Sometimes parenting isn't as glamorous as it may seem. You have bad days. You are dealing with another sinful human. A little one. One whom it is your duty to raise and teach right from wrong and when they're in the wrong, to lovingly correct them and set them right again. Today has been a not so glamorous day. Goober Pie seems to be in a phase where he literally almost hates me. He hates my instruction, he won't listen to it. He sometimes hates me as a person and lashes out, hitting, screaming, kicking, pushing, pulling my hair and scratching me. He hates that my attention is sometimes given to Chickpea, his sister. He hates if my attention is given to my phone. Which I've been staying off of as much as possible the last few days to avoid any attention getters that are not so nice. Not only can he not be nice to me, but he can't be nice to his sister, either. Constantly doing something mean to her. And the dog. And the cat. The only person he's not mean to? His Daddy. Thank God for his Daddy. He keeps him straight. And when I'm at my literal wit's end with Goober Pie, Daddy steps in and saves the day. He can with just a few words make him obey. While I tried all afternoon. It's totally not fair, but it is what it is. I'm constantly praying for me to have patience in dealing with Goober Pie, and for his behavior towards me to change. I also have him pray. I'm praying that this is just a phase. He is teething, and teething tends to make a monster come out of him. I'm also trying to get on his level, and have screen free time spent with him either reading, playing with his toys, or doing something else constructive. Overall my feelings are hurt. What?! By a 2.5 year old. Yep. It's the truth. I want him to want to be nice to me. I want to see that he can behave. I want to see that he can be calm and nice in his home, with his family. Other people tell me that's he's well behaved when he's with them. Why do I get all the brunt of the bad behavior? I'm at my wit's end. Today was hard. Parenting is not glamorous when you're raising depraved children and you yourself are depraved! But I'm going to keep on keeping on, going to keep praying, and keep training up my son in the way he should be brought up according to God's Word. And I'm going to hold on to the tiny shred of hope that one day, he will respect me. He will respect my instruction and teaching. He will show me kindness. He will be the sweet little boy that I know that he can be. And he CAN be sweet. Interspersed in all this crazy behavior, he's giving me hugs, kisses, and telling me that he loves me. He shares with Chickpea, gives her hugs, kisses, and her paci, makes her laugh.
In the end I know that this is just a phase, and that he's never a lost cause and that the endless effort, tears, frustrations & prayers I put into parenting Goober Pie WILL pay off.
Saturday, December 10, 2011
Monday, December 5, 2011
Grandmother
Her eyes open, I watched as she peacefully passed Sunday, September 11, 2011. She was the second Grandparent I've lost. I'm glad I was there. It's hard seeing ones you love die, but so nice knowing (if they are saved by grace) that they are going to the Place where they're meant to be. Heaven. Where they'll sit at the feet of the Heavenly Father worshipping Him all day long. In a perfected body with no pain! I'm glad I was there.
We knew Grandmother was ill. She had been for a couple of months. Then she started acting strange. She took a fall. We were told after tests came back negative that it was just a progression of her Alzheimer's. Then, on Wednesday, the sisters (my Ma & her sisters, my Aunts) took her to the er. Come to find out she had an intestinal blockage. Which she wasn't a candidate for surgery because 1-her mental condition and 2- her advanced directive in her Living Will. You see, she and my Grandfather have made all their medical decisions and decisions about the end of their life already. Their bodies are already willed to the research program at UT Southwestern. They decided this years ago. I greatly admire them for this. I hope to do the same for my family. When the end of life comes, the decisions about how to care for them and whether or not to put them on a feeding tube or have a surgery has been made. And the family can rest well knowing they're following the wishes of their loved one.
They gave her a week to live and she came home on Friday night under the care of Hospice. She hadn't been doing well, in fact she had taken a turn for the worse. Saturday came and she was near the end. So sudden, so soon, so quick. The kids and I were visiting family in Oklahoma with my Mother-in-Law when I got news that my Grandmother would be passing anytime. All were with her but the kids and I, holding hands around her, praying and reading Scripture. We immediately came home and went straight to the apartment. She was sleeping. Never to be woken again. I spent the afternoon and evening at my grandparents apartment. Visiting with family, holding my Grandmother's beautifully manicured hand. Learning all the little details I had missed not being in town. I went home that night & slept. I had to. I couldn't stay up there. I have a baby who needs sleep. I've been gone all week. My husband needed me. My husband, daughter and I went up to my Grandparents apartment the next morning. Again visiting with family. Praying. She was still sleeping. Having bouts of sleep apnea. Then the change came. We were told to come. To be quiet. Her eyes were open. But they saw not. What was she looking at? What did she see? Was it the glorious light of Heaven welcoming her? We watched as she breathed her last. We grieved. After a couple of hours her body was retrieved by the medical personnel from the place where she would go. I remember thinking "This is the last time I'll ever see her!" I Immediately corrected myself; her earthly body, yes. But I'd see her once again. In Heaven. When my time comes I'll see her again! What a comfort! How sweet it is to know she's made whole again in Heaven with her Lord!
The following Tuesday we had a private family memorial service for her.
I will always remember her and love her. She loved books. I used to sit with her in her recliner reading book after book for as long as we both fit. She loved working crossword puzzles. Classical music was always on at her house. She loved her cats. She loved chocolate. She loved staying up late and watching M*A*S*H. She loved birds and bird watching. She loved gardening and flowers. She loved dogs. She loved children. She loved my children. She made funny sounds and faces at them. She kissed our birthday and Christmas cards. She loved the color blue. She loved ballet type slippers. She loved the outdoors. She let us play on her piano & helped teach us songs. Christmas mornings with Breakfast of SOS and dinner with sandwiches. She was a sweet woman. A wonderful Mother and Grandmother who raised 4 beautiful daughters and has 4 granddaughters, 1 grandson, and 7 great grandchildren!
Her legacy is one of beauty.
Patricia Anne Freeman. Born October 10, 19 Died September 11, 2011. Married 61 years to her loving husband, who cared for her all her life. Even when she was on her deathbed he made sure she had enough covers.
