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.
Thursday, September 20, 2012
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!
Example of Fatih
Wow, I seriously have so much to catch up on! I first want to talk about the passing of my grandpa. This was, I think, the fifth funeral I attended, but each time I go, I feel like the person I am going for is closer to me. I loved my great-grandparents and my grandma on my dad's side (heaven knows I still think about her and miss her), but growing up I was able to see the grandpa on my mother's side the more.
For me (and everyone else), it happened so suddenly. So suddenly I didn't really have time to think about it or pay him a visit like I wanted to until I was there in Salt Lake. I think I came to really understand what a funeral was about. I needed closure. It didn't seem real.
When we arrived there we were swept up in the bustle of things. Family members were arriving, I thought my mom and I could go maternity clothes shopping since we didn't get to around Christmas time, I was struggling a little bit with morning sickness, and my sisters and I wanted to help Grandma out. You know, a lot of the time it seemed like Grandpa must have still been in the house. I obviously knew the occasion of our visit, but I kept thinking that Grandpa was downstairs in his room like he usually was on our visits. It was strange to realize he wasn't there, and I couldn't look forward to him being in this house again.
I thought the funeral service and viewing as a whole was wonderful. The grandchildren sang, the children sang, there were wonderful talks given about Grandpa. The funeral home treated us all very well. The dinner provided to us was delicious. The whole atmosphere was one in which we were grieving a loss because we would all miss Grandpa, but we were happy he was in a better place and happy to be together as a family. I remember sitting in the pews with my husband and the grandchildren were playing with one of my nephews. They were giggling and adoring the little guy. My husband leaned over and told me how Grandpa would probably be very happy to see that right now. That was what this life is all about--family. And what a wonderful posterity he has!
I was quite a bit emotional during the viewing. One sweet old man approached me and told me how he will never forget how he and his family had moved into the ward and Grandpa had so warmly welcomed them into the ward. I said something about how that sounded a lot like Grandpa and then teared up. The poor guy realized he made me cry and quickly hurried away. I felt bad I had made him feel guilty because I really did appreciate hearing that story about my grandpa. He really was a wonderful example to all.
I kept noticing teachings of my grandpa that were passed down to me during his life sketch. My mother would tell us the same things growing up. Like "the truth always comes out." As a child this helped me be honest. As I grew older this saying helped me understand that my good works would have their reward in the end--no need for public recognition. As an adult, this saying helps me be more diligent in a world whose morals are quickly deteriorating.
Grandpa also used to say, " what good is the old stock if the new stock isn't any better?" Mom would use this principle in her own parenting. She would tell us how well we were doing in different aspects of our lives and tell us she was doing her job since she was being "outdone." I still believe she is no where close to being "outdone." She is still a shining example to me. But she seemed to think that because we were excelling in areas in our development better than she was, she was on the right track. I am so grateful for her sacrifice and for Grandpa's teachings in this matter. They are an inspiration to me in my own goals as a future (very soon!) parent.
It was also joked about how Grandpa loved sweets. I definitely inherited this trait. At times I do (though not so secretly) stalk up on sweet snacks! He also passed down his love of the outdoors to me. He just enjoyed being outside. I am also one of those people that just enjoy a good walk.
Anyway, the list goes on. I am grateful to grandpa for being the kind of person I can look up to emulate in my own family. He was always so generous and loving towards people. I have always admired his acts of service and learned to love to serve those around me as he did. I have been blessed to be so supported in by family members. In this way, I know I am Never Alone.
For me (and everyone else), it happened so suddenly. So suddenly I didn't really have time to think about it or pay him a visit like I wanted to until I was there in Salt Lake. I think I came to really understand what a funeral was about. I needed closure. It didn't seem real.
When we arrived there we were swept up in the bustle of things. Family members were arriving, I thought my mom and I could go maternity clothes shopping since we didn't get to around Christmas time, I was struggling a little bit with morning sickness, and my sisters and I wanted to help Grandma out. You know, a lot of the time it seemed like Grandpa must have still been in the house. I obviously knew the occasion of our visit, but I kept thinking that Grandpa was downstairs in his room like he usually was on our visits. It was strange to realize he wasn't there, and I couldn't look forward to him being in this house again.
I thought the funeral service and viewing as a whole was wonderful. The grandchildren sang, the children sang, there were wonderful talks given about Grandpa. The funeral home treated us all very well. The dinner provided to us was delicious. The whole atmosphere was one in which we were grieving a loss because we would all miss Grandpa, but we were happy he was in a better place and happy to be together as a family. I remember sitting in the pews with my husband and the grandchildren were playing with one of my nephews. They were giggling and adoring the little guy. My husband leaned over and told me how Grandpa would probably be very happy to see that right now. That was what this life is all about--family. And what a wonderful posterity he has!
