Thursday, September 29, 2011

Haiku Thursday

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Source

If you'd like to participate in Haiku Thursday, let me know in my comments so I can come see yours too! And, if you need a little extra help in the poetry department: a haiku is a short poem consisting of three lines; the first line having 5 syllables, the second 7, and the third 5.

This week's haiku actually has a title: Neglect

I miss the old days
Where I was the big star here,
Not her and her feet.

~Tuna
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It's not even a good or clear picture of her little foot, but Tuna's face is priceless.

Wednesday, September 28, 2011

The Things I Do For You

I have a feeling that this is going to be a regular topic on this blog now that I'm a mommy and (sorta) selfless. Because giving Charley the absolute best I can give her is on the forefront of my mind, and sometimes I am going to have to do some pretty crazy things in order to do that for her. But, I'd say she's worth it.
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So, this edition of 'The Things I Do For You' comes from Charley's very first week. I am breastfeeding Charley, and I was well aware that the first few weeks can be toe-curling painful. I will say I was mentally prepared for that aspect of it, even if I wasn't aware just how painful it would be. But regardless, when you are in pain, you are constantly searching for a remedy.

I think Charley was around 4 or 5 days old. She was breastfeeding like a champ, but I wasn't exactly perfect in my technique. When you don't get the baby latched on just right, they can then suck the skin off of your nipples. Yes, OFF of your nipples. It's painful, to say the least. And quite vampire-esque when you take your baby off of your nipple and she's got your blood in the corners of her mouth. I will say that I finally figured out what the heck I was doing and I don't have this issue any longer, and it's funny NOW, but I definitely wasn't laughing then..unless it happened to be opposite day.

So right boob had taken a beating. Lefty wasn't perfect either, but lefty was tougher than righty. Regardless, you need to use both boobs or the one you don't use will get so full of milk that it then hurts of that ailment instead. But in between needing righty, I was on a mission to remedy the skinless, bleedy situation. And this is what I did for you, Charley.

I found information on a very reliable and informative website that suggested a saline solution to ease sore, cracked nipples. It even had the recipe to make your own saline solution on the website and lucky for me I had all of the ingredients: salt & warm water. So I make the solution and read the instructions on how to apply the remedy:
After breastfeeding, soak nipple(s) in a small bowl of warm saline solution for a minute or so--long enough for the saline to get onto all areas of the nipple.
I am to soak my nipples in this solution? Logistically, how am I to make this happen? The first day I did this, my thought was that the only possible way was to do this as I was laying down. And where do you lay down? In the bed of course! And lucky for me, John was already in bed for the evening trying to go to sleep. A (not so) willing helper!

So I take my bowl upstairs, set it in the bed, and lower myself into said bowl with John steadying the bowl as I go.

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I successfully dipped nips without any spillage, and it seemed to be working! "I will continue dipping nips until they are healed!", I proclaimed!

Luckily, the next day I must have been less sleep deprived and was thinking more clearly. This day I realized that there was no need to risk a major saline spillage in our bed. I could simply place my bowl on the kitchen counter, and dip my nips this way! It would just look like I was taking a standing-up-nap on the kitchen counter.
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And so I continued dipping nips on the kitchen counter for a few days until all was healed. Righty is still a little wimp, but all is well these days with me, Charley, and my nipples.

The End.
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Winner Winner Chicken Dinner

From my 101 in 1001 list, I not only completed #28: Win something, but I was an over achiever and won lots of somethings.

A couple of months ago I entered a contest on a blog to win a gift certificate for birth announcements or other custom stationary. The lady giving it away was doing so in an effort to drum up business for herself by advertising her products on this blog I was reading. All you had to do to enter was leave a comment on that particular blog post. Easy enough, right?

So, a few days later after the contest ended I was extremely happy to get an email telling me that I had in fact won the credit to her stationary shop and I could pick out whatever I wanted to be custom made from her. At the time, it was right after my baby showers and I needed some thank you cards, so I requested that she design those for me. She did, and then told me that the thank you cards only used up about half of the credit I had won and I could also have birth announcements made with the remaining half. So far I've received the thank you cards and will get the birth announcements soon.

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But, winning this contest got me curious. I wondered what the odds were to win a blog contest over say, a radio contest, because most blogs I read don't have nearly the same number of people that would be entering. So, I went back to the blog on which I had won this contest and took note of the number of entrants in the contest I had just won: there were 7. So, my great luck was simply because there weren't many participants and therefore winning had been a bit easy. This got the wheels in my head turning.

