Perspective

I feel as if having Taylor has given me a lot of fresh perspective on my life, on who I am and want to be, and what it means to be a mother. I cannot even tell you of the overwhelming amount of joy this baby boy brings to me and to our family. He simply makes me happy on a daily basis.

I was talking to my friend the other day about losing weight and working out etc. She said some things that really stuck out to me. She talked about identity and about how if a number is what identifies us, then the moment that number changes, we lose who we are. I'm not "Becca Clary who weighs this certain amount." I'm "Becca Clary the wife, the mother, the woman. I'm Becca Clary the photographer, the lover of all things delicious, entertaining and fun. I'm Becca Clary the sister, daughter and friend. I'm Becca Clary the blogger, the facebooker, the Pinterest obsesser. I'm Becca Clary who loves spring flowers, sunshine, summertime, green grass, tan lines, and bbqs. I'm Becca Clary the socializer, the want-to-get-know-you-er. I am Becca."

I was starting to beat myself up for not only NOT losing very much weight, but for gaining some back. I was feeling sorry for myself because I can't fit into my old clothes. I was feeling sorry for myself because to even wear baggy shirts and larger sized pants, I have to wear spanx. I was forgetting who I really am. I am not a number. People do not love me because of the clothes I wear or the size on the tag of my pants. They don't care what the scale says or whether I have love handles or not. They love me for who I really am. And I should too.

I gave up my body to have babies. Then I worked hard and got my body to a place better then before I had babies. And now it's at a worse place then ever before. But I wouldn't trade that for anything. Because of the joy and happiness that motherhood brings me, that Taylor has brought me just being apart of our family, that Grace brings me when she laughs so hard she can't even handle it, when she plays kindly with her brother, when she holds Taylor and sings to him, when she makes her bed without being asked, when she sings in the bathroom because she thinks no one can hear her - I would give up my body for those things. When Rocky tells jokes, when he dances, when he randomly gives me hugs and kisses for no reason, when he says please and thank you, when he tells me he loves me, when he plays with Taylor, when he talks about how awesome his daddy is - I wouldn't give that up to have a better body, or even a perfect body.

 

Motherhood is precious. IT is a gift. MY body is a gift as well, and I need to take good care of it. But I should never feel sorry for myself. I should never feel unworthy or unacceptable because of a number on a scale or on a tag. That is just a number. Is not my identity. Motherhood is my identity and I am grateful for that. I wouldn't trade it for anything. I love being a mom and am honored to have the opportunity to raise my 3 beautiful children. They make me who I am. And that is something I am proud of.

Feeling a Bit

I think I posted a long time ago about the song by Miranda Lambert "The House that Built Me." It's one of my faves. Anyway I was listening to it in the car as we were leaving my parents house, and as I looked out the window at their beautiful yard and home, memories just came flooding into my mind that involved that yard. I used to give my parents a hard time about having a big yard, and I still do sometimes because it forces them to work so much. But as I thought about all the memories, as a mom, I get it. I get why all the work was worth it to them. I thought about Playing baseball in my front yard...and the ball going into our neighbors yard multiple times. I thought about playing 4 square and butt ball (we weren't allowed to say "butt"...what did we call that game?!) riding my lil bike, and roller skating in our driveway. Playing inthe playhouse, the sandbox, and on the swingset. Rolling down the hill, riding in the wagon down the hill, sledding etc. Playing in the irrigation every summer, swimming in the pool, laying out under the trees on the grass talking with friends for hours. And so many different parties and get togethers I can't even count them. It was always a home and yard especially that was welcoming to people and to gatherings. And then there are the memories of working in the yard. Working with my brothers and sisters to weed, plant, mow, etc. We would talk and fight, play games while we worked, raced, fight a little more, complain too...but we always did what we needed to do. And we talked a lot. All of these things came into my mind as we drove away from my parents' home. Thanks mom and dad for the yard. Thanks for letting ys play and party and make memories there. Thanks for making us work hard and learn to work together. I get it, now. I get the whole big yard thing. And I am very grateful for the sacrifices you two had to do to enable us to have that. Thank you.

 

Later that same day we were celebrating Gpa Russell's 78th birthday. We were all gathered at RIchard and Mindy's (James' bro & his wife) home for cake and ice cream. We have become very close to them in the last couple years. They are some of our best friends and we love them kind of a lot. We hang out with them as much as we can. They are great examples to us and help us to be better. Not to mention we have tons have fun with them. As I sat on the couch talking and joking around with my nephew Landon, I suddenly became overwhelmed with a sadness - they are moving to Kentucky in a few weeks - and it just hit me how much I love them and how much I will miss them. Landon is an amazing kid. Very polite, very creative, and a fun kid to talk to. Of course he is still a kid and can tease his brothers and manipulate as good as his dad and uncle james can ;) but I love that kid. I love ALL their boys. I made Landon come give me a hug because I really was overcome in that moment with feelings. Grateful for their friendship and always having their home open to us at anytime. Grateful for their examples and all the good times we've had together. I love them and am going to miss them. And I'm glad Landon was willing to come give his weird Aunt a hug even though he probably didn't want to. I will miss that family.

 

Even later (quite late, in fact) that night, I had just finished feeding Taylor, and was about done burping him. I looked down at his beautiful face - perfect skin, eyes closed, mouth hanging open a little bit, and soft breathing. He was snuggled against me and I was once again overwhelmed with feelings. Feeling of amazing gratitude to be a mother. How lucky am I that this perfect little boy is mine? That I get to see him at midnight, snuggled and sleeping so peacefully? We have been majorly blessed to have 3 gorgeous and good kids. I am grateful that I Am able to stay at home with my babies. A lot of mothers do not have that. I could have stared at him all night - many nights I actually have - it was definitely a great mommy moment.

