K, so a brief update: My baby is crawling! It is crazy! At first he was doing this thing where he would put his two hands in front of him and then scooch everything after them. But then he started to move his legs one after the other. He is doing it! A little more coordination and we will have a terror on our hands!
My mom came to visit and I have to say, my son adored her. He is turning into such a flirt. Anyway, she loved him and he loved her. She only could stay a brief time, and so we did a lot in a short time. She helped me shop and we introduced her to homemade sushi. She liked it. We had to improvise a little bit with cooked salmon and span, though, because she did not like the idea of raw meat. I also showed her my favorite pistols at a store we were visiting for my husband's sake (obsessed with fishing). That was pretty cool. She is actually a fast learner! She caught on fast and the guys at the counter spent some time explaining things to us.
I also had to brag about some of the changes I'm making around here. So I've been changing the way we eat things. I'm totally on a health kick right now. We are throwing out most processed food and sugary foods. I'm baking our bread with sprouted wheat (I hope to learn other sprouted wheat recipes). I'm making kifer, and putting in it our daily smoothie (which I think I have almost perfect now). We are also trying to buy more organic products and eating dairy and meat in more moderation. So, naturally, we are eating more fruits and vegetables. Its been great.
The weird thing is, I haven't lost any weight and my husband has. But I think I have started to slip out of my pants. This whole thing isn't to loose weight, but to be healthy. However, I thought that loosing wight would be a natural consequence. Maybe I shouldn't be surprised since I've maintained the same weight (besides pregnancy, of course) since high school. And I have been through just a few changes. I mean, I don't know how, but 2 weeks after delivery I was down to my pre-pregnancy weight, though I did NOT look like it. I still lost a lot of water "weight" but no weight. Weird, huh?
Anyway, I am super stoked about trying to be healthy. And I am excited to see where this takes me and my family. I mean, I already refuse to buy baby food, but blend it up myself. I feel like I have way more control about the quality of food my baby is getting.
Back to Mom. It was wonderful having her and we look forward to seeing her again at our place. We hope the stay is longer next time. It was really hard to see her go.
Tuesday, March 26, 2013
Sunday, February 10, 2013
Catch Up
I've done this too many times where I just have "blog binges" and then don't write for a long time.
I just need to catch up. For a while there, I didn't even have internet to blog with, so that was a challenge. And then I was at my parents. And then I was busy moving in.
So now, I guess I can get the big events down and move on with my life! haha
K, so, after my son was born, we moved to Menan, just a few minutes from school. My husband looked every day for a job. He was gone a lot of the time job-searching and I was trying to take care of myself and my baby. You see, I was having grey-outs and felt like I was going to faint all the time. It wasn't fun. But I couldn't really ask anyone for help, because I didn't know when I was going to feel that way. (The only thing I could do was make lots of doctor appointments, take test after test, wear monitors, more tests...sigh.) Anyway, I was also trying to get organized in that home.
While in Menan, we made a few friends. There was this particular lady and her family who we bonded easily with. She was awesome and was obliged to teach me some new skills: canning fish, making sprout-wheat bread, storing food, etc. I loved that family. They were models.
Then we accepted a job. We would have to move. So I tried to pack up our house as quick as I could while my husband went and found us a place. Then when he came back we saw each other for an afternoon and he took me to the airport. I flew out to be with my Mom for the rest of the holiday season, while he moved us. This way, our baby wouldn't have to endure a hard drive, I would feel taken care of, and he would be able to focus on his new job until he met us at my mom's place.
So we missed each other a lot, but we felt it was the best thing.
While I was visiting home, my mom and I got to spend a lot of time together and she got to know my son better. I really thought that was special. Then my sister and her family arrived. It got even more fun and busy. I think my son enjoyed watching his cousins, but he was scared at first...those boys are loud! Then he got used to the noise. And my sister just loved my son and he really loved her. She could make him smile whenever they crossed paths. It was SO cute. She could get him to giggle out of control!
Both my sister and I talked about how my Dad's absence was terribly felt and how there was a different feeling in our home. He was really missed. At least, the way things used to be. The person he was...
Then my husband and my other sister arrived and we got to enjoy the rest of the time we spent there with almost everyone. We saw my Dad here and there, and he came for family pictures, but we didn't get to spend Christmas with him. That was pretty depressing, to be honest.
On the bright side, we saw our son get excited about Christmas for the first time! I think it was all the colors and the excitement. It was so cute to watch him practically hyperventilate and reach for the new toys. Then he would immediately stuff them in his mouth and gnaw on them. I seriously wondered if he was teething very early.
Before I move on from my home town, I do want to touch on one thing briefly. I was touched by some of the kindness I witnessed. Ward members and friends were aware of what was going on in our family. While some were not very sensitive, others were. My best friend's (in high school) mother and I had been in contact because I had kind of asked her to be a friend to my mom before I had got there. Anyway, she came by the house and "kidnapped" my mom and they had a good talk. Then she and I got together. I thought this was just the sweetest thing. We went to the Cheese Cake Factory and she treated me. She and I talked and though she did want to hear about how my mom was doing, she specifically asked me how I was doing. Though disappointed, sad, frustrated, maybe a little angry, for the most part, at that time, I felt ok. I was more concerned about my mom. But she asked! She cared enough to take me out on a little date and make sure I was ok. I just have to say, she is still one of my heroes. Just goes to show that God lets some people into our lives to help us. We are never alone.
After Christmas, we went to our new home and I have been busy trying to set things up ever since. It is a fun little place, though it isn't so little to us. Its the biggest place we have ever been in. Maybe bigger than the three bedroom trailer we were in before. But it is old and a little funky. We have a random wood cupboard in our shower. We have to wrap the curtain around it to keep it from getting wet. I haven't been able to get our washing machine to work just right. But it works well enough. I've sewn and hemmed lots of curtains. We found a couch and crib on Craig's List. We also got a good deal on a table and chairs.
We have also already been somewhat involved in our ward. We've been invited to dinner a few times, we are having a mother and daughter over tonight, we had the missionaries over, we've taken a meal over to a family in need, I've played the piano a few times in the Primary, today we gave talks, and today I played for the ward choir and helped instruct some warm-ups.
So its been good!
And my husband's work is coming together too. He is having to make a lot of adjustments and learn some things, but it is coming along.
I just need to catch up. For a while there, I didn't even have internet to blog with, so that was a challenge. And then I was at my parents. And then I was busy moving in.
So now, I guess I can get the big events down and move on with my life! haha
K, so, after my son was born, we moved to Menan, just a few minutes from school. My husband looked every day for a job. He was gone a lot of the time job-searching and I was trying to take care of myself and my baby. You see, I was having grey-outs and felt like I was going to faint all the time. It wasn't fun. But I couldn't really ask anyone for help, because I didn't know when I was going to feel that way. (The only thing I could do was make lots of doctor appointments, take test after test, wear monitors, more tests...sigh.) Anyway, I was also trying to get organized in that home.