Because, if you read many blogs at all, you know that these contests happen ALL of the time. People are always giving things away to drum up readers or drum up buyers for their Etsy shop, etc. I decide that since winning this was so easy, I was going to win lots of other stuff too. Who doesn't love free stuff, after all?

So I did some expert googling, entered some contests on blogs I hadn't even ever visited before, and started winning things left and right. I don't know if this is against some bloggy code of ethics, but, in my defense, I actually did find some new blogs to read by doing this, so the people hosting the contests did in fact drum up new readers. This is how I justify my winnings in my head.

I entered blog giveaways for 2 consecutive days. I probably entered 20 or so contests each day, which took maybe an hour each day. This is what I ended up winning:

First, I won these two ceramic birds from here. Guess who has a bird themed nursery and could use these?

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Then, I won a photographer's print here. Coincidentally, when I was running around looking for tape when my water broke, it was to tape this picture to the back of the mat in this frame.
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Then I won this monogrammed acrylic tray from this blog which was advertising this Etsy shop.
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I make great use of it on my night stand to hold all of my middle of the night essentials.

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And my most favoritest winnings: this baby JaR gift basket I won from here. It contains a blanket, two burp cloths, a hooded towel, and a bib and is valued at only $150! Yes, seriously. Apparently this is a hip brand of baby products that celebrities are into, and if you were to buy just the blanket it would cost you $68.
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I will say though, that this purple blanket has gotten a ton of use because it is by far the nicest blanket I've ever felt. Charley is getting spoiled by luxury already.

On top of those things, I've also won a couple of gift cards and gift certificates to Etsy shops that I've yet to use. Pretty crazy, right?

So I'd say I successfully crossed this item off of my list. And to think I was originally trying to win $5K from a radio giveaway to complete this item. I mean, who needs $5K when you can have ceramic birds and a acrylic tray!?

Saturday, September 24, 2011

Charley's Birth: Part III

Part IPart II

So...where were we?

And so the doctor tells me the problem and then decides....

...that I am in fact going to push this baby out. First, she just needed to make a little adjustment.
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Because, you see, the doctor had just determined Charley was sunny side up. And, since you know I'm not talking about breakfast, that just means she was face up instead of face down in baby terms.  By being in that position, she wasn't able to tuck her head as she was being pushed out, making her "stuck" and thus the reason I had been unsuccessfully pushing for two hours and forty minutes.

Now, it really wasn't as dramatic as I made it out to be, but who doesn't love a good cliffhanger? Basically the doctor came in and determined what the nurses were unable to see. [Actually the nurses did mention that she may be sunny side up a couple of times, but couldn't really tell based on what they could see.] The doctor then stuck her hand up there, grabbed around Charley's head, and flipped her around. She didn't even really tell me what she was doing until after she was done and then I was ready to push once more. I wasn't feeling any less exhausted, but now since something had finally happened, I found a renewed sense of energy and was ready to go again.

And yes, this does mean that all of that pushing and all of the muscle usage that my body endured was for nothing. But, what matters is the end result, and in twenty short minutes after the doctor flipped Charley around, I got my end result.

Charley Jane ~ Born 9/4/11 at 6:58 a.m.
6 pounds 2 ounces and 20" long

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I was truly in love, but she was just maybe a little too goopy and sticky at that moment which is the explanation for my facial expression!
I was finally able to push her out after I had already given up on myself. I think there were about seven hundred people in the room at this point and they all cheered me on and helped me do it.  It was so surreal and I felt so accomplished. My first thought when they held her up for me to see - "Whoa that is a lot of arms and legs." She was long and lean and beautiful and ours.

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John wasn't mentioned much in the story, but he was definitely there the entire time. I am pretty independent apparently and didn't need to squeeze the living daylights out of his hand, or scream obscenities at him. He just hung around and actually watched Charley's birth, and I couldn't have asked for any different of him. That's really all I wanted was his presence. He did cut the cord after her birth and I'm thankful for awesome nurses that grabbed the camera from him and got a picture of that moment that I would have otherwise missed.

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After her birth, I then delivered the placenta, and then, if enough stuff hadn't come out of my uterus already that morning, the doctor started sticking her hand back in there and pulling out tennis ball sized blood clots and such. It was fascinating and disgusting at the same time. I guess I'm grateful that she went ahead and took them out then and didn't wait for them to fall out on their own while I was sitting on the toilet later...I may have thought that I had just lost an organ in the toilet if something that size fell outta me!

