I'm coming to realize that, with life's twists and turns, this blog hasn't been a "homesteading" blog in a hot minute. We don't live in a self-sufficient home on the farm. We haven't given up that dream, but with a new baby came the need for a home and FAST, and so we bought a run-of-the-mill house, complete with bills. SO....it's time for blog makeover! The thing is, I'm most likely to blog what's on my mind, what I'm into, what my family is up to. I'm also trying to boot Facebook out as being such a prominent part of my life. It's not productive except for keeping up with family and friends, but it ends up being a mindless scroll and reload process. And yet I, and many others I know, can't stay off of it for long. So I'm making a conscious effort to restrict its grip on my life. I've also been reading some blogs such as Modern Mrs Darcy, and A Bowl Full of Lemons, and so I'm sort of...unsatisfied with the way all this is going.
Therefore, here's the update on this blog of mine: The name will stay the same, because my life is still one in a million, but what it promises to document will change. If, someday, we get back to our homesteading plan, I will document that, but for now comes the fun of getting to know J and E and their quirks, and goofy stories about Husband and myself, and our family adventures. And then, of course, when G is here, she'll be added into the adventures too. Books, organization, house-overhaul goals, all sorts of all things us. If you have any suggestions about things you'd like to see, I'd love to hear them!
Monday, October 3, 2016
Friday, September 30, 2016
Little Ways to Say 'I Love You'
I've been married for about 5 and a half years, a little over, I guess, and in that time, Husband and I have been through quite a few experiences that most couples will hopefully NEVER have to deal with. When a couple goes through stress and problems, it can either serve to strengthen their connection, or sever it. We're fortunate to not be severed. We've been together long enough that we know several of each others "idiosyncrasies" and little preferences, such as the fact that Husband doesn't like ice in his fountain drinks, and how when I'm having a bad day, he can perk me up by grabbing me Reese's, Snyder's Honey Mustard pretzels and a Pepsi. You learn these things about each other, because when you spend so many hours and days and weeks and months and years with the person you dedicated your life and commitment to, you're supposed to learn these things.
I'm a firm believer in the idea that love is not always presented in some big effort designed to drop jaws and cue music...sometimes it's just the little things that let the other person know that you remember, you think of them, you listen, you care. Husband stopping on his way home from work or school to grab something for me if he knows I've had a hard day with the kids, me baking him something because I know how he loves dessert, getting his food and drinks just the way I know he likes them and feeling bad when they're not up to standard...these are a few things. What are some ways, little things, you can show that may not exert a huge ton of energy or effort, but clearly show your significant other that you love them, you're thinking of them, you appreciate them?
1) Send them little notes and texts.
Nothing gets me more smiley than to get a text from Husband while he's gone that isn't asking for something, or about something...he's just texting to tell me he loves me. Likewise, I like to let him know that he's important to me, that I enjoy spending time with him. Today on my way home from the doctor's, he passed by my parked van at a gas station, because I needed to use the restroom and get a drink. As he drove by he texted me, "I c u." To which I responded, "Creeper." These are the sorts of jokes that we heartily enjoy.
2) Small, cheap efforts can go a long way.
About 2 years ago, Husband was deployed to Africa to deal with the ebola scare in Monrovia, Liberia. So before that, we had a date. Our dear friends watched the kiddo and we took off on Husband's motorcycle to drive over the mountain, grab some food from the dollar menu at McDonald's, and then enjoy the sunset at the top of the mountain. To date, that's still our favorite date, and it cost less than $5.
3) You know his preferences; use them!
Husband doesn't like ice in his fountain drinks. He likes my chocolate chip cookies, and dessert in general, so I try to light a fire under my butt and provide that occasionally. He's fond of Mountain Dew, he doesn't like pretzels unless they're flavored. He likes mustard or sriracha on his dippy eggs. His favorite beer is Shiner Bock, but he will settle for Bud Light if he must. He branches outside the beer box often though. He loves to try new chips, and hates beans and peas because of their consistency. He likes longer ankle socks with jeans, but insists on anklet socks with shorts, and NEVER jorts. He's a fan of sneakers on both himself and me, but doesn't push the issue. He likes a high fade haircut and likes even more that I'm capable of giving him one, because it saves money. You know what my knowledge of these things means? I can make him happy almost all the time.
It's so easy to love someone, simply by paying attention.
I'm a firm believer in the idea that love is not always presented in some big effort designed to drop jaws and cue music...sometimes it's just the little things that let the other person know that you remember, you think of them, you listen, you care. Husband stopping on his way home from work or school to grab something for me if he knows I've had a hard day with the kids, me baking him something because I know how he loves dessert, getting his food and drinks just the way I know he likes them and feeling bad when they're not up to standard...these are a few things. What are some ways, little things, you can show that may not exert a huge ton of energy or effort, but clearly show your significant other that you love them, you're thinking of them, you appreciate them?