While in Menan, we made a few friends. There was this particular lady and her family who we bonded easily with. She was awesome and was obliged to teach me some new skills: canning fish, making sprout-wheat bread, storing food, etc. I loved that family. They were models.
Then we accepted a job. We would have to move. So I tried to pack up our house as quick as I could while my husband went and found us a place. Then when he came back we saw each other for an afternoon and he took me to the airport. I flew out to be with my Mom for the rest of the holiday season, while he moved us. This way, our baby wouldn't have to endure a hard drive, I would feel taken care of, and he would be able to focus on his new job until he met us at my mom's place.
So we missed each other a lot, but we felt it was the best thing.
While I was visiting home, my mom and I got to spend a lot of time together and she got to know my son better. I really thought that was special. Then my sister and her family arrived. It got even more fun and busy. I think my son enjoyed watching his cousins, but he was scared at first...those boys are loud! Then he got used to the noise. And my sister just loved my son and he really loved her. She could make him smile whenever they crossed paths. It was SO cute. She could get him to giggle out of control!
Both my sister and I talked about how my Dad's absence was terribly felt and how there was a different feeling in our home. He was really missed. At least, the way things used to be. The person he was...
Then my husband and my other sister arrived and we got to enjoy the rest of the time we spent there with almost everyone. We saw my Dad here and there, and he came for family pictures, but we didn't get to spend Christmas with him. That was pretty depressing, to be honest.
On the bright side, we saw our son get excited about Christmas for the first time! I think it was all the colors and the excitement. It was so cute to watch him practically hyperventilate and reach for the new toys. Then he would immediately stuff them in his mouth and gnaw on them. I seriously wondered if he was teething very early.
Before I move on from my home town, I do want to touch on one thing briefly. I was touched by some of the kindness I witnessed. Ward members and friends were aware of what was going on in our family. While some were not very sensitive, others were. My best friend's (in high school) mother and I had been in contact because I had kind of asked her to be a friend to my mom before I had got there. Anyway, she came by the house and "kidnapped" my mom and they had a good talk. Then she and I got together. I thought this was just the sweetest thing. We went to the Cheese Cake Factory and she treated me. She and I talked and though she did want to hear about how my mom was doing, she specifically asked me how I was doing. Though disappointed, sad, frustrated, maybe a little angry, for the most part, at that time, I felt ok. I was more concerned about my mom. But she asked! She cared enough to take me out on a little date and make sure I was ok. I just have to say, she is still one of my heroes. Just goes to show that God lets some people into our lives to help us. We are never alone.
After Christmas, we went to our new home and I have been busy trying to set things up ever since. It is a fun little place, though it isn't so little to us. Its the biggest place we have ever been in. Maybe bigger than the three bedroom trailer we were in before. But it is old and a little funky. We have a random wood cupboard in our shower. We have to wrap the curtain around it to keep it from getting wet. I haven't been able to get our washing machine to work just right. But it works well enough. I've sewn and hemmed lots of curtains. We found a couch and crib on Craig's List. We also got a good deal on a table and chairs.
We have also already been somewhat involved in our ward. We've been invited to dinner a few times, we are having a mother and daughter over tonight, we had the missionaries over, we've taken a meal over to a family in need, I've played the piano a few times in the Primary, today we gave talks, and today I played for the ward choir and helped instruct some warm-ups.
So its been good!
And my husband's work is coming together too. He is having to make a lot of adjustments and learn some things, but it is coming along.
Thursday, September 20, 2012
Little update
Well, a quick update (I hope).
We have moved! We found a trailer with three rooms for a great deal, so we took it. Everything seemed to fall into place and my husband is convinced that we are here for a reason.
My son is a chunk! He eats a whopping 6 oz (that is, if he doesn't fall asleep first..haha). It is crazy, but I can assure you we are just following his cues. I even bought slow flowing nipples to help get the "I'm full" signal to the brain before he consumes too much.
He is also the sweetest little guy. We try to respond to him as much as possible at this young, sensitive age. But we have noticed that he has started to learn to comfort himself. He'll cry, but if we are not fast enough he may just start to complain. (It can go either direction though. If we are not fast enough he may start into hysterics too).
He has the SWEETEST smile. He has started to smile at us. Really. There is not question sometimes that he is smiling at us. He is responsive and his smile is part of his whole body. It wriggles and he almost laughs already!
Anyway, we are so in love with him. He is our little buddy. More on that later.
We have moved! We found a trailer with three rooms for a great deal, so we took it. Everything seemed to fall into place and my husband is convinced that we are here for a reason.
My son is a chunk! He eats a whopping 6 oz (that is, if he doesn't fall asleep first..haha). It is crazy, but I can assure you we are just following his cues. I even bought slow flowing nipples to help get the "I'm full" signal to the brain before he consumes too much.
He is also the sweetest little guy. We try to respond to him as much as possible at this young, sensitive age. But we have noticed that he has started to learn to comfort himself. He'll cry, but if we are not fast enough he may just start to complain. (It can go either direction though. If we are not fast enough he may start into hysterics too).
He has the SWEETEST smile. He has started to smile at us. Really. There is not question sometimes that he is smiling at us. He is responsive and his smile is part of his whole body. It wriggles and he almost laughs already!
Anyway, we are so in love with him. He is our little buddy. More on that later.
NICU
Well, try to my character this one is late and I'm still trying to catch up!
I'll try to make this one short.
A few days after we brought our baby home he developed a high fever. We were really concerned because it seemed as if this was the second time he had had one (the first one was at night and didn't last long). This time he was really upset and it was heart-breaking for us to see him that way. My husband gave him yet another blessing and then we rushed off to the ER.
Unfortunately, the ER was a terrible experience. After we arrived and the doctor was visiting with us, our baby no longer had a fever and he was not crying hysterically like when we left home. We believe this was due to his blessing. But the doctor was not convinced. He was skeptical of our story (which was a little frustrating...but we were positive about what we had witnessed: we had used three different thermometers correctly under the armpit to be sure). But, he assured us that fevers were not to be messed around with in a newborn.
So, right then and there he ordered some tests be done. This was very hard for us as new parents. The nurses in the ER (as wonderful as they are) were not experienced in dealing with little tiny veins. Or little tiny anything for that matter! They were terrible at drawing a blood sample. It was heart-breaking to see them prick our precious little guy over and over again. At one point, they completely missed the mark and the needle went in one way and out the other in his little hand. I was emotionally distraught and I could tell that my husband was getting upset with them. We were about to demand that someone from upstairs should be called down to do it.
When the pediatrician that was called in arrived, he told us our baby should be admitted to the NICU and put on antibiotics until the test results showed up. But we couldn't delay because the tests took days and it was not worth the risk to wait. I did not like putting our little guy on antibiotics at such a young age, but realized it probably was the best choice.
My husband stayed with him while I went home to get medication and pack our bags--we intented to stay with our little son as much as we could.
