with that piece of crap lady any more. 

Around 7 we got another nurse who decided to check and see if my water had broken. I had felt very small trickles all day but nobody really believed that anything had happened. They have this small green piece of paper that they swipe down in your bidniss (it's a word. look it up) and it detects whether or not you're leaking amniotic fluid. I had had at least three tests that day and all were negative so finally my new nurse pulled out the big guns. It was a super painful test that made me want to punch faces in but it indeed confirmed that my water had broken. YAY! That meant that I HAD to be admitted no matter what.

Unfortunately, when my new doctor came in, she said I was still at a 2. I started walking the hospital again. I even got in a bath which was amazing. It helped with the pain so much. I really did not want to be put on pitocin. My goal was to labor until I was at 5 or 6 centimeters and then get an epidural. 

Another hour or so passed and the nurse checked me. We waited for her response our fingers crossed. 

I was only at a 3. 

Disappointment flooded me again. I had labored on my own for 15 hours with such little progress. The monotony of the pain started to play with my mind. I couldn't imagine laboring for longer without some kind of help. So I finally consented and got an epidural. I really tried hard, guys. I did everything I could to avoid getting an epidural so early. 

I will say though, the epidural felt SUBLIME. I was so terrified to get it, with good reason of course, but the only thing that sucked was the shot they give you to numb the area. It was so painful. It felt like someone lit my back on fire. It didn't last long, but it was enough. 

A couple hours later the doctor came in and checked me again. She said I was still at a 3 and even that was pushing it. I decided to go on pitocin since I really couldn't do anything myself to speed up labor anymore being stuck in the hospital bed. And with the epidural, I couldn't feel anything anyway. Honestly, it had been such a long labor with such little progress that I couldn't think of anything else to do. 

A few hours later on pitocin I still had not progressed. At all. Nothing. Zip. Zilch. The doctor said it might be that my pelvis wasn't big enough for the baby and she recommended a c-section. I immediately got defensive. 

"My body can do this. Just give me more time." 

One more hour passed. Still no progress. Getting a c-section seemed inevitable. I was crushed. So far, every single thing I wanted to avoid during labor had happened. I had also watched a c-section on youtube and I was terrified. Absolutely, and completely mortified. Once I finally consented to a c-section, Ryan helped console me. He helped me realize that everything was going to be ok. Baby was going to be here soon and if we didn't get to her, she might not survive. 

Ryan was amazing by the way. He was my rock. Going into labor, I knew how hard it would probably be for him to see me in so much pain. Its never easy to watch those you love suffer. But he handled it like a champ. He was so supportive of every decision and helped me see the light at the end of every dark tunnel we hit that day. He was absolutely perfect. Held my hand, made me feel strong, helped me keep perspective. Amazing. 

Once I consented to the c-section everything happened so quickly. Her heart rate took another dip and I was raced into the surgery room. They started pumping me full of more pain meds and other drugs. The anesthesiologist was awesome. He kept me updated on everything that was happening. I was still terrified and probably would be if I had to do it again. I felt everything that was happening. There was no pain, of course, but I knew that they were cutting into me. I felt when they pulled her out of me. 

When I heard her cry I started to cry and all the fear washed away. I turned to Ryan with tears in my eyes and said, "I know that voice!"

He got the first view of her little body and we shared a tearful laugh as he said, "She's got your feet!" (I've got really flexible toes with lots of gaps) 

She was placed on my chest and I was amazed at how beautiful she was. I don't know why it was so amazing to me. I just couldn't believe how stunning and GORGEOUS she was. She had a little bit of a cone head and the doctors informed us that she had had the chord wrapped around her neck twice. She was trying so hard to come but just couldn't get any further. I finally felt better about having a c-section. Even though it was just the absolute worst case scenario in my mind, it needed to happen. Who knows what would have happened if I had been stubborn and labored for longer. 

Anyway, the nurse helped me breastfeed and after about a half hour or so, they took her and gave her a bath. She absolutely hated the bath. Still hates baths, although I have a theory that it's because our house is so cold. Poor kid. 