1) Send them little notes and texts.
Nothing gets me more smiley than to get a text from Husband while he's gone that isn't asking for something, or about something...he's just texting to tell me he loves me. Likewise, I like to let him know that he's important to me, that I enjoy spending time with him. Today on my way home from the doctor's, he passed by my parked van at a gas station, because I needed to use the restroom and get a drink. As he drove by he texted me, "I c u." To which I responded, "Creeper." These are the sorts of jokes that we heartily enjoy.
2) Small, cheap efforts can go a long way.
About 2 years ago, Husband was deployed to Africa to deal with the ebola scare in Monrovia, Liberia. So before that, we had a date. Our dear friends watched the kiddo and we took off on Husband's motorcycle to drive over the mountain, grab some food from the dollar menu at McDonald's, and then enjoy the sunset at the top of the mountain. To date, that's still our favorite date, and it cost less than $5.
3) You know his preferences; use them!
Husband doesn't like ice in his fountain drinks. He likes my chocolate chip cookies, and dessert in general, so I try to light a fire under my butt and provide that occasionally. He's fond of Mountain Dew, he doesn't like pretzels unless they're flavored. He likes mustard or sriracha on his dippy eggs. His favorite beer is Shiner Bock, but he will settle for Bud Light if he must. He branches outside the beer box often though. He loves to try new chips, and hates beans and peas because of their consistency. He likes longer ankle socks with jeans, but insists on anklet socks with shorts, and NEVER jorts. He's a fan of sneakers on both himself and me, but doesn't push the issue. He likes a high fade haircut and likes even more that I'm capable of giving him one, because it saves money. You know what my knowledge of these things means? I can make him happy almost all the time.
It's so easy to love someone, simply by paying attention.
Wednesday, September 21, 2016
The Importance of Routine and Organization
As a SAHM of two young children, and when the 3rd, school-age child doesn't live with me, my days tend to be very fluid, and oftentimes boring. We stay home most of the time, not doing much of anything, and J ends up a bit on the troublesome side when he doesn't have a productive way to burn energy. I also find that when I am just waking up and winging it all day, every day...I lose track of things.
Husband is fond of a very popular blog called The Art of Manliness. It's an awesome site, honestly. It bugs me that there's no female version of it; Husband and I tried searching for one once and were led to a blog that described PERFECTLY why there isn't. If you're interested, you could read it here, I suppose. Incidentally, I ended up subscribing to that blog anyways; they've got some awesome stuff, including the list of books, and free reading journal that I've recently become fascinated with. ANYWAYS. On AoM, they list sites, ideas, products, etc that a classic man should involve in his life. Husband scrolled through one evening and found an article by which I was intrigued. And so both Husband and I embarked on employing our own routines.
The night we read that article, I also decided the time had arrived for me to start keeping a planner. You know, like a real control freak.
I got this binder for 3.88 at Walmart.
I'd looked for "real" daytimer starters, but those run around $40. That's a lot of money, and we like to be frugal around here. So I grabbed this binder, a package of filler paper in the appropriate size, and took my stuff home to work on personalizing it. My mom, years ago, kept a planner/organizer of sorts, but she hasn't used it in years, so she offered up the remnants of hers for my scavenging. The most fun about this has been making the Amy model. You will not find a planner like this anywhere in the world, and I love it. I can keep personalizing and messing with it and it'll never compromise the goal, because it's all basically original, if a bit odd looking. But hey, I'm odd, so we fit together.
The very first page boasts my need for coffee, and then my zip-loc pouch of stickers, hole re-enforcers, and postage stamps. I'm usually the one that makes out the checks and mails them for our bills, so I'm also the Stamp Guardian.
Husband is fond of a very popular blog called The Art of Manliness. It's an awesome site, honestly. It bugs me that there's no female version of it; Husband and I tried searching for one once and were led to a blog that described PERFECTLY why there isn't. If you're interested, you could read it here, I suppose. Incidentally, I ended up subscribing to that blog anyways; they've got some awesome stuff, including the list of books, and free reading journal that I've recently become fascinated with. ANYWAYS. On AoM, they list sites, ideas, products, etc that a classic man should involve in his life. Husband scrolled through one evening and found an article by which I was intrigued. And so both Husband and I embarked on employing our own routines.
The night we read that article, I also decided the time had arrived for me to start keeping a planner. You know, like a real control freak.
I got this binder for 3.88 at Walmart.