 

Some things in life come and go. But family is forever.

So I Don't Forget - Grace

My kids each have some pretty cute things they do these days and I realized I really do not document our lives too well. Sure sure, the big birth story I've got down in detail, but all the little daily funny things I am not great about remembering or recording. So I am going to try to be better at that.

Let's start with the oldest.

Grace:

• This girl is hilarious. she is such a weirdo, fo reals. She tells these eleborate dreams she has, and I'm pretty sure she just makes them up as she goes. One example was about her getting flying power and she shared her power with her cousin Landon, and they were flying everywhere. They flew to the tall tower in Tangled and helped kill the bad witch who was pretending to be her mom. Slightly horrific, but that's what she tells me about. Here is another example of her gruesome yet creative mind. my nieghbor was babysitting and sent me this text "Grace is pl aying with a duck that has baby ducks that come out of it and she just said "Okay, let's pretend this baby died because the mama didn't give it enough milk." Are you kidding me right now?!?! And just listening to her play - her stories are always SO creative and detailed and ....OUT there! Her imagination is definitely working, but she always throws in bits of reality...like that if a baby animal doesn;t get enough milk from its mama, it would die. I don't think I teach her these things but maybe I do?! I talk pretty openly to my kids about any questions they come to me with so it is possible I've explained that to her. But hearing it in play form is slightly disturbing. nonetheless, it's neat to see her little mind coming up with different stories and characters constantly. 
• Holy artist! This girl draws and colors and is so great at it. I love LOVE the pictures she draws. I have never seen a kid draw like she does, in the sense that when she draws a picture - tons of details and an entire story to it, every time. For example, she drew our bishopo a picture. It had a our house with us at the bottom, and it had a temple, and it had jesus in the clouds, and it had a big heart around the whole thing because we all love each other...and then it had 3 big monsters...but they are nice monsters so that's why they get to be in heaven. And she drew a picture of the earth with a big heart around it just the other day...it looked like the earth! Better then I could do by far! Maybe she's going green with a drawing like that, who knows. I love LOVE when she colors and draws.
• She's a little bit blunt and mean. Wonder where she gets that from? I took a nap and the kids were SO good about leaving me alone. When I got up I told her thanks for letting me nap. Her reply? "Will you be a nice mom now that you got a nap? Because when you don't get sleep you aren't very nice." ooooh, thanks sweetheart. Pretty sure I've said that to her, but no one likes to hear that they aren't a nice mom, you know? And she is very free about telling me when I'm not being a good mom or how I could be a better mom or what other moms I should be like. I do not love that she does this, but she definitely does do it, and the one thing I like about it, is that  it shows confidence in saying the hard things. Or maybe it shows the stupidity of not knowing when to keep your mouth shut. haha. But yes, she will say anything and everything that comes to her mind. a True Clary. 
• She loves to sing and makes up her own song titles and words and tunes. And she can sing forever and ever and just keep making it up as she goes. She sings really loud in the bathroom because she thinks we can't hear her. That's my personal favorite.
• She is an amazing big sister to Taylor! She's a pretty good sister to Rocky too, but she also has learned how to manipulate him into doing what she wants or getting him into trouble or making him be her slave/servent for things....but he doesn't complain...he has fun with it most of the time so what do I do? nothing. But with Taylor...she is amazing! Holds him, rocks him, sings to him, gives him toys, helps me give him a bath, pick out his clothes for the day, gives him his binky when he  cries, etc.a natural mom fo sho. Love seeing that side of her.
• She is a lil smarty pants. She asks super deep questions all the time, and m y reply is always "That is an excellent question Grace. Ask dad that when he gets home." Because most of the time I have no idea how to answer her question. Like when she says things like "how many worlds are there?"  and "how big is the universe?" etc. She knows how to read and is really good at sounding out each word.She's gets frustrated easily, though, so whether it's drawing, reading or whatever - if she stumbles at all, she gets flustered and doesn't want to do it anymore. We are working on this.
• She can clean the house as well as I can. When she wants to, anyway. She knows that I don't like messes so if she wants to cheer me up or if she has something she wants from me, haha, she will say "mom, I'm going to clean the whole house to make you happy." And she will go from room to room and put everything in it's place. And she can do it quickly when she wants to, as well. Unfortunately, when I tell her to clean up, it's not the same result, but still - she is capable. haha.
• She's been asking for a girls night. She wants to paint nails, go shopping, and make hair bows. 
• She's growing like a weed! All of my kids are, which is weird. They all need new clothes because everything is small. She's in size 6 right now and that fits her perfectly with no growing room. It's mostly tallness though. Her shirts suddenly are almost belly shirts, and her bum is always always ALWAYS hanging out of her pants!!! leggins are a better way to go for her then jeans, jeans never fit her well. by the time you get them long enough they are too big around the waist so I tighten it with the waist adjuster dealio and then she says it's too tight and blah blah blah.
• She constantly reminds me of James. She thinks like he does, talks like he does, is weird like he is, and looks a lot like him. I love that. I love that I can look at my daughter and be soooo reminded of her father. It's kind of an amazing feeling to see traits passed on. So far the traits she gets from me that I can identify are 1)she says "damn" sometimes. oops. that's all thanks to me. 2) she will be crying because she is tired and will say "I don't know why I'm crying I'm just having a hard time right now." and 3)Her easily flustered trait comes from me. It takes a lot for James to get flustered, it takes very little for me to get that way. She definitely gets that from me. So glad I could pass on these wonderful things to my daughter. ;) Thank goodness she has her Dad to give her some more characteristics. haha.