Recovery was scary. I was in so much pain after my epidural wore off. Every movement felt like fire even with the heavy painkillers they were giving me. The first time I went to the bathroom was horrendous. The nurse had to help me do basically everything and it was as if my body had forgotten how to pee. They also kept pushing me to get up and walk around. I could barely get out of bed, let alone walk around the stupid hospital. I remember the first time Ryan helped walk me around the halls. I got back to my bed and thought, "How the hell am I going to be able to take care of a baby on my own?" 

Well luckily I had a lot of help. Ryan was there, Cindy was there, and my mom even came out for a few days. I was never on my own for that first week or so of her life which I was so grateful for. Each day it got better. It's still sore now but I can definitely do it all on my own. I have to be careful how I get out of bed or how I pick something up, but for the most part I feel pretty confident that I can take care of my kid. It's been a slow process and I still have to be patient. My body is adjusting to everything. I must say, even with my scar (which isn't bad at all), and my stretch marks, I feel like I look fantastic. It must be the whole lack of a giant belly thing. I'm 186 lbs which is definitely not ideal, but I don't even care. 186 lbs never looked better on me. See? 

2 Weeks Postpartum 

So now that baby and I have been on our own for a little bit now I've complied two lists. A list of things I love about taking care of a newborn and a list of things I'd rather do without. So here's the bad first. 

10 Things I'd Rather Do Without

*disclaimer* None of these mean I don't love my baby. 

*disclaimer #2* Sorry if you're a man and you're reading some of these. 

1. The whole waking up every couple hours thing. Much like contractions, it's a bit of a mind game. I'm afraid of going to sleep because I know that soon I'll have to get up.

2. Napping when she's napping. Uggggggggg...I HATE napping. Also, refer to number 1. 

3. The crying. It doesn't bother so much that she is crying. That's her only way of telling me she needs something. What I hate is when there is literally nothing I can do for her. Makes me feel helpless.

4. Gas pains. This poor kid has all sorts of gas pains. 

5. The fact that apparently the first 6 weeks of life are hell. Everyone talks about newborns being difficult but nobody mentions the whole '3-6 weeks are going to suck big time' thing until AFTER you've had your baby. Thanks for the heads up, moms! You're all a bunch of selfish secret keepers. And, of course, there's nothing you can really do about it. You just have to deal. 

6. Mood swings. Baby blues. I don't really want to go into this. Just know that I hate it.

7. Leaky/sore boobs. I did not realize how much my boobs would leak. For the first week, I felt like a monster. I giant hulking milk monster. Not only that, but breast milk is sticky. Like, soda on the floor of your car sticky. It's just the worst. And the soreness sucks, but for some reason I don't mind it nearly as much as I do the leaky boobs. 

8. Wearing pads again. Here, strap a massive piece of cotton between your legs. It'll feel great! 

9. How much I worry about her. Now, this isn't really something I'd rather do without but it can be terribly debilitating. I'm getting better but for the first week or so of her life sleeping was nearly impossible. I was so afraid she was going to die. I felt like I had to watch her every move so my sleep was very light and when she DID move or make even the slightest sound, I was instantly wide awake and very worried. 

10. Recovery has been really hard on me. Sometimes I wanted to just step out the door and go for a walk or even just be able to pick up my baby without pain. It's better now, but in the beginning I shed many tears about it. 

Okay, here are: 

10 Things I Absolutely Love

1. Her gassy/sleepy smiles. She even giggles in her sleep sometimes. 

2. Breastfeeding. I NEVER thought I would like breastfeeding. I've definitely had some ups and downs with the whole thing but I love it so much. I thought I would feel so weird about it but the minute I started breastfeeding her it just made sense. Of COURSE I'm going to feed my baby. Why wouldn't I? 

3. Her hungry face. I must be the meanest mom because sometimes I will wait to feed her, only for a second or two, just because I love that desperately little face. It's so hilarious. I know, I'm the worst. 

4. When she falls asleep on my chest. Nothing feels better. 

5. The fact that when she's upset, she wants me. Nobody else. 

6. How much closer it's brought Ryan and I. We've had some tough days, but I feel that overall, this whole experience has brought us so close together. My love for him just explodes every day. I just can't believe we made this beautiful individual who we get to screw up in our own special way. 

7. As superficial as it is, I love having a newborn because it means I'm not pregnant anymore. No more heartburn, I can sleep in any position I want (almost), I can hug my husband without turning my belly to the side. My body is my own. I can start jogging again! I can get in a hot tub if I want. It's sublime. 

