I worried a lot before Jilly arrived about how to get her on a schedule. I kept trying to picture in my mind how exactly I would make it so she would understand when to sleep, eat, play, nap, etc., knowing that it would be important to do so, but baffled at how you get a baby to do those things. I'm surprised at the fact that she seems to have a schedule of her own that I've just adopted. Maybe I'm just lucky, but in my head I never pictured a two week old having any structure to her day. Although, I pictured a two week old as crying all the time, never sleeping, and pretty much doing nothing exciting or interesting besides laying there between crying and small amounts of sleep, to be honest. I was wrong.
Jillian's day is pretty much clockwork. We wake up at 7:30-7:45 a.m., get a fresh diaper, then eat breakfast in bed while Mommy watches the tail end of some celebrity gossip show on AFN and the start of Law & Order (which, for the record, doesn't interest me much but does make time go by much faster during feedings). We get up, Mommy puts on some music, and we sing, cuddle, dance, and play until shortly after 9:00 a.m. when we take our mid-morning nap. This is when Mommy enjoys a cup of hot tea, plays on the internet, writes blogs (sometimes, hee hee), and showers and gets ready for the day. We wake up a little after 11:00 and eat, then play and have tummy time and snuggle until 1:00 p.m., when we eat again then take our afternoon nap. Mommy sometimes sneaks a little nap here, too, or she calls her mommy for a nice chat. Around 3:30 we wake up and eat, then after snuggles have some bouncy chair or swing time to look around and make funny noises. We eat again at 6:00 or 6:30, depending on when Mommy decides to eat her own dinner (and we usually plan our food for as soon as she gets done fixing hers without fail). We spend some time on the couch playing with Mommy again or take a bath here instead, then at 8:00 we eat again, and then it's bed time. We wake up to eat at 11, sleep, 3 a.m., sleep, then start our day again at 7:30. Although we have occaisionally gone until 8:30 before waking up.
I'm really satisfied with this. She's always so happy, and that makes me happy. It's amazing to me how routine she is, and it makes it easy for me to plan my day. I feel so lucky to have such a cooperative little baby.
Seriously, I thought I'd have a terror on my hands. I wanted a baby so bad, I had myself convinced that when it finally happened I would have a demon child to deal with, because I couldn't possibly get lucky enough to finally have a baby and have her be perfect. But instead, I have a baby who's as close to perfect as you can get. It's baffling, lol.
Speaking of baffling (interesting segway here), Marshall is gone this week doing the Med Board thing. He left on the 2nd, and won't be back until the 10th. I'm getting pretty nervous about what the outcome of this will be. He did meet with his attorney yesterday afternoon, and his attorney is very confident he'll be able to get Marshall returned to duty. Yay! I hope this isn't just a case of giving us false hope. I don't want to rug ripped out from underneath us, so to speak. It makes me really happy to hear this though, and I could tell in talking to Marshall last night that he feels way better about the situation, too. So now we can just hope that the attorney is right and Marsh will still be an active duty Airman next week. His hearing will probably be on Monday. He has to get a few last minute things turned into the attorney today to show he's good at his job.
I wish I could be there with him. He's at Lackland Air Force Base right now for this, and won't have anything to do but relax this weekend. He's planning a trip to the Riverwalk for some shopping, and I jealously want to be there, too. I can imagine it in my head: me, Marsh, and Jilly strolling around, looking at all the stores and in the mall, stopping for some Mexican food (ooh chimichangas!), and enjoying our day together. I miss him a lot, especially in the evenings. Jilly can get kind of fussy right before her 11 p.m. feeding as I'm getting ready for bed and changing her diaper, and I really miss having him here to hold her while I brush my teeth and put my PJ's on. He'll be home soon, though, hopefully with good news. Hopefully I'll get a phone call from him today with an update on when his hearing is officially!
Friday, February 4, 2011
Monday, January 31, 2011
Things I've learned about being a Mother
Jillian is 11 days old now, and we're starting to get into a routine. We're settling nicely into our mother-daughter roles. The transition has been both the hardest and the easiest things I've ever done: hard to have to change how I do every little thing, yet easy because of how natural and welcome the change seems to be. She's almost 2 weeks old already, and she's changed so much, both in looks and behavior. She's awake a lot more throughout the day. She's a great sleeper though, I'm one of the lucky ones. We usually go to sleep after our 11 feeding, and then wake up at 3, then at 7 for the day. Then we take a midmorning nap from around 9-11, and then we're up and alert for the rest of the day. We're just starting to be awake enough to do some tummy time. It's amazing to me how well she can lift her head! I had her sitting in her boppy pillow so it was kind of propping her up, and I'm not joking Jilly was trying to sit up. Smart little girl!
I've learned more in the past 11 days about myself and life in general than I realized I could in such a short time. Now, I'm sharing some of my favorite, sometimes funny, things that I've learned about mommyhood with all of you.
- Babies poop. A lot. I obviously knew already that babies would need to go #2, but I didn't realize how much! She is a poop factory! Maybe it's because she's still getting rid of some of the jaundice, but she poops with almost every diaper. And it smells. Whoever said breastfed babies don't have smelly poop is a liar!
- Learning to breastfeed was the hardest, most nervewracking experience of my life. Those first few days were brutal. She cried constantly, I was constantly trying to get her to eat, and a lot of the time she wouldn't even latch on. I cried more about breastfeeding before my milk came in than I've cried about almost anything. It's a helpless feeling as you're trying to get your baby to eat and they won't. But once my milk came in, this little girl turned into a piggy! Now, it's the best decision I could have made and I am so happy to do it for her.
- Guys still get to sleep 8 hours a night uninterrupted, and will still complain the next day about not getting a good night's rest. Seriously, I've just let this one go. I get up with her, change her, feed her, and get her back to sleep while he snores away. It doesn't bother me much, but it cracks me up when I hear him telling his friends the next day how tired he is from having that new baby in the house.
- Daddy can be the biggest and best help you could possibly ask for, especially when they love baby as much as Marshall love Jilly. He's always more than willing to hold and snuggle her when I need to do something and she's being fussy. He'll take her in for a nap, and lay there cuddling her for a while. He loves us both, and treats us both so wonderfully. He's helped me every step of the way wholeheartedly. I wish his parents could be here to see him be such an amazing dad. They would be so proud to see him. I know I am. ♥
- No matter how prepared you think you are to become a mom, when the moment is finally upon you, you realize a.) you don't know jack about being a mother, b.) you're expected to take care of this person yourself, with no one to do it for you, and c.) you are terrified to your core. My nurse said 70% of new moms have a breakdown at the hospital, and the other 30% have one at home. Mine was at the hospital, when I was being released. I'll be honest, I was terrified, having a panic attack, about how I was having trouble breastfeeding and now I had to take her home. Who was going to help me? Aaaahh! After arriving home, we adjusted pretty quickly. I guess I just needed to get all those fears out before moving forward.
- Swelling doesn't end when the pregnancy does. In fact, it can get much worse. All that water and extra blood has to go somewhere. For many, it disperses itself throughout various parts of the body. For me, it all went into my ankles and feet. I had tree trunk legs for almost a week before finally getting back to normal.
- Breastfeeding means a lot of work for the mommy, especially when your child is like mine and won't take a bottle of pumped milk for anything. All she wants is the boob! But it is so rewarding. I cannot imagine doing anything else. I need it just as much as she does now. Plus, it helps everything shrink back up quicker, and I am loving that!
- The stares from strangers doesn't end when the pregnancy does, either. Just instead of staring at you for being so big they're trying to figure out how you're even able to be upright, they're staring at your little baby. It's okay, but when they try to touch, then I bite. :)
- Explosvie farts. Enough said.