And we did. The next week or so, we stayed in the NICU in the "contamination" room because they did not whatever our baby had to spread to the other infants. So this worked to our advantage! We could stay with him the whole time. The hospital took really good care of us. They gave me a meals and let me use a breast pump. And the nurses were amazing! They answered our questions and gave us cool parenting tips.
Aside from the worry, probably the worst part of the NICU was the fact that the nearest bathroom was actually outside the labor and delivery unit. So every time I had to go (which seemed to still be often) I had to waddle down the hall with my bag of tricks. It hurt. But maybe it was actually to my benefit in the healing process to do a little exercise like that.
We had some cool experiences while there. For one, we got to observe the monitors while coupling what they said to our son's behavior. I think we got to know him in a way that few parents do. We also took the sacrament in the NICU. It was one of our better spiritual experiences together.
Funny how challenging experiences will bring us closer together. We were tired and stressed. But we learned there that we love each other more than we did before. I got to know my husband in a way I hadn't before. Through the experience I learned that he is willing to do things for me that I thought I would never ask of someone. He is an amazing patriarch of our family that has fulfilled so many roles. I also re-learned that Christ can offer us amazing comfort that we do not understand. Through our trial we had help from family, ward members, and the power of the priesthood. We felt so privileged to be blessed the way we were. We are Never Alone because one way or another, God fulfills our needs--weather it be through other people or uncanny circumstances.
I'll try to make this one short.
A few days after we brought our baby home he developed a high fever. We were really concerned because it seemed as if this was the second time he had had one (the first one was at night and didn't last long). This time he was really upset and it was heart-breaking for us to see him that way. My husband gave him yet another blessing and then we rushed off to the ER.
Unfortunately, the ER was a terrible experience. After we arrived and the doctor was visiting with us, our baby no longer had a fever and he was not crying hysterically like when we left home. We believe this was due to his blessing. But the doctor was not convinced. He was skeptical of our story (which was a little frustrating...but we were positive about what we had witnessed: we had used three different thermometers correctly under the armpit to be sure). But, he assured us that fevers were not to be messed around with in a newborn.
So, right then and there he ordered some tests be done. This was very hard for us as new parents. The nurses in the ER (as wonderful as they are) were not experienced in dealing with little tiny veins. Or little tiny anything for that matter! They were terrible at drawing a blood sample. It was heart-breaking to see them prick our precious little guy over and over again. At one point, they completely missed the mark and the needle went in one way and out the other in his little hand. I was emotionally distraught and I could tell that my husband was getting upset with them. We were about to demand that someone from upstairs should be called down to do it.
When the pediatrician that was called in arrived, he told us our baby should be admitted to the NICU and put on antibiotics until the test results showed up. But we couldn't delay because the tests took days and it was not worth the risk to wait. I did not like putting our little guy on antibiotics at such a young age, but realized it probably was the best choice.
My husband stayed with him while I went home to get medication and pack our bags--we intented to stay with our little son as much as we could.
And we did. The next week or so, we stayed in the NICU in the "contamination" room because they did not whatever our baby had to spread to the other infants. So this worked to our advantage! We could stay with him the whole time. The hospital took really good care of us. They gave me a meals and let me use a breast pump. And the nurses were amazing! They answered our questions and gave us cool parenting tips.
Aside from the worry, probably the worst part of the NICU was the fact that the nearest bathroom was actually outside the labor and delivery unit. So every time I had to go (which seemed to still be often) I had to waddle down the hall with my bag of tricks. It hurt. But maybe it was actually to my benefit in the healing process to do a little exercise like that.
We had some cool experiences while there. For one, we got to observe the monitors while coupling what they said to our son's behavior. I think we got to know him in a way that few parents do. We also took the sacrament in the NICU. It was one of our better spiritual experiences together.
Funny how challenging experiences will bring us closer together. We were tired and stressed. But we learned there that we love each other more than we did before. I got to know my husband in a way I hadn't before. Through the experience I learned that he is willing to do things for me that I thought I would never ask of someone. He is an amazing patriarch of our family that has fulfilled so many roles. I also re-learned that Christ can offer us amazing comfort that we do not understand. Through our trial we had help from family, ward members, and the power of the priesthood. We felt so privileged to be blessed the way we were. We are Never Alone because one way or another, God fulfills our needs--weather it be through other people or uncanny circumstances.
Tuesday, August 28, 2012
Delivery
So, of course, again, I haven't written in a long while! Obviously, some big changes have occurred. My husband and I graduated from college, had a baby, and are now trying to figure our lives out for the next year.
Our son was born August 6th and weighed 9lbs 10oz. He surprised everyone! The nurses who were with us in the labor and delivery room were estimating he would weigh around 7lbs. Boy oh Boy!
I'd like to say that everything ran smoothly, but that was not the case. I was hoping for a natural birth and had practiced different exercises to prepare myself. I thought I had done my research and was pretty prepared for what might happen. I realized that a there were certain things that might happen where a natural birth might be impeding. Going into it I wasn't so extreme as to think that absolutely under no circumstances was I going to accept an epidural, but I was quite determined to go natural.
Well, one night around 2:00 a.m., I woke up (I have no idea how...) and discovered I was all wet. Immediately I thought, "My water broke!" I nudged my husband and told him I was all wet. He was like, "Seriously? Now?" Earlier we had joked that it would be our luck that my water would break in the middle of the night. We were both thinking that it would have been much more convenient if my water had broken during daylight hours.
Well, while I was cleaning up in the bathroom I was getting excited. This was it! My husband came in after calling my mom who was staying next door. He slyly commented, "Well, happy anniversary..." Ha! I had forgotten! This was also something we had joked about happening to us. Well, such is our luck :)
We ran to the hospital to find out that my bag of waters apparently hadn't broken. The nurse suggested there might have been a leak instead and suggested we see our doctor first thing in the morning. So, a little disappointed (but relieved to sleep a little more) we returned home. Following the nurse's advice we made a visit to the doctors office the next morning.
It was a little hard to explain why exactly we were there, but after some time, they put us in a room where I got hooked up to some monitors to measure the baby's heart rate and my contractions. I was amazed to find out that I was having contractions close together! I couldn't even feel them. But when the doctor came to look at the results he pointed out something I had not been looking for: the baby was experiencing decelerations. (This is where the contractions are actually affecting the baby's heart rate.) The doctor made an executive decision right then and there. The baby was overdue (by three days), and could possibly be in distress if we let this go on much further. The baby had to come out. Now. He told us that we needed him to make the "safe landing" and to trust him.
To be honest, I was a little skeptical, but at the same time I did trust him. In our experience with each other I had agreed with him on most points during my pregnancy and I knew how long he had been practicing (and our area, as you can imagine, deals with a lot of pregnancies and deliveries per year). I did trust him enough to agree with him. For the safety of the baby, we had to consent to induction.
