Labor, Delivery, and Beyond!

As many of you know, I recently gave birth to my sweet six week old baby girl Lily. For those of you that didn't know, well, now you do. I figured it was about time that I posted about my experience with labor and delivery, for anyone who may be interested in hearing my story.

Let's go back to the day my mom, the ever wonderful and fabulous, Christine Matthews arrived in town with my adorable little brother John in tow. She arrived on the 25th of September, a Wednesday, which was two days after my due date, and I still hadn't delivered. I was starting to get worried, as well as increasingly uncomfortable. My thought process was as follows, "what if the baby doesn't come while my mom is here?! I want my mom to meet her! She's only in town for six days! Come on baby! I really don't want to make it to my Dr's appointment on Friday! I want you out!!!" On top of those worries, my sweet husband was attempting to finish up his finals. In the mean time, my mom, my husband and I were doing everything in our power to get Lily to make her grand entrance. We started out by going to "Scalini's" which is an Italian restaurant that is notorious for sending women into labor with their eggplant parmesan. It had been recommended to me by several other momma's who had had babies. So, off we went to Scalini's with high hopes, and hungry bellies.

After dinner, we sat around and waited to see if anything would happen. It didn't. We had an uneventful night, and went to bed. Thursday morning was also uneventful, as was the afternoon. We waited patiently for my husband to finish with his finals so that we could go on a walk. Once Vincent got done, we all went over to Mud Creek Soccer Complex, and started to walk around their half mile walking trail. Well, during one of the laps, I started to have some contractions. They got to a point where they were any where from two to six minutes apart and pretty painful, so after walking two miles, we decided to head home, hydrate, and keep counting contractions. Disclaimer- I had been having contraction on and off since labor day, and had gone to the hospital the week before with false labor, so we were hopeful, but cautious. After counting contractions for several hours, I was getting hungry and had to pee. Yes, that is important to the story. I got up, had a snack, used the restroom, and shortly there after, my contractions stopped. Done. Gone. Like nothing had ever happened. We all went to bed, a little disappointed, but hopeful about the next day.

Friday morning came, and we went back to Mud Creek Soccer Complex to walk again. I met my friend there, and we walked a couple of laps together. I was having some contractions on and off, but nothing regular or consistent enough to mean anything. Disappointed again, we went home and got ready for my doctor's appointment. I went in hoping to hear some good news, but to my dismay, there wasn't much change from my previous appointment. The midwife I met with set an induction date for the following Tuesday, stripped my membranes (for the third time), and told me to go have a baby. Seriously? Like I wasn't trying already... The membrane stripping led to some pretty painful contractions. We went to Chick-fil-A for dinner, and I would have to stop and breathe through a contraction every few minutes. These contractions were more consistent, and lasted longer; some of them as long as a minute and half to two minutes! I was in some serious pain! We went home and kept counting contractions, but they started to slow down again. I was pretty tired by this point, having walked so much the past few days and not sleeping much either, but I ventured outside with my husband, in the middle of the night to try to keep the contractions going. It didn't work. Tired and frustrated we all went to bed again. (My mom had been up with us, counting contractions).

Saturday morning dawned, and with it came more contractions. They were few and far between, but very painful. I contracted about every time I stood up, which made doing anything very difficult. I was really starting to worry that the pain would never end, and that my poor mom and brother would have to go home with nothing to report. It was very upsetting. Well, I was pretty tired Saturday, so the only exciting thing we did was go grocery shopping, stopping every so often for a contraction. Once we got home, the contractions started to pick up again. With low hopes, and feeling like I would be pregnant forever, we started to count contractions again. This was time was different though. The contractions were painful to the point of tears, so around midnight my mom suggested that we go to the hospital. So we did. We got checked in, and found out that even though I was having really painful contractions, I hadn't progressed at all! I was so mad! I seriously felt like Lily was never coming, and that I would be in pain for the rest of my life! Well, they kept me for two hours to see if things would move along at all, and by the end of the second hour I was still in a lot of pain, but hadn't progressed much. The nurse offered me a shot of Demerol, which I didn't take, and discharged us. I was contracting so badly, that I had to be wheeled out of the hospital in a wheel chair to go home (This was around three in the morning). I had had it. I cried. I was so disappointed, frustrated, and in the worst pain of life that I got down on all fours in front of my house and just balled. How could I be in so much pain and not have it amount to anything! After crawling inside, and crying to my mom, I took some Tylenol pm, like the nurse had suggested, and tried to sleep. 