8. I love the way Ellie and her daddy both fall asleep with their mouths open. 

9. I love how concerned Penny is for the baby. To Penny the baby is still off limits, but she genuinely gets concerned when she starts crying. This morning while I was in the shower, Ellie woke up. She wasn't crying or anything, just awake. Penny went by the door and stood there the whole time. When I got out I said, "Is the baby ok?" She kind of nosed the door trying to check for me. Such a good pup. 

10. I love how much closer to God I've felt. I rely on Him so much. I couldn't do this without His help. Ryan and I have been so blessed lately it's insane. Things aren't easier by any means but I feel all this strength. Sometimes it doesn't come from the Lord or from me. Sometimes the strength comes from others like Ryan, or my sisters, or my two moms, or even a friend. I feel so lucky. I feel gratitude so much more. As hard as things are, I've never felt better. 

Anyway, I'll close things up for now. Baby is awake again and dad is home. I hope this brought you all some joy or even some insight into what it's like to have a newborn. If you are a new mom or about to be a new mom please don't hesitate to email or contact me. This isn't easy and even if I can't help, sometimes it's nice to know you're not alone. Also, for any of you veteran moms, any tips on how you survived the first 6 weeks would be awesome. 

You guys want some pictures?

First night with my baby cakes

Cuddles with dad

Cuddles with mom

Some of the first sleepy smiles 

Wide awake!

Thanksgiving Day 

Getting our Christmas tree

Silly morning faces 

Big smiles at only 3 weeks 

My sweetie at 5 weeks 

These were taken with my new camera I got for Christmas. So happy to have high quality pictures to capture my cute kid.

Sweet heart

Nothing more important to me. 

I hope you enjoyed the blog today :)

Sad Distractions

39 weeks. Each day it becomes more and more real that soon I'll be meeting my baby girl. I thought I was going to be SOOOO patient but as each hour passes Ryan and I continually look at each other and say, "She could come at ANY minute."

Of course, I really haven't had many signs that that will happen any time soon. I've had no significant contractions, just these little baby Braxton hicks here and there. I went to the doctor two days ago and she let me know I was at 1 cm and 60% effaced, but hey, that's something! Of course, I'm being more positive on my blog but close friends and family know how impatient I've been lately. My impatience divides among three different things: my excitement to see Elliana, my anxiousness to get labor over and done with, and my desire to get my body back. The doctor said that if things still haven't progressed by my due date, she'll sweep my membranes which I'm not entirely sure I want her doing. If baby is ready, then she'll come. As much as I hate to say it, I can live with waiting for baby to make the first move. In the meantime, Ryan and I are saying lots of prayers that she comes soon so that I don't have to be induced.

Despite our anxiousness to get baby here, we've had some recent catastrophes that have helped distract us. Poor Penny has been through some rough times lately. If you're my Facebook friend you're probably tired of me posting stuff about her but if you're not, here's what has happened.

The Friday before Halloween, Ryan and I went to go get pumpkins. We normally leave the window down for Penny to look out of and this car ride was no exception. We took a left turn a bit hard and Penny, alarmed by the sharp move, went with the momentum and hopped out the window. I screamed bloody murder as I watched the car behind us nearly run her over (I thought they HAD run her over at first). Terrified, she began to take off down the sidewalk with a busy road just a couple feet away. I hopped out of the car, pregnant belly and all, and began to chase her. I was so sure that in a matter of seconds she was going to veer into traffic and be killed. Luckily, she peeled off away form traffic and into a large forested area. Ryan ran past me and told me to get back to the car as we had left it in the middle of the lane. Everyone that passed was incredibly nice, probably because they saw the whole scene take place. The guy behind us, who I thought might have nicked her, stopped and helped us look for awhile. He also assured me that he didn't feel his car hit her, but I was jumping to the worst conclusions. Of course, even if he had, it wouldn't have been his fault. If anything I blamed myself that night because several times I had had the thought that we needed to roll the window up more. Guilt aside, we couldn't find her for at least an hour. It was getting dark and in my current pregnant state I was feeling rather useless. Ryan met back up with me and I sobbed as we went to pick up flashlights from a friends house. We got back to where we thought she might be and Ryan was finally able to find her. She was at the bottom of a hill and she was having a hard time moving her right front paw. We all got in the car and rushed down to the Emergency Vet. They assessed her and told us it was nothing but a sprain. We were so relieved and felt that so many prayers had been answered. She got a cute pink cast, a couple of pain killers and all seemed well.