Remembered by all with great love!
-Originally written November 26, 2011. I hesitated publishing this because I tend to be a pretty private person, but I think I need to. And you need to read it.
We knew Grandmother was ill. She had been for a couple of months. Then she started acting strange. She took a fall. We were told after tests came back negative that it was just a progression of her Alzheimer's. Then, on Wednesday, the sisters (my Ma & her sisters, my Aunts) took her to the er. Come to find out she had an intestinal blockage. Which she wasn't a candidate for surgery because 1-her mental condition and 2- her advanced directive in her Living Will. You see, she and my Grandfather have made all their medical decisions and decisions about the end of their life already. Their bodies are already willed to the research program at UT Southwestern. They decided this years ago. I greatly admire them for this. I hope to do the same for my family. When the end of life comes, the decisions about how to care for them and whether or not to put them on a feeding tube or have a surgery has been made. And the family can rest well knowing they're following the wishes of their loved one.
They gave her a week to live and she came home on Friday night under the care of Hospice. She hadn't been doing well, in fact she had taken a turn for the worse. Saturday came and she was near the end. So sudden, so soon, so quick. The kids and I were visiting family in Oklahoma with my Mother-in-Law when I got news that my Grandmother would be passing anytime. All were with her but the kids and I, holding hands around her, praying and reading Scripture. We immediately came home and went straight to the apartment. She was sleeping. Never to be woken again. I spent the afternoon and evening at my grandparents apartment. Visiting with family, holding my Grandmother's beautifully manicured hand. Learning all the little details I had missed not being in town. I went home that night & slept. I had to. I couldn't stay up there. I have a baby who needs sleep. I've been gone all week. My husband needed me. My husband, daughter and I went up to my Grandparents apartment the next morning. Again visiting with family. Praying. She was still sleeping. Having bouts of sleep apnea. Then the change came. We were told to come. To be quiet. Her eyes were open. But they saw not. What was she looking at? What did she see? Was it the glorious light of Heaven welcoming her? We watched as she breathed her last. We grieved. After a couple of hours her body was retrieved by the medical personnel from the place where she would go. I remember thinking "This is the last time I'll ever see her!" I Immediately corrected myself; her earthly body, yes. But I'd see her once again. In Heaven. When my time comes I'll see her again! What a comfort! How sweet it is to know she's made whole again in Heaven with her Lord!
The following Tuesday we had a private family memorial service for her.
I will always remember her and love her. She loved books. I used to sit with her in her recliner reading book after book for as long as we both fit. She loved working crossword puzzles. Classical music was always on at her house. She loved her cats. She loved chocolate. She loved staying up late and watching M*A*S*H. She loved birds and bird watching. She loved gardening and flowers. She loved dogs. She loved children. She loved my children. She made funny sounds and faces at them. She kissed our birthday and Christmas cards. She loved the color blue. She loved ballet type slippers. She loved the outdoors. She let us play on her piano & helped teach us songs. Christmas mornings with Breakfast of SOS and dinner with sandwiches. She was a sweet woman. A wonderful Mother and Grandmother who raised 4 beautiful daughters and has 4 granddaughters, 1 grandson, and 7 great grandchildren!
Her legacy is one of beauty.
Patricia Anne Freeman. Born October 10, 19 Died September 11, 2011. Married 61 years to her loving husband, who cared for her all her life. Even when she was on her deathbed he made sure she had enough covers.
Remembered by all with great love!
-Originally written November 26, 2011. I hesitated publishing this because I tend to be a pretty private person, but I think I need to. And you need to read it.
Today
Has not been a good day. At least, most of it hasn't. I feel discouraged, defeated, worthless. All because of a comment made. I'm a simple person. I do not have a great IQ nor do I have a strong mind. I am quite scatter brained and frazzled. I do not communicate well. I stumble over my words. I think too highly if myself but I never live up to those expectations. I am defeated. Broken. But I'm not worthless in the eyes of my Savior. Isn't His the only opinion that really matters? It's His I need to focus on. It's HIM I need to focus on. When I feel defeated and worthless I can count on my Savior to remove my burdens & lift me up. To encourage my feeble & failing mind.
-Originally written November 19, 2011
-Originally written November 19, 2011
Another Love
Cold sheets. I love crawling into bed with the sheets cold & snuggling under the covers with just my nose & eyes peeking out. It means that Fall is here. And I LOVE Fall.
-Originally written October 30, 2011
-Originally written October 30, 2011
The Facts
I have a finger-sucking', blankie-loving son.
I have a paci-loving, needing-to-always-be-held daughter.
Each unique in the way they're comforted.
One common comfort they do share is breastfeeding.
-Originally written October 18, 2011
I have a paci-loving, needing-to-always-be-held daughter.
Each unique in the way they're comforted.
One common comfort they do share is breastfeeding.
-Originally written October 18, 2011
Favorite Sound 2
Another all-time favorite sound?
The sound of the train blowing it's horn on a crisp, cool morning or chilly night. I've heard it my entire life. It's very comforting. Relaxing.
-Originally written October 18, 2011
The sound of the train blowing it's horn on a crisp, cool morning or chilly night. I've heard it my entire life. It's very comforting. Relaxing.
-Originally written October 18, 2011
The Lonely Monster
Lately I've been getting visits. Not the kind of visits with a dear friend that my heart yearns for. No-these visits are from the Lonely Monster. You know, that Lonely Monster? Maybe you don't, but I sure do. I used to have lots of friends, and we hung out all the time. Now I have very few friends, and we're all so busy that we barely see each other. Oh and my really great, truly stick-with-you-through-anything-friends? We talk almost daily. They're my sisters that I just never had.