I was not fond of the idea because I knew that induction could lead to a harder labor. But at last we agreed that most importantly, we wanted a healthy baby. We trusted the doctor to "land the plane" safely. So, we rushed (Literally. The doctor instructed my mom to get our "hospital" bags for us instead of letting us go home to get them ourselves.) to the hospital's labor and delivery unit. He told us he would meet us in a few minutes.
As we were driving to the hospital I was thinking over what had happened and what was going to happen. This was not going my way. The doctor had orders for me to have internal monitors so he could get more accurate readings. I didn't like the idea because I knew that I would not be able to help my body through labor the way I planned. I wanted to use a birthing ball, possibly get in a warm bath, try different holds and positions. Internal monitors were definitely a hindrance. I was thinking about objecting to the doctor's approach...
But then, most importantly, I had a very distinct impression enter my soul. Yes, it pierced my heart. The thought entered my mind as clear as any command that I was not to let my pride get in the way of this delivery. Of course! I wanted it my way. But maybe my way was not best in this circumstance. I had to sigh and concede. I knew that God was speaking to me, and I needed to listen.
When he did arrive, he broke my bag of waters and told us that he would only add Pitocin if my body didn't have strong enough contractions. I really wanted to avoid this as well because I knew that Pitocin would do the job, but definitely make it harder for me. Luckily, my body did just fine with contractions. It naturally set to work. At first, I still couldn't feel them. But then they intensified. I tried the breathing techniques I had practiced. And they made a HUGE difference. But then it was clear to me, that I did not want to lay down anymore. After some careful maneuvering around wires and the help of a nurse, we got a birthing ball ON my bed that I could lean on. I was limited to what I could actually do with it, but I found that a kneeling position where I could stretch out my torso by leaning with my arms on the ball suited me just fine.
I was in pain, but dealing with this well. I even talked to my dad on the phone while I was in labor! (In between contractions, of course. He had to wait patiently on the phone a few times while I did my breathing technique.) My mom even got me a scented candle to help "overwhelm" (?) the senses. And I listened to soothing music on my phone.
As things progressed I could still feel that I wasn't able to help my body the way I wanted to. So I started to consider an epidural. Why? I could tell I was running out of energy fast. And I knew I needed to conserve energy to push. I tried my hardest to only let the contractions use energy and not concentrate on the pain. Really, I think I was coping well, but I had this feeling that something needed to change.
Again, it came down to my pride. I decided to wait for the nurse to check on me again and tell me how far along we were progressing. After she did, I had to make a judgement call. I prayed. I analyzed. I wanted to do it my way, but I had the feeling that I needed the epidural. Bah! I wrestled with it, but then in my mind it was clear that was what was appropriate for me at this time.
I was lucky in that the lady with the equipment was already on the floor. It only took her five minutes to come in with everything she needed. It only took another five to ten minutes to administer it, and strangely, it took no time at all to take effect. The only thing that I had been dreading was that I knew I was going to have to lay down again and contractions at this point were coming fast and they were much harder to cope with laying down then in my kneeling position. But again, I was blessed because after they laid me down for the allotted time, I didn't feel anything. I was still able to point my toes and even move my legs, but I did not feel the contractions in the least bit.
Lavbor progressed smoothly after that. They suggested I take a nap to conserve energy, and after our adventures that morning, I was happy to oblige. My husband even bunkered down to sleep as well. He slept through all the nurses coming in to check on me and the beeping equipment. He was so out, I remember I was actually afraid he wouldn't wake up when it was time to push. Indeed, he didn't get up till the doctor had been there some time.
When nurses and doctor decided all was ready for me to push, again they detected decelerations. (We later found out that the umbilical chord had been wrapped around my son's neck. That would explain a few things....) So to keep the baby safe (I guess the decelerations weren't bad enough for a cesarian section, but I noticed the doctor closely watching the monitors just in case), the doctor encouraged me to push hard and fast. In our case, the more time we took, the more dangerous for the baby. So, I pushed as hard as I could. I remember trying to focus on the right muscles and giving it everything. The hardest part was trying not to interrupt my pushes to catch my breath.
Well, whatever I was doing was good, but not good enough. I'm not exactly sure how it panned out, but because the baby was big and I was small, I really should have gotten a C-section. But I had already pushed the baby far enough that it was too late. The doctor first tried to use a vacuum, but after four failed attempts he resorted to forceps. I gave him the "OK." I was really hoping not to have to resort to forceps, but I knew that my particular clinic was trained exceptionally well with them. They knew how to use them correctly without hurting the baby. And they didn't hurt the baby all that much. He only suffered a small bruise.
I'm the one that suffered the consequences. Apparently, baby was so big, and I was so small, and we were running out of time, the doctor had to use considerable force on me. I wasn't aware of it at the time because I was just concentrating on pushing so much, but my husband and mom affirm that the doctor was literally lifting me off the bed by the forceps while I pushed. Wow. (I'm not criticizing my doctor because I fully trusted him, I'm just...wow...). Long story long (haha), the baby came out just fine and safe (save a bit of fluid that had to come out) and I ended up getting an episiotomy (that must have happened really fast because I don't remember seeing anything of the kind, and I hadn't forbidden one or consented to one...I think our doctor was just intent on "landing the plane" for us as safe as possible), tearing up and down, I got fourth degree lacerations, and I tore through rectal muscle. One nurse told me it was as if I had torn and gotten a C-section. Clearly, at least in my case, a C-section might have been better. For now, I am still sitting on a doughnut and taking it easy.
But that isn't even the most exciting part about the delivery. The most encouraging words that I heard during the delivery were pronounced by my husband. When I was pushing (it was really hard!) my husband was encouraging me, and then when the baby crowned and started to show, my husband said, "He's here! He's here!" I was so excited and exhausted I was overcome with emotion and the will to try harder. When he was finally out and some fluid removed, he was placed on my chest. Of course he was crying, but it was the most beautiful sound I had ever heard! And he was gorgeous! He was so beautiful! My mom (probably overcome with emotion from seeing her baby go through so much) and I were both in tears. The amazing moment was when he looked up at me and stopped crying. It was love at first sight. He was being rubbed off (they let me help) and then they took him from me to clean him up.
I had instructed my husband to follow the baby wherever they took him. So he got to assist in giving our son his first bath! I was glad. They didn't even take him from my sight. I got to watch the whole thing while I was being stitched up.
Being stitched up was also a scary experience (Mostly for those who were watching. I was too excited to see my son, and I obviously couldn't exactly see what was going on down there). I remember watching the nurses clean up my son from the bed through a gap of nurses. I can't even tell you how many nurses there were in the room, but the doctor was insisting he needed an additional person to assist him. It was nuts. There were four deliveries going on at the same time and all the available nurses were being used, but he was still desperate for one more. One nurse came in the room to tell him he was needed elsewhere and he told her she needed to stay (I think she even came from C-section). Someone else came in asking for a piece of equipment and he told them they would have to wait. But seriously I had at least six people surrounding my bedside and they all had grim faces. My doctor was shaking his head as he tried to stitch me up. Nurses were holding this or that.