I'd looked for "real" daytimer starters, but those run around $40. That's a lot of money, and we like to be frugal around here. So I grabbed this binder, a package of filler paper in the appropriate size, and took my stuff home to work on personalizing it. My mom, years ago, kept a planner/organizer of sorts, but she hasn't used it in years, so she offered up the remnants of hers for my scavenging. The most fun about this has been making the Amy model. You will not find a planner like this anywhere in the world, and I love it. I can keep personalizing and messing with it and it'll never compromise the goal, because it's all basically original, if a bit odd looking. But hey, I'm odd, so we fit together.
The very first page boasts my need for coffee, and then my zip-loc pouch of stickers, hole re-enforcers, and postage stamps. I'm usually the one that makes out the checks and mails them for our bills, so I'm also the Stamp Guardian.
This is just one example of the personalizations I made; on each tab divider I have a different quote/meme/whatever that I just happen to like. This is a good reminder to me; I tend to react emotionally, and then pay the penalty for that reaction later.
This is just an example of my weekly planner sheets. For confidentiality's sake I'm showing you a week I haven't done anything on. Normally my weekly stuff contains Husband's school schedule, any appointments, and even Blog Tuesdays that never seem to fall on a Tuesday because I'm a lazy slacker.
Yeah, this. Because this is also why Blog Tuesday never happens on a Tuesday. J is a busy boy. Even today is not one of our best days, but this particular entry and its distraction are keeping me sane, and keeping him alive.
Again, for confidentiality's sake, I'm showing you a month in the future that doesn't have appointments and such on it. For each month I wrote the name and then some symbol of it. For September, I did a book. October has a pumpkin, November has a cornucopia, and then December, my other favorite month, has this pretty snowflake and a sticker Christmas wreath. Stickers make me happy and I'm not ashamed to confess that I raided G's unused sticker collection for these.
We started collecting coins; it's something we can do as a family that will have value for future generations, and is fun to do now. We're doing states and national parks, as well as antique coins when the history is fascinating to us. For instance, Husband and I share a love of Nazi Germany history. Don't ask why; we're quirky. Husband found a deutschmark with Hitler's face on it and we snatched it up for pretty cheap. And now we have Nazi money in our safe. Aren't we fun?
This is what I was talking about when I mentioned my free reading journal. Love this thing. It has space for a bunch of things, but since it's a PDF you can print what you want of it. I have the cover and intro pages, and then 4 pages for lists of books I want to read, 2 for abandoned books, 11 for detailed descriptions of books I've read, with ratings and other such info, and then 4 pages of recommended reading, based on award-winning books. I LOVE IT. That cardboard divider on the left has Post-Its superglued on the front, with labels as to what each is to be used, but since it uses our real names I'm not showing that.
I stole my mom's business card pages, but I'm using the second one for pictures, so I don't have to make my checkbook fat anymore. Plus it lets me display them ALL, instead of just a select few.
And now, my dear friends, I shall detail my morning and evening routines for you. The article Husband and I read talked about how it gave structure and order to the day, that no matter what chaos happens in the middle, you can always count on settling everything down when you stick to your routines. Now, timing is much easier for men to settle if they determine to wake up at the same time every day, and have a schedule by which to organize their day. But mommies to sporadically sleeping 2-month-olds can't stick to timing, because who knows when the crap we'll be up for the day? Once E is older, I might set a wake up time a bit earlier than E or J wakes up, for some Mommy Time in the morning (something I deeply enjoyed before I got pregnant with E), but for now, timing is in the wind.
Once E is settled (diaper changed, dressed, fed, content to sit for a bit on her own, or possibly even snoozing again), I do my hygiene necessities, such as brushing my teeth, doing my hair, destinking myself with deodorant and body spray. Then I get dressed in workout clothes and put on a few essential oils that will help me start my day with J well (Stress Away and Joy are two of my norms). J's breakfast and drink come next, because he expects those almost as soon as he gets up for the day. When he's done with that, I put E in the Tula, J in the stroller, and we go for a 2 mile walk. As soon as we get home, we go potty, and then I take J and E outside to play for a bit on the swingset. J is an active type and I find that if he is allowed a chance to get some energy out, he is a better behaved boy for the rest of the day, so I let him go monkey, and I put E in the disk swing we have and push her around. Sometimes she falls asleep in that, sometimes she needs to eat again. We stay outside for as close to an hour as I can finagle, depending on J's behavior and E's needs. When we come inside, I change into my clothes for the day, make sure everyone's settled doing something or napping, and do whatever I have on my to-do list. I try to keep a running to-do list because as long as there's something written down with an empty box to check next to it, I have motivation to get it done. Between to-do list items and the kids' needs, I can easily tick the day away. At night, after E's had her bath around 7:35 and been fed, I put her down for bed. J goes to bed around 8:30, after he's cleaned his room starting at 8. Once both kids are down, I shower, brush my teeth and reapply destinkifier. I set out my workout clothes for the next day, and then review my to-do list and schedule for the following day. My goal is to add devotions to that, and then I go to sleep.
