Thursday, November 20, 2014

Isabella's Birth Story

Finding out I was pregnant back in February was NOT what we were expecting. Not that we didn't want another baby, just not yet!
This pregnancy flew by.
A little nausea in the beginning, with a LOT of exhaustion.

5 months came so fast!
We found out we were having a girl at 17 weeks and 3 days. The ultrasound showed a healthy little girl, which is always a relief!

I found myself 8 months pregnant, feeling huge, and ready to be done! Everyday I hoped would be the day. 
My brother AND my sister got married while I was pregnant, (one in August, the other in October) which seems to be a recurring theme in my life.
(My sister-in-law got married 2 days before Logan was born)
Through searching for dresses, quitting my job, being in too many wedding pictures, moving from Orem to Taylorsville, spending all summer camping, and raising my toddler, I made it to the end!

October 28, 2014 one of the newest, best days of my life.
I woke up from a strange dream, about ebola (haha), at 2:30 in the morning.
I commonly woke up at this time because I had to use the bathroom, or Logan was out of bed because he was cold, or one of the many other reasons for me to be up at 2 am.
I went and used the bathroom, and found myself extremely awake. I was usually exhausted when I would wake up in the night, and I could usually go back to sleep quickly.
Once I was back in bed, I stayed awake.
I had a contraction.
It was 2:45.
I had contractions all the time. I started having braxton hicks contractions when I was 14 weeks along. I had been having real contractions for about 3 weeks, and they had just become the annoying normal.
I had another contraction.
It was 2:50.
That one hurt.
I rolled over in bed and closed my eyes, but I didn't feel tired.
I rolled over again, and had another contraction.
It was 2:52.
3 in a row, within 10 minutes.
That was new.
By 3:15 I had had several more contractions, I had turned my lamp on, and had to really concentrate on relaxing through the pain.
Mark woke up, and asked me something about if we were having a baby. He would ask me that commonly when he'd find me awake in the middle of the night, because I was uncomfortable, and unable to sleep. But this time, I really thought it was possible.
In the past my contractions would always stop, and they didn't hurt as bad. I decided if they lasted over an hour I would call my midwife and see if I should go in to the hospital.
I told Mark this, and he said "You want to wait that long?"
I did NOT want to get sent home from the hospital. I called the midwife on call around 3:30 because my contractions were 1-3 minutes apart.
She asked me several questions, and suggested I take a shower, and drink some water, and see if they slowed down.
She didn't seem too worried, and then she asked "What were you dilated to at your last appointment?"
"A four." I responded.
"Oh Andrea! Go to the hospital!"
I laughed, and said okay.
I told Mark it was time to go, and Mark started loading the car.
At this point I could hardly breathe through a contraction, without standing up.
I was pacing around the house, brushing me teeth, directing Mark, drinking water, ensuring Logan was asleep, etc, etc. It felt like we took FOREVER to leave, but we were pretty fast!
We arrived at the hospital at 4:45, everything is kind of a blur after that.
They took what seemed like forever to get me all "checked in" I had to sign some things, and I had a couple of contractions, but I'm not sure if they noticed...
They took me into a Triage room to check me, and the baby.
I changed my clothes, contraction.
I peed in a cup, contraction.
I laid on the bed, contraction.
They checked to see how dilated I was, and I was at a 6!
The nurse was fantastic! I gave her my birth plan, and she filled things out, double checked my wants, and communicated what was needed to my other nurse.

"This is gonna be quick." She said to my other nurse.
I had 2 contractions after she checked me, and during the second one, my water broke. I forgot how incredibly bizarre that feels! I also threw up, I can't remember if it was before, or after.
They put a diaper thingy on me, and took me down the hall to a delivery room.
I paced, and paced.
There was a debate as to whether or not they would give me an IV.
My midwife told me I didn't have to have one, but the midwife on call said I would need one.
I was sad, I didn't want to have one, I was planning on not having one.
My midwife called, and told them she was on her way, and my nurse informed me that they would get in trouble if they gave me an IV.
I was SO glad my midwife was able to come.
She was in Bountiful, we were in Riverton.
It was 5:15.
I continued pacing, and breathing, and then the moaning started.
They had monitors around my stomach to track contractions, and fetal heartbeat.
My nurse would look at me every so often when she would see a contraction starting.
"You are so in control!" She told me at one point.
"They always end." I responded. "Eventually it will be over. That's what I tell myself."
I continued, slightly panting.
Contraction, contraction, contraction.
I don't know how close they were.
Mark and I asked them to check me.
Laying on the bed was AWFUL.
I was an 8.
I threw up again.
At this point, Mark had finally gotten ahold of my family, who hadn't been able to hear their phones ringing. It was a little after 6:00.
While I was throwing up, mark was on the phone with my mom.
"It should be soon, now." He said to her.
I had made my way onto the bed, and I was kneeling on it backwards.
I was laying my head down at the top ridge of the bed between contractions.
I would nod off. Contraction.
They were so intense.
I felt like pushing, but I wasn't sure, yet.
The nurse checked me, and I was a 9, but my cervix wasn't gone, yet.
My midwife arrived.
I was so relieved.
A few minutes passed, and I really wanted to push.
They checked me again, and said if I felt like pushing, then I should.
So I did.
Holy moly pushing out a baby is hard. It is so bizarre. It is so relieving to know you are almost done!
I don't know how many times I pushed.
But her head FINALLY came out.
And then her body.
And then she was born!
I flipped over off my knees, and they handed her to me.