Well I was going to do this about all 3 of my kiddos but the time is passing and this was longer then I had planned. Before I forget though, one thing that Taylor does that I LOVE and laugh at every time he does it - when I hold him over my shoulder, like to burp him or something, he puts his head to my neck and starts sucking on it or he will even lift his head up (he is VERY strong and holds his head up quite well) he will suck on my ear lobe! haha. It is HILARIOUS! And yes, even though it is a funny weird thing, I love it. He's a funny kid.

More about Rocky and Taylor next time!

One Thing After Another

Remeber how Taylor's birth was a bit crazy and really threw me for a loop? Let's just say that has, so far, been the pattern for everything in our lives since he was born.

At the hospital they found a heart murmur. That was scary but thankfully it has closed and his heart is fine. Now, remember he was born on a Thursday. the following Monday we had to take him to the hospital to get his bili reuben (jaundice) levels tested...thankfully he was at low risk on that as well. Tuesday we had to take him to his 5 day appointment (yes, that's a thing now. SO dumb.) The ONLY reason I took him was just to double check his heart, and that's where it was confirmed that it had closed and he was fine. That Friday he was circumsized. Already it had been a heck of a first week of life for the lil big guy.

 

 Monday he came down with a fever. I didn't think much of it - kids get fevers, you give them some tylenol, their fine the next day. I've never been one to worry about fevers. But the next morning he still had a fever. Again not too worried about it, but I just happened to be cleaning up my room and found the paper the Dr gave us after Tay's circ. It had a list of what's normal and "You should call us when..." On that list of "call us when" was "if your baby gets a fever." I went ahead and called them. "Hey, my son just got his circ on friday, and the paper says to call you if he got a fever. he has a fever. so I'm calling you." haha. The nurse asked that we come in. I hesitated, "How much do I need to worry about this? I mean, it's not a high fever, it's low grade, and he's acting fine...do I Really need to come in over a fever?" The nurse assured me that I did because it can be a sign of infection, and of course we don't want his little thingy to be infected, so....we made an appointment. My Dr was booked so we were scheduled to see the nurse practitioner later that afternoon.

 

James had the car at work, so he was supposed to come pick us up, we would drop the toddlers off at my mom's and then he was going to come with me to the appointment. Unfortunately it took too long for him to get off work, so we didn't have time to drop the kids off, and we just all went to the appointment. I told James just to stay in the waiting room with the kids since there were lots of toys and a movie there, the kids would be better entertained. I headed back with the nurse.

 

All you nurses out there, don't be offended when I Say this, but the nurse I had...she was training I'm thinking because she had to keep having another nurse watch what she was doing and kind of talk her through it, etc. Since we were already there I opted to get his PKU done then. This nurse....was THE SLOWEST NURSE EVER. I've seen PKUs take about 5 minutes. This took...at least 20 minutes. No lie. And his heel was bleeding plenty...she was so nervous and unsure and the other nurse kept talking her through it and whatever, but man I just wanted to take his heel and do it myself.

By the time the nurse practitioner came in I already had been in there for about 35/40 minutes. Blegh. She took a look at Taylor and saw no signs of infection.  I was thinking were done. She kept "hmmm"-ing and saying "I just don't know why he would be running a fever." And I would respond very similarly to wat I said to the nurse on the phone. What was that big deal about this little fever?!? She finally opted to go get a Dr for a second opinion. Are you kidding me? We do not need this, he's fine. I sat there, slightly frustrated that the appointment was taking so long, but I was happy to know he wasn't infected. That's all I had cared about.

 

She comes back in with...MY dr! Yay. I really like him a lot. He's been our pediatrician since we had Grace and he has been amazing. When he walked in he was happy to see us and said to the nurs practitioner "oh yeh, this is my patient, I'm the one who did the circ." And we were kind of chit chatting as he checked it out. He agreed no infection, and he asked me more about why we brought him in. I told him about the fever. His face instantly changed. It was obvious concern. Suddenly he started asking a lot more questions: was anyone sick in the family? No. Grace has a runny nose...she goes to preschool, maybe she's brought home some germs? We've had lots of visitors, but are pretty good about having them wash hands etc before holding Taylor... He asked about me being Strep B positive...double checked that I had gotten 2 doses of antibiotics before Tay was born, I confirmed that was the case. And then he said "You're making me nervous little guy." talking to taylor.

 

time out - Dr;s don't get nervous. At least not in front of their patients. The only time they get nervous in front of their patients is when it's really serious. I started to sweat....and then my Dr started talking openly.

He told me that with newborns under 2 months old, they do NOT take fevers lightly. He said that hopefully and probably he had a lil virus from sister or a visitor. "However...." uh oh....where is he going with this?! "we treat it as meningitis until proven otherwise." I interrupted him and told him I didn't know what that was. "It's an infection in the brain, and if it's not treated quickly it can have permenant side effects and even be fatal if it's not treated at all." (I may be paraphrasing...that's what I remember hearing. He probably said it better...)

 

heart stops. tears want to instantly come pouring down my face. but I Sat there. listening, in shock. trying to stay calm.