The day I started employing routines, I found myself feeling more accomplished, and actually being more productive from the get-go. It feels good to get myself into the mindframe of "ok, let's get this and this and this and this done" and then to actually do it. I've been limiting myself to 30 minutes of FB time a day, to cut down on mindless screen time, but I do want to start enforcing Blog Tuesdays again, and even planning out my entries. We'll see how that goes; I've stuck to this daytimer far longer than I've ever done one before. My birthday is in just over 2 months, and I'll be 30; I think this will be my decade. I feel better about myself. I can't wait to drag you along with my better decade. <3
Saturday, September 3, 2016
Defying Reality
Social networks, specifically one I won't name (rhymes with shmaceshmook) are sucking my soul out. But, as Husband says, it's an addiction, one I have good reason not to shake off yet. Still, breaks from it are healthy, so today I'm on break. And I'm happy to report, I have not been on Shmaceshmook since I said I was taking a couple-day break. I've been tempted, but I have resisted. HOORAH FOR AMY! In its lieu, I have cleaned up, cared for E (of course) and raided both Sims and Pinterest (I'm not socializing on Pinterest, chill!).
Sims is a longtime interest for me. When I was in high school, I believe, I found Sims 2 and became interested in it, and so bought expansion packs and engaged in living lives I'll never actually get to live. When Sims 3 with its infinitely improved graphics arrived on the scene, I immediately switched, and stocked up on expansion packs again. To this day, that's my game of choice, and I have most of the expansion packs, along with several stuff packs. It's a struggle to resist buying Sims 4, but I've invested a lot of money in Sims 3. I've tried explaining my love of this game to people who love me and don't understand why I love it, so I'll explain it here too.
Sims 3 allows for you to choose your looks. You get to choose if you're going to be skinny or fat, or a witch or fairy or werewolf. You get to choose your hair color and change your style on a whim, no waiting for money or hair to grow. You can travel. You can CHEAT your way to a lot of money. You can stay up all night and work on increasing your skills. You are guaranteed success most of the time. So, suffice it to say: Sims allows me to escape reality for awhile. Reality blows, admit it. And so I sit and drown myself in the world of Sims that speak Simlish and spend Simoleans, etc. Sounds enjoyable, huh?
Sims is a longtime interest for me. When I was in high school, I believe, I found Sims 2 and became interested in it, and so bought expansion packs and engaged in living lives I'll never actually get to live. When Sims 3 with its infinitely improved graphics arrived on the scene, I immediately switched, and stocked up on expansion packs again. To this day, that's my game of choice, and I have most of the expansion packs, along with several stuff packs. It's a struggle to resist buying Sims 4, but I've invested a lot of money in Sims 3. I've tried explaining my love of this game to people who love me and don't understand why I love it, so I'll explain it here too.
Sims 3 allows for you to choose your looks. You get to choose if you're going to be skinny or fat, or a witch or fairy or werewolf. You get to choose your hair color and change your style on a whim, no waiting for money or hair to grow. You can travel. You can CHEAT your way to a lot of money. You can stay up all night and work on increasing your skills. You are guaranteed success most of the time. So, suffice it to say: Sims allows me to escape reality for awhile. Reality blows, admit it. And so I sit and drown myself in the world of Sims that speak Simlish and spend Simoleans, etc. Sounds enjoyable, huh?
Monday, August 29, 2016
I'm Baaaaaaaaaaaack
So, I'm really bad at this, but I'm trying to rearrange a few things in my life to allow for more structure, and blogging is hopefully going to be part of that.
E is now about 6 weeks old, and while I don't get her weighed for a couple more weeks, she was 9lbs 8 oz 2 weeks ago. She's a fussy little princess (we call her Princess Prissy Pants) but we love her. Her sleeping schedule is evening out, although Mommy is still only getting about 4 hours of sleep a night, and depending on coffee to survive the day, because most days I still don't get a nap. Grammy got her a swing a couple days ago and she loves it; if all her needs are met, she'll sit in it for hours, sometimes, which allows me to get things done. No, not nap. E sitting peacefully in a swing does not resolve J running around making messes and needing supervision.
Husband is back in school for a whopping 18 credit hours, so he's gone M-Thurs, from about 7 am until a bit after 5, and then on Friday for a half day, which means the kids and I are on our own all week. You better believe that Friday afternoon is a relief, and a joy. He's doing well in his classes though. Harvest is in another month or so; I expect we won't see much of him then, but it's the family's livelihood, so it is what it is.