Finally, she sewed up a first degree tear (I am very lucky that I didn't tear very much and didn't have to deal with the painful recovery in this area afterwards!) and maybe I had just turned wimpy at this point, but the pulling of the string as she was stitching me up was more uncomfortable than child birth.

The hospital strongly encouraged one hour of skin-to-skin time directly after birth and just a little bit of wiping her down. So she was laid on my chest for the next hour and we started to call family members to come back to the hospital to meet her.

The first family member she met after her hour on my chest was Daddy.

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My family had all arrived too (minus my sister, bro-in-law and nieces in Florida) and were so excited to meet Miss Charley too. She is so lucky to be loved by so many and she just soaked up the love as she was passed around the room.
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One of my favorite pictures from the day - meeting Gamma and Grandaddy.
Meanwhile, I stayed in the hospital bed recovering. I was starving as I had only eaten a small breakfast and some cheese and crackers for lunch the day before. Oh, and maybe 2 or 3 popsicles during labor. When I don't eat for a while, I get really weak and often grumpy. I had just had a brand new, healthy baby so I definitely wasn't grumpy, but my face went extremely pale(r) and it was very evident I needed food NOW. I ordered french toast from the hospital room service and scarfed it down as my family loved on Charley, and also as our new nurse (who we LOVED) took care of Charley.

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MMmmm Milk!

We spent the rest of Sunday, all of Monday, and the morning of Tuesday with a camera in our poor baby's face...
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....and spent a lot of time with our very welcomed visitors. & then on Tuesday morning they allowed us to leave the hospital with a brand new baby! I'm still questioning the hospital's decision on that as John and I really felt like we had no idea what we were doing!

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And that's the story,
of how we came to be,
a family of three.
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Wednesday, September 21, 2011

Charley's Birth: Part II

Continued from Part I

We get to the hospital safely and soundly. John's truck also made it safely with not one stain to be seen. I had to control any laughing or sudden movement on the drive as any movement such as that made liquid come shooting out. Quite a bizarre feeling when you are shooting liquid uncontrollably out of your lady bits.

Yes, I mentioned laughing as one of the things I had to restrict on our way to the hospital. You see, on TV when someone's water breaks that cues instant pain, moaning and miserableness. But, not in my case. I was text messaging my sister Christy, calling my parents and other sister Joy (who happened to be in Florida), and talking with John. If I was having contractions, then I must be the most awesomest pain-handler in the world because I didn't feel a thing.

When we get to the hospital, John drops me off at the door and goes to park. I walk in the maternity center and they are expecting me, but, before they could get to me there is another couple trying to check in that did not speak English and the front desk ladies are really struggling with checking them in. I mean, she's pregnant and we are in a maternity center. I think I can pretty safely assume what she's looking to do, so move on outta here people! Excusa! I'm leaking here!

I stand there doing the pee pee dance because the layers are now failing me. I am dripping in the lobby - the same lobby where visitors are in the waiting room waiting to meet new little family members of their own. I avoid eye contact with anyone, except the ladies at the desk. Hello!? Was mopping on your agenda of things to do today?? Because, if you don't get me in a room soon it's going to be!

Finally it's my turn and a nurse takes me to my room. John hadn't made it inside yet (which tells me my "wait" wasn't nearly as long as it felt like it was) so I decide to be like Hansel and Gretel and leave him a trail of amniotic fluid and blood drops to follow and find me. It works, and he and I are in our birthing room for the evening with a nurse. It's 6:40 p.m., and shift change occurs at 7:00 so our nurse is only temporary. It's a good thing, because I don't think that first nurse was the right one for me. In her twenty minutes with us, however, she tells me that I need to go ahead and start Pitocin to get labor started since I'm not having contractions. Had I been uninformed, I guess that's what I would have done. But, I have done my research and know what that means, and I know I don't have to do that yet. I decline to her dismay ("There is a risk of infection, blah blah blah") and luckily when our permanent [and may I say AWESOME!] nurse arrives at 7:00 p.m., she agrees with me and lets me try to get labor started on its own without drugs.

But first I had hooked up to the monitors for an hour to see if I am having contractions and to monitor Charley's heart beat. They tell me I am in fact having contractions and Charley sounds perfect, which is great news to me. I tell myself I AM super-woman and must have such a high pain tolerance. This is going to be a breeze. Bring on the popsicles.