- Babies don't care if the diaper is off, or if you've just cleaned off a massive poop-plosion and they're all clean and shiny again. They'll poop on you and not even think twice. Or they'll pee, sending a river of ickies all over themselves, you, and the changing station.
- The sick kids at the pediatricians office waiting room are the most horrifying things ever. Seriously, every time we go in for a doctor's appointment and a snot covered 2 year old starts running over to us pointing at the baby and trying to touch her, I want to curl up into a protective ball around her and start hissing like a cat in a turf war.
- It can be frustrating when you're trying to get something accomplished and little baby is being a fuss and only wants to be held by you. But it's equal parts frustration and amazement, since it's also the coolest feeling ever to know that she needs you, and wants you, and loves you enough to be upset when you let her go. ♥
- Hearing your baby cry when you are unable to get to her (like when you're in the shower) or unable to get her to calm down is the most heartbreaking experience.
- Best, most warm and fuzzy inducing moments of my life: when she's laying on me with her chest against mine sleeping, and she snuggles her head right up under my chin.
- Nature really does make you forget. For the first week I would get nauseous just thinking about the possibility of going through pregnancy and labor again, and now I'm already starting to forget the horrors and think about labor with amazement. I'm trying to remind myself how much it sucked, but I just can't remember being 9 months pregnant, or how bad exactly it hurt to have her coming out of me. For an experience so painful, it's a wonder to me that I'm starting to forget about it!
- Her smile.
- The number one thing I've learned, though, is that no one could possibly have prepared me for how overwhelming and wonderful my love for her would be. Sometimes, I look at her in total amazement and get all teary eyed just because she's mine. We like to stare at each other. I feel pride, happiness, tenderness, love, and just about every positive emotion on the planet. I still can't believe she's mine.
I want her to stay this little forever. I'm cherishing every day and each moment, because she's changing so quickly. Some day she'll be a little girl instead of a baby, and I want to remember exactly what this feels like. I love being a mommy! This is exactly what I was meant to do with my life. I thank God every day for this little sweetheart he's brought into my life. By the way, as I'm writing this list I keep adding more and more things at the last minute that are amazing to me. It seems I can't stop thinking about things I love about being a mommy to Jillian. I'm cutting myself off now, before this turns into a book.
I've learned more in the past 11 days about myself and life in general than I realized I could in such a short time. Now, I'm sharing some of my favorite, sometimes funny, things that I've learned about mommyhood with all of you.
- Babies poop. A lot. I obviously knew already that babies would need to go #2, but I didn't realize how much! She is a poop factory! Maybe it's because she's still getting rid of some of the jaundice, but she poops with almost every diaper. And it smells. Whoever said breastfed babies don't have smelly poop is a liar!
- Learning to breastfeed was the hardest, most nervewracking experience of my life. Those first few days were brutal. She cried constantly, I was constantly trying to get her to eat, and a lot of the time she wouldn't even latch on. I cried more about breastfeeding before my milk came in than I've cried about almost anything. It's a helpless feeling as you're trying to get your baby to eat and they won't. But once my milk came in, this little girl turned into a piggy! Now, it's the best decision I could have made and I am so happy to do it for her.
- Guys still get to sleep 8 hours a night uninterrupted, and will still complain the next day about not getting a good night's rest. Seriously, I've just let this one go. I get up with her, change her, feed her, and get her back to sleep while he snores away. It doesn't bother me much, but it cracks me up when I hear him telling his friends the next day how tired he is from having that new baby in the house.
- Daddy can be the biggest and best help you could possibly ask for, especially when they love baby as much as Marshall love Jilly. He's always more than willing to hold and snuggle her when I need to do something and she's being fussy. He'll take her in for a nap, and lay there cuddling her for a while. He loves us both, and treats us both so wonderfully. He's helped me every step of the way wholeheartedly. I wish his parents could be here to see him be such an amazing dad. They would be so proud to see him. I know I am. ♥
- No matter how prepared you think you are to become a mom, when the moment is finally upon you, you realize a.) you don't know jack about being a mother, b.) you're expected to take care of this person yourself, with no one to do it for you, and c.) you are terrified to your core. My nurse said 70% of new moms have a breakdown at the hospital, and the other 30% have one at home. Mine was at the hospital, when I was being released. I'll be honest, I was terrified, having a panic attack, about how I was having trouble breastfeeding and now I had to take her home. Who was going to help me? Aaaahh! After arriving home, we adjusted pretty quickly. I guess I just needed to get all those fears out before moving forward.
- Swelling doesn't end when the pregnancy does. In fact, it can get much worse. All that water and extra blood has to go somewhere. For many, it disperses itself throughout various parts of the body. For me, it all went into my ankles and feet. I had tree trunk legs for almost a week before finally getting back to normal.
- Breastfeeding means a lot of work for the mommy, especially when your child is like mine and won't take a bottle of pumped milk for anything. All she wants is the boob! But it is so rewarding. I cannot imagine doing anything else. I need it just as much as she does now. Plus, it helps everything shrink back up quicker, and I am loving that!
- The stares from strangers doesn't end when the pregnancy does, either. Just instead of staring at you for being so big they're trying to figure out how you're even able to be upright, they're staring at your little baby. It's okay, but when they try to touch, then I bite. :)
- Explosvie farts. Enough said.
- Babies don't care if the diaper is off, or if you've just cleaned off a massive poop-plosion and they're all clean and shiny again. They'll poop on you and not even think twice. Or they'll pee, sending a river of ickies all over themselves, you, and the changing station.
- The sick kids at the pediatricians office waiting room are the most horrifying things ever. Seriously, every time we go in for a doctor's appointment and a snot covered 2 year old starts running over to us pointing at the baby and trying to touch her, I want to curl up into a protective ball around her and start hissing like a cat in a turf war.
- It can be frustrating when you're trying to get something accomplished and little baby is being a fuss and only wants to be held by you. But it's equal parts frustration and amazement, since it's also the coolest feeling ever to know that she needs you, and wants you, and loves you enough to be upset when you let her go. ♥
- Hearing your baby cry when you are unable to get to her (like when you're in the shower) or unable to get her to calm down is the most heartbreaking experience.
- Best, most warm and fuzzy inducing moments of my life: when she's laying on me with her chest against mine sleeping, and she snuggles her head right up under my chin.
- Nature really does make you forget. For the first week I would get nauseous just thinking about the possibility of going through pregnancy and labor again, and now I'm already starting to forget the horrors and think about labor with amazement. I'm trying to remind myself how much it sucked, but I just can't remember being 9 months pregnant, or how bad exactly it hurt to have her coming out of me. For an experience so painful, it's a wonder to me that I'm starting to forget about it!
- Her smile.
- The number one thing I've learned, though, is that no one could possibly have prepared me for how overwhelming and wonderful my love for her would be. Sometimes, I look at her in total amazement and get all teary eyed just because she's mine. We like to stare at each other. I feel pride, happiness, tenderness, love, and just about every positive emotion on the planet. I still can't believe she's mine.
I want her to stay this little forever. I'm cherishing every day and each moment, because she's changing so quickly. Some day she'll be a little girl instead of a baby, and I want to remember exactly what this feels like. I love being a mommy! This is exactly what I was meant to do with my life. I thank God every day for this little sweetheart he's brought into my life. By the way, as I'm writing this list I keep adding more and more things at the last minute that are amazing to me. It seems I can't stop thinking about things I love about being a mommy to Jillian. I'm cutting myself off now, before this turns into a book.
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Jillian's Birth Story
My daughter is sleeping peacefully away in her bouncer, so I thought I'd write a post about her birth to fill you all in on the craziness. It definately wasn't easy, and was actually slightly scary for all involved, but we're happily home and healthy now. Here's how our journey ended, in all it's traumatic glory.