J is normal. Chaotic, bouncy, intelligent. His cognitive skills are improving; you can almost have a conversation with him now. He's not jealous of E, so I don't worry that he's going to hurt her, although his exuberance to love her can be problematic at times. Shortly after she was born, he got it in his head that he wanted to hold her, so while she was sitting in her bouncer, and Husband and I were in the kitchen doing dishes, J sat next to her and slowly pulled her off the bouncer and onto his lap. He had her halfway off before I saw what he was doing and gasped so loudly, he thought he was going to be in trouble, poor boy. So I had him sit on the couch and put her in his lap, which is where you get pictures like these...
He loves his sister; he's good to her. Let's just hope it continues, yes?
G is back in school as well. She tested into advanced math because she's smart as a whip, and she seems to not only enjoy her new school and teacher, but also her new friends. She's about to grow her bangs out. She's back in the Girl Scouts, making a difference in the world, and she's a big sister at her dad's house too because her stepmom had her baby 2 weeks after E was born! Congrats, M2! But as her baby is not mine, I'll show you a picture of G holding E just an hour or two after E was born. G left 4 days after E was born, so I don't have many recent pictures of G with E.
E is now about 6 weeks old, and while I don't get her weighed for a couple more weeks, she was 9lbs 8 oz 2 weeks ago. She's a fussy little princess (we call her Princess Prissy Pants) but we love her. Her sleeping schedule is evening out, although Mommy is still only getting about 4 hours of sleep a night, and depending on coffee to survive the day, because most days I still don't get a nap. Grammy got her a swing a couple days ago and she loves it; if all her needs are met, she'll sit in it for hours, sometimes, which allows me to get things done. No, not nap. E sitting peacefully in a swing does not resolve J running around making messes and needing supervision.
Her first smile on camera. And no, I wasn't the camerawoman. My grama had this honor.
This wide-eyed ghost spotter look is pretty much her norm.
Husband is back in school for a whopping 18 credit hours, so he's gone M-Thurs, from about 7 am until a bit after 5, and then on Friday for a half day, which means the kids and I are on our own all week. You better believe that Friday afternoon is a relief, and a joy. He's doing well in his classes though. Harvest is in another month or so; I expect we won't see much of him then, but it's the family's livelihood, so it is what it is.
He loves his sister; he's good to her. Let's just hope it continues, yes?
G is back in school as well. She tested into advanced math because she's smart as a whip, and she seems to not only enjoy her new school and teacher, but also her new friends. She's about to grow her bangs out. She's back in the Girl Scouts, making a difference in the world, and she's a big sister at her dad's house too because her stepmom had her baby 2 weeks after E was born! Congrats, M2! But as her baby is not mine, I'll show you a picture of G holding E just an hour or two after E was born. G left 4 days after E was born, so I don't have many recent pictures of G with E.
A very satisfied big sister.
And then there's me. What's new with me? Hmm. Well, I bounced back to pre-pregnancy weight immediately after E came out, thank the Lord. Husband fixed my hip problem, so I walk normal again. I'm back to working out, and I have a Fitbit now so I'm tracking all this fun stuff. It's enlightening to see how much sleep I get. (Or sad, possibly.) I'm also changing how I function on Facebook; trying to simplify my life. We'll see how that goes too.
Thursday, August 4, 2016
She's Here!
Yeah, so maybe I'm a bit late in posting this: little girl is here! We'll call her E. She arrived on 7/14 at 11:40am in a rush of activity. I'll tell you her birth story and show you just what a gorgeous little girl she is.
On 7/13 in the morning, I'd given up. I wasn't wanting to have an induction, but G was leaving on the 18th and I was running out of time, and frankly, I was in a lot of hip and back pain. I posted on FB that I gave up, she was never coming out and I'd be pregnant forever. That night, I went to the bathroom and discovered bloody show, which is usually a pretty good sign that labor and delivery is right around the corner, so I was excited. I had 2 contractions in the night that woke me up, but once I realized what was going on, I just went back to sleep. At about 4 am, I couldn't just go back to sleep anymore, so I went to the living room to ride out the contractions until a more decent hour. I had an appointment that morning, on the 14th, for thyroid testing, and it was pretty early so I didn't anticipate problems with that. I figured afterwards I'd come home and wait for when my body told me it was time to go to the hospital. At 7 am no one in my house had woken up yet, which is unusual because J is an early riser and usually wakes Husband and I up. I couldn't wait anymore; I could tell things were progressing, so my plan was to get dressed, pack everyone up and gauge the situation to see if grandmas needed to be called to watch G and J. Every movement sped up AND intensified my contractions. I woke Husband by saying, "Good morning, love! It's baby day!" He was ready to hop out of bed and drive me to the hospital, but when I realized I didn't have any clean shorts for J, I did a load of laundry and finished packing G. We were splitting the kids up, so that no one grandma would have to deal with the chaos of having both G and J together, and we called Husband's mom to come watch them for my appointment so that Husband could drive me.