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Now, here is my mindset about how I think my birthing experience will go. My mom had 4 babies, all of which came within 4 hours. My sister Christy had 2 babies, each with labors around 3 hours and 45 minutes. I look like them, so clearly I'm about to birth a baby in a few hours as well. As soon as I start eating popsicles and walking the halls of the maternity center, I'm going to have excruciating contractions and Charley is going to join us. It's going to go so quickly that I will not have time for an epidural, so in my mind I decide that I'm having a natural, non-medicated birth because this is how I've envisioned it. NOT because I want to be all warrior-princess-super-mom, but just because I want to prove the nurses and doctors wrong and go way quicker than they think I will. I like being right.

Unfortunately, Charley already likes proving Mama wrong and it didn't happen that way.

My parents, sister, brother & his fiance, and nephew all come to the hospital that night because they too believed I'd go fast. They take turns walking the halls with me until 11:00. At that time, my wonderful nurse Elizabeth and I had a little chat. She had been doing this for a long time, and told me that honestly she didn't think my body was going to get things going on it's own without a little help to get started. At this point it had been 5 hours since my water broke and I believed her since I was thinking Charley would already be with us at this point. I agreed to a small dose of Pitocin to get things started, and sent the family home for the night since it would likely be a full night of laboring before Charley would join us. They said goodbye, John pulled down the murphy bed for himself, and we tried to get some sleep.

Contractions started right away, but I'd say they were still on the lower end of pain. I wasn't sleeping sleeping, but I was getting some rest. Eventually I got a clue. WHAT in the world am I waiting on? Am I afraid of the pain if the Pitocin was upped? I had no birth plan or preference about having a medicated versus non-medicated birth - just whatever got Charley here safely - and so I don't know why I let myself just lay there with puny contractions for so long before I got the show on the road...especially since I already had Pitocin and had thus chosen a medicated birth. Pretty much, if you get Pitocin to help you contract, you typically have to have the epidural too (the drugs that numb you from the waist down) because Pitocin contractions are so much worse than non-drugged contractions. So, if I was going to have to get the epidural anyways, why am I laying there torturing myself with this low dose of Pitocin and labor moving at a snails pace? Turn that baby up!

Finally, after four hours of contractions, (and very shortly after I upped the Pitocin dosage) I asked for the epidural. I had to sit still through 3 contractions while it was placed, but after it was in I was good to go. Only an hour and a half later, my nurse came back to check me and told me I was fully dilated and ready to push. What I heard - "You will have a baby in 20 minutes or so because you are a super-mama and will be able to push this baby out in just a few pushes!"

Again, Charley was out to prove me wrong.

Nurse Elizabeth gives me a quick run down on how to push. "Push like you are peeing, not like you are pooping. You will use those same muscles to get her out." Sure, okay, got it. Let's go.

When the first contraction came and I was ready to push for the first time, I was feeling really confident. I've got this. I'm going to be the best pusher ever and this nurse is going to compare all future births to me and how great I'm going to do. So, contraction came, and she starts counting. "1, 2, 3, 4...", and I start pushing. Only, instead of holding my breath, I am taking a deep breath and then slowly letting it all out. I got my medical breathing techniques confused and must have thought that she was listening to my lungs with a stethoscope instead of me trying to push a baby out. Ooops. We'll try again with the next contraction.

After that little confusion was cleared up, I was feeling good again. I pushed. And pushed. And pushed some more. And Charley was pretending to be a turtle. Coming down a little with each push, and then retreating back into her shell after every contraction. She wasn't permanently coming down any further at all. After about an hour and a half, it was time to call in back up help from another nurse - a nurse we knew from high school and was a friend of ours. Apparently she was the pushing master and was going to help me get this baby out! It's a good thing, because I was getting pretty exhausted.

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One of the first positions our friend nurse Jodie had me try was to be on my hands and knees. Sure, yeah, I can do that. Only, remember that whole epidural thing that numbed me from the waist down? Well that included my legs. Dead legs to the extreme and being on my hands and knees meant being supported by these dead legs. And remember that factoid from Part I where I said I had massive butt-water-weight gained during pregnancy? This is the time that I realized just how heavy my butt now was. Turning myself over with the help of the two nurses, and then getting up on my knees was quite the task. But we did it, sort of. I felt like my knees were slowly sliding outwards and towards the edge of the bed and therefore my demise, but somehow I made it through.

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In case you needed a visual.