I couldn't stay asleep. I kept waking up in excruciating pain, and panicking because the Tylenol wasn't even touching the contractions and only made me sleepy. My husband was trying to put pressure on my tailbone to help the pain, but it wasn't helping anymore. I was at my wits end, and trembling in pain. Thank goodness for my mom. She suggested we call the hospital and see if I could still get that shot of Demerol that was originally prescribed, so I called them and they told me, to my dismay, that we would have to re-check in, and go through entire process over again. I was upset, but willing to go just to get some relief. So near six o'clock in the morning, we checked back into the hospital. We went over to triage and I grabbed onto the railing and crouched down to get through a contraction as the nurse asks me, "so what brings you in tonight?" You'd think it would be obvious to these people... It was different nurse than the one who checked me in originally. I told her I was having some really painful contractions, and they got me set up in one of the rooms. The nurse checked me, as I was praying like crazy that I had actually progressed, and told me I was at a five (cm) and having a baby. I couldn't be more relieved! This was it! The big moment we had been waiting for. It was finally here! 

The nurses gave me a little pain medication through my IV that made me very dizzy and wheeled me to a delivery room. After a short time the pain medication wore off, and I decided to go with the epidural. I was against it at first, but after being in pain for so long, it was a welcome relief. After the epidural was in, they checked me again. This part gets a little fuzzy but my husband thinks I was at an eight, so they broke my water and decided to give me a little pitocin to move things along. After finally sleeping for a couple of hours, I felt the need to push. The midwife came in, and after three pushes, my husband was able to help deliver our beautiful baby girl Lily. She was born at 11:48 am, weighing 7 lbs, 1 oz, and measuring 19.5 inches long. We had done it! She was finally here! I couldn't believe it! It was finally over! 

After 24 hours, some birthday cake, and a couple of visitors we were discharged from the hospital. The nurse was concerned about Lily's bilirubin levels. For those who don't know, that is what they look for when determining if a baby has jaundice aside from yellowy skin. Her bilirubin levels were still a little high at her last check up, and we are waiting to see if they have gone down enough this next time. She has a slight cold right now, but hopefully that will clear up in the next day or so. After a nasty encounter with mastitis and a bad case of croup (Nate), we are finally on the mend and trying to get back to some semblance of a routine. 

We love our little Lilybug so much! She is just too precious and sweet for words. She is a pretty good natured baby, but a little more fussy than her big brother was. Nathaniel is a sweet, albeit jealous at times, big brother, who loves to run over and help the baby when she cries, or hug and hold her when he can. Life is sweet my friends. Life is sweet. 

The Terrible Twos

Hello! Its been while since I posted, but I have some thoughts on the early stages of the terrible twos.

Nathaniel has been pushing his limits lately. Those of you with children toddler age, or older will understand what this means. It is beyond frustrating! The worst part? He knows that what he's doing is wrong, and still goes off to do it, with a devious little grin on his face, staring right at me, as I am telling him no, and threatening time out through gritted teeth. Has anyone else ever felt like they were going to have an aneurysm or a heart attack when this happens? It makes me so crazy! In the words of a friend I was talking to recently, "its a good thing he's so cute..." Its a VERY good thing that Nathan is so cute and that I love him so much...

Another hard part about the terrible twos is the timing! I mean really Nathan. Did you have to start pushing your limits right now?! I am nine months pregnant, and just don't have the energy to fight with you, and chase you around. Its too bad telling you no from across the room doesn't really seem to work...

Long story short? The terrible twos are just plain terrible. Its a constant game and its exhausting work, both mentally and physically. I pray for patience with my son on a regular basis. Nathan is not always pushing his limits, and often gives hugs, kisses, high fives, fist pumps, and giggles. Those are the moments I hold out for.

I am Momma! Hear me Roar!!!

I have come the realization that Momma's are some of the toughest fighters out there. We fight for many different reasons but something always brings us back to these simple truths. We are fighting for our families and children. Against impossible odds, we stand together, bringing our children close. We are strong. We are strong enough.