I progressed VERY quickly and told my doctor and the nurse that I was in labor, and when they heard how many contractions I'd had in the 14 minutes I'd been there, advised me to get to the hospital ASAP. My mom picked up G and took her, and Husband's mom stayed with J. Husband drove us home to grab the diaper bag and then drove about 30 mph over the speed limit to get me to the hospital; the contractions were about every 2 minutes by then and I couldn't talk through them. We arrived at the hospital at about 10 am, after being told by my OB's nurse to go to the office to be checked. Doc checked me and said, "You didn't want an epidural, right? Because you don't have time for one anyways." I was 7cm dilated by that point. They wheeled me to L&D and got me checked into bed, started asking questions, and helped me ride out my contractions. I've always considered myself sorta weak in the hands, but Husband tells me I squeezed his hand pretty hard. I did well breathing through, and was fine and dandy until I felt the urge to push. The nurses couldn't agree about how dilated I was, and decided I was 8 and told me it wasn't time yet, but the more I fought pushing, the more painful it was. Eventually I couldn't fight it anymore. The nurse called on her shoulder walkie talkie that I wasn't able to quit pushing, while both she and Husband told me to breathe through it. My body didn't listen, and in a warm rush of fluids, out came E. No one noticed at first; they were still telling me to breathe and not push. Husband says he doesn't know what made him look down, but when he did, there lay E, purple and crying. And so he vocally reacted like he did when J was born: "Uhh, uhh....she's out." Nurse looked down and lo and behold I'd gotten her all the way out; my water broke as she came out. Nurses flooded in the room to deal with her, getting her suctioned out, tying off and cutting her cord, and getting her to the infant table. My doc came in and was MAD; he slammed a cabinet door. Then he put on his mask and helped me deliver the placenta before giving me a single stitch because I'd torn a tiny bit.
E was beautiful, and of course she still is. She was born at 8 lbs 1 oz, 20.5" long. I was basically pain free as soon as she came out and still am. My nurses were shocked that I never needed pain meds, but hey, if you're not in pain, why take meds? G and J both came to see us, although it took a full 30 minutes before J even realized there was a baby in the duck blanket he'd been looking at. G was smitten and brought me pretty flowers. We went home on Saturday the 16th.
On 7/13 in the morning, I'd given up. I wasn't wanting to have an induction, but G was leaving on the 18th and I was running out of time, and frankly, I was in a lot of hip and back pain. I posted on FB that I gave up, she was never coming out and I'd be pregnant forever. That night, I went to the bathroom and discovered bloody show, which is usually a pretty good sign that labor and delivery is right around the corner, so I was excited. I had 2 contractions in the night that woke me up, but once I realized what was going on, I just went back to sleep. At about 4 am, I couldn't just go back to sleep anymore, so I went to the living room to ride out the contractions until a more decent hour. I had an appointment that morning, on the 14th, for thyroid testing, and it was pretty early so I didn't anticipate problems with that. I figured afterwards I'd come home and wait for when my body told me it was time to go to the hospital. At 7 am no one in my house had woken up yet, which is unusual because J is an early riser and usually wakes Husband and I up. I couldn't wait anymore; I could tell things were progressing, so my plan was to get dressed, pack everyone up and gauge the situation to see if grandmas needed to be called to watch G and J. Every movement sped up AND intensified my contractions. I woke Husband by saying, "Good morning, love! It's baby day!" He was ready to hop out of bed and drive me to the hospital, but when I realized I didn't have any clean shorts for J, I did a load of laundry and finished packing G. We were splitting the kids up, so that no one grandma would have to deal with the chaos of having both G and J together, and we called Husband's mom to come watch them for my appointment so that Husband could drive me.