I noticed that my blood pressure was still being monitored, but instead of being taken intermittently, it was taken continuously. I have to explain that I absolutely HATE those things. After being hooked up to one of those all day, I so ready to be done with it. And it was so obnoxious! You have to understand when my blood pressure is being taken I have to concentrate on breathing because otherwise I tense up and hold my breathe. I knew that would not be wise right now. So I asked the nurse nearest me if we could just take that thing off. She obviously said no, adding that I was bleeding heavily. That shut me up. I apologized to her if I had "snapped" at her. She told me I hadn't, and if I had I would be well deserving of the privilege.
A little later into the process, I started to feel the stitching. It probably wasn't as bad as it would have been if I had never had an epidural, but it was still painful enough to bring me to tears. I told the nurses (who were not exactly listening to me because they were so occupied with their task), who brought it to the doctor's attention. They asked if I was feeling pulls or an actual acute pain. It was the latter, and I had to stifle my tears to get the words out. They quickly administered more pain killers.
It took the doctor at least an hour to finish. The nurses were shaking their heads telling me I was not allowed to have anymore big babies. And rightfully so: they were slipping in my blood and quite stressed. My room was a beehive of activity. When the doctor was done, he told me that though he was needed elsewhere, he wanted to assure me he had taken his time. I fully believed him. He had remained calm through the whole thing, but had had to stand his ground against other pressing obligations to finish stitching me up. I appreciated him more than ever.
He did stay even longer because my heart rate started to increase quite dramatically (My husband was surprised to learn that the beeping that registered from the monitor was not the baby's heart rate.). He studied the monitor then studied me. At that moment, the nurse had given me my son and was trying to help me breastfeed. I was occupied with the task and sitting up (and I was in heaven with my son in my arms!). Everyone was dumbfounded because the monitors were calling for a blood transfusion, but I was alert. The doctor and the nurses conferred for a minute. They actually took my son from my arms and made me lie down to see if that would make a difference. It must have done the trick because my heartbeat slowed down (it was still fast, but close enough to normal). It was only then that the doctor left me to the care of a nurse.
She had the toughest job of cleaning me up, taking me to recovery, helping me shower and go to the bathroom, and showing me how to care for myself. It was the messiest job. I was sorry that she would be assigned such a task for me. But she was a life saver! I told her I was sorry she had to care for me that way, and she again affirmed to me that I had not had a normal delivery. This usually didn't happen.
During a little down time, my husband asked me if I would like a blessing. I was so exhausted and I was feeling rather sick. I was even light-headed, but I didn't tell anyone. My mom was so worried! And she was solemn. I think I really gave her a scare. She later told me that she thought my color was terrible. She also had seen my feet and told me that they had been the same color as her father's before he had died. No wonder she was so sombre! My husband gave me the second blessing of the day (He later told me he had given me a silent blessing during the delivery.), promising me that I would make a full recovery. It was very comforting at the time. So much had happened and was happening.
The next little while in the hospital was agonizing. And I felt SO fatigued. I was able to stand and walk for short periods, but I felt that at any moment I was going to loose it. It was amazing to me that I somehow found the energy to hold my son. And we were in good spirits. I was trying to make a conscious effort to make the nurse's job easier for her while still getting my needs fulfilled. I felt sad that I could not rise from my bed to care for my son, but grateful that my husband and mom were so on top of things. I never doubted that my son was in good hands.
After another day at the hospital I felt well enough to go home. I had been checked out by our doctor again and my son had been checked out by the pediatrician twice. We were so excited to take our son home and not be disturbed by nurses coming in and out all night and day. I felt at home I could actually get some rest and recover.
I am very convinced that God's hand had been in it. I had been warned about what kind of choices I should make, I felt very blessed to have a very experienced doctor (who I felt was my friend) caring for me, I had more energy than I should have, my son was healthy, and we really grew closer as a family. We also have a strengthened testimony of the priesthood power. Truly we witnessed miracles and blessings. We are Never Alone.
Our son was born August 6th and weighed 9lbs 10oz. He surprised everyone! The nurses who were with us in the labor and delivery room were estimating he would weigh around 7lbs. Boy oh Boy!
I'd like to say that everything ran smoothly, but that was not the case. I was hoping for a natural birth and had practiced different exercises to prepare myself. I thought I had done my research and was pretty prepared for what might happen. I realized that a there were certain things that might happen where a natural birth might be impeding. Going into it I wasn't so extreme as to think that absolutely under no circumstances was I going to accept an epidural, but I was quite determined to go natural.
Well, one night around 2:00 a.m., I woke up (I have no idea how...) and discovered I was all wet. Immediately I thought, "My water broke!" I nudged my husband and told him I was all wet. He was like, "Seriously? Now?" Earlier we had joked that it would be our luck that my water would break in the middle of the night. We were both thinking that it would have been much more convenient if my water had broken during daylight hours.
Well, while I was cleaning up in the bathroom I was getting excited. This was it! My husband came in after calling my mom who was staying next door. He slyly commented, "Well, happy anniversary..." Ha! I had forgotten! This was also something we had joked about happening to us. Well, such is our luck :)
We ran to the hospital to find out that my bag of waters apparently hadn't broken. The nurse suggested there might have been a leak instead and suggested we see our doctor first thing in the morning. So, a little disappointed (but relieved to sleep a little more) we returned home. Following the nurse's advice we made a visit to the doctors office the next morning.
It was a little hard to explain why exactly we were there, but after some time, they put us in a room where I got hooked up to some monitors to measure the baby's heart rate and my contractions. I was amazed to find out that I was having contractions close together! I couldn't even feel them. But when the doctor came to look at the results he pointed out something I had not been looking for: the baby was experiencing decelerations. (This is where the contractions are actually affecting the baby's heart rate.) The doctor made an executive decision right then and there. The baby was overdue (by three days), and could possibly be in distress if we let this go on much further. The baby had to come out. Now. He told us that we needed him to make the "safe landing" and to trust him.
To be honest, I was a little skeptical, but at the same time I did trust him. In our experience with each other I had agreed with him on most points during my pregnancy and I knew how long he had been practicing (and our area, as you can imagine, deals with a lot of pregnancies and deliveries per year). I did trust him enough to agree with him. For the safety of the baby, we had to consent to induction.
I was not fond of the idea because I knew that induction could lead to a harder labor. But at last we agreed that most importantly, we wanted a healthy baby. We trusted the doctor to "land the plane" safely. So, we rushed (Literally. The doctor instructed my mom to get our "hospital" bags for us instead of letting us go home to get them ourselves.) to the hospital's labor and delivery unit. He told us he would meet us in a few minutes.
As we were driving to the hospital I was thinking over what had happened and what was going to happen. This was not going my way. The doctor had orders for me to have internal monitors so he could get more accurate readings. I didn't like the idea because I knew that I would not be able to help my body through labor the way I planned. I wanted to use a birthing ball, possibly get in a warm bath, try different holds and positions. Internal monitors were definitely a hindrance. I was thinking about objecting to the doctor's approach...