What didn't make it through was Charley through the rest of the birth canal. She didn't make any more progress in this position versus any other position we'd tried. She was stuck, and I was exhausted. At this point I'd been pushing for a little over 2 hours.

After another half hour of pushing, nurse Elizabeth decided it was time to call the doctor. She was on call at the hospital and was sleeping there already, so it was just a matter of waking her up and having her come down to my room. Elizabeth warned me though - the doctor only liked to have people push for three hours maximum, and if still no baby, she typically suggests a C-Section so the baby wouldn't be under too much distress. I may not have had a birth plan, but I definitely did not want a c-section. And as much as I didn't want a c-section, I was exhausted and really didn't care at that point. Just get this [sweet] baby outta me!!

After the doctor came in and checked me out, she saw that there was a problem. There were only 20 minutes left in her three-hour-pushing window, and I wasn't sure that was enough time to push Charley out since I had been trying for so long already. My mindset at this point was to just do whatever. I am soaked with sweat (but still had great hair, mind you!), literally every muscle in my body is exhausted and I'm done making decisions for myself. I basically leave it up to the doctor to just tell me what to do at this point.

And so she tells me the problem and then decides....

Continued in Part III....
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Monday, September 19, 2011

Charley's Birth: Part I

A little warning to my peeps: I am an over-sharer by nature, and I'm not really going to restrict myself when telling the story of Charley's birth either. If you are weirded out by that type of thing, or are so squeamish that just reading a story about blood and other bodily fluids is going to cause you harm, I'd skip this series if I were you.

And for those of you who are sticking around...a series, you ask? Well, why not drag this out into a 3 part series! One of my favorite birth stories I've ever read was done as a series so I'm going to copy her and do the same. On top of being an over-sharer, I tend to drag a story out. And what better story is there to drag out than a birth story. So, lets start on Saturday, September 3rd, 2011.

[Also, since I don't believe in pictureless blogs, I decided to reenact some scenes in this portion of the story since taking pictures wasn't on the forefront of my mind during all of this.]

It's a typical Saturday in our home. I am 38 weeks pregnant and haven't had the slightest hint of labor starting. In fact, at my appointment on Wednesday of the prior week, I still hadn't made any progress and was maybe a fingertip dilated according to my doctor. For my male readers or even female readers that aren't familiar with pregnancy stuff, let me break that down for you in layman's terms: My doctor shoves her hand UP the canal Charley will soon be coming DOWN, feels around for my cervix, and measures how open or closed my cervix is. Luckily, they have a pretty good feel of what 1 centimeter, 2 centimeters, etc. feels like because shoving a [metric] ruler and a flashlight up there may get a bit crowded and uncomfortable.

Anyways, back to Saturday. I slept in and had an appointment to get my hair cut at 10:00 that morning. My hairdresser is also pregnant and due one week after me, so I made sure to get this haircut scheduled before I had Charley so I wouldn't have to wait for my hairdresser to be back from her maternity leave as well. This may have been the best timed haircut ever.

After I get back home with fabulous hair, John and I start working on some unfinished projects in the nursery and around the house. Around 3:00, we start making a curtain to replace the closet door in the nursery. We spend about an hour measuring fabric, hemming all four sides, and finally hanging the curtain. After the curtain is hung, we use the last bit of fabric leftover from the curtains to make a tieback for the curtain. At this point, our project stalls because we then need a hook in which to attach the tieback to. John mentally starts making a list for Home Depot.
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The finished product, after hook is installed.
We both move on to different projects and start cleaning up our house a bit. It's a disaster to say the least. As John works on his different projects, his mental list for Home Depot lengthens and finally he decides to drive the half mile to Home Depot to get what he needs. It's about 4:30 in the afternoon.

Meanwhile, I am wandering around looking for tape. Why is it that you can never find the roll of tape when you need it? I'm sure I'm muttering something about blaming John for misplacing it and I get up from the desk in our bedroom to go to look elsewhere for tape. As I walk by the bathroom door, I feel a pop, and a warm gush flood down my legs. Luckily, the bathroom is 2 leaps to my right and I quickly maneuver myself off of the carpet and onto the lovely laminate [and more importantly non-stainable] flooring of the bathroom.

As I rush over to the toilet, I take notice of the color of the fluid which now coats the bathroom floor and is quickly filling the toilet. It's red. Blood red. Oh. Shit.