It makes me sad to be visited by the Lonely Monster. I don't understand why. Like I don't understand why some people say they want to be your friend but they never call or get together with you. (Preaching to the choir here!) Do I take initiative and call them? If they wanted really truly to be my friend wouldn't they make an effort? So do I not call and just whine about it? What have I done wrong to make all these people I long to be friends with not want to be friends with me? Where did this Lonely Monster come from, and why now? What can I do to make him go away?! I need him to go away. Desperately. I'm tired of being lonely. I'm tired of guessing why people don't want to be my friend. It makes no sense to me! Please-what have I done? And it's totally wrong of me to be a tad jealous when other people hang out with the ones I want to be friends with. I'm praying about this. I want and I need God to make me content with where I am in life in regards to friends. I'm tired of this Lonely Monster in my life. Always telling me everyone's too busy or I or my kids aren't good enough for them to be friends with. I need God's peace.
Maybe I have done this to myself? Maybe I've cut myself off? Maybe I don't try hard enough to get together with people I want to be friends with. Maybe I need to put myself out there.
How and where do I go from here?
What makes the Lonely Monster go away for good?
I know I'm good at hiding this. I know I may not seem like a girl that needs friends, but I do.
I'm lonely.
-Originally written September 23, 2011
It makes me sad to be visited by the Lonely Monster. I don't understand why. Like I don't understand why some people say they want to be your friend but they never call or get together with you. (Preaching to the choir here!) Do I take initiative and call them? If they wanted really truly to be my friend wouldn't they make an effort? So do I not call and just whine about it? What have I done wrong to make all these people I long to be friends with not want to be friends with me? Where did this Lonely Monster come from, and why now? What can I do to make him go away?! I need him to go away. Desperately. I'm tired of being lonely. I'm tired of guessing why people don't want to be my friend. It makes no sense to me! Please-what have I done? And it's totally wrong of me to be a tad jealous when other people hang out with the ones I want to be friends with. I'm praying about this. I want and I need God to make me content with where I am in life in regards to friends. I'm tired of this Lonely Monster in my life. Always telling me everyone's too busy or I or my kids aren't good enough for them to be friends with. I need God's peace.
Maybe I have done this to myself? Maybe I've cut myself off? Maybe I don't try hard enough to get together with people I want to be friends with. Maybe I need to put myself out there.
How and where do I go from here?
What makes the Lonely Monster go away for good?
I know I'm good at hiding this. I know I may not seem like a girl that needs friends, but I do.
I'm lonely.
-Originally written September 23, 2011
Saturday, August 20, 2011
Sweet 'N Spicy Sweet Potato Chunks
I made these awesome Sweet Potato Chunks (equivalent to sweet potato fries) the other night with dinner. My hubs wasn't interested in them. I ate them ALL...No, not all in one night, but over the period of about 4 meals...Yeah. They're THAT good!
Bake at 350 for 20 minutes or until the edges start getting crispy and they look done.
EAT. ENJOY.
Sweet 'N Spicy Sweet Potato Chunks
- As many peeled, cubed sweet potato's as you'd like (I used 4 and 1 regular redskin potato, feel free to add as many other potatoes as you wish!)
- Enough Coconut Oil to coat all your potatoes
- Sea Salt
- Fresh Ground Black Pepper
- Couple dashes of Ground Red Cayenne Pepper
- 2 Tbsp Organic Cane Sugar (1 Tbsp when tossing, 1 Tbsp after you lay the potatoes out)
- Toss the potatoes really good to mix up and distribute everything
- Spread on some sort of baking sheet or Stonewear piece
Bake at 350 for 20 minutes or until the edges start getting crispy and they look done.
EAT. ENJOY.
Guest Post
Saturday, July 30, 2011
Deep Belly Laughs
Favorite Sound?
Daddy induced belly laughs from my toddler as they play around.
Daddy induced belly giggles from my sweet little girl as he playfully gobbles her belly up.
Oh, how it really makes my <3 melt.
Daddy induced belly laughs from my toddler as they play around.
Daddy induced belly giggles from my sweet little girl as he playfully gobbles her belly up.
Oh, how it really makes my <3 melt.
Saturday, July 23, 2011
Goober Pie's Birth Day Story
Goober Pie was due on July 4th, 2009.
Contractions started at 4am on Tuesday, June 16, 2009. They were ten minutes apart for four hours. I was trying to sleep and remember tossing and turning and being aware that I was in some sort of pain every ten minutes. Then, it dawned on me...I was having contractions! My husband was up early for work so I excitedly told him what was going on. I had an OB appointment that morning at 10am. He told me to go back to bed and try to get some rest and he'd see me at the OB's where we could check my progress. By 9am, the contractions stopped. Not altogether. I still had maybe one per hour. So I got up, showered, and went along to my OB appointment. My Dr. was out delivering a baby. We waited and waited to see if she was going to make it in, but she never did. So we ended up seeing one of her nurse fill-ins from the hospital. I told her about the contractions and she said she would do a pelvic exam to see if I had made any progress. I'd heard about this great trick to prevent you from feeling discomfort when they check you. I balled my fist up and put it under my hips. The nurse said that was a great idea. IT DIDN'T WORK. I experienced close to the WORST pain EVER IN MY LIFE when I got checked. I was crying, tears streaming down my face. I wanted to scream, but think I refrained. She said I was about 1 centimeter dilated and about 60% effaced. She explained the reason it hurt so bad was that the baby's head was still in front of my cervix, so she had to reach way far back into my vagina to even FIND my cervix. It was not something I wanted to repeat. The nurse told me that labor might have started but probably not and just to go home and when and if contractions started come to the hospital when they were 5-7 minutes apart.
I was seriously bummed I hadn't gotten to see my OB. This was the second appointment in a row that she was delivering babies and I hadn't seen her. See, we loved my OB. She was the nicest, sweetest, most gentle lady. And she fully supported us in our desire to have a natural birth. She was perfect for us.
So, back home I went with strict instructions from my husband to rest. HA. I went home. I did dishes. I ran the dishwasher. I did laundry. And I desperately searched the web and ordered a co-sleeper and other such things we didn't have and I had a feeling we were going to need. Needless to say-I didn't rest. I was still having about a contraction an hour. Nothing major. Maybe two if I was lucky. I was in FULL nesting mode.