But then, most importantly, I had a very distinct impression enter my soul. Yes, it pierced my heart. The thought entered my mind as clear as any command that I was not to let my pride get in the way of this delivery. Of course! I wanted it my way. But maybe my way was not best in this circumstance. I had to sigh and concede. I knew that God was speaking to me, and I needed to listen.
When he did arrive, he broke my bag of waters and told us that he would only add Pitocin if my body didn't have strong enough contractions. I really wanted to avoid this as well because I knew that Pitocin would do the job, but definitely make it harder for me. Luckily, my body did just fine with contractions. It naturally set to work. At first, I still couldn't feel them. But then they intensified. I tried the breathing techniques I had practiced. And they made a HUGE difference. But then it was clear to me, that I did not want to lay down anymore. After some careful maneuvering around wires and the help of a nurse, we got a birthing ball ON my bed that I could lean on. I was limited to what I could actually do with it, but I found that a kneeling position where I could stretch out my torso by leaning with my arms on the ball suited me just fine.
I was in pain, but dealing with this well. I even talked to my dad on the phone while I was in labor! (In between contractions, of course. He had to wait patiently on the phone a few times while I did my breathing technique.) My mom even got me a scented candle to help "overwhelm" (?) the senses. And I listened to soothing music on my phone.
As things progressed I could still feel that I wasn't able to help my body the way I wanted to. So I started to consider an epidural. Why? I could tell I was running out of energy fast. And I knew I needed to conserve energy to push. I tried my hardest to only let the contractions use energy and not concentrate on the pain. Really, I think I was coping well, but I had this feeling that something needed to change.
Again, it came down to my pride. I decided to wait for the nurse to check on me again and tell me how far along we were progressing. After she did, I had to make a judgement call. I prayed. I analyzed. I wanted to do it my way, but I had the feeling that I needed the epidural. Bah! I wrestled with it, but then in my mind it was clear that was what was appropriate for me at this time.
I was lucky in that the lady with the equipment was already on the floor. It only took her five minutes to come in with everything she needed. It only took another five to ten minutes to administer it, and strangely, it took no time at all to take effect. The only thing that I had been dreading was that I knew I was going to have to lay down again and contractions at this point were coming fast and they were much harder to cope with laying down then in my kneeling position. But again, I was blessed because after they laid me down for the allotted time, I didn't feel anything. I was still able to point my toes and even move my legs, but I did not feel the contractions in the least bit.
Lavbor progressed smoothly after that. They suggested I take a nap to conserve energy, and after our adventures that morning, I was happy to oblige. My husband even bunkered down to sleep as well. He slept through all the nurses coming in to check on me and the beeping equipment. He was so out, I remember I was actually afraid he wouldn't wake up when it was time to push. Indeed, he didn't get up till the doctor had been there some time.
When nurses and doctor decided all was ready for me to push, again they detected decelerations. (We later found out that the umbilical chord had been wrapped around my son's neck. That would explain a few things....) So to keep the baby safe (I guess the decelerations weren't bad enough for a cesarian section, but I noticed the doctor closely watching the monitors just in case), the doctor encouraged me to push hard and fast. In our case, the more time we took, the more dangerous for the baby. So, I pushed as hard as I could. I remember trying to focus on the right muscles and giving it everything. The hardest part was trying not to interrupt my pushes to catch my breath.
Well, whatever I was doing was good, but not good enough. I'm not exactly sure how it panned out, but because the baby was big and I was small, I really should have gotten a C-section. But I had already pushed the baby far enough that it was too late. The doctor first tried to use a vacuum, but after four failed attempts he resorted to forceps. I gave him the "OK." I was really hoping not to have to resort to forceps, but I knew that my particular clinic was trained exceptionally well with them. They knew how to use them correctly without hurting the baby. And they didn't hurt the baby all that much. He only suffered a small bruise.
I'm the one that suffered the consequences. Apparently, baby was so big, and I was so small, and we were running out of time, the doctor had to use considerable force on me. I wasn't aware of it at the time because I was just concentrating on pushing so much, but my husband and mom affirm that the doctor was literally lifting me off the bed by the forceps while I pushed. Wow. (I'm not criticizing my doctor because I fully trusted him, I'm just...wow...). Long story long (haha), the baby came out just fine and safe (save a bit of fluid that had to come out) and I ended up getting an episiotomy (that must have happened really fast because I don't remember seeing anything of the kind, and I hadn't forbidden one or consented to one...I think our doctor was just intent on "landing the plane" for us as safe as possible), tearing up and down, I got fourth degree lacerations, and I tore through rectal muscle. One nurse told me it was as if I had torn and gotten a C-section. Clearly, at least in my case, a C-section might have been better. For now, I am still sitting on a doughnut and taking it easy.
But that isn't even the most exciting part about the delivery. The most encouraging words that I heard during the delivery were pronounced by my husband. When I was pushing (it was really hard!) my husband was encouraging me, and then when the baby crowned and started to show, my husband said, "He's here! He's here!" I was so excited and exhausted I was overcome with emotion and the will to try harder. When he was finally out and some fluid removed, he was placed on my chest. Of course he was crying, but it was the most beautiful sound I had ever heard! And he was gorgeous! He was so beautiful! My mom (probably overcome with emotion from seeing her baby go through so much) and I were both in tears. The amazing moment was when he looked up at me and stopped crying. It was love at first sight. He was being rubbed off (they let me help) and then they took him from me to clean him up.
I had instructed my husband to follow the baby wherever they took him. So he got to assist in giving our son his first bath! I was glad. They didn't even take him from my sight. I got to watch the whole thing while I was being stitched up.
Being stitched up was also a scary experience (Mostly for those who were watching. I was too excited to see my son, and I obviously couldn't exactly see what was going on down there). I remember watching the nurses clean up my son from the bed through a gap of nurses. I can't even tell you how many nurses there were in the room, but the doctor was insisting he needed an additional person to assist him. It was nuts. There were four deliveries going on at the same time and all the available nurses were being used, but he was still desperate for one more. One nurse came in the room to tell him he was needed elsewhere and he told her she needed to stay (I think she even came from C-section). Someone else came in asking for a piece of equipment and he told them they would have to wait. But seriously I had at least six people surrounding my bedside and they all had grim faces. My doctor was shaking his head as he tried to stitch me up. Nurses were holding this or that.
I noticed that my blood pressure was still being monitored, but instead of being taken intermittently, it was taken continuously. I have to explain that I absolutely HATE those things. After being hooked up to one of those all day, I so ready to be done with it. And it was so obnoxious! You have to understand when my blood pressure is being taken I have to concentrate on breathing because otherwise I tense up and hold my breathe. I knew that would not be wise right now. So I asked the nurse nearest me if we could just take that thing off. She obviously said no, adding that I was bleeding heavily. That shut me up. I apologized to her if I had "snapped" at her. She told me I hadn't, and if I had I would be well deserving of the privilege.