I woke up in the wee hours of the morning on the 18th to go pee for the umpteenth time and noticed my panties were all wet. I didn't think much of it, just was mildly irritated, changed them and went back to sleep. When I woke up for the day, it was the same thing. I was starting to get a little worried, wondering what it was. It wasn't until a few hours later, when we were walking around the BX and I had been to the bathroom 3 times in 30 minutes to change out a little pantiliner I was wearing that I realized "Oh my gosh, I think I'm leaking water." We got home and called L&D, and were on our way.
By the time we got into L&D, it was around 3 pm on the 18th. So by my now estimation, my water had been leaking for probably 8-9 hours. Yeesh. If you haven't ever had to get checked for leaking amniotic fluid, they use a little strip of paper that turns blue if it detects amniotic fluid. But since there's a few factors that could affect the reading, they take a swab similar to getting a pap done and check it under a microscope for a ferning pattern. Well my paper test turned blue right away, but my ferning test came back inconclusive, so the nurse said no, I probably wasn't leaking water. The doctor did an ultrasound, which showed my fluid levels were slightly depleted, but it did show there was a pocket around baby that looked okay. He said I was probably just peeing on myself or had a slight yeast infections, and it probably wasn't my water, but to come back if I started soaking through more than 2 pads in an hour.
Now this is a really weird answer from a doctor, considering it's recommended your baby be born within 24 hours of a leak due to the risk of infection. I was really unhappy to be sent home, especially b/c I just knew it was my water. I started having more frequent and stronger contractions that night, but always irregular. An appointment with my midwife for my 38 week check-up was the next morning, so I planned to talk to her in detail about what happened and get some answers as to what was going on with me. I stayed up pretty much the whole night worried. What was wrong with me, if not my water?
When I filled my midwife in on what happened, she was really concerned about me. She also seemed shocked and apalled that I was turned away with what so obviously sounded like my water being broken. My blood pressure ended up being pretty high (I attribute it to stressing about my water and losing water), so she sent me up to L&D to meet with the midwife on call, who was going to personally perform the amniotic fluid check for me and monitor my blood pressure for a bit. The midwife did the check, and said she didn't even have to look at the slide b/c she could see so much of it pooling that it was obviously my water. We had no idea how long it had been broken, just knew it was over 24 hours since I noticed the leaking. It was decided I needed to be induced since my risk for infection was pretty high.
I started pitocin around 1:00 pm on the 19th. By 2:30, I was in full on active labor, and coping well with it. They upped my pitocin again an hour or so later, and suddenly my contractions were one on top of the other with no break in between. It was around 5:00 when I was checked to be 7 cm and 100% effaced, and my pitocin was turned off in hopes to give me a break between contractions. I decided then to throw my natural childbirth dreams out the window and get the epidural. I think it was 6:00 or so when the lady came in to give me my drugs, and by 6:30 I was happy as a clam and laughing about having no feeling in my legs. She did an awesome job, because I could still move my legs and feet, just not very effectively. It really helped when it came time to push, since I could feel all the urges to push.
Things started getting hairy around 10:30. First off, I started to feel like I needed to push, and was checked to be almost fully dilated, except for a small lip of cervix on the right that needed to go away. By 11:00, I had to constanly pant to get through not pushing, as it was still there. Shortly after that, I started getting numb and tingly in my fingers and face. I thought it was just because I was holding in a baby, but the nurse kept taking my temperature. I started pushing at 11:30, with them taking my temperature after each pushing contraction. It was rising apparently, and so was my heart rate. By 12:30, Jillian's head was in sight even between pushes, but I was feeling really weird. I can't describe it, but I felt completely unwell. I thought I was just tired. Shortly after that, the nurse ran to get the doctor, then came back bearing some news.
Because my water was broken for so long, I had developed an infection called chorioamnionitis. Basically, my amniotic sac was infected, and it was developing into a huge health risk for me and Jillian. My temperature was up to around 102 degrees. My heart rate had increased to be faster than my baby's, with being around 150 between pushes and 160-170 during pushes. Her heart rate was around 160 between pushes, and going down to 140-150 during pushes. Our heart rates were literally crossing each other, and they were having a hard time discerning whose was whose. At 1:00 a.m., the doctor came in and said that since Jillian was so close to crowning, she was going to use a vacuum extractor to get baby out, as it was becoming urgent that she needed to get here for both of our sakes, and I was too weak with fever to continue doing an effective job on my own. If she hadn't been so close already I would have had to have an emergency c-section. It only took about 5 minutes or so after the vacuum was in place until Jillian was born. It hurt like hell, and I tore pretty badly, but she was 100% perfectly healthy.
Jillian Rene` was born at 1:22 a.m. on January 20, 2011. She weighed 7 lb. 14 oz., and was 20 inches long. Despite my health and complicaions, Jillian scored a 7 on her 1 minute Apgar and a 9 at 5 minutes. She was 100% perfectly healthy. She did, however, have to go to the NICU for 8 hours for monitoring just to be safe that the infection wouldn't present itself in her after birth. We were both given antibiotics periodically for 48 hours following delivery. I got to spend a half hour with her before they took her away, then got to visit her twice briefly before they released her to me on the mommy and baby ward. She got to stay with me the whole time, except for one little mishap. She somehow ripped the IV out of her arm, and had to go back to the NICU to get it replaced. It took them 3 hours to find a good vein, and my poor baby returned to me with an arm full of poke marks. It completely broke my heart.
My recovery has been good. My fever went away pretty quickly after her birth, and my heart rate and blood pressure returned to normal, too. My doctor said I was an awesome pusher, and if I wasn't sick she would have been out sooner. It's scary to think about, really, that if I lived 100 years ago I would have probably been one of the women who died during childbirth. I am so thankful for medical intervention and advancements to be able to determine how sick and was and do what needed to be done. It wasn't as scary at the time while all of it was happening, since I was just worried about Jill, but now, *shudder*.
And the irony that shows this story comes full circle in a way: the doctor who discharged me was the same doctor who sent me home the night before. The look on his face when he saw me and was looking over my chart was priceless. It changed from happy doctor to very uncomfortable really quickly.
Marshall is the best dad in the world. I knew he would be a great one, but watching him be so beyond-great-more-like-fantastic-amazing-wonderful with her has been one of the best parts of this experience. And she really loves her Daddy, too. I love the way they look at each other. It makes me teary-eyed just thinking about it.
A funny highlight from labor and pushing: After the vacuum was on and I was pushing, things went from 0-60 really quick. At one point, probably while her head was coming out, the labor scene looked like the following scenario. There were a good 8 people at least in the room crowded around, yelling at me to "Push harder! Harder! You can push harder than that! Lisa Push Harder!!!" all at the same time. Meanwhile, I"m yelling "It hurts! It hurts! It really hurts! Ow, it burns! Waaaah!" between pushes and grunting like an animal during. Suddenly, Marshall, who had stayed relatively quite and composed during this whole process, starts hysterically crying and shouting out words that sound like a frantic mixture of "Push! Oh my God! Woah!" and other inaudible, excited noises. It was at that point that I knew something was happening, and right after that I was suddenly looking at my daughter.
I love her so much! She's the most beautiful baby I've ever seen. I don't even care if I'm biased, I'm calling it. Jillian is the most beautiful, perfect baby girl to ever have been born. And she is all ours. ♥
I woke up in the wee hours of the morning on the 18th to go pee for the umpteenth time and noticed my panties were all wet. I didn't think much of it, just was mildly irritated, changed them and went back to sleep. When I woke up for the day, it was the same thing. I was starting to get a little worried, wondering what it was. It wasn't until a few hours later, when we were walking around the BX and I had been to the bathroom 3 times in 30 minutes to change out a little pantiliner I was wearing that I realized "Oh my gosh, I think I'm leaking water." We got home and called L&D, and were on our way.