And then, like clock work, contractions started coming every 10 minutes at 5pm. We ate dinner. I don't even remember what we had. Something I had cooked in the crock pot... All I remember is eating through the contractions. We watched The Shield. All the while I was contracting every 10 minutes, breathing through them, trying my hardest to relax. We finally decided to go to bed. I think it was around 11pm. We had to get some sleep. I however, found it impossible to sleep as I was contracting every 10 minutes still. So I just contracted. Until around 2:30, when the contractions started getting more and more intense. I was having double peaking contractions, and they were coming around every 7-10 minutes. I woke my husband up and told him what was going on. I asked him to call our OB to see what she wanted us to do. I frantically ran around (if you can frantically run around while having intense contractions...) packing the hospital bag of the few last minute items. All the while having to stop, bend over something, and breathe through the ever intensifying contractions. She told us to go ahead and go to Labor & Delivery at the hospital. So away we went.
The nurse that was checking us in wasn't very pleasant, and when I told her I wasn't due until July 4th, two and a half weeks away, she asked if I was there to get them to stop my labor. I made it very clear that NO, we were NOT there to get my labor stopped. I was admitted and had one more vagina exam, which was just as painful, if not more, than my first one. After being there about for and a half hours, my OB came to see me and since I hadn't made much progress, and told me I could either stay at the hospital and my progress could be monitored, or I could go home. I chose to go home. We were all hungry, so my Mother-in-law stopped at McDonald's and got us breakfast. My Mom had been at the hospital with us during the middle of the night, and she decided to go home and get some rest. My husband had a meeting with his work that morning, so he left to go to it. My Mother-in-law stayed with me as I laid on the couch breathing through the contractions. She was timing them for me-and I was so thankful for that as I was trying to focus on breathing! My husband came home from his meeting and went straight to bed as he was tired from being up all night. I was seriously disappointed, I really wanted him to be there comforting me and helping me labor. I completely understood his desire and great need for sleep though. I decided I wanted to try and take a shower, but was in a position where I needed to be "monitored" since I was in labor. The warm water made the contractions so much more bearable. They made them come faster, too. Every three minutes. My Mother-in-law started freaking out and politely informed me that I needed to wrap up my shower and get out since my contractions were so close together. I grudgingly agreed. I liked the warm water. It made the contractions bearable. But, I got out. Before my shower, my hair was straight. My makeup was done. After my shower, my hair was a mess because I had to get dressed and go straight back to the couch to labor. Oh well. When you've been in labor for over 24 hours you really don't care too much about how perfect your hair is. With the contractions coming closer together, I finally lost my mucus plug. We decided it was then time to head to the hospital, since my contractions were 3-5 minutes apart. I was already having doubts about if I would be able to continue along without an epidural. My husband and I had attended natural birthing classes, the Bradley method, to be exact. We had a birth plan. We wanted a natural birth. If we needed a c section or epidural we decided we would get one. But I was determined not to have an epidural! My husband spoke very reassuring words to me on the way to the hospital. He was very comforting. He also hit EVERY. BUMP. In. The. Road. Or so it seemed to the lady in labor: ME. (We laugh about it today.) Once we got to the hospital they admitted me and I was checked again. I was at a 5 and fully effaced! That gave me the strength to go own and know that I didn't need an epidural! I could have my natural birth! Slowly but surely my family started arriving at the hospital. My Ma, sister and Dad. When my Dad came in the room, he saw me, saw the "pain" I was in, and gave me a hug and kiss and quickly left. He couldn't stand to see his little girl in pain. Once they had a room for me, the nurse asked if I'd like to walk. I said yes, and very slowly, very painfully, walked to my L&D room. I had to stop several times on the way as walking greatly intensified my already intense contractions. I made finally made it! I remember my good friend Jess was there. She was due a mere three months after me and was interested in seeing how I was handling the pain since she wanted to have a natural birth as well. She got to see me handle it. Ha ha. And get up and go to the bathroom while the contractions made that very painful. I didn't ever want to get off the toilet once I was on-but I did. I continued laboring, all day long. My birth team was my husband, Mother-in-law, Ma, and sister. I had intense back labor with every contraction. Try as he might, my dear husband could just not massage my back right when I was in labor. My Ma, having been in my position 20+ years ago, knew EXACTLY where to massage. So, with each contraction, she massaged. Bless her. My husband also held my hand with each contraction I had. He said he thought I was going to break his hand/arm, but he endured the pain for me! My L&D nurse was very impressed with how calmly I was handling my laboring pains not having an epidural. She herself was pregnant. I apparently impressed and inspired a lot of the pregnant L&D nurses to have a natural birth!
I labored from about 10am enduring contraction after contraction and breathing through them like I learned how to do in our Bradley Method birthing classes until delivery. I envisioned myself like a leaf floating down a calm river at times. I listened to my family talk. I labored in the bed, getting up to pee when I needed to. Turning over when I needed to. We waited and waited and waited for my water to break. I reached 9.5 cm in dilation and my water STILL hadn't broken. I was now getting the "need to poop" urge. My body was telling me I was ready to push. But, my OB wasn't there and my water still hadn't broken. So I continued laboring for about 4 hours. It was torture. By the time my OB closed her office across the street from the hospital and came to see me to deliver, I WAS READY. I was ready to have her break my water, I was ready to have my baby, I was SO hungry, I was ready to eat!!! Let's get this show on the road and have this baby!