 

There's more to it then "an infection in the brain" most of you probably know about it, I didn't. But he continued to explain that even though I had double dose of antibiotics for the strep B, (or GBS for you medical peeps, haha) that made it very unlikely, but "you never say never." He explained that there have been times where newborns who get infected from the strep B show symptoms as long as a month after birth. Again, not the majority of the time, but it has happened.He asked a lot mroe questions "Is he acting fussy a lot?" No. not at all. he sleeps and is sooo good all the time. "Hmmm, so is he just really tired all the time? kind of lethargic?" No. he's like any newborn and sleeps a lot, but when he's awake for a couple hours in the day, he's very content...

So. He told me to watch Taylor's fever very closely. "Don't be taking his temp every 10 minutes and make yourself crazy. Only take his temp if his feels warm to you. If it reaches 100.4 call us, we will have you come right in, and I'm going to be honest with you there will be a chance at that point he will be hospitalizd."

keep the tears in, becca. keep it together. don't breakdown. you're strong enough to not cry for a few minutes. keep it together....

 

I nodded. "Ok." My dr reassured me that it probably was just a virus...but again, with newborns they just don't take chances.I respect that. And I appreciate it.

 

As I went out to the waiting room I told the kids to get up and head out. I couldn't even look at James, I knew he would see all the fear and emotion in my eyes. He asked me how it went. I sat there, putting Tay in his carseat. All I could get out was "I can't...even...talk about it right now."

 

I'm sure James was confused, he thought it was just "circ infected" or "circ not infected" - what's to cry about?!? I told James as we walked out and got in the car about what the Dr had said. And again - we knew that it wasn't a high chance that he had meningitis...but it was possible. That possibility was enough to make me a major emotional wreck. James was calm. He always is. That helped me.

 

From that moment on, and for the next 2-3 days I was kissing Taylor's head like there was no tomorrow. Does it feel warm? Does it feel normal? over and over and over and over and over. And plenty of time it DID feel warm. His temp consistantly stayed 100 degrees even or lower. Being the drama person I am, I guess, I kept thinking about the "what IFs...." - let's just say a hormonal, lack of sleep mama, should not play that game. I had images in my head of Taylor being deaf (that can be a result...) and even thoughts of losing my new little baby. I just held him and stared at him so much. He was so sweet. So content and good. There was no way that his life was going to be over before it had even started. He was just too precious. I just knew he was meant for great things. He is special. My mind would then go to that mormon.org video...the one about the father who was a garbage man, his wife had MS, and he wanted a son so badly he prayed to heavenly father and said he didn't care what condition his son came in, he just wanted a son. Later, his son was born....with down syndrome. And he was the best dad to that boy ever. I thought about that a lot. And I thought that IF anything did happen to Tay, we would still want him and love him...no matter his condition. 

 

After a couple days of this emotional stress, I decided to let my heart out in prayer. (prolly should've done that sooner. believe me, we had said plenty of prayers...but not like this one.) I literally said that I'd had so much faith that Heavenly Father would take care of us financially/medically with this birth, and even though it didn't happen the way we had planned (does it ever?) and definitely not in the time frame we had wanted (again...never does) He had taken care of us. Through a series of little miracles, we are literally saving thousands of dollars thanks to the blessings we have received. And those blessings all happened within the last few weeks as well. I remember praying "You've always taken such good care of us...please keep taking care of us. I didn't let myself lose faith when it came to the finances, and you definitely came through for us. But I don't know how much more faith I have. I don't know if I can handle something like this. Please don't test me. Please don't try my faith with this. Of course, thy will be done, and whatever that is we will push forward with as much faith as we can. But please...keep taking care of us." I said way more, it was a lengthy deal - but it was after that prayer...that I knew Taylor was ok. I knew that he was going to be fine, and I shouldn't worry about the fevers. I kept taking his temp when he would feel warm, and had it ever reached 100.4 I would have called the Dr and taken him in. But the emotional stress was gone. I had the confidence that everything was going to be ok.

 

take a deep sigh of relief, becca. your baby is alright.

 

Saturday was a beautiful day. I felt like normal, Tay hadn't had a fever for about 24 hrs, and the sun was shining. We spent the day as a happy little family doing easter activites all day long, and then had friends over that evening. It was the happiest most perfect day we've had...in a long time. The kids were well behaved, we just played together and had fun. No stress. Nothing to worry about. Just a great great day. I ditched James with the kids for a little bit that evening, and I can't say how the kids behaved while I was gone shopping, but - for the time that I Was present, everything was good.

 

Sunday morning. I woke up not feeling well. The kids did their easter baskets and found hidden eggs around the house. I got them ready for church, and James and the kids headed out the door. I went and layed down with Taylor.

 

By the time they got home from church I knew what was wrong. I had a breast infection/mastitis. I had a fever. My body ached all over, I could barely lift Taylor I felt so weak. Not to mention my chest was extremely sore...you have no idea. I had this happen 4 times when Grace was a newborn, so I knew exactly what it was. I called my Dr and asked if he could call in the antibiotic for me. In the past, they had done that (it was 5 yrs ago, though...) He said that now they are required to have me checked before getting the antibiotic, because sometimes it's actually an absess instead. He explained that it takes 24 hrs for the antibiotic to take affect and if it's an absess, 24 hrs of thinking it's mastitis can make that absess spread and become a bigger problem. He had deliveries for most of the day and so he tried to find an insta care or something like that for us to go to - to make a long story short, I did not have an absess and we were able to pick up the anti biotics that evening on our way to a family easter dinner. (you may wonder why I was going anywhere when I felt that way...let's just say that I can fake feeling OK a lot better in front of people then at my own house. And being around people is distracting for me. Sitting at home with the baby while James and kids are gone..I would just be miserable. so I went.)