A little later into the process, I started to feel the stitching. It probably wasn't as bad as it would have been if I had never had an epidural, but it was still painful enough to bring me to tears. I told the nurses (who were not exactly listening to me because they were so occupied with their task), who brought it to the doctor's attention. They asked if I was feeling pulls or an actual acute pain. It was the latter, and I had to stifle my tears to get the words out. They quickly administered more pain killers.
It took the doctor at least an hour to finish. The nurses were shaking their heads telling me I was not allowed to have anymore big babies. And rightfully so: they were slipping in my blood and quite stressed. My room was a beehive of activity. When the doctor was done, he told me that though he was needed elsewhere, he wanted to assure me he had taken his time. I fully believed him. He had remained calm through the whole thing, but had had to stand his ground against other pressing obligations to finish stitching me up. I appreciated him more than ever.
He did stay even longer because my heart rate started to increase quite dramatically (My husband was surprised to learn that the beeping that registered from the monitor was not the baby's heart rate.). He studied the monitor then studied me. At that moment, the nurse had given me my son and was trying to help me breastfeed. I was occupied with the task and sitting up (and I was in heaven with my son in my arms!). Everyone was dumbfounded because the monitors were calling for a blood transfusion, but I was alert. The doctor and the nurses conferred for a minute. They actually took my son from my arms and made me lie down to see if that would make a difference. It must have done the trick because my heartbeat slowed down (it was still fast, but close enough to normal). It was only then that the doctor left me to the care of a nurse.
She had the toughest job of cleaning me up, taking me to recovery, helping me shower and go to the bathroom, and showing me how to care for myself. It was the messiest job. I was sorry that she would be assigned such a task for me. But she was a life saver! I told her I was sorry she had to care for me that way, and she again affirmed to me that I had not had a normal delivery. This usually didn't happen.
During a little down time, my husband asked me if I would like a blessing. I was so exhausted and I was feeling rather sick. I was even light-headed, but I didn't tell anyone. My mom was so worried! And she was solemn. I think I really gave her a scare. She later told me that she thought my color was terrible. She also had seen my feet and told me that they had been the same color as her father's before he had died. No wonder she was so sombre! My husband gave me the second blessing of the day (He later told me he had given me a silent blessing during the delivery.), promising me that I would make a full recovery. It was very comforting at the time. So much had happened and was happening.
The next little while in the hospital was agonizing. And I felt SO fatigued. I was able to stand and walk for short periods, but I felt that at any moment I was going to loose it. It was amazing to me that I somehow found the energy to hold my son. And we were in good spirits. I was trying to make a conscious effort to make the nurse's job easier for her while still getting my needs fulfilled. I felt sad that I could not rise from my bed to care for my son, but grateful that my husband and mom were so on top of things. I never doubted that my son was in good hands.
After another day at the hospital I felt well enough to go home. I had been checked out by our doctor again and my son had been checked out by the pediatrician twice. We were so excited to take our son home and not be disturbed by nurses coming in and out all night and day. I felt at home I could actually get some rest and recover.
I am very convinced that God's hand had been in it. I had been warned about what kind of choices I should make, I felt very blessed to have a very experienced doctor (who I felt was my friend) caring for me, I had more energy than I should have, my son was healthy, and we really grew closer as a family. We also have a strengthened testimony of the priesthood power. Truly we witnessed miracles and blessings. We are Never Alone.
Sunday, April 15, 2012
Baby Update
I am now 24 weeks pregnant!
We have had two ultrasounds now and with each one nothing harmful or abnormal has been detected. I already think our baby is just so darn cute! Also, each ultrasound has revealed that our baby may be more developed then 24 weeks. Its more like we are a week or so ahead.
Also this month, I've read that our baby will double his weight. I believe it! For the longest time I did not seem to show, but then in the last few weeks, he just popped out of nowhere! (Oh, btw, its a boy!) I have a little round belly now. And what a kicker! He just is so active and strong. I have a silly fear that he is going to be one of those boys that I will have to chase around all the time! haha
So far we haven't bought any baby things, but I have made a hooded bath towel for him and am in the process of making his blessing outfit (if everything goes well...). I've been doing "research" on car seats and haven't gotten around to much else, though I have a pretty solid list of things we are going to need. I showed my husband and he was left wondering what we needed all that stuff for! haha. "Why do we need this?....Oh..." I told him a baby would be expensive!
To be honest, I think we are both scared and excited. We are excited to see just who will be the next member of our little family, but intimidated by the overwhelming responsibility. But, at the same time, though I am inexperienced I feel somewhat prepared from all my child development classes. But time will only tell how those have benefited me. Facts aren't everything.
Being my second trimester, I am feeling much better. Just little things bother me here and there, but nothing big. I just hope I can keep breathing until my senior recital!
We have had two ultrasounds now and with each one nothing harmful or abnormal has been detected. I already think our baby is just so darn cute! Also, each ultrasound has revealed that our baby may be more developed then 24 weeks. Its more like we are a week or so ahead.
Also this month, I've read that our baby will double his weight. I believe it! For the longest time I did not seem to show, but then in the last few weeks, he just popped out of nowhere! (Oh, btw, its a boy!) I have a little round belly now. And what a kicker! He just is so active and strong. I have a silly fear that he is going to be one of those boys that I will have to chase around all the time! haha
So far we haven't bought any baby things, but I have made a hooded bath towel for him and am in the process of making his blessing outfit (if everything goes well...). I've been doing "research" on car seats and haven't gotten around to much else, though I have a pretty solid list of things we are going to need. I showed my husband and he was left wondering what we needed all that stuff for! haha. "Why do we need this?....Oh..." I told him a baby would be expensive!
To be honest, I think we are both scared and excited. We are excited to see just who will be the next member of our little family, but intimidated by the overwhelming responsibility. But, at the same time, though I am inexperienced I feel somewhat prepared from all my child development classes. But time will only tell how those have benefited me. Facts aren't everything.
Being my second trimester, I am feeling much better. Just little things bother me here and there, but nothing big. I just hope I can keep breathing until my senior recital!
Collegiate Events
This past semester Collegiate was once again invited to sing with the Mormon Tabernacle Choir in Music and the Spoken word. We were also invited to sing at the President's Club banquet in Salt Lake. Also, we participated in the sacred music tour. We also held a high school invitational where we invited four or so different high schools to participate in workshops and sing in concert with us. It was a big semester!
I'll try to keep it brief...High school invitationals are always fun because youth are so fun (or bratty--it seems like you always get one or the other. haha)! I enjoyed talking with them and telling them about the college and music program. Also singing with them and hearing them sing was a wonderful occasion. Perhaps the high-light of the whole thing was after the concert I happened to run into the conductor of one of the choirs. This particular choir had been AMAZING! They really reminded me of my own high school choir back at home. I mean, they were good! So, I told him that he did an excellent job with his choir and that he should be proud of his work with them. He looked very familiar to me, but I thought that was only because he had a face that resembled someone else I knew. But then he told me he recognized me too...After a while we figured out that he had been my bus driver when I took the church history trip I had taken back in high school! Wow! I had been one of 30 or so teenagers on his bus years ago, and he remembered me. I then realized that I did not recognize him because it appeared he had lost some weight. He did really look different. I am still blown away that it is such a small world!