I was so exhausted from a full 25 hours of laboring that I could not hold my own legs up in the traditional, delivering-on-the-hospital-bed birthing position. My Ma held one leg, my Mother-in-law held the other. My husband helped support my back and shoulders. And so I pushed. I had to learn how. They had to teach me. I barely crowned, but in the moment they saw the top of his head, it was said that he looked like he had blonde hair. Blonde hair? My husband and I both had dark hair, but my Ma is blonde, so, it is possible. My OB started getting her garb on a few minutes before I delivered saying she thought that once he came, he was going to come fast. I pushed for about 45 minutes until out he popped! Literally! I was so excited! I started sobbing. My Ma, MIL, and husband were all sobbing! Kirby Gifford Columbus, born Wednesday, June 17th at 6:42 pm weighing in at 6 lbs. 10 oz. and 20 in. long. He had sucked in some amniotic fluid and was aspirating and having trouble breathing. The nurses were working with him while I was delivering my placenta and being sewn up. I had tore to a third degree. Not the worst kind of tear. But close to it. My husband was quite traumatized seeing my tear and getting me stitched up. I was ok, though, and not in any pain.
After Kirby was cleaned up it was decided that he needed to go up to the NICU since he was breathing so fast. They let everyone come in and see him and me try to breastfeed. He wasn't interested in latching on. I remember the first time I held him. Love at first sight. His big, beautiful, dark blue eyes were staring up at me. He knew me. It was amazing. The rush of happiness, love, joy, and pure elation you experience is hard to put into words! I looked over him, his tiny hands and feet, all 10 fingers and toes there. He had dark hair. And then I stumbled across a body part that had been kicking me for the last few months. It was his knee. It was so cool to know what part of him I had been feeling the past few months!
Off to the NICU they took him, only to have him return a few minutes later! The moment they reached the NICU level, Kirby started breathing normally and he was able to return to us! I was also finally able to eat! I think I had a ham croissant sandwich and chips and I had OJ! OJ is great for replenishing sugars and other things you need after delivery. It's a Bradley Method tradition to have OJ after delivery.
He was whisked off to the nursery for a bath and testing while I was taken to my room. Everyone was hungry so we all had Whataburger. I decided I needed a HUGE chocolate shake and fries. It was so good!
Slowly everyone left, it being after 11pm and all. Kirby was still in the nursery. He was there for FOREVER. Literally, too. We were apart for 5 hours. I was getting to the point of being frantic and wanting my baby. The adorable bundle I had just delivered. I wanted to get to know him. I wanted to breastfeed him again. Once he returned we settled in for the night. My husband went to sleep and I was determined to breastfeed my son! I had been going to La Leche League meetings and knew a lot about breastfeeding. But, putting that into practice was more difficult than I had anticipated. I also was dealing with flat nipples which made it hard for Kirby to latch on. The night nurse I had was fabulous! She came in and helped me figure out how to use a nipple shield, how to get a good latch. She was the reason I was successful at breastfeeding. I owe it all to her!! I stayed up and fed Kirby off and on all night while my husband peacefully slept through it all. We had a productive night full of cluster feedings and cuddles and lots of love and adoring looks shared between Mother and son.
We were in the hospital a total of 3 days because of the tear I had sustained but were finally released to come home on Saturday. It was so good to come home!
I am so thankful and blessed to have had a wonderful natural hospital birth experience. I had the perfect hospital birth. Everyone was so respectful and admiring of our choices. No one gave us grief over our decisions. It was a truly beautiful experience. Bringing a baby into the world is hard work. But it is beautiful. It's what women's bodies were designed and made to do!
Contractions started at 4am on Tuesday, June 16, 2009. They were ten minutes apart for four hours. I was trying to sleep and remember tossing and turning and being aware that I was in some sort of pain every ten minutes. Then, it dawned on me...I was having contractions! My husband was up early for work so I excitedly told him what was going on. I had an OB appointment that morning at 10am. He told me to go back to bed and try to get some rest and he'd see me at the OB's where we could check my progress. By 9am, the contractions stopped. Not altogether. I still had maybe one per hour. So I got up, showered, and went along to my OB appointment. My Dr. was out delivering a baby. We waited and waited to see if she was going to make it in, but she never did. So we ended up seeing one of her nurse fill-ins from the hospital. I told her about the contractions and she said she would do a pelvic exam to see if I had made any progress. I'd heard about this great trick to prevent you from feeling discomfort when they check you. I balled my fist up and put it under my hips. The nurse said that was a great idea. IT DIDN'T WORK. I experienced close to the WORST pain EVER IN MY LIFE when I got checked. I was crying, tears streaming down my face. I wanted to scream, but think I refrained. She said I was about 1 centimeter dilated and about 60% effaced. She explained the reason it hurt so bad was that the baby's head was still in front of my cervix, so she had to reach way far back into my vagina to even FIND my cervix. It was not something I wanted to repeat. The nurse told me that labor might have started but probably not and just to go home and when and if contractions started come to the hospital when they were 5-7 minutes apart.
I was seriously bummed I hadn't gotten to see my OB. This was the second appointment in a row that she was delivering babies and I hadn't seen her. See, we loved my OB. She was the nicest, sweetest, most gentle lady. And she fully supported us in our desire to have a natural birth. She was perfect for us.
So, back home I went with strict instructions from my husband to rest. HA. I went home. I did dishes. I ran the dishwasher. I did laundry. And I desperately searched the web and ordered a co-sleeper and other such things we didn't have and I had a feeling we were going to need. Needless to say-I didn't rest. I was still having about a contraction an hour. Nothing major. Maybe two if I was lucky. I was in FULL nesting mode.
And then, like clock work, contractions started coming every 10 minutes at 5pm. We ate dinner. I don't even remember what we had. Something I had cooked in the crock pot... All I remember is eating through the contractions. We watched The Shield. All the while I was contracting every 10 minutes, breathing through them, trying my hardest to relax. We finally decided to go to bed. I think it was around 11pm. We had to get some sleep. I however, found it impossible to sleep as I was contracting every 10 minutes still. So I just contracted. Until around 2:30, when the contractions started getting more and more intense. I was having double peaking contractions, and they were coming around every 7-10 minutes. I woke my husband up and told him what was going on. I asked him to call our OB to see what she wanted us to do. I frantically ran around (if you can frantically run around while having intense contractions...) packing the hospital bag of the few last minute items. All the while having to stop, bend over something, and breathe through the ever intensifying contractions. She told us to go ahead and go to Labor & Delivery at the hospital. So away we went.