 

While we were at the dinner, I went upstairs to feed Taylor. While I Was up there I heard Rocky jumping down the stairs. I also heard Gma Russell tell him not to do that. And I'm pretty sure I heard someone else tell him not to do that. And then...I heard him jump, land, and scream. Let me just say he hadn't had a nap that day and had been very emotional all.day.long. So when he kept on screaming/qhining/crying/moping/complaining about it, I did not even care. I figured he was just being a baby. I was super mean and made him walk on his hurt foot.

 

When we got home, he still was throwing a huge fit about it. We put the kids to bed and he maintained crying for a very long time. When I got up to feed Taylor in the night I still heard rocky crying. That night was so miserable. My fever got up to almost 104 and Taylor was struggling with gas all night. James was amazing taking care of the both of us. I could barely move my body ached so badly. James would reach over and ask me how I was doing, and do what he could for me. He changed Tay's diaper, and he got up at like 6 and held Taylor and helped him with his gas for a couple hours until it was time for him to go to work. He was amazingly sweet and helpful.

When the kids woke up, Rocky walked into our room, and didn't complain about his foot. I was relieved he had finally given up on that. Until he walked out...and he started limping agian...and complaining that his toe hurt. Really, Rock?! SO I looked at his big toe, that he said hurt. It wasn't red. His toe wasn't swollen or discolored or mishapen or anything. I was certain he was fine, and probably just a cry for attention. My mom showed up shortly after (I had called her about my infection and asked if she would come assist me while I was waiting for the antibiotics to kick in so I could feel better) I told her about Rock's foot...she looked at it and voila! She noticed swelling. But being the smart lady she is, she wasn't looking JUST at his toe like I had. The whole top of his foot and around his ankle a lil bit were really swollen. I felt like an idiot for not noticing. That's when I knew I was wrong: Rocky really was hurt. And then I felt really really bad.

 

So...we made yet another freaking dr appointment. Verdict: broken foot. Really, it's a small fracture in the bone below his big toe I think...? and it should heal quickly. It's not in a cast, just a splint with an ace bandage. Rocky was AMAZING at the Dr and so happy.

Funny side note: Rocky kept saying how much it hurt. Until I mentioned the Dr. all of a sudden he was "fine" and it didn't hurt at all. however, he kept limping...and would crawl instead of walk at times. Then when the dr was feeling around his foot he would say "Does this hurt?" and Rocky would shake his head No. They did this over and over, until the Dr pushed on the fractured part of his foot - Rocky flinched, and his body tensed up - and the dr asked if it hurt...Rocky shook his head: No. it doesn't hurt. He was DETERMINED to not be hurt. I think he was so afraid of getting a shot or something? I don't know but everytime the Dr went over that spot the same thing happened. And When he looked at the Xray that's the same spot he saw a small fracture. Rocky was being pretty dang brave in his stubbornnes.

 

rocky loves his new cool shoe and has not complained once about his foot since he's had the splint on. I keep saying "What more could possibly happen?!!?" And my mom tells me not to say that, otherwise more things WILL happen. haha. She's probably right.

But at the same time...what more could possibly happen?!!? Within a 2 and a half week time period we have been to the dr/hospital 6 times, with a follow up appointment with an Orthapedic dr for Rocky this thursday, making 7 appointments in 3 weeks.

 

For. The. Love.

 

Adjusting to 3 kids has not been hard because Taylor has been a difficult transition. It hasbeen hard because of random days of bad behavior from the toddlers...and all.of.these.freakin.health.issues!!! I pray that we are done with Dr visits and that we can soon be a normal little family. It's almost laughable how it's just been one thing after another. Almost...

Taylor Alexander: The Birth Story

I should preface this with our birth plan. Which was to go the hypnobirthing style, but without all the self hypnosis aspects of it, haha. Basically I had certain breathing I needed to do, in bewtween contractions, another breathing during contractions, and then finally at the actual birth, a certain breathing to help baby out. The idea behind it is basically to stay completely relaxed, not think about pain, have zero fear - mind over matter type stuff. I like that. I know that I have willed my body to not get sick, or to get better quickly, and at times, almost on comand. I know that when I've run long races, as long as I was focused and not thinking about how tired I was or that I had shin splints, I could still run my regular pace and be fine. I believe in the power of the mind. And this was the ultimate test, for me, of how powerful MY mind could be.

James warned me not to make the birth of our child an "experiment" but he supported me through the hypnobirthing idea because he knew that's what I wanted to do. I did have a backup plan - if I could NOT stay on top of the pain, I was definitely getting an epidural, because the whole point for me was how long could I stay on top of the pain? And I had heard that transition was a time when most women ask for the epidural, and that being induced you can never go natural, and that once you let your mind think about the pain, it's extremely hard to get refocused. SO I didn't want to be dumb about it, or ultra stubborn. I really wanted to give it a try and see what would happen.

 

March 14th. 10:00 a.m. We checked into the hospital. There was an emergency right when we checked in so no one was actually able to get us going with the induction until 11:00. I was Strep B positive and had to have antibiotics for an hour prior to having my water broken. So we just sat there doing nothing for an hour, and at 12:30 my Dr broke my water. Contractions did not pick up on their own. So after an hour of trying that, they gave me a tiny but of pitocin to help get contractions. They only upped the pitocin one time after that, and finally contractions were strong and about 2 minutes apart. I was in Labor.

I thought I would be super awesome and take cool pics documenting the entire event. That lasted for...this picture, and the one below.