Now the sacred music tour project was once again successful. This is a production that the university does every two years. They ask a composer years in advance to compose an orotorio. Then the combined choirs usually go on a short tour and perform the whole thing with the orchestra. It has been a beautiful experience in the past. This time was no different. Except for the fact that I had trouble standing for so long being pregnant. In one of our dress rehearsals in the I-center we were doing a full run through for the cameras so they had editing material if something went wrong the night of the performance. I actually felt like I had to sit down or I was going to faint! That is a new thing for me. But I waited until I felt the cameras were pointed some place else and then sat down. It was just a little frightening. But I was just fine for all the other performances.
We ended up touring in the tabernacle on temple square. We had a full audience and Elder Ballard came! He was probably in the best seat of the house--right in the middle. After the performance as the women were filling into the tunnels, it was announced that he was in the tunnel conversing with some of the girls. The tunnel was so clogged, so I did not get to see him, but apparently he told us that we did a wonderful job and thank you. Then he rode away in a golf cart. I thought it was so sweet that though it was the end of the day and he must have been tired, he still took the time to congratulate us.
Singing at the President's Club Banquet is always a pleasure for me. Again, President Eyring was there with his wife, son, and his wife. While we sang, I was touched with how President Eyring made sure he got to see every single face. He was so engaged and attentive to what we were singing. I am not used to SUCH a captive audience! It was very sweet and humbling. As always, I felt the spirit when we walked in the room.
Apostles and prophets are people just like you and I. They are human and have human personalities. But they definitely wear the mantel of their calling. It shows.
Singing with the Mormon Tabernacle Choir was also a pleasure. We were able to sing a few numbers with them and a few of our own. Here we were, undergraduates, and we got to sing with one of the best choirs in the world! Again, I was amazed at the lightness of their voices and how well they blended! Amazing. They were very complimentary of us, telling us how we sang better or just as well as other choirs that came to sing with them. They commented on our intonation and power. It was very nice of them. They were also very chatty and genuinely seemed interested in our places of origin. They also were so kind and had prepared a basket of cookies for us to eat. So sweet!
After the performance I had the opportunity to meet with my uncle and grandma. It again seemed weird that Grandpa was not with us. We had a few hours to chat and take pictures. Though we didn't really get to DO anything I was grateful because I have hardly ever had one-on-one time with my Grandma. When making Salt Lake visits I have usually been with family members, and now, a spouse!
So that is it in a nutshell! It is sad to realize this has been my last semester in collegiate (next semester I have to take a class during the collegiate class time)! I am going to miss it very much. Collegiate has been a family away from family--full of fun laughter, support, and many opportunities to develop a stronger testimony. During my time in the choir I have been able to form bonds and friendships that would not have been made otherwise. I also would not have learned so much about music! I am going to miss it very much.
But even though I will not be in it next semester, I know I am still part of the collegiate "family." Truly, I am Never Alone!
I'll try to keep it brief...High school invitationals are always fun because youth are so fun (or bratty--it seems like you always get one or the other. haha)! I enjoyed talking with them and telling them about the college and music program. Also singing with them and hearing them sing was a wonderful occasion. Perhaps the high-light of the whole thing was after the concert I happened to run into the conductor of one of the choirs. This particular choir had been AMAZING! They really reminded me of my own high school choir back at home. I mean, they were good! So, I told him that he did an excellent job with his choir and that he should be proud of his work with them. He looked very familiar to me, but I thought that was only because he had a face that resembled someone else I knew. But then he told me he recognized me too...After a while we figured out that he had been my bus driver when I took the church history trip I had taken back in high school! Wow! I had been one of 30 or so teenagers on his bus years ago, and he remembered me. I then realized that I did not recognize him because it appeared he had lost some weight. He did really look different. I am still blown away that it is such a small world!
Now the sacred music tour project was once again successful. This is a production that the university does every two years. They ask a composer years in advance to compose an orotorio. Then the combined choirs usually go on a short tour and perform the whole thing with the orchestra. It has been a beautiful experience in the past. This time was no different. Except for the fact that I had trouble standing for so long being pregnant. In one of our dress rehearsals in the I-center we were doing a full run through for the cameras so they had editing material if something went wrong the night of the performance. I actually felt like I had to sit down or I was going to faint! That is a new thing for me. But I waited until I felt the cameras were pointed some place else and then sat down. It was just a little frightening. But I was just fine for all the other performances.
We ended up touring in the tabernacle on temple square. We had a full audience and Elder Ballard came! He was probably in the best seat of the house--right in the middle. After the performance as the women were filling into the tunnels, it was announced that he was in the tunnel conversing with some of the girls. The tunnel was so clogged, so I did not get to see him, but apparently he told us that we did a wonderful job and thank you. Then he rode away in a golf cart. I thought it was so sweet that though it was the end of the day and he must have been tired, he still took the time to congratulate us.
Singing at the President's Club Banquet is always a pleasure for me. Again, President Eyring was there with his wife, son, and his wife. While we sang, I was touched with how President Eyring made sure he got to see every single face. He was so engaged and attentive to what we were singing. I am not used to SUCH a captive audience! It was very sweet and humbling. As always, I felt the spirit when we walked in the room.
Apostles and prophets are people just like you and I. They are human and have human personalities. But they definitely wear the mantel of their calling. It shows.
Singing with the Mormon Tabernacle Choir was also a pleasure. We were able to sing a few numbers with them and a few of our own. Here we were, undergraduates, and we got to sing with one of the best choirs in the world! Again, I was amazed at the lightness of their voices and how well they blended! Amazing. They were very complimentary of us, telling us how we sang better or just as well as other choirs that came to sing with them. They commented on our intonation and power. It was very nice of them. They were also very chatty and genuinely seemed interested in our places of origin. They also were so kind and had prepared a basket of cookies for us to eat. So sweet!
After the performance I had the opportunity to meet with my uncle and grandma. It again seemed weird that Grandpa was not with us. We had a few hours to chat and take pictures. Though we didn't really get to DO anything I was grateful because I have hardly ever had one-on-one time with my Grandma. When making Salt Lake visits I have usually been with family members, and now, a spouse!
So that is it in a nutshell! It is sad to realize this has been my last semester in collegiate (next semester I have to take a class during the collegiate class time)! I am going to miss it very much. Collegiate has been a family away from family--full of fun laughter, support, and many opportunities to develop a stronger testimony. During my time in the choir I have been able to form bonds and friendships that would not have been made otherwise. I also would not have learned so much about music! I am going to miss it very much.
But even though I will not be in it next semester, I know I am still part of the collegiate "family." Truly, I am Never Alone!
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