So I stay on the toilet for a few minutes because frankly, unless I want my home to be covered in blood, there isn't much else I can do because it is pouring out of me. I'm pretty sure I was saying out loud, "John come home, please. What do I do, what do I do, what do I do???" It's been about 5 minutes and there is no sign of John. I decide I need to make a run for it and go get my cell phone. My cell phone's location: in my purse downstairs.

I feel like there is a lull in the leaking so I decide to run downstairs pantsless. I'm dripping a tiny bit, but that's obviously the least of my worries. I get halfway down the stairs, and thus halfway to my destination and see this:

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Door's wide open with just the storm door shut. Again, normally I would not have cared, but we live in a townhouse which means neighbors are awfully close. And said neighbor that is awfully close is having a Labor Day party and has friends over. Said friends are mingling right outside of his door, which, is coincidentally right outside of my door. I think it through, and flashing neighbors was not on my list of things to do today and abort mission. I head back to my thinking throne: the toilet.

This time I realize I need to clothe my bottom half. But to put clothes on would mean that I would then need to have clean clothes to PUT on. Laundry was one of those items on my Saturday to-do list that I hadn't yet got to. So, instead I am forced to shove my big butt in some underwear that no longer fit due to the massive swelling of my butt. Yes, swelling. Surely it was just butt-water-weight from this pregnancy and not butt fat. [Humor me.] On top of squeezing my butt into the too-small undies, I also add 2 pads and finally some pants. Mission is a go and I make a run for it...

I don't have much time as I can feel the blood now soaking through my layers. But I make it to the door first and shut it just in case I decide to run around naked again. Then I grab my phone and call John immediately.

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His phone is on the coffee table.

Back to the thinking throne.

At this point I know it's time to just call my doctor. I was instructed that if I ever went into labor to call the doctor first before heading to the hospital so as I sit leaking on the toilet, this is what I do. It's after-hours of course, so finally I get a nurse on the line and she begins asking me questions to determine what is going on with me. I'm feeling better already.

Meanwhile, John finally makes it back home while I'm still chatting it up with the on-call nurse. He begins to climb the stairs and I hear "What is all of this water on the stairs!?" (The stairs have a dark stain on them and so the blood red color wasn't immediately noticeable and he just assumed water.) He then hears my voice and comes into the bathroom to see why 1) am I ignoring his question and 2) I'm talking on the phone on the toilet. He is quickly freaking out after he sees the blood all over the place and just-shy-of-a-scream shouts "WHAT IS GOING ON!?" His worry is all over his face.

Now, I do feel bad about this next part. You see, I'm not a good multi-tasker while on the phone. If I'm on the phone with someone and then the person I'm with tries talking to me simultaneously, I cannot focus. I usually end up ignoring the in-person person because I can only give my full attention to one person at a time, and at this time that person was the nurse on the phone. I could not figure out how to answer poor John's query while still answering questions the nurse was asking me. So he just stood there staring at me and waiting on my reply until I got off the phone. I do feel really bad for letting him stand there and worry, but after I got off the phone, his worry quickly changed to something else as the nurse said,


"Sounds like to me your water broke and you lost your mucous plug simultaneously. Head to the hospital, you are most likely having a baby today."


So, I got off the phone, informed John of our new afternoon project and ran around like a maniac trying to pack a hospital bag. Yeah, I hadn't really done that yet.

Ten minutes later we were on our way to the hospital with a half-assed packed hospital bag, a camera (thank goodness) and me leaking like a faucet while sitting upon two towels in John's brand new truck.  Good thing the hospital wasn't too far away because even though we are about to become parents, John is still really worried about the possibility of me staining his brand new truck. Oy vey.

To be continued....
Part 2
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Thursday, September 15, 2011

Haiku Thursday

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If you'd like to participate in Haiku Thursday, let me know in my comments so I can come see yours too! And, if you need a little extra help in the poetry department: a haiku is a short poem consisting of three lines; the first line having 5 syllables, the second 7, and the third 5.
 
 
Mexican food...yum.
I used to prefer tacos.
But now, burritos.

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She's not really that long...that swaddle blanket/straight jacket just allows for a lot of growth!

Wednesday, September 7, 2011

Be Back Soon

Off_Air_Screen_by_Zaku_Man

Things are slowly getting back to normal around here and I will be back to fill everyone in on way-too-many details ASAP.

For now, however, meet Miss Charley Jane, born September 4, 2011. She was definitely a heavyweight at a whopping 6 pounds 2 ounces and 20 inches long. In other words, she's a long & lean & skinny little peanut.

We're in love.

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