 

James was a great coach. He helped with the breathing we had practiced and made sure my body from head to toe stayed relaxed. He worked me through each contraction and was amazing. And if he saw me start to tense my feet or my hands at all, he would remind me to relax them. He was seriously great. Then...I got to 5.5 cm. Everyone told me this would be the turning point. And they were all RIGHT! haha. I started losing concentration during my contractions, James would pull me back in, reminding me to breathe how we practiced and watching for any tense parts of my body and reminding/helping  me to relax them, etc. He was great. I would ask for the epidural during a contraction and he told me he wasn't going to listen to anything I said during the contraction. He wanted me to decide when I wasn't feeling pain. We went through a few more contractions, and I reached 6cm. I was struggling even more with staying focused and would start breathing in a more panicky way. James kept doing all he could to keep me where I needed to be, but I Was starting to focus more on the pain. At this point, and in between contractions (haha),  I did come to the conclusion that although I felt it was physically possible for me to go naturally, I decided I didn't WANT to feel the pain. I didn't WANT to go through it that way, and I wanted to enjoy my births as I have in the past. James listened and recognized that it really was what I wanted and asked them to get an epidural. 

 

By the time Brady (epidural guy #1) got there, I was in severe pain. Knowing relief was on it's way, the pain was definitely intensified. Not to mention, he had me change positions to sitting up and curling over. This was the worst position for my labor pains. It made the contractions so much worse being in that position. By this point I was yelling and screaming (yes, just like in the movies. it's true. the movies are real.) through each contraction. James still worked with me and helped get through them, but all hypno sides of labor were out of my mind by this point. All I could think about was "when will this pain be over?" and other thoughts like "I'm going to die." Obviously I'm a little dramatic when I'm in lots of pain, and clearly I cannot get through what 16 yr olds at prom have done quietly in the bathroom. But I didn't care - relief was on its way. Or was it?

Brady attempted over and over AND OVER to get the epidural in. He would wait until I was done with a contraction, and then the nurses and James would support me and keep me still so he could try to get it in before the next contraction. He would attempt - and fail. After a long time of this. (about 30-40 min) I finally sputtered out "did you get it IN?!?!" and Brady said "no, I'm so sorry." my reply? "DAMN IT!!!!!" and then the next contraction started and I began yelling and screaming again. I would get ultra nauseated and kept feeling like I needed to puke - I did twice, but I swallowed it - and then in between contractions I would feel like passing out and could hardly stay in the present, if you will. I was crazy. Literally. My mind was everywhere. James said he would look in my eyes and he just could see fear/pain/craziness. Brady opted to go get a more experienced epidural guy called Jones.

 

 Jones came in, gave me the epidural, and as soon as he was done they checked me again - I was at a 9. Everyone got prepped thinking baby would be born any minute now. I started to feel a little relief. I was happy that at least I could end this birth in comfort and that I could rest and relax for a few minutes.But then they checked me again... I was still at a 9. They kept checking me every few minutes but I was not progressing. After about 30 minutes of this, suddenly my contractions started to get worse. I could feel them. Then I had to hold on to the side of the bed and grunt through them. And before I knew it, I was back to yelling, and then screaming through my contractions yet again. I had about 30 minutes of relief. That was it. James helped me roll over and saw liquid coming out of my back. The nurse came and tapped on the tape and they realized the tape was collecting the medicine, not my body. Awesome. I was pretty much in utter despair at this point and started sobbing "I didn't want to feel this!" and "I cant do it" was also a common phrase. During contractions I would just yell "I CANT DO THIS!" and "MY BACK!!!!" because seriously, my back was killing me. slowly. Not softly. They checked me again - still a 9!!! One of the nurses ran to get Jones to come and fix the epidural, since they didn't know how long I would continue to stay at a 9. Jones was in the process of helping someone else out, but they said he would come soon. I had 2 nurses and James helping me through each contraction, holding a bag for me to puke in if I needed, reminding me to keep breathing, James tried to keep me looking at him and stay focused - they all helped me so much to get through each one of those freaking contractions. Even though I was an insane person, I don't know what I would have done if they had not all been there.

 

 One nurse was less helpful. She came in to find out "what all the screaming was about?" Are you freaking kidding me right now?! Stupid lady, THIS IS LABOR AND DELIVERY. What do you THINK all the screaming is about? I have a child coming out of my freaking, well....anyway - you know.

 

Jones still had not come back to fix it, but Dr. Ollerton came in, soooo sad to see me in so much pain. They checked me again (I had been at a 9 for an hour and a half at this point) And he never said I was at a 10, but another contraction came and I started yelling "I'm pushing, I can't help it, I'm pushing!" So they put the stirrups up and it was time to push. I kept screaming and crying "I CANT DO THIS!!!!" and they kept telling me that I could. I was basically an insane person who had ZERO control over my body. Ollerton definitely recognized I needed to be out of this pain ASAP, and didn't wait for contractions to get the pushing going. He had me push once, cut an e-pee-see-ot-omy (I only knew that because I saw him reach over for the tool to cut with. I was in so much pain that I didn't even notice that lil snip snip) He had me push 2 more times right in a row and baby was OUT! It literally took less then a minute once I started pushing.

 

It was over. My baby boy was born.

 

My mind and body were in complete shock. My entire body was shaking out of control and I still felt like my mind was elsewhere. They handed my baby to me, but I was so out of it that when they laid him on me, I kind of just stared at him like "oh. its a baby." but I couldn't think about it, I couldn't think about anything, my mind was truly gone elsewhere. They took him to clean him up and I tried to calm down.

 

While they were cleaning Taylor. My eyes look so...worn out. And there's the lil blue pukey bag right next to me. yay!