By the time we got into L&D, it was around 3 pm on the 18th. So by my now estimation, my water had been leaking for probably 8-9 hours. Yeesh. If you haven't ever had to get checked for leaking amniotic fluid, they use a little strip of paper that turns blue if it detects amniotic fluid. But since there's a few factors that could affect the reading, they take a swab similar to getting a pap done and check it under a microscope for a ferning pattern. Well my paper test turned blue right away, but my ferning test came back inconclusive, so the nurse said no, I probably wasn't leaking water. The doctor did an ultrasound, which showed my fluid levels were slightly depleted, but it did show there was a pocket around baby that looked okay. He said I was probably just peeing on myself or had a slight yeast infections, and it probably wasn't my water, but to come back if I started soaking through more than 2 pads in an hour.
Now this is a really weird answer from a doctor, considering it's recommended your baby be born within 24 hours of a leak due to the risk of infection. I was really unhappy to be sent home, especially b/c I just knew it was my water. I started having more frequent and stronger contractions that night, but always irregular. An appointment with my midwife for my 38 week check-up was the next morning, so I planned to talk to her in detail about what happened and get some answers as to what was going on with me. I stayed up pretty much the whole night worried. What was wrong with me, if not my water?
When I filled my midwife in on what happened, she was really concerned about me. She also seemed shocked and apalled that I was turned away with what so obviously sounded like my water being broken. My blood pressure ended up being pretty high (I attribute it to stressing about my water and losing water), so she sent me up to L&D to meet with the midwife on call, who was going to personally perform the amniotic fluid check for me and monitor my blood pressure for a bit. The midwife did the check, and said she didn't even have to look at the slide b/c she could see so much of it pooling that it was obviously my water. We had no idea how long it had been broken, just knew it was over 24 hours since I noticed the leaking. It was decided I needed to be induced since my risk for infection was pretty high.
I started pitocin around 1:00 pm on the 19th. By 2:30, I was in full on active labor, and coping well with it. They upped my pitocin again an hour or so later, and suddenly my contractions were one on top of the other with no break in between. It was around 5:00 when I was checked to be 7 cm and 100% effaced, and my pitocin was turned off in hopes to give me a break between contractions. I decided then to throw my natural childbirth dreams out the window and get the epidural. I think it was 6:00 or so when the lady came in to give me my drugs, and by 6:30 I was happy as a clam and laughing about having no feeling in my legs. She did an awesome job, because I could still move my legs and feet, just not very effectively. It really helped when it came time to push, since I could feel all the urges to push.
Things started getting hairy around 10:30. First off, I started to feel like I needed to push, and was checked to be almost fully dilated, except for a small lip of cervix on the right that needed to go away. By 11:00, I had to constanly pant to get through not pushing, as it was still there. Shortly after that, I started getting numb and tingly in my fingers and face. I thought it was just because I was holding in a baby, but the nurse kept taking my temperature. I started pushing at 11:30, with them taking my temperature after each pushing contraction. It was rising apparently, and so was my heart rate. By 12:30, Jillian's head was in sight even between pushes, but I was feeling really weird. I can't describe it, but I felt completely unwell. I thought I was just tired. Shortly after that, the nurse ran to get the doctor, then came back bearing some news.
Because my water was broken for so long, I had developed an infection called chorioamnionitis. Basically, my amniotic sac was infected, and it was developing into a huge health risk for me and Jillian. My temperature was up to around 102 degrees. My heart rate had increased to be faster than my baby's, with being around 150 between pushes and 160-170 during pushes. Her heart rate was around 160 between pushes, and going down to 140-150 during pushes. Our heart rates were literally crossing each other, and they were having a hard time discerning whose was whose. At 1:00 a.m., the doctor came in and said that since Jillian was so close to crowning, she was going to use a vacuum extractor to get baby out, as it was becoming urgent that she needed to get here for both of our sakes, and I was too weak with fever to continue doing an effective job on my own. If she hadn't been so close already I would have had to have an emergency c-section. It only took about 5 minutes or so after the vacuum was in place until Jillian was born. It hurt like hell, and I tore pretty badly, but she was 100% perfectly healthy.
Jillian Rene` was born at 1:22 a.m. on January 20, 2011. She weighed 7 lb. 14 oz., and was 20 inches long. Despite my health and complicaions, Jillian scored a 7 on her 1 minute Apgar and a 9 at 5 minutes. She was 100% perfectly healthy. She did, however, have to go to the NICU for 8 hours for monitoring just to be safe that the infection wouldn't present itself in her after birth. We were both given antibiotics periodically for 48 hours following delivery. I got to spend a half hour with her before they took her away, then got to visit her twice briefly before they released her to me on the mommy and baby ward. She got to stay with me the whole time, except for one little mishap. She somehow ripped the IV out of her arm, and had to go back to the NICU to get it replaced. It took them 3 hours to find a good vein, and my poor baby returned to me with an arm full of poke marks. It completely broke my heart.
My recovery has been good. My fever went away pretty quickly after her birth, and my heart rate and blood pressure returned to normal, too. My doctor said I was an awesome pusher, and if I wasn't sick she would have been out sooner. It's scary to think about, really, that if I lived 100 years ago I would have probably been one of the women who died during childbirth. I am so thankful for medical intervention and advancements to be able to determine how sick and was and do what needed to be done. It wasn't as scary at the time while all of it was happening, since I was just worried about Jill, but now, *shudder*.
And the irony that shows this story comes full circle in a way: the doctor who discharged me was the same doctor who sent me home the night before. The look on his face when he saw me and was looking over my chart was priceless. It changed from happy doctor to very uncomfortable really quickly.
Marshall is the best dad in the world. I knew he would be a great one, but watching him be so beyond-great-more-like-fantastic-amazing-wonderful with her has been one of the best parts of this experience. And she really loves her Daddy, too. I love the way they look at each other. It makes me teary-eyed just thinking about it.
A funny highlight from labor and pushing: After the vacuum was on and I was pushing, things went from 0-60 really quick. At one point, probably while her head was coming out, the labor scene looked like the following scenario. There were a good 8 people at least in the room crowded around, yelling at me to "Push harder! Harder! You can push harder than that! Lisa Push Harder!!!" all at the same time. Meanwhile, I"m yelling "It hurts! It hurts! It really hurts! Ow, it burns! Waaaah!" between pushes and grunting like an animal during. Suddenly, Marshall, who had stayed relatively quite and composed during this whole process, starts hysterically crying and shouting out words that sound like a frantic mixture of "Push! Oh my God! Woah!" and other inaudible, excited noises. It was at that point that I knew something was happening, and right after that I was suddenly looking at my daughter.
I love her so much! She's the most beautiful baby I've ever seen. I don't even care if I'm biased, I'm calling it. Jillian is the most beautiful, perfect baby girl to ever have been born. And she is all ours. ♥
Monday, January 17, 2011
A letter to Jillian
Dear baby Jillian,
Hi, little girl! I love you. You are such a big girl now in my belly. I'm not sure how you can still be comfortable in there. I can feel you try to stretch out sometimes, and it doesn't seem to be very successful for you! Poor little girl! Your long baby legs just have to stay all curled up, don't they?