We were a total mess.

She was crying, and beautiful, and she had hair!

She was born at 6:42 am, October 28, 2014.
7 lbs 5 oz, 18.5" long
She is finally here!

Thursday, February 6, 2014

Being a mother is hard.

Okay, so I have been craving writing some blog posts lately. As much as I would like to write them all today, that would take too long, and they wouldn't be very good.
I've decided to write a "quick" opinion post. If you don't agree, please remember this is my opinion, I am not looking for others to feel the same, I am just speaking my mind.

We are amazing.
I've come across a few things lately that are very saddening to me. Fellow mothers, degrading other mothers, for the choices they have made. I have decided that we live in a 2-choice society. As mothers, there are several areas where we can do one thing, or another. I am only listing 2 very largely argued topics. I wish to spread the word that we don't need to be degraded, we need to be educated, and supported! I feel like so many women become so radical, so biased, and judgemental. Why is that your choice is the better one? How do you even know?

First Example:  You can breast feed, or formula feed.
Everyone has their own experience, and their own opinions, but of all people, I feel as though I should be more judgmental than I am, because I had an extremely difficult time breastfeeding. It was not until 9 months that I discovered, with the help of others, why breast-feeding was so difficult in the beginning. My child had a lip tie, and a minor tongue tie. When your infants mouth is tied up, it tears apart your nipples as they use their gums to do their best to get the nutrients they need. I should have given up, but I didn't. It got easier after 6 weeks or so, and my depression began lessening. I breast-fed exclusively for 10 months, and began formula feeding exclusively at 11 1/2 months, and then he weaned himself from both a week later. So, based off of my experience, my attitude should be, "Well if I can do it after that, then so can you!"
The fact of the matter is, if your child is well-fed, and growing properly, it really doesn't matter how they are fed.

Why are we taking something so difficult, such as mothering, and making it a he said she said battle? I understand there are some things that are not the correct way to do things, but how often do we publicly shame other women for abusing, or neglecting their children? Why do we poke and jab at the stupid little things that don't even affect us personally? Enough is enough.

Second Example: Working Mom vs. Stay at Home Mom
For some people, being a working mom is awful! (i.e. Me)
I wasn't supposed to have to work, but our financial situation changed. I stayed at home for 9 months, and I loved every minute of it! Starting work was one of the hardest things I ever did. And for those of you who don't know how women stay at home with their children, we are over here wondering how you work instead of staying home. Just so there isn't a question, some women don't "need" to work because of finances, but they need to work for their sanity! I understand that, as well. Some mothers need time away from their children, just like the rest of us at one time or another. So stop being so judgmental, biased, and radical!

Every situation is hard,
being a mother is hard,
raising children who will eventually contribute to our society is VERY intimidating. It is difficult for everyone, so please stop acting like your way is better, because although it may be "better" for you, it may not be better for your next door neighbor, your sister, your cousin, etc. Give each other a little credit!

All in all, what do we do as mothers? Whether we breast feed, or formula feed, stay at home, or go to work. We teach our children to roll over, to sit up, to eat solid foods, to drink from a bottle, to eat with their hands, to crawl, to get up when they fall down, to walk, to drink from a training cup, to give up their binkies, to talk, to brush their teeth, to eat by themselves, the list goes on and on! We do A LOT for our children, whether we get a lot of help from child care, or a husband/boyfriend, a parent, or whomever, we still instill these great things in our children. Please stop being so biased, judgmental, and radical. To each their own, amen.