I was quite a bit emotional during the viewing. One sweet old man approached me and told me how he will never forget how he and his family had moved into the ward and Grandpa had so warmly welcomed them into the ward. I said something about how that sounded a lot like Grandpa and then teared up. The poor guy realized he made me cry and quickly hurried away. I felt bad I had made him feel guilty because I really did appreciate hearing that story about my grandpa. He really was a wonderful example to all.
I kept noticing teachings of my grandpa that were passed down to me during his life sketch. My mother would tell us the same things growing up. Like "the truth always comes out." As a child this helped me be honest. As I grew older this saying helped me understand that my good works would have their reward in the end--no need for public recognition. As an adult, this saying helps me be more diligent in a world whose morals are quickly deteriorating.
Grandpa also used to say, " what good is the old stock if the new stock isn't any better?" Mom would use this principle in her own parenting. She would tell us how well we were doing in different aspects of our lives and tell us she was doing her job since she was being "outdone." I still believe she is no where close to being "outdone." She is still a shining example to me. But she seemed to think that because we were excelling in areas in our development better than she was, she was on the right track. I am so grateful for her sacrifice and for Grandpa's teachings in this matter. They are an inspiration to me in my own goals as a future (very soon!) parent.
It was also joked about how Grandpa loved sweets. I definitely inherited this trait. At times I do (though not so secretly) stalk up on sweet snacks! He also passed down his love of the outdoors to me. He just enjoyed being outside. I am also one of those people that just enjoy a good walk.
Anyway, the list goes on. I am grateful to grandpa for being the kind of person I can look up to emulate in my own family. He was always so generous and loving towards people. I have always admired his acts of service and learned to love to serve those around me as he did. I have been blessed to be so supported in by family members. In this way, I know I am Never Alone.
Sunday, February 5, 2012
First Baby!
Its about time I actually posted about current events. This is a big one! I'm pregnant! 14 weeks to be precise. I don't mind sharing how this came to be because it is nothing short of a miracle (in my mind at least).
We had thought about the possibility of trying for a baby for sometime, but it didn't seem right. Then last summer I calculated that we could probably have a baby before I graduate and before my big senior recital--that is, if we got pregnant right away. Otherwise, it seemed it would be too late. I think that is when I had a chemical pregnancy. So nothing came of that and we were short on time. So we didn't try the next month. It was important to us that we get our degrees. We knew that they would benefit our family in more than just monetary value.
Then I didn't feel completely right about our decision to wait. I can't explain the feeling, but I've had those kinds of feelings before, and I recognized the source. I knew that if we tried again, we would ultimately risk my degree of choice since we probably weren't going to stick around just for me to finish my last few classes. I would still graduate with A degree, but not necessarily the one I wanted. But God was speaking to me. I had to obey. I told my husband about it, and so we started to try again.
Five months went by. Nothing happened. I was beginning to feel concerned. This was supposed to be the most fertile time of my life, right? Were we supposed to try to get pregnant just so I could find out something was wrong with me so we could get pregnant at a later date? For all I knew (yes, I was thinking dramatically...) this was all so I could go see a doctor and find out I had cancer or something that needed to be taken care of.
The next month we conceived. I was really relieved...and excited! I did the math and figured out that we would have the baby right after we were scheduled to graduate. Wow. It was perfect.
I can't help but think that during this time my faith was being tested. This pregnancy could have messed with my whole degree plan. Four years of hard work! But we moved forward in faith despite all that because of a very special prompting. It was one of those moments where I echo Joseph Smith: "I knew it, and I knew that God knew it." Then because of our faith, we were rewarded tremendously. The timing couldn't have been better.
So yes, I'm experiencing morning sickness, and all kinds of other symptoms. I won't bore everyone with the list. I think that my morning sickness is getting better, though I'm still really frustrated with food in general and my "turbulent tummy." I really want to be done with this stage...
Yes, its been challenging to balance my new physical needs with school. I've only stayed home from school a couple of times. Mostly, I've been able to attend all my classes and get my assignments done. Pregnancy really creates a new time restraint because now I'm limited in the amount of time I'm still ticking. I have to find time to take naps during the day. I've been able to achieve straight A's the last few semesters, but I think I've come to accept that this semester may be different. I don't like the thought, but I like the thought of having a healthy baby more.
The exciting thing is that we've been able to witness one ultrasound and listen to the heartbeat. Both times they said the heartbeat was were it should be. In the ultrasound, at 10 weeks, we saw the baby moving around like crazy! My husband says he or she was just dancing around. It really did look like out baby was a pretty serious break-dancer (hah j/k)! I've been reading that sometimes an active baby means a healthy baby. They also said that our baby appeared to be about four days ahead of schedule, but it wasn't anything to get too excited about. I'm under the impression that our baby will come around the expected due date anyway. Also, I am measuring "perfect."