We've had an interesting week and a half, haven't we? We started going into labor, then had it stop on us. We found out we're almost halfway dilated, so your little baby head can almost fit through. We found out that Mommy's almost completely effaced, and how far down you've traveled. You seem pretty anxious to get out, considering your head is in my birth canal. Are you comfortable with your head being smooshed between my pelvis? Is it kind of like a vice grip, holding you in place, or can you move your head around still? I get worried about you, Jilly, wondering if you're uncomfortable or in any kind of pain. Most babies don't move down that far until their mommies are getting ready to push them out, but you couldn't wait. You're a rebel. I like that about you.
There doesn't seem to be much left holding you in there. This is very uncomfortable for me, baby J, since it puts a lot (and I mean a LOT!) of pressure on my whole crotch. I know you don't know what any of those body parts are yet, since you're still on the inside and aren't familiar with the outside world, but someday I'll make sure you know about the bruising and swelling you've caused. Like when you grow up, get married, and go to have a baby of your own. You'll ask me all kinds of questions about when I was pregnant with you, just like I asked your Grandma Christie, and I'll have all kinds of answers.
I love you, Jilly. I've tried to make sure you know how much I really, really love you. I welcome you into my life, and out into the world. So does your Daddy. He loves you so much. He's always talking to you and asking you to come out and telling you he loves you, and I know you hear him because every time he does you start to squiggle around in my belly. He reads you books. He welcomes you into his life, our life, and out into the world, too.
Daddy has to go away in about two weeks for a little while. He won't be gone long, but he has very important work to do. He really wants to be here for you, to see you as you first enter this world and take your first breath. I need him here, too. He's my support and my rock, and he keeps me from feeling overwhelmed. But we're both starting to get really worried, baby girl. We're worried you won't come out before he has to leave. And if that's the case, then the doctor's will make you come out while he's gone, and he won't be here to welcome you. That would break his heart, and mine. And it wouldn't be fair to you either, Jillybean, because you'd get to miss out on spending your first days warm and secure with both Mommy and Daddy.
Did we do something to offend you, Jillian? Did we perhaps not make you feel welcomed and happy like we should? We've tried to make a really good home for you. We've done everything we can to make sure that you have everything you need and more. We love you, and we want you to be happy. Are you scared? Because if you are, I promise you, it's okay. I will protect you. I will hold you, and you will have me to keep you safe. Your Daddy, too.
We want you to come out. We want to meet you. We're both confused as to why you seem to be teasing us, with contractions that start and stop, and lots of progress. I love you. Daddy loves you. We won't let anything happen to you.
Your Daddy would like to spend some time with you before he needs to leave for a little while. Only you can make this happen. You have the ability to come out and meet us. We're waiting for you, and we're trying to be as patient as possible. But we're excited and anxious to have you in our arms. You changed our lives as soon as you entered them. You are our everything. So if you're frightened, or if you have any doubts about coming into this big, colorful world, know that it's okay. We love you and will hold you and protect you. We'll keep you safe. I promise you.
Please come out soon. We want to make you love us, too.
Love,
Your Mommy and Daddy
P.S. I think Kitty might want to meet you, too. He's been following us around lately and looking at me with very concerned eyes. And he's been trying to climb up and lay across you, which is sort of odd considering he is not a lap cat. I think he wants to meet his new sister!
Hi, little girl! I love you. You are such a big girl now in my belly. I'm not sure how you can still be comfortable in there. I can feel you try to stretch out sometimes, and it doesn't seem to be very successful for you! Poor little girl! Your long baby legs just have to stay all curled up, don't they?
We've had an interesting week and a half, haven't we? We started going into labor, then had it stop on us. We found out we're almost halfway dilated, so your little baby head can almost fit through. We found out that Mommy's almost completely effaced, and how far down you've traveled. You seem pretty anxious to get out, considering your head is in my birth canal. Are you comfortable with your head being smooshed between my pelvis? Is it kind of like a vice grip, holding you in place, or can you move your head around still? I get worried about you, Jilly, wondering if you're uncomfortable or in any kind of pain. Most babies don't move down that far until their mommies are getting ready to push them out, but you couldn't wait. You're a rebel. I like that about you.
There doesn't seem to be much left holding you in there. This is very uncomfortable for me, baby J, since it puts a lot (and I mean a LOT!) of pressure on my whole crotch. I know you don't know what any of those body parts are yet, since you're still on the inside and aren't familiar with the outside world, but someday I'll make sure you know about the bruising and swelling you've caused. Like when you grow up, get married, and go to have a baby of your own. You'll ask me all kinds of questions about when I was pregnant with you, just like I asked your Grandma Christie, and I'll have all kinds of answers.
I love you, Jilly. I've tried to make sure you know how much I really, really love you. I welcome you into my life, and out into the world. So does your Daddy. He loves you so much. He's always talking to you and asking you to come out and telling you he loves you, and I know you hear him because every time he does you start to squiggle around in my belly. He reads you books. He welcomes you into his life, our life, and out into the world, too.
Daddy has to go away in about two weeks for a little while. He won't be gone long, but he has very important work to do. He really wants to be here for you, to see you as you first enter this world and take your first breath. I need him here, too. He's my support and my rock, and he keeps me from feeling overwhelmed. But we're both starting to get really worried, baby girl. We're worried you won't come out before he has to leave. And if that's the case, then the doctor's will make you come out while he's gone, and he won't be here to welcome you. That would break his heart, and mine. And it wouldn't be fair to you either, Jillybean, because you'd get to miss out on spending your first days warm and secure with both Mommy and Daddy.
Did we do something to offend you, Jillian? Did we perhaps not make you feel welcomed and happy like we should? We've tried to make a really good home for you. We've done everything we can to make sure that you have everything you need and more. We love you, and we want you to be happy. Are you scared? Because if you are, I promise you, it's okay. I will protect you. I will hold you, and you will have me to keep you safe. Your Daddy, too.
We want you to come out. We want to meet you. We're both confused as to why you seem to be teasing us, with contractions that start and stop, and lots of progress. I love you. Daddy loves you. We won't let anything happen to you.
Your Daddy would like to spend some time with you before he needs to leave for a little while. Only you can make this happen. You have the ability to come out and meet us. We're waiting for you, and we're trying to be as patient as possible. But we're excited and anxious to have you in our arms. You changed our lives as soon as you entered them. You are our everything. So if you're frightened, or if you have any doubts about coming into this big, colorful world, know that it's okay. We love you and will hold you and protect you. We'll keep you safe. I promise you.
Please come out soon. We want to make you love us, too.
Love,
Your Mommy and Daddy
P.S. I think Kitty might want to meet you, too. He's been following us around lately and looking at me with very concerned eyes. And he's been trying to climb up and lay across you, which is sort of odd considering he is not a lap cat. I think he wants to meet his new sister!
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Progress is progress
I'm 4 cm dilated, 80% effaced, with baby down at +1 station. I've been having contractions for 5 days now, so "Progress is progress" is becoming a slight mantra of mine as I try to keep myself from becoming frustrated. It seems each time things start to really get going they taper off for a little while. I keep waiting for that moment of intense pain to come, instead of this throbbing pain that I've been feeling, to signify that it is finally time to go to the hospital again, but just as it reaches that point things slow down again.
It really should be any day now. Key word should. But for some reason my body seems to have decided to draw out this process as long as possible. Between appointments, I feel slightly frustrated at the fact that I don't know if I'm doing anything or not. I feel worried that I am in active labor, and that these cramping and backache pains I've been having are actually how I'm going to experience labor, and I'm brushing off these signs as nothing because they aren't what I expect. Not that it really matters where I'm laboring, just as long as I get to the hospital before she's crowning.
It's baffling to me that I'm walking around almost halfway dilated, almost completely effaced, and with my daughter's head down past my pelvis. It's also weird to me that I can't put my legs together because I can feel her head inside of me. And creepy.