It was INSANE.They got him cleaned up, I got stitched up (thankfully they had numbing for that at least!) and then they handed me my baby yet again. This time I was able to look at him as my own and fall in love with him as I did with my others. He weighed in at 9lbs even, 21.5 inches long. He has lots of dark dark hair and a cute lil pug nose. And of course the chubby clary cheeks is a given. We are smitten!

 

It was traumatic to say the least. Both for myself and for James, I'd say. He said it was so hard to see me that way, and he talks about feeling so helpless. But truly - he was there for me just how I needed him to be, even if he didn't feel like he was doing anything for me - he was.

 

 I keep thinking about it every single day - and I can't get over how difficult and insane it was. I know that women can do this all the time and they are fine. I know that most women don't yell and scream with every.single.contration. But I did. And it was traumatic for me. I can't get over the fact that I TRIED to get the epidural, I HAD given up on going natural just like everyone said I would - and then I still had to go natural, but this time, against my will! haha. Be careful what you wish for, I guess...

 

So what did I learn from this?

1) I will get an epidural as soon as I check in next time around. I've had 2 good epidurals and they were given to me fairly soon after my water was broken. That would've been a good route to take this time around as well.

2) Jones did a GREAT job with my epidural with Grace, it was perfect. So although it didn't work out this time, you should know he is gerneally very good at what he does. I don't want him getting any bad rep, you know what I'm sayin?

3) Birthing a baby "naturally" was the most UNnatural thing I've ever done in my life. Somethings in life come naturally. Pooping. Peeing. Those are basics. Sex was fairly natural. Pregnancy felt natural, my body definitely felt like it was made for this purpose. Nursing...ok, fine, nursing has never felt natural to me. I do it, but it feels awkward. I know, I'm a weird mom. But birthing a child naturally was 100% UNnatural for me.

 

Thankfully both James and my mom have been here a ton and helped me and my recovery is going well. I feel pretty good, and Taylor is a great baby. The kids are adjusting and I think we are gonna be just fine with this 3 kid thing.

The kids love their new brother. We are having some behavioral issues on occassion but have discovered that if they each get some one on one time...they behave way better. They need to know we aren't 100% focused on Taylor. Even though...we kind of are. haha.

Happy family of 5!!!

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Sentimental

Well it's almost time. Tomorrow is my last day as a mother of 2. Something kind of bittersweet about that. I have loved being a mother of 2. 2 beautiful, wonderful, frustrating, adorable, sweet, anger-inducing, weirdo kids that I've enjoyed for 3 and a half years.

Some things you can't go back to. I know Taylor will only add to our family dynamic and we will enjoy it and love it as much as this. But there was just something amazing about being able to have 2 older kids, no babies, and jump in the car and go do things. I'm superly happy about having a baby, you all know this. But it'll be new. It'll be a transition. We will love it. I'm just saying I've enjoyed my 2 littles.

Tomorrow I want to do something special for them. I tried to make today fun by taking them out on a bike ride (I was walking, not riding a bike, haha) and letting them pick out goodies at the store, and having friends over to play, etc. I was even ultra patient with Grace while she did her homework, haha. Something I am SO NOT GOOD AT. I get frustrated pretty quickly. I'm learning, ok? Something just don't come naturally, and helping a 5 yr old learn to read in a loving and patient way is NOT natural for me. I re-read the teacher's "helpful hints" frequently to remind me how to respond and react so I don't get flustered. Today I did well with it.

 

Tomorrow, I want to have the kids pick out a lil toy or stuffed animal for Taylor and make him little cards or pictures to bring to the hospital when they meet him. But I also want to do something special...and I just don't know what. maybe read stories with them for-ev-er because they would love that. AGain....something I'm not good at. Really don't enjoy reading stories. Is that a terrible confession? I find most kid stories annnoying and way too long. I also don't do funny voices. I even try to do that sometimes...and I still sound monotone. Not a reader. But I know it's good for them so I attempt it once in awhile. That could be a good thing. I think just spending as much quality time with them as possible will be the best thing I can do.

 

Grace craves one on one time. We've been trying to do date nights with our kids the lsat couple of weeks. That has meant a lot to her. Rocky doesn't care too much, but he is super cute on a date. I told him that dad always hold my hand on dates, so Rocky held my hand. I told him that when you're on a date, you should always open the girl's door for her. He tried soooo hard to open the door to the store (yeh...we went shopping. I'm such a good date-planner!) but he couldn't do it. His attempt was too cute, though.

 

I guess I'm just trying to bring myself back to what's the most important. I've been so wrapped up in getting every.single.little.thing ready for Taylor to come, and to get my house the best I've ever gotten our home with decor, organization, and cleanliness all at the same time - I've kind of let go of some of the good things we had going. SO despite new little arriving and our dynmaics changing drastically - I want to refocus on the important things and remember some of my favorite quotes that I will share with you here, thanks to good 'ole pinterest. One last random comment with improving my parenting, my friend shared a story about how she was having a hard time just yelling at her kids (who can relate?!!? I know I Can!) and she prayed for help with it, and the thought came to her "yelling damages their spirits."

Whoa.

I don't know why, but that hit me really hard. I don't want to damage their spirits. I just want them to be quiet while I'm on the phone, is that too much to ask? I mean, I'm not trying to damage their spirits, I'm just trying to get Grace to freaking open her mouth so I can brush those dirty teeth, and for her to let me get her hair wet so I can wash it already. I don't want to damage her spirit, I just want her to be clean! IT seems silling when I look at it that way. Why would I get mad, why would I YELL over those things? It seems I lose my temper over a lot of the daily getting-ready type events. I've been working on not losing it over messes. And I have to say I've improved a lot on that score. But getting hair done, teeth brushed, bodies bathed and hair washed....oh man, I lose it 100%. It shouldn't be hard, but it is. So I talked to my friend and she said instead of yelling she just happily says "ok I'm setting the timer, go to time out." istead of yelling at them. What?! I like it. I needed that reminder. Especially since I'll be zombie mom with little sleep soon, and hormones getting all out of whack all over again, so I need all the hlep I can get in this department.