Fast forward to yesterday.

Ryan and I finally removed the cast upon vets orders. Underneath, just above her wrist there were two giant gaping holes. Shock! What had happened? We were sure that there had been no cuts the night we took her to the Emergency Vet. And these cuts were deep! We took her to the vet who said that the cuts ran down to the muscle and were infected. He believes that they might have been injection points for the sedative that was given to her when her cast was originally wrapped. Was it a bad needle, perhaps? Maybe her skin just did not react well with the sedative. Either way, we're still reeling from everything that has happened. The vet also said that her wrist was not yet fully healed. So we left her there for a few hours to get stitched up and another cast and we waited. We picked her up later that afternoon to this sad little face and 12 stitches.

It's been a rough couple of weeks for all of us, especially Penny. We laughed and teased when she had on her pink cast, but now it hurts me to see her like this. This is the first time she's ever had any issues medically. I doubt she's ever going to feel safe in the car again if all these car rides end up being vet visits. Despite my sadness, she really has been a trooper. We're giving her lots of love, treats, and prayers. Healing is hard, but we feel like it was a blessing we found the cuts when we did. Who knows how much worse they would have gotten if we hadn't taken off her cast? Makes me ill to think about it. The only other issue we have now is how we're going to balance her and baby when she comes. I'm sure it'll be fine, especially since we already have people willing to help. In the meantime, can you guys pray for her? She needs some extra blessings. Please and thank you!

In happier news, we have a crib! A beautiful, on sale, and discounted crib courtesy of my wonderful parents!

It feels so nice to have a place for her when she comes now. She might not be sleeping there for the first week or two but I'm so glad we have a crib now! It makes things more real somehow. Not only that, but I LOVE it. It's just beautiful.

Ok, since I've been a little emotionally drained I'm just going to end it all here.

Week 39

Weight gain: 30. I don't even care any more. Plus, this is still pretty healthy weight gain.

Cravings: I've really wanted soda. Not just any soda. Dr. Pepper. I've barely had any caffeine at all while I've been pregnant but Dr. Pepper just sounds amazing. In addition to that, all I want is cookies. Sugar cookies, chocolate chip cookies, oreos. All of it. But I'm pretty sure that's because I'm stressed and NOT because of the pregnancy. I know my stress foods and cookies are definitely it.

Progress: Like I said earlier I'm 1 cm and 60% effaced. The Doctor also mentioned that she's dropped a bit more which makes sense because I've been feeling this insane amount of pelvic pressure and pain. It's mostly lightning, sharp pain like she's using a knife to dig her way out. Pleasant, no? I've also had a lot of back pain. Sciatic pain to be exact. It's not super new or awful since I've dealt with it before, but it's worth mentioning. The last thing I wanted to mention was that baby is just a tad posterior meaning her face isn't quite facing my spine. If you're new to baby stuff, babies deliver more easily when they are head down and facing your spine. If they are facing your tummy then you'll most likely have awful back labor and your baby will be delivered 'sunny side up'. It's not a huge deal since she's still in a good position but it might be the reason for my back pain. According to my doctor and my own personal experience with her, baby is facing my right side. I still feel little jabs on my right side from her little fists and I get little kicks in my ribs but only on the right side. Hopefully, she'll make the move before she delivers. There are exercises I can do but I think I need a birthing ball and unfortunately I don't have one. Other than all those things, progress is slow going. By the way, if any of you expecting mom's out there have babies that aren't in the optimal position try checking out this website on how to get your baby to turn. It's not completely fool proof but better to try than be forced to have a c-section, am I right?

Emotional: As I said above, I'm emotionally drained. Not just from Penny, but every twinge or pain makes me question whether or not baby is coming. Most people I've talked to and most stories I've read assure me that when I have a real contraction I'll know it. So I'm just going to forget about it and relax till I can say, "Whoa, that's new."