The nurse that was checking us in wasn't very pleasant, and when I told her I wasn't due until July 4th, two and a half weeks away, she asked if I was there to get them to stop my labor. I made it very clear that NO, we were NOT there to get my labor stopped. I was admitted and had one more vagina exam, which was just as painful, if not more, than my first one. After being there about for and a half hours, my OB came to see me and since I hadn't made much progress, and told me I could either stay at the hospital and my progress could be monitored, or I could go home. I chose to go home. We were all hungry, so my Mother-in-law stopped at McDonald's and got us breakfast. My Mom had been at the hospital with us during the middle of the night, and she decided to go home and get some rest. My husband had a meeting with his work that morning, so he left to go to it. My Mother-in-law stayed with me as I laid on the couch breathing through the contractions. She was timing them for me-and I was so thankful for that as I was trying to focus on breathing! My husband came home from his meeting and went straight to bed as he was tired from being up all night. I was seriously disappointed, I really wanted him to be there comforting me and helping me labor. I completely understood his desire and great need for sleep though. I decided I wanted to try and take a shower, but was in a position where I needed to be "monitored" since I was in labor. The warm water made the contractions so much more bearable. They made them come faster, too. Every three minutes. My Mother-in-law started freaking out and politely informed me that I needed to wrap up my shower and get out since my contractions were so close together. I grudgingly agreed. I liked the warm water. It made the contractions bearable. But, I got out. Before my shower, my hair was straight. My makeup was done. After my shower, my hair was a mess because I had to get dressed and go straight back to the couch to labor. Oh well. When you've been in labor for over 24 hours you really don't care too much about how perfect your hair is. With the contractions coming closer together, I finally lost my mucus plug. We decided it was then time to head to the hospital, since my contractions were 3-5 minutes apart. I was already having doubts about if I would be able to continue along without an epidural. My husband and I had attended natural birthing classes, the Bradley method, to be exact. We had a birth plan. We wanted a natural birth. If we needed a c section or epidural we decided we would get one. But I was determined not to have an epidural! My husband spoke very reassuring words to me on the way to the hospital. He was very comforting. He also hit EVERY. BUMP. In. The. Road. Or so it seemed to the lady in labor: ME. (We laugh about it today.) Once we got to the hospital they admitted me and I was checked again. I was at a 5 and fully effaced! That gave me the strength to go own and know that I didn't need an epidural! I could have my natural birth! Slowly but surely my family started arriving at the hospital. My Ma, sister and Dad. When my Dad came in the room, he saw me, saw the "pain" I was in, and gave me a hug and kiss and quickly left. He couldn't stand to see his little girl in pain. Once they had a room for me, the nurse asked if I'd like to walk. I said yes, and very slowly, very painfully, walked to my L&D room. I had to stop several times on the way as walking greatly intensified my already intense contractions. I made finally made it! I remember my good friend Jess was there. She was due a mere three months after me and was interested in seeing how I was handling the pain since she wanted to have a natural birth as well. She got to see me handle it. Ha ha. And get up and go to the bathroom while the contractions made that very painful. I didn't ever want to get off the toilet once I was on-but I did. I continued laboring, all day long. My birth team was my husband, Mother-in-law, Ma, and sister. I had intense back labor with every contraction. Try as he might, my dear husband could just not massage my back right when I was in labor. My Ma, having been in my position 20+ years ago, knew EXACTLY where to massage. So, with each contraction, she massaged. Bless her. My husband also held my hand with each contraction I had. He said he thought I was going to break his hand/arm, but he endured the pain for me! My L&D nurse was very impressed with how calmly I was handling my laboring pains not having an epidural. She herself was pregnant. I apparently impressed and inspired a lot of the pregnant L&D nurses to have a natural birth!
I labored from about 10am enduring contraction after contraction and breathing through them like I learned how to do in our Bradley Method birthing classes until delivery. I envisioned myself like a leaf floating down a calm river at times. I listened to my family talk. I labored in the bed, getting up to pee when I needed to. Turning over when I needed to. We waited and waited and waited for my water to break. I reached 9.5 cm in dilation and my water STILL hadn't broken. I was now getting the "need to poop" urge. My body was telling me I was ready to push. But, my OB wasn't there and my water still hadn't broken. So I continued laboring for about 4 hours. It was torture. By the time my OB closed her office across the street from the hospital and came to see me to deliver, I WAS READY. I was ready to have her break my water, I was ready to have my baby, I was SO hungry, I was ready to eat!!! Let's get this show on the road and have this baby!
I was so exhausted from a full 25 hours of laboring that I could not hold my own legs up in the traditional, delivering-on-the-hospital-bed birthing position. My Ma held one leg, my Mother-in-law held the other. My husband helped support my back and shoulders. And so I pushed. I had to learn how. They had to teach me. I barely crowned, but in the moment they saw the top of his head, it was said that he looked like he had blonde hair. Blonde hair? My husband and I both had dark hair, but my Ma is blonde, so, it is possible. My OB started getting her garb on a few minutes before I delivered saying she thought that once he came, he was going to come fast. I pushed for about 45 minutes until out he popped! Literally! I was so excited! I started sobbing. My Ma, MIL, and husband were all sobbing! Kirby Gifford Columbus, born Wednesday, June 17th at 6:42 pm weighing in at 6 lbs. 10 oz. and 20 in. long. He had sucked in some amniotic fluid and was aspirating and having trouble breathing. The nurses were working with him while I was delivering my placenta and being sewn up. I had tore to a third degree. Not the worst kind of tear. But close to it. My husband was quite traumatized seeing my tear and getting me stitched up. I was ok, though, and not in any pain.