Still, I repeat my new mantra. I try to remind myself that things are progressing, and even though this isn't typical, it's still progress. I know the possibility that I could be walking around like this for a while. I get that. It doesn't make me feel better, but I understand. And I'm preparing myself for this possibility. I'm trying to learn how to continue to do things while in pain. Walking has become quite painful, especially today, as I think the pressure of her head being so low is really taking it's toll on my pelvic area. Standing is pretty painful, too, and I find myself constantly shuffling my weight back and forth to find a comfortable position for me and poor Jilly, who I can't imagine is very comfortable either with her head shoved between my pelvic bones. Yes, I know I'm not 40 weeks, yes I know I'm not overdue, so yes, I know many people are going to feel I have no right to complain. And maybe I don't. Maybe I'm breaking an unwritten rule of pregnancy to feel this way before I get to 40 weeks. At this point, I don't care about the unwritten rules or if I'm offending anyone. I look forward to when this is over. It's going to be awesome to have my little girl in my arms. And it's going to be awesome to have a day where I'm not contracting or in pain.
Soon. So very soon. And as long as things keep progressing and pick up, I should have her before Marshall has to go to his medical board hearing. He's just as anxious as I am. And hopefully soon when he asks if I'm okay instead of getting "Yeah, just having contractions" he'll get "Yeah, but we need to go to the hospital." Very soon.
It really should be any day now. Key word should. But for some reason my body seems to have decided to draw out this process as long as possible. Between appointments, I feel slightly frustrated at the fact that I don't know if I'm doing anything or not. I feel worried that I am in active labor, and that these cramping and backache pains I've been having are actually how I'm going to experience labor, and I'm brushing off these signs as nothing because they aren't what I expect. Not that it really matters where I'm laboring, just as long as I get to the hospital before she's crowning.
It's baffling to me that I'm walking around almost halfway dilated, almost completely effaced, and with my daughter's head down past my pelvis. It's also weird to me that I can't put my legs together because I can feel her head inside of me. And creepy.
Still, I repeat my new mantra. I try to remind myself that things are progressing, and even though this isn't typical, it's still progress. I know the possibility that I could be walking around like this for a while. I get that. It doesn't make me feel better, but I understand. And I'm preparing myself for this possibility. I'm trying to learn how to continue to do things while in pain. Walking has become quite painful, especially today, as I think the pressure of her head being so low is really taking it's toll on my pelvic area. Standing is pretty painful, too, and I find myself constantly shuffling my weight back and forth to find a comfortable position for me and poor Jilly, who I can't imagine is very comfortable either with her head shoved between my pelvic bones. Yes, I know I'm not 40 weeks, yes I know I'm not overdue, so yes, I know many people are going to feel I have no right to complain. And maybe I don't. Maybe I'm breaking an unwritten rule of pregnancy to feel this way before I get to 40 weeks. At this point, I don't care about the unwritten rules or if I'm offending anyone. I look forward to when this is over. It's going to be awesome to have my little girl in my arms. And it's going to be awesome to have a day where I'm not contracting or in pain.
Soon. So very soon. And as long as things keep progressing and pick up, I should have her before Marshall has to go to his medical board hearing. He's just as anxious as I am. And hopefully soon when he asks if I'm okay instead of getting "Yeah, just having contractions" he'll get "Yeah, but we need to go to the hospital." Very soon.
Friday, January 7, 2011
Using this to ask for prayers
There are some things going on in our lives that I've tried really hard to keep private. But sometimes, you gotta get these things out, and call in the big guns. That's right, I'm talking about calling in some prayers. And that's exactly what I'm doing with this. And before you all get worried about Jilly, she's just fine. These prayers are for Marshall, and for my sanity.
I'm going to try to make a very, very long story short. Marshall joined the Air Force shortly after we got married. He's been in for 2.5 years now, and he loves it. He wants to make this his career. He excels at his job, has been given duties way above and beyond his pay grade, and has been recognized countless times for his excellent service. He just got promoted to Senior Airman, woo hoo, which is a time in service promotion but still exciting nonetheless. He loves what he does, and he's proud of himself for what he does, and as his wife seeing him so proud and happy makes my heart swell with joy for him.
In September of 2009, so about 9 months after we moved here to Germany, my husband had something strange happen. He was working, going about his day as usual, when he broke out in this weird and painful rash. The first time it happened, no one really though anything of it. The second time, a few days later, we all started to wonder what was going on. One day, after he broke out, work sent him to the ER, where they referred him to an allergist. Skipping forward a bit, Marshall is diagnosed with chronic urticaria. This means, he randomly breaks out in painful hives from time to time, a couple times a week on average. The break outs last about five minutes, then he's fine. His particular kind is cholinergic urticaria, which means it's induced by heat, extreme physical exertion, and stress. What's funny is, you never know what's going to set this off. I've seen him pick me up and carry me around no problem, but pick up a five gallon bucket and suddenly need to go outside because he's breaking out. Totally weird.
He's been on a profile at work for a little over a year. This means, they've restricted what he can do while this is happening. Mainly, he can't deploy because of concerns about the desert heat and his condition. I'll admit, I never thought anything of it. This has just become a part of our lives, it's the norm now. I never once thought that these random breakouts a few times a month would affect our future. Especially since all the doctors we've talked to are extremely confident that this will go away, and is not a permanent condition.
In October, Marshall was notified that he was being medical boarded. Since he can't deploy, they might not want him in the Air Force anymore. A few weeks ago, the Informal board came back with a decision. Discharge from service with 10% severance. Basically, they'd give us a 90 day separation period, move us back to Ohio, give us a couple thousand dollars if we're lucky, and wish us well. The end. No benefits. No backup plan. Just gone. Obviously, this is not what we want to hear, especially with a brand new baby coming. We decided Marshall would contest the findings, sending the decision to the next level, the Formal Board.
With the Formal Board, Marshall will have to go to Texas and meet with a group of medical professionals and Air Force people and be able to argue his case: that he wants to make the Air Force a career, his condition does not impact his quality of work, and that he is worth fighting for and wants to keep his job. It's our last stand before the final blow. He'll find out right then and there whether or not we'll still have a clear defined future, or if we're suddenly going to be two unemployed adults with a baby and no way to support ourselves or provide for her.
Now, let's throw some more stress into the mix. Marshall got the date for his hearing yesterday. It's February 3. He'll have to leave probably Jan. 31 or Feb. 1. This would be perfectly fine if I wasn't due to have our baby on January 29. The 3rd is only 5 days past my due date. If Marshall has to leave on the 1st, that's 3 days past my due date. There is a very, very good possibility that he's not going to be here when she's born. He's upset because he might miss the birth of his daughter, I'm upset because I don't know how I'm going to do this without him. And if she does come on time, he'll have to leave before we even get settled at home. I'm going to be having a baby and have a brand new baby with no husband to help, on a different continent from the rest of my family. Fortunately for me, I have some awesome friends here who I know are more than willing to help out. But Marshall is her dad. He needs to be here to bond with her. Babies change so quickly. Those first few weeks are going to be tough. I always pictured giving birth to Jilly with Marshall right there, enjoying time together the three of us as a family. Passing her back and forth between us. Getting to see the look on his face when she first arrives. And coming home, the three of us, to our apartment for the first time as a family. Taking turns watching her while we sleep. I've been daydreaming about seeing him with her just as much as seeing her with me.