Sister Julie B. Beck (former Relief Society General President) said it this way, "The responsibility mothers have today has never required more vigilance. More than at any time in the history of the world, we need mothers who know. Children are being born into a world where they “wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places” (Ephesians 6:12). However, mothers need not fear. When mothers know who they are and who God is and have made covenants with Him, they will have great power and influence for good on their children."

In an ever darkening world, it has become necessary not only to fight for what we believe to be right, but to fight to keep the very fabric of our families from ripping apart at the seams. Satan would have us all believe that what we do as Mommas is not enough, and that in the end, he will win. What do we have to say to this? We say, No! You will not win! You do not have a say in this household. I am Momma! Hear me Roar!!!

"Mothers who know do less. They permit less of what will not bear good fruit eternally. They allow less media in their homes, less distraction, less activity that draws their children away from their home. Mothers who know are willing to live on less and consume less of the world’s goods in order to spend more time with their children—more time eating together, more time working together, more time reading together, more time talking, laughing, singing, and exemplifying. These mothers choose carefully and do not try to choose it all. Their goal is to prepare a rising generation of children who will take the gospel of Jesus Christ into the entire world. Their goal is to prepare future fathers and mothers who will be builders of the Lord’s kingdom for the next 50 years. That is influence; that is power."

You may be fighting to keep your family together, have a relationship with a withdrawn teenager, or simply to have your children get along for more than two minutes at a time, but no matter the reason, remember this: You are a Momma. Every word you say, and every work you do, no matter how small, is noticed! You are the one keeping your family strong in the faith, and standing up against the evil influences that would tear you and your family apart. You are a guardian of virtue.

Sister Julie B. Beck says, "Who will prepare this righteous generation of sons and daughters? Latter-day Saint women will do this—women who know and love the Lord and bear testimony of Him, women who are strong and immovable and who do not give up during difficult and discouraging times. We are led by an inspired prophet of God who has called upon the women of the Church to “stand strong and immovable for that which is correct and proper under the plan of the Lord.” He has asked us to “begin in [our] own homes” to teach children the ways of truth. Latter-day Saint women should be the very best in the world at upholding, nurturing, and protecting families. I have every confidence that our women will do this and will come to be known as mothers who “knew” (Alma 56:48)..."

To all my Momma friends, members of my church or not, you are an inspiration. Your endless strength, your enduring courage, your never ending patience, constant sacrifice and kindness unending inspire me to be a better mother and continue to fight for my own small family. You are lights among darkness. Pillars of strength. Fighters to the bitter end for those you call your own. Thank you for your inspiration. 

(Excerpts were taken from the the April 2007 General Conference talk given by Sister Julie B. Beck entitled, "Mothers Who Know").

Here we go Again

Hey all! Since finding out that I am pregnant again, I have been both nervous, and excited. I have also been very tired, pretty cranky, and down right impatient at times. Being pregnant, while having another child to care for is no picnic!

When I found out I was pregnant with my sweet baby boy Nathaniel, things were different. I only had to worry about me, myself, and I. If I didn't feel well, I could rest. If I was tired, I could take a nap. If I had a headache, again, I could rest. I didn't have any one depending on me, except my husband, who is pretty self-sufficient. This time around, I find myself having to care for not only my self, but for the cutest, sweetest, little boy ever. But lets be honest. No amount of cuteness is going to get rid of that nagging fatigue, that just doesn't go away, or ease your throbbing head.

How, for example, do you communicate to a fourteen month old that he can't run around the house screaming, because Momma's head might simply explode? Or, that no matter how cute and fun it is to play chase, Mommy just doesn't have the energy to keep up? Or my personal favorite, how do I explain to Nathan that I can longer be his jungle gym, because it just plain hurts too much? Sadly, you can't. So, I find myself loosing patience over the most simple, and silly things that are harmless, yet so unbelievably irksome nowadays.

Our conversations go something like this, "Nathan! Do NOT turn your sippy cup upside down, and pour the water out!!! How many times do I have to tell you?!" Nathan replies, with a very innocent look on his face, "Dada?" "No son. Dada is not here. That's it. Time for a nap!" And so, more often than not, my escape is putting him down for a "nap," in other words,"Momma needs a break, and you my child, need to not be in the room so I can calm down. I love you, but right now, you're killin' me smalls..."

And so? More often than not, I am a bit more snappy than I mean to be, or lose patience over silly little things. My escape? Naptime or time outs, with Netflix or Pottermore. Works every time.