Ok, so funny story: The first time we went in for an appointment, the scale in the office matched our scale at home. Then over the course of a month, I started to notice that it looked like I was loosing weight. I knew that some women did loose weight in the first trimester due to morning sickness, but I was eating regularly and I wasn't throwing up all that often. I thought maybe this was due to a change in diet, since there were certain foods I just couldn't seem to eat anymore. I started to get concerned when I "lost" around ten pounds. At my next appointment I had gained a couple pounds. Relief! That's about where I needed to be. Not too much, not to little at this point. It seems our scale had slowly broken. It is off by ten pounds!
In any case, it seems that we are doing really well. We are busy with school, but healthy. We are very excited and terrified to be parents. I read everything I can get my hands on. I feel very humbled that God made things turn out "just right" the way he did. It is yet another testimony to me that we are Never Alone!
We had thought about the possibility of trying for a baby for sometime, but it didn't seem right. Then last summer I calculated that we could probably have a baby before I graduate and before my big senior recital--that is, if we got pregnant right away. Otherwise, it seemed it would be too late. I think that is when I had a chemical pregnancy. So nothing came of that and we were short on time. So we didn't try the next month. It was important to us that we get our degrees. We knew that they would benefit our family in more than just monetary value.
Then I didn't feel completely right about our decision to wait. I can't explain the feeling, but I've had those kinds of feelings before, and I recognized the source. I knew that if we tried again, we would ultimately risk my degree of choice since we probably weren't going to stick around just for me to finish my last few classes. I would still graduate with A degree, but not necessarily the one I wanted. But God was speaking to me. I had to obey. I told my husband about it, and so we started to try again.
Five months went by. Nothing happened. I was beginning to feel concerned. This was supposed to be the most fertile time of my life, right? Were we supposed to try to get pregnant just so I could find out something was wrong with me so we could get pregnant at a later date? For all I knew (yes, I was thinking dramatically...) this was all so I could go see a doctor and find out I had cancer or something that needed to be taken care of.
The next month we conceived. I was really relieved...and excited! I did the math and figured out that we would have the baby right after we were scheduled to graduate. Wow. It was perfect.
I can't help but think that during this time my faith was being tested. This pregnancy could have messed with my whole degree plan. Four years of hard work! But we moved forward in faith despite all that because of a very special prompting. It was one of those moments where I echo Joseph Smith: "I knew it, and I knew that God knew it." Then because of our faith, we were rewarded tremendously. The timing couldn't have been better.
So yes, I'm experiencing morning sickness, and all kinds of other symptoms. I won't bore everyone with the list. I think that my morning sickness is getting better, though I'm still really frustrated with food in general and my "turbulent tummy." I really want to be done with this stage...
Yes, its been challenging to balance my new physical needs with school. I've only stayed home from school a couple of times. Mostly, I've been able to attend all my classes and get my assignments done. Pregnancy really creates a new time restraint because now I'm limited in the amount of time I'm still ticking. I have to find time to take naps during the day. I've been able to achieve straight A's the last few semesters, but I think I've come to accept that this semester may be different. I don't like the thought, but I like the thought of having a healthy baby more.
The exciting thing is that we've been able to witness one ultrasound and listen to the heartbeat. Both times they said the heartbeat was were it should be. In the ultrasound, at 10 weeks, we saw the baby moving around like crazy! My husband says he or she was just dancing around. It really did look like out baby was a pretty serious break-dancer (hah j/k)! I've been reading that sometimes an active baby means a healthy baby. They also said that our baby appeared to be about four days ahead of schedule, but it wasn't anything to get too excited about. I'm under the impression that our baby will come around the expected due date anyway. Also, I am measuring "perfect."
Ok, so funny story: The first time we went in for an appointment, the scale in the office matched our scale at home. Then over the course of a month, I started to notice that it looked like I was loosing weight. I knew that some women did loose weight in the first trimester due to morning sickness, but I was eating regularly and I wasn't throwing up all that often. I thought maybe this was due to a change in diet, since there were certain foods I just couldn't seem to eat anymore. I started to get concerned when I "lost" around ten pounds. At my next appointment I had gained a couple pounds. Relief! That's about where I needed to be. Not too much, not to little at this point. It seems our scale had slowly broken. It is off by ten pounds!
In any case, it seems that we are doing really well. We are busy with school, but healthy. We are very excited and terrified to be parents. I read everything I can get my hands on. I feel very humbled that God made things turn out "just right" the way he did. It is yet another testimony to me that we are Never Alone!
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