After Kirby was cleaned up it was decided that he needed to go up to the NICU since he was breathing so fast. They let everyone come in and see him and me try to breastfeed. He wasn't interested in latching on. I remember the first time I held him. Love at first sight. His big, beautiful, dark blue eyes were staring up at me. He knew me. It was amazing. The rush of happiness, love, joy, and pure elation you experience is hard to put into words! I looked over him, his tiny hands and feet, all 10 fingers and toes there. He had dark hair. And then I stumbled across a body part that had been kicking me for the last few months. It was his knee. It was so cool to know what part of him I had been feeling the past few months!
Off to the NICU they took him, only to have him return a few minutes later! The moment they reached the NICU level, Kirby started breathing normally and he was able to return to us! I was also finally able to eat! I think I had a ham croissant sandwich and chips and I had OJ! OJ is great for replenishing sugars and other things you need after delivery. It's a Bradley Method tradition to have OJ after delivery.
He was whisked off to the nursery for a bath and testing while I was taken to my room. Everyone was hungry so we all had Whataburger. I decided I needed a HUGE chocolate shake and fries. It was so good!
Slowly everyone left, it being after 11pm and all. Kirby was still in the nursery. He was there for FOREVER. Literally, too. We were apart for 5 hours. I was getting to the point of being frantic and wanting my baby. The adorable bundle I had just delivered. I wanted to get to know him. I wanted to breastfeed him again. Once he returned we settled in for the night. My husband went to sleep and I was determined to breastfeed my son! I had been going to La Leche League meetings and knew a lot about breastfeeding. But, putting that into practice was more difficult than I had anticipated. I also was dealing with flat nipples which made it hard for Kirby to latch on. The night nurse I had was fabulous! She came in and helped me figure out how to use a nipple shield, how to get a good latch. She was the reason I was successful at breastfeeding. I owe it all to her!! I stayed up and fed Kirby off and on all night while my husband peacefully slept through it all. We had a productive night full of cluster feedings and cuddles and lots of love and adoring looks shared between Mother and son.
We were in the hospital a total of 3 days because of the tear I had sustained but were finally released to come home on Saturday. It was so good to come home!
I am so thankful and blessed to have had a wonderful natural hospital birth experience. I had the perfect hospital birth. Everyone was so respectful and admiring of our choices. No one gave us grief over our decisions. It was a truly beautiful experience. Bringing a baby into the world is hard work. But it is beautiful. It's what women's bodies were designed and made to do!
Saturday, February 26, 2011
A Day Later
This is me. At 37 weeks pregnant. I am now one day later in my pregnancy with Chickpea than I was with Goober Pie. When will she come? Only time will tell... But I'm ready to meet her!
Shower of Blessings
Baby showers.
We've all been to them. They are fun. Games are played. Gifts are given. The Mama-to-be is honored, doted upon, and spoiled.
Today I was the Mama-to-be. The wonderfully sweet ladies of my church honored me with a baby shower for Chickpea. It was the best baby shower I've ever been to! When we walked in the door, the dining room was all set up with fine china, napkins folded like cloth diapers. The living room was swarming with busy helpers. There were decorations, pink and girly up. There was a clothesline with money pinned all around. The kitchen held ladies busy prepping food. Someone shouted "Guests are starting to arrive!" In the next hour couches were sat upon and visiting was happening. Then, a prayer and meal. Chickpea's first tea party. China tea sets at every place. A beautiful cabinet all arranged with tea. Fluffy pink punch. Food. Quiches, fruit, homemade, divine and beautifully decorated cupcakes. Chocolate covered strawberries. Veggie tray. YUM.
After a delicious meal, the games ensued. They were delightfully played, and fun was had by everyone! Then, on to presents. Each one, a blessing. Each one meeting a need. Each one specifically and specially picked out just for Chickpea.
What a blessed time with special people. Each woman, girl and child there was so appreciated. Each showing their love and support for my growing family.
I have never felt more special or blessed than I did today. It was so humbling! I can't wait to share this treasure, this blessing, with other Mama-to-be's in the future!
A baby shower.
Truly a blessing. Showered upon ME. =0)
We've all been to them. They are fun. Games are played. Gifts are given. The Mama-to-be is honored, doted upon, and spoiled.
Today I was the Mama-to-be. The wonderfully sweet ladies of my church honored me with a baby shower for Chickpea. It was the best baby shower I've ever been to! When we walked in the door, the dining room was all set up with fine china, napkins folded like cloth diapers. The living room was swarming with busy helpers. There were decorations, pink and girly up. There was a clothesline with money pinned all around. The kitchen held ladies busy prepping food. Someone shouted "Guests are starting to arrive!" In the next hour couches were sat upon and visiting was happening. Then, a prayer and meal. Chickpea's first tea party. China tea sets at every place. A beautiful cabinet all arranged with tea. Fluffy pink punch. Food. Quiches, fruit, homemade, divine and beautifully decorated cupcakes. Chocolate covered strawberries. Veggie tray. YUM.
After a delicious meal, the games ensued. They were delightfully played, and fun was had by everyone! Then, on to presents. Each one, a blessing. Each one meeting a need. Each one specifically and specially picked out just for Chickpea.
What a blessed time with special people. Each woman, girl and child there was so appreciated. Each showing their love and support for my growing family.
I have never felt more special or blessed than I did today. It was so humbling! I can't wait to share this treasure, this blessing, with other Mama-to-be's in the future!
A baby shower.
Truly a blessing. Showered upon ME. =0)
Monday, February 21, 2011
Getting Ready
My poor blog. My poor subscribers! Life has been so crazy that I've all but abandoned writing posts. By the time nap time rolls around I usually decide to nap too. Or when I don't have a toddler, aka Goober Pie crawling all over me trying to press buttons, it's bedtime, and I'm worn out and ready for sleep myself. So here sits my blog, day after day, night after lonely night, waiting on me to come back. Haha. Not that life is going to slow down or anything...at all. I can barely find time to indulge in any of my hobbies or interests the way life is now. I guess that's not completely true...I just don't MAKE the time. Maybe having 2 kids will teach me how to better use my "free" time? We'll see.