I progressed VERY quickly and told my doctor and the nurse that I was in labor, and when they heard how many contractions I'd had in the 14 minutes I'd been there, advised me to get to the hospital ASAP. My mom picked up G and took her, and Husband's mom stayed with J. Husband drove us home to grab the diaper bag and then drove about 30 mph over the speed limit to get me to the hospital; the contractions were about every 2 minutes by then and I couldn't talk through them. We arrived at the hospital at about 10 am, after being told by my OB's nurse to go to the office to be checked. Doc checked me and said, "You didn't want an epidural, right? Because you don't have time for one anyways." I was 7cm dilated by that point. They wheeled me to L&D and got me checked into bed, started asking questions, and helped me ride out my contractions. I've always considered myself sorta weak in the hands, but Husband tells me I squeezed his hand pretty hard. I did well breathing through, and was fine and dandy until I felt the urge to push. The nurses couldn't agree about how dilated I was, and decided I was 8 and told me it wasn't time yet, but the more I fought pushing, the more painful it was. Eventually I couldn't fight it anymore. The nurse called on her shoulder walkie talkie that I wasn't able to quit pushing, while both she and Husband told me to breathe through it. My body didn't listen, and in a warm rush of fluids, out came E. No one noticed at first; they were still telling me to breathe and not push. Husband says he doesn't know what made him look down, but when he did, there lay E, purple and crying. And so he vocally reacted like he did when J was born: "Uhh, uhh....she's out." Nurse looked down and lo and behold I'd gotten her all the way out; my water broke as she came out. Nurses flooded in the room to deal with her, getting her suctioned out, tying off and cutting her cord, and getting her to the infant table. My doc came in and was MAD; he slammed a cabinet door. Then he put on his mask and helped me deliver the placenta before giving me a single stitch because I'd torn a tiny bit.
E was beautiful, and of course she still is. She was born at 8 lbs 1 oz, 20.5" long. I was basically pain free as soon as she came out and still am. My nurses were shocked that I never needed pain meds, but hey, if you're not in pain, why take meds? G and J both came to see us, although it took a full 30 minutes before J even realized there was a baby in the duck blanket he'd been looking at. G was smitten and brought me pretty flowers. We went home on Saturday the 16th.
Various details: While in the waiting room at the office, right after my pee test, I had a contraction before I could sit down. I leaned against the wall to brace myself, and Husband stood right there, ready to meet any need I asked of him. A woman in the room noticed me, and offered me a chair so I could sit down. Later, after I was checked and put in a wheelchair to go to L&D, she happened to be waiting for the elevator when they wheeled me to it, and I thanked her for the chair, because I was raised to be thankful for any effort of help someone gave me, even if I didn't actually need it. She said, "No problem. I was wondering why this tall guy was just standing there." Gratitude over. Husband and I are in tune; he knew to be there, ready to help me if I needed it, but as I'd said nothing and only needed a brace to stand firm for me, he just stood there waiting. As he needed to.
At one point I had to use the restroom, so Husband and the nurse stood waiting to help me. I had a contraction while sitting, and muttered out, "I wish she'd just get out already." The nurse, bless her heart, thought I was talking about her, so she said, "Oh, ok," and turned around to leave. Enter extreme guilt. I told her I was talking about the baby, not her, and that I was so sorry, that it was rude. Husband laughed; he thought it was hilarious, but I was so embarrassed that she thought I'd say such a thing to her. Poor girl.
At one point I had to use the restroom, so Husband and the nurse stood waiting to help me. I had a contraction while sitting, and muttered out, "I wish she'd just get out already." The nurse, bless her heart, thought I was talking about her, so she said, "Oh, ok," and turned around to leave. Enter extreme guilt. I told her I was talking about the baby, not her, and that I was so sorry, that it was rude. Husband laughed; he thought it was hilarious, but I was so embarrassed that she thought I'd say such a thing to her. Poor girl.
Monday, July 11, 2016
The Countdown Passed Me
Today is 7/11/2016. My due date was 7/9/2016. In the scheme of things, that's really not that late, but it feels late because I'm in THAT much pain.
Pregnancy is hard on the body. It drains you of your nutrients, vitamins, mobility, dignity, and a whole bunch of other stuff, I'm sure.
With G and J, my teeth died. I had such pretty, resilient teeth in my first 20 years, but with G, my wisdom teeth decided to make an appearance and immediately cause problems, so those were removed when she was still tiny. I'm sure there were other problems but those were not discovered or addressed. It only got worse with J, and the dental work needed to recover from what he drained from my mouth has yet to be fully addressed. I was remiss, I should have scheduled all the dental work while Husband was still in the Army, but I didn't, and now, while Baby (to be retitled after birth) is not actually having much effect on my teeth, she is a bit of an obstacle to me getting them fixed.