It's all pretty shitty. We're both stressed to the max about this, wondering where we're going to be three months from now and if we'll be able to provide a good life for Jilly. As a new mom, I've discovered the stress of moments like this when it comes to your child's future is worse than anything I've experienced. I'll be honest, I try to put up a brave front in front of my husband and friends and family, but there's been numerous times where I've just gone into the shower and cried for my daughter and our future. It's all so unfair. I look at the overweight Air Force people, the ones with pre-existing conditions, heart or breathing problems, etc., and wonder why my husband, who is perfectly healthy just randomly has hives sometimes, why does he have to be the one to be on the chopping block. And to have this all happen at a time in our lives that's supposed to be so full of joy. My daughter's impending birth is being taken over by a giant storm cloud. I feel pressure from myself to have her today, right now, or tomorrow, so that I know with certainty that Marshall will be here and they can have some time together bonding before he needs to leave. It's not like he's going to be gone a really long time or anything. But if I go by the stereotypical first time mom standard of being like a week overdue, than he will not be here for her birth. He'll miss the first moments of her life. He'll never be able to get that time back. That's a moment that can never be relived, and it breaks my heart for him.
So, after all this craziness, I ask that you all please pray for us. Pray that my husband will be able to keep his job. Pray that our future will still be secure, and I won't have to feel guilty about bringing a baby into the world at this tumultuous time in our lives. Pray that no matter how things work out, we will be able to find a way to take care of our daughter, and provide her with everything she needs.
Lastly, and selfishly on my part, pray that she comes very soon. Pray that Marshall will be able to see her take her first breath, and that we can have some time blissfully as the three of us before reality takes us back in and we have to worry about our future again.
Thank you all.
I'm going to try to make a very, very long story short. Marshall joined the Air Force shortly after we got married. He's been in for 2.5 years now, and he loves it. He wants to make this his career. He excels at his job, has been given duties way above and beyond his pay grade, and has been recognized countless times for his excellent service. He just got promoted to Senior Airman, woo hoo, which is a time in service promotion but still exciting nonetheless. He loves what he does, and he's proud of himself for what he does, and as his wife seeing him so proud and happy makes my heart swell with joy for him.
In September of 2009, so about 9 months after we moved here to Germany, my husband had something strange happen. He was working, going about his day as usual, when he broke out in this weird and painful rash. The first time it happened, no one really though anything of it. The second time, a few days later, we all started to wonder what was going on. One day, after he broke out, work sent him to the ER, where they referred him to an allergist. Skipping forward a bit, Marshall is diagnosed with chronic urticaria. This means, he randomly breaks out in painful hives from time to time, a couple times a week on average. The break outs last about five minutes, then he's fine. His particular kind is cholinergic urticaria, which means it's induced by heat, extreme physical exertion, and stress. What's funny is, you never know what's going to set this off. I've seen him pick me up and carry me around no problem, but pick up a five gallon bucket and suddenly need to go outside because he's breaking out. Totally weird.
He's been on a profile at work for a little over a year. This means, they've restricted what he can do while this is happening. Mainly, he can't deploy because of concerns about the desert heat and his condition. I'll admit, I never thought anything of it. This has just become a part of our lives, it's the norm now. I never once thought that these random breakouts a few times a month would affect our future. Especially since all the doctors we've talked to are extremely confident that this will go away, and is not a permanent condition.
In October, Marshall was notified that he was being medical boarded. Since he can't deploy, they might not want him in the Air Force anymore. A few weeks ago, the Informal board came back with a decision. Discharge from service with 10% severance. Basically, they'd give us a 90 day separation period, move us back to Ohio, give us a couple thousand dollars if we're lucky, and wish us well. The end. No benefits. No backup plan. Just gone. Obviously, this is not what we want to hear, especially with a brand new baby coming. We decided Marshall would contest the findings, sending the decision to the next level, the Formal Board.
With the Formal Board, Marshall will have to go to Texas and meet with a group of medical professionals and Air Force people and be able to argue his case: that he wants to make the Air Force a career, his condition does not impact his quality of work, and that he is worth fighting for and wants to keep his job. It's our last stand before the final blow. He'll find out right then and there whether or not we'll still have a clear defined future, or if we're suddenly going to be two unemployed adults with a baby and no way to support ourselves or provide for her.
Now, let's throw some more stress into the mix. Marshall got the date for his hearing yesterday. It's February 3. He'll have to leave probably Jan. 31 or Feb. 1. This would be perfectly fine if I wasn't due to have our baby on January 29. The 3rd is only 5 days past my due date. If Marshall has to leave on the 1st, that's 3 days past my due date. There is a very, very good possibility that he's not going to be here when she's born. He's upset because he might miss the birth of his daughter, I'm upset because I don't know how I'm going to do this without him. And if she does come on time, he'll have to leave before we even get settled at home. I'm going to be having a baby and have a brand new baby with no husband to help, on a different continent from the rest of my family. Fortunately for me, I have some awesome friends here who I know are more than willing to help out. But Marshall is her dad. He needs to be here to bond with her. Babies change so quickly. Those first few weeks are going to be tough. I always pictured giving birth to Jilly with Marshall right there, enjoying time together the three of us as a family. Passing her back and forth between us. Getting to see the look on his face when she first arrives. And coming home, the three of us, to our apartment for the first time as a family. Taking turns watching her while we sleep. I've been daydreaming about seeing him with her just as much as seeing her with me.
It's all pretty shitty. We're both stressed to the max about this, wondering where we're going to be three months from now and if we'll be able to provide a good life for Jilly. As a new mom, I've discovered the stress of moments like this when it comes to your child's future is worse than anything I've experienced. I'll be honest, I try to put up a brave front in front of my husband and friends and family, but there's been numerous times where I've just gone into the shower and cried for my daughter and our future. It's all so unfair. I look at the overweight Air Force people, the ones with pre-existing conditions, heart or breathing problems, etc., and wonder why my husband, who is perfectly healthy just randomly has hives sometimes, why does he have to be the one to be on the chopping block. And to have this all happen at a time in our lives that's supposed to be so full of joy. My daughter's impending birth is being taken over by a giant storm cloud. I feel pressure from myself to have her today, right now, or tomorrow, so that I know with certainty that Marshall will be here and they can have some time together bonding before he needs to leave. It's not like he's going to be gone a really long time or anything. But if I go by the stereotypical first time mom standard of being like a week overdue, than he will not be here for her birth. He'll miss the first moments of her life. He'll never be able to get that time back. That's a moment that can never be relived, and it breaks my heart for him.
So, after all this craziness, I ask that you all please pray for us. Pray that my husband will be able to keep his job. Pray that our future will still be secure, and I won't have to feel guilty about bringing a baby into the world at this tumultuous time in our lives. Pray that no matter how things work out, we will be able to find a way to take care of our daughter, and provide her with everything she needs.
Lastly, and selfishly on my part, pray that she comes very soon. Pray that Marshall will be able to see her take her first breath, and that we can have some time blissfully as the three of us before reality takes us back in and we have to worry about our future again.
Thank you all.
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
Optimism
I've always felt that the power of the mind can greatly influence our health and well-being. Kind of like a sense of karma, I believe that negativity breeds negativity, therefore positivity breeds positivity. I know, I know, I'm full of that weird hippy nonsense. It's okay. I like it.
But like all people (even the weird, crazy, and slightly neurotic ones), my optimism can sometimes be dealt a crushing blow. Usually, this causes two reactions from me: one, I go into hysterical panic mode while my mind reboots itself (and all I can picture here is that scene from Stepford Wives with the "Do-Si-Do" wife spinning like a top on the dance floor until she burns out); or two, I make myself smile, reiterate the importance of positive thinking, sometimes overcompensate, but mostly just brush it off and think of the positive aspects of whatever crash and burn scenario is playing out. Sometimes, the crushing blow is a series of little reminders, much like today.