So I've been getting ready. Cleaning, organizing, washing, shopping, hanging, purging, nesting, nesting and nesting getting ready to welcome our next child into our lives! Chickpea, as SHE is so lovingly called. Her name is actually Rowan. Rowan Kaye, and she's due March 15. As in 3 weeks from tomorrow. But, if she's anything like Goober Pie, she might decide to come early. (He was 2.5 weeks early, which was fine by me. You'll know why one of these days when I finish his birth story...speaking of which, I need to get on that!)
I'm so excited to have a girl!! Having a boy has been SO FUN. Don't get me wrong. But there's just SO MUCH STUFF for girls! Cute, adorable, makes me want to be a baby again, sort of stuff. The clothes. Oh, the clothes. How fun are they? I'm in love with the stuff!
I can't wait to meet our little girl! What will she look like? Who will she look like? What color will her hair be? And yes, we actually know that she's going to have hair!
I've been under the care of a wonderful midwife group, the UNT Midwife Group and with them, we're planning (Lord Willing) on having a water birth. Which I am very excited about! I've always wanted a water birth, and am so thankful to have the opportunity to have one! We are planning on delivering at a local hospital. Their tubs are nice-we went and looked! Anyways, back to the knowing Chickpea has hair. I've been measuring behind by 2-3 weeks my whole pregnancy, so out of a let's get things checked out, we don't think there's anything wrong situation, I was sent to a Perinatologist to have a sonogram done to make sure Chickpea's growth was on track. It is. She's just fine. I'm just a carrier of small babies. But anyways, they could tell in the sonogram that she's going to have hair! Fun stuff!
At this point, as I type this, I'm hours from being 37 weeks pregnant, and I'm so ready to have this baby and meet my daughter! My hormones have been raging out of control my whole pregnancy, but man oh man, they have been SO BAD lately. My husband is so long suffering with me. I know I must be irritating him to no end, but he seems to take it in stride and often makes jokes about how cranky I am. A good man I have as I spouse, let me tell you!
Goober Pie is very aware that I'm pregnant. He's aware that I have a baby in my belly. "RoRo" as he so lovingly and sweetly calls his sister. I'm endlessly praying that he adjusts to being a big brother well. We are dealing with MAJOR attitude problems with him. His depraved, sinful nature is just rearing it's ugly head. Breaks my heart how he is acting. Discourages me. Frustrates me to no end. He is constantly NOT obeying a word I say, and he is dealing with his own anger and the only way he knows how to express it is through hitting. Which he does all day everyday. He hits me, the couch, the floor, the fridge, the dog, the cat. It doesn't matter, if it's within his range and his will is being thwarted, or sometimes even when it's not, he hits. We've been working with him and trying to be as consistent as we can in our disciplining. I've also been telling him and instructing him that when he gets mad and wants to hit, to pray. I've been saying simple prayers, and having him repeat what he can. It seems to help. Until five minutes later he hits again...
Pray for me, will you? And for our family as we make this transition into becoming a family of 4. Parents of 2. We need all the prayers and help we can get!
So I've been getting ready. Cleaning, organizing, washing, shopping, hanging, purging, nesting, nesting and nesting getting ready to welcome our next child into our lives! Chickpea, as SHE is so lovingly called. Her name is actually Rowan. Rowan Kaye, and she's due March 15. As in 3 weeks from tomorrow. But, if she's anything like Goober Pie, she might decide to come early. (He was 2.5 weeks early, which was fine by me. You'll know why one of these days when I finish his birth story...speaking of which, I need to get on that!)
I'm so excited to have a girl!! Having a boy has been SO FUN. Don't get me wrong. But there's just SO MUCH STUFF for girls! Cute, adorable, makes me want to be a baby again, sort of stuff. The clothes. Oh, the clothes. How fun are they? I'm in love with the stuff!
I can't wait to meet our little girl! What will she look like? Who will she look like? What color will her hair be? And yes, we actually know that she's going to have hair!
I've been under the care of a wonderful midwife group, the UNT Midwife Group and with them, we're planning (Lord Willing) on having a water birth. Which I am very excited about! I've always wanted a water birth, and am so thankful to have the opportunity to have one! We are planning on delivering at a local hospital. Their tubs are nice-we went and looked! Anyways, back to the knowing Chickpea has hair. I've been measuring behind by 2-3 weeks my whole pregnancy, so out of a let's get things checked out, we don't think there's anything wrong situation, I was sent to a Perinatologist to have a sonogram done to make sure Chickpea's growth was on track. It is. She's just fine. I'm just a carrier of small babies. But anyways, they could tell in the sonogram that she's going to have hair! Fun stuff!
At this point, as I type this, I'm hours from being 37 weeks pregnant, and I'm so ready to have this baby and meet my daughter! My hormones have been raging out of control my whole pregnancy, but man oh man, they have been SO BAD lately. My husband is so long suffering with me. I know I must be irritating him to no end, but he seems to take it in stride and often makes jokes about how cranky I am. A good man I have as I spouse, let me tell you!
Goober Pie is very aware that I'm pregnant. He's aware that I have a baby in my belly. "RoRo" as he so lovingly and sweetly calls his sister. I'm endlessly praying that he adjusts to being a big brother well. We are dealing with MAJOR attitude problems with him. His depraved, sinful nature is just rearing it's ugly head. Breaks my heart how he is acting. Discourages me. Frustrates me to no end. He is constantly NOT obeying a word I say, and he is dealing with his own anger and the only way he knows how to express it is through hitting. Which he does all day everyday. He hits me, the couch, the floor, the fridge, the dog, the cat. It doesn't matter, if it's within his range and his will is being thwarted, or sometimes even when it's not, he hits. We've been working with him and trying to be as consistent as we can in our disciplining. I've also been telling him and instructing him that when he gets mad and wants to hit, to pray. I've been saying simple prayers, and having him repeat what he can. It seems to help. Until five minutes later he hits again...
Pray for me, will you? And for our family as we make this transition into becoming a family of 4. Parents of 2. We need all the prayers and help we can get!
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