Anyway, that being said, and me trying to get refocused on the most important, here are some good quotes to think about.

"The things you say, the tone of your voice, the anger or calm of your words—these things are noticed by your children and by others. They see and learn both the kind and the unkind things we say or do. Nothing exposes our true selves more than how we treat one another in the home."
-Joseph B. Wirthlin, April 2005.

 

 

 

 

 

Here's to be a mother of 2 for one more day, becoming a mother of 3, and praying that I can be the mother these sweet spirits need. I truly do love being a mom. That's why I've wanted another baby for so long now - because of how much I love my other kiddos. Grace and Rocky are the reason for me wanting more. Love them.

Throw Back Thursday

 

Ok, so I'm gonna have this baby a week from today. That.is.crazy. But mostly super exciting and I cannot WAIT to meet the lil guy! Seriously, DYING to meet him. So are my kids. We all talk about it about 20 times every single day.

 

This post is called throw back thursday because I'm' still not on instagram and I wish I could participate in the #tbt things that happen all over facebook, but no, I don't do that. I should just get instagram. But....anyway. Here is MY OWN throw back thursday.

Lately I've had a lot of comments about "you're all baby" and stuff like that - because I am the one who always comments on how huge I've gotten this pregnancy, and though people can't deny my tummy is huge, they all keep saying that my legs, face, arms, etc have stayed small. But guess what? When I say that, I am not like...feeling badly. I just know that with Grace I gained 40 lbs, with Rocky I gained 35 (though I hadn't lost all of Grace's weight, so my end weight was the highest with him) and so far with Taylor (that's his name) I've gained 45 lbs with a week to go. So when I talk about how big I am or how uncomfortable I am etc, it's because I am. And that's ok. Truly. It's worth a baby, I don't care. And if I did care, I would have watched what I was eating more, so there you go.

All of that being said, with this pregnancy even I have felt like it's all been gained between my neck and thighs. haha. My face, arms, legs, feet, etc haven't seemed to get bigger or swollen or anything. So I figured that the reason I feel so much bigger this time around is because my previous pregnancies I've gained weight all.over.my.body. To see if I was remembering correctly I went down memory lane and looked at my 8th-9th month and delivery photos for both Grace and Rocky. Oh my...I am dying laughing. It is SO funny to see how things have changed. And how some things haven't. haha. Here we go:

 

1) Christmas eve 2007. Grace was born Jan 14th 2008. So this is just about 3 weeks before I had her. my face definitely seems chubby - but I cannot stop looking at those ridiculous christmas eve PJ pants that I attempted to make for James and myself. they were HUGE on both of us, and seriously, I had no idea what I was doing. Also we are both wearing James' aeropostale sweatshirts. aren't so cute and twinsie? or just homeless-ish...either way.

 

 

 

2) back to the homeless comment....what in the hell is happening in this photo? Now I know that we were poor. And I love our poor little christmas tree. It's so cute and has the bare minimum on it. I don't remember us getting that many gifts though...I have to say that's more presents then what we did this year for each other. haha. But let's not forget, two of those packages are the ugly PJ pants above...doesn't really count as a gift, when it is so painful, does it? Ok, what we CAN tell from this photo...that beanie was way too small. That shirt is way too small. And the tank top underneathe appears to only be making it down about halfway across my belly. Good times. The jeans aren't terrible, per se, except the hole in the knee. At this time...holes in your pants were still a sign of worn-out clothing, not a reason to pay more for them. OMG and you can barely see them, but I'm wearing these polka dot shoes that I LOVED. and seriously...they were awesome. I miss those shoes. James does not.

 

 

3) Christmas card photo!!! Literally dressed our best. I actually think we are pretty freakin cute in this photo. My face looks like it's my face now? maybe not. I don't know. But look at JAMES! isn't he just adorable?! So cute.

 

 

 

4) Grace's Birth-day! Jan. 14th 2008. I look tired, my face looks chubb-chubb-chubby, but look at that 9lb 10oz beautiful baby?!!? oh my goodness, so sweet. Little did we know what was ahead of us...

 

5) June 2009, a few weeks before Rocky was born July 17th. Face...maybe it's chubby, a little. but it doesn't seem like a lot. I did my hair that way every.single.day that summer. Seriously, there was one day that I actually did it for reals, but otherwise, this was my hair-do. And Grace! We thought she was SO grown up. haha. what a cute BABY girl she is.

 

 

 

 

6) remember the ONE day I Said I did my hair that summer? It was this day: picture day. And this picture...oh my...taken just a few days before I had Rocky, if I remember right. It definitely shows chubby face, chubby arms, and exploding middle!!!! my poor poor body. haha. wowza. And my bangs are like plastered to my head because it was so hot and I was SO sweaty. That's why I always did the 2 braids...

 

 

 

7) Rocky's birth-day! July 17th 2009.  LOVE this picture. I have no problem with how I look in this photo. Seriously. It's a cute cute family photo.

 

So basically all I figured out was that my middle gets consistently larger with each baby. haha. And tha tI am super sper excited to be posting similar photos of us in a hospital, with a new baby boy in the not-too-distant-future.

So SO excited.