Additionally, with each subsequent pregnancy the battery of physical woes has worsened. G wasn't so agonizing; I maintained a retail job very far into the pregnancy, but with J I had crippling sciatica and awful late-pregnancy Charlie horse cramps in my legs that once actually had Husband jumping up in the middle of the night, ready to assist me to the car for labor. And now, with Baby, I've had sciatica (resolved early and quickly thanks to chiropractic care), round ligament pain (resolved the same way), and most recently, and severely, massive hip pain. It's so bad I walk around like a zombie. I skipped church yesterday because I couldn't walk, and that is something I HATE doing. I got a chiropractic adjustment on 7/8, but on 7/9 we went to Denny's for breakfast because I can't stand to cook lately, (and we like Denny's) and while there, I needed to use the restroom. J came with me because he's almost completely potty-trained and needed to go too. We went, washed hands, and just as I was side-stepping to grab the door handle, my flip flop (when will I learn to quit wearing them?) caught a seam in the floor. I started to fall (for a 3rd time; I have a habit of falling this time around), so I caught myself...at the expense of all the work the chiropractor had done the day before. It was so discouraging, my hormones jumped up and made me choke up. I don't like crying in public, so when Husband asked what was wrong, why I looked like someone hit my puppy, I couldn't answer. Enter in Papa Bear, who immediately wondered if someone in the bathroom had violated me, verbally or otherwise, and he was ready to go to war. He and J went to the car, and I stayed to pay (compared to wrestling J into the van, standing in line to pay the bill is a snap, so don't judge him for lack of chivalry), and got distracted. The minute I finished and returned to my place, Husband said, "What happened?" I told him about almost falling and he was immediately relieved he didn't have to march back inside to lay a crackdown on someone.
So, today, and yesterday, we are stuck. I can barely get up to go to the bathroom, yet we have occasionally left the house. And so I lean all over the shopping cart to get anywhere. But for now, until I have to scoot to the hospital, my green recliner is my go-to spot for resting...until J acts up in the bathroom, or his room, or the kitchen, or inevitably any room that is NOT the living room. It's time for this baby to come out, so my hip can return to normal and the only thing that keeps me in my chair is a tiny person, not physical, personal pain. LET'S GO, GIRL CHILD.
Pregnancy is hard on the body. It drains you of your nutrients, vitamins, mobility, dignity, and a whole bunch of other stuff, I'm sure.
With G and J, my teeth died. I had such pretty, resilient teeth in my first 20 years, but with G, my wisdom teeth decided to make an appearance and immediately cause problems, so those were removed when she was still tiny. I'm sure there were other problems but those were not discovered or addressed. It only got worse with J, and the dental work needed to recover from what he drained from my mouth has yet to be fully addressed. I was remiss, I should have scheduled all the dental work while Husband was still in the Army, but I didn't, and now, while Baby (to be retitled after birth) is not actually having much effect on my teeth, she is a bit of an obstacle to me getting them fixed.
Additionally, with each subsequent pregnancy the battery of physical woes has worsened. G wasn't so agonizing; I maintained a retail job very far into the pregnancy, but with J I had crippling sciatica and awful late-pregnancy Charlie horse cramps in my legs that once actually had Husband jumping up in the middle of the night, ready to assist me to the car for labor. And now, with Baby, I've had sciatica (resolved early and quickly thanks to chiropractic care), round ligament pain (resolved the same way), and most recently, and severely, massive hip pain. It's so bad I walk around like a zombie. I skipped church yesterday because I couldn't walk, and that is something I HATE doing. I got a chiropractic adjustment on 7/8, but on 7/9 we went to Denny's for breakfast because I can't stand to cook lately, (and we like Denny's) and while there, I needed to use the restroom. J came with me because he's almost completely potty-trained and needed to go too. We went, washed hands, and just as I was side-stepping to grab the door handle, my flip flop (when will I learn to quit wearing them?) caught a seam in the floor. I started to fall (for a 3rd time; I have a habit of falling this time around), so I caught myself...at the expense of all the work the chiropractor had done the day before. It was so discouraging, my hormones jumped up and made me choke up. I don't like crying in public, so when Husband asked what was wrong, why I looked like someone hit my puppy, I couldn't answer. Enter in Papa Bear, who immediately wondered if someone in the bathroom had violated me, verbally or otherwise, and he was ready to go to war. He and J went to the car, and I stayed to pay (compared to wrestling J into the van, standing in line to pay the bill is a snap, so don't judge him for lack of chivalry), and got distracted. The minute I finished and returned to my place, Husband said, "What happened?" I told him about almost falling and he was immediately relieved he didn't have to march back inside to lay a crackdown on someone.
So, today, and yesterday, we are stuck. I can barely get up to go to the bathroom, yet we have occasionally left the house. And so I lean all over the shopping cart to get anywhere. But for now, until I have to scoot to the hospital, my green recliner is my go-to spot for resting...until J acts up in the bathroom, or his room, or the kitchen, or inevitably any room that is NOT the living room. It's time for this baby to come out, so my hip can return to normal and the only thing that keeps me in my chair is a tiny person, not physical, personal pain. LET'S GO, GIRL CHILD.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)