Now, I've been feeling pretty good lately. Sure, I may be more uncomfortable than I ever thought possible, what with the swelling, insomnia, fatigue, and small baby's butt and feet pushing up into my ribcage in a mocking manner. In fact, I may be downright tired of being pregnant. But, I'm so, so, SO freaking excited to meet my Jillian that I've been overcome by that love and feel anxious as ever to meet her. In a good way.
For the past week, I've been getting this undeniable feeling that things are coming to an end. That it's not going to be much longer, and that I'm not going to make it to the end of the month. Yup, I'm saying it, I've got a hunkering that Jilly's arrival will be sooner rather than later. Why? I've got reasons. I could go into these individually and fill you in on the exciting and sometimes disgusting symptoms of prelabor. Or you could just take my word for it. Open up a copy of any pregnancy book or google search prelabor symptoms. I have most of them, I assure you.
Mostly, I just have this nagging voice constantly telling me to prepare, prepare, prepare! This crazy, frenetic feeling making me believe that time is of the essence. These sudden waves of anxiety and excitement, and an emerging giddiness that causes me to leap off the couch and pace throughout my house like a lunatic, all the while making lists and more lists, packing and repacking, folding and refolding. Today, I've been topping this off with an off and on cramping feeling with accompanying backache. The waves of discomfort hit me and flow over me, then drain away. It's a new sensation, different than the braxton hicks contractions I've been feeling for the past couple months. It makes me even more anxious, and I pace during the spells like an animal trapped in a cage. No, I'm not in labor, but my body is preparing.
It's no wonder I'm feeling excited. All signs are pointing towards "Go!" Woo hoo! But then, today, I get those reminders that I'm probably just crazy. And I have to admit they're probably right. It seems like everyone I know has gone overdue with their first baby. Except my mom, and my aunt, and my grandma, and pretty much my mom's whole side of the family. But statistically, the odds are not in my favor. In fact, the odds are more in favor that I'm still going to be pregnant 5 weeks from now than not pregnant 2 weeks from now. And then I think, every first time mom is probably thinking they'll have their baby any day now starting at 36ish weeks, like me, and they all end up being 41-42 weeks pregnant by the time they get to meet their babies. And that depresses me greatly. I feel good and confident that Jilly will come when she is ready, but I feel terrified that it's going to be several weeks before that day comes. Selfishly, I want her now! But I know that won't happen. I don't expect it to. I don't expect anything, really, since I'm insane.
I try to ignore my body. Ignore the anxious feelings. Supress them until it's closer to time. Maybe at 39 weeks I can allow myself this feeling of being on the brink. But not at almost 37. I don't start weekly appointments or cervical checks until 38 weeks. It doesn't really bother me, except for the little voice telling me I'm not going to make it that far. I don't really want to be checked in some ways, nervous about the anxiety it may cause if the news is that I'm doing nothing. But, than again, if I was checked today and told I was doing something I'd feel justified.
My optimism is fading. I feel stupid and upset by my feelings. But, I try to stay optimistic. Maybe Jilly can feel that positve vibe, and maybe that'll be enough to make her want to meet me soon. So when I type of her arrival, and I speak as if it's imminent, it's me trying to continue my blind optimism. Maybe she'll feel my thoughts of "Hey, it's okay. The world is a great place, anxious to meet you. You don't need to be afraid. I'm ready, and I love you, and your Daddy is ready, and he loves you. In fact, everyone is ready, and they all love you so much. You are going to change everyone's lives and make them all better. I promise, I'll be here for you, and I won't let anything bad happen." Maybe, that optimism and faith will be enough to keep me sane for the next few days or 5 weeks before I meet her. I'm positive it will be.
But like all people (even the weird, crazy, and slightly neurotic ones), my optimism can sometimes be dealt a crushing blow. Usually, this causes two reactions from me: one, I go into hysterical panic mode while my mind reboots itself (and all I can picture here is that scene from Stepford Wives with the "Do-Si-Do" wife spinning like a top on the dance floor until she burns out); or two, I make myself smile, reiterate the importance of positive thinking, sometimes overcompensate, but mostly just brush it off and think of the positive aspects of whatever crash and burn scenario is playing out. Sometimes, the crushing blow is a series of little reminders, much like today.
Now, I've been feeling pretty good lately. Sure, I may be more uncomfortable than I ever thought possible, what with the swelling, insomnia, fatigue, and small baby's butt and feet pushing up into my ribcage in a mocking manner. In fact, I may be downright tired of being pregnant. But, I'm so, so, SO freaking excited to meet my Jillian that I've been overcome by that love and feel anxious as ever to meet her. In a good way.
For the past week, I've been getting this undeniable feeling that things are coming to an end. That it's not going to be much longer, and that I'm not going to make it to the end of the month. Yup, I'm saying it, I've got a hunkering that Jilly's arrival will be sooner rather than later. Why? I've got reasons. I could go into these individually and fill you in on the exciting and sometimes disgusting symptoms of prelabor. Or you could just take my word for it. Open up a copy of any pregnancy book or google search prelabor symptoms. I have most of them, I assure you.
Mostly, I just have this nagging voice constantly telling me to prepare, prepare, prepare! This crazy, frenetic feeling making me believe that time is of the essence. These sudden waves of anxiety and excitement, and an emerging giddiness that causes me to leap off the couch and pace throughout my house like a lunatic, all the while making lists and more lists, packing and repacking, folding and refolding. Today, I've been topping this off with an off and on cramping feeling with accompanying backache. The waves of discomfort hit me and flow over me, then drain away. It's a new sensation, different than the braxton hicks contractions I've been feeling for the past couple months. It makes me even more anxious, and I pace during the spells like an animal trapped in a cage. No, I'm not in labor, but my body is preparing.
It's no wonder I'm feeling excited. All signs are pointing towards "Go!" Woo hoo! But then, today, I get those reminders that I'm probably just crazy. And I have to admit they're probably right. It seems like everyone I know has gone overdue with their first baby. Except my mom, and my aunt, and my grandma, and pretty much my mom's whole side of the family. But statistically, the odds are not in my favor. In fact, the odds are more in favor that I'm still going to be pregnant 5 weeks from now than not pregnant 2 weeks from now. And then I think, every first time mom is probably thinking they'll have their baby any day now starting at 36ish weeks, like me, and they all end up being 41-42 weeks pregnant by the time they get to meet their babies. And that depresses me greatly. I feel good and confident that Jilly will come when she is ready, but I feel terrified that it's going to be several weeks before that day comes. Selfishly, I want her now! But I know that won't happen. I don't expect it to. I don't expect anything, really, since I'm insane.
I try to ignore my body. Ignore the anxious feelings. Supress them until it's closer to time. Maybe at 39 weeks I can allow myself this feeling of being on the brink. But not at almost 37. I don't start weekly appointments or cervical checks until 38 weeks. It doesn't really bother me, except for the little voice telling me I'm not going to make it that far. I don't really want to be checked in some ways, nervous about the anxiety it may cause if the news is that I'm doing nothing. But, than again, if I was checked today and told I was doing something I'd feel justified.
My optimism is fading. I feel stupid and upset by my feelings. But, I try to stay optimistic. Maybe Jilly can feel that positve vibe, and maybe that'll be enough to make her want to meet me soon. So when I type of her arrival, and I speak as if it's imminent, it's me trying to continue my blind optimism. Maybe she'll feel my thoughts of "Hey, it's okay. The world is a great place, anxious to meet you. You don't need to be afraid. I'm ready, and I love you, and your Daddy is ready, and he loves you. In fact, everyone is ready, and they all love you so much. You are going to change everyone's lives and make them all better. I promise, I'll be here for you, and I won't let anything bad happen." Maybe, that optimism and faith will be enough to keep me sane for the next few days or 5 weeks before I meet her. I'm positive it will be.
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