unexpected

friday, october 12, 2012

1:30 pm

i am exhausted. and hungry. and sleepy. but the house is clean.

my sister will be here soon. she is spending the night. i have a baby shower tomorrow.

david is home from work. we lie across the bed, remark about how tired we are. and hungry. nothing in our house sounds good. olive garden it is.

my gas light is on. we take separate cars so i can fill up before lindsey gets here. sisters always go out shopping, even if it is just to use up a bit of store credit.

 soup, salad and breadsticks for me. panini and soup for him. the waitress messes up his order. twice. we laugh about it. they must be out of mints-none came with our check. i save the receipt. one day i will win a customer service drawing.

3:15 pm

do do do. do do da do do do. do do do. dodo da dod do do.

not going to get that one. i'll check lindsey's voicemail in a second, seeing as how i'm currently "unavailable."

hmm. that's strange. what is that on the floor in here? the cottage walk bathroom is usually very clean.

small gasp. could it be? no. i'm barely 38 weeks. with my luck i'll certainly be a week overdue.

hmm. slight panic. still not convinced. i'm not in any pain.

i give nancy my check for my sam's membership. casually ask about her water breaking.

she panics. do i need to drive you home? you need to go home. to the hospital.

nah, i'm sure it's a false alarm. i only live a few miles away. i'm fine. besides, this looked more like what you see in the movies. everyone says it really isn't like that at all. i'm fine.

3:35 pm

stupid book. why isn't there a separate section, one that is printed on yellow pages or something that says, your water may have broken if. . .

i hand the book to david. find that part. call lee ob, he says. they closed at noon. the recording says to call labor and delivery.

i don't want to. if i do, it will be real. i'm not ready. i'm terrified.

my sister is here. don't tell her. not yet. stall her.

the call drops a minute into it. i call back. come on in, says the nurse.

lindsey, we aren't going shopping.

4:45 pm

i have convinced not one, but two nurses that i am not a victim of domestic violence. no, those aren't marks from physical acts. i'm the idiot who collected some poison ivy while attempting a pinterest project. 37 weeks pregnant and highly allergic.

so, this is what it's like to be in a labor and delivery room. david is here. lindsey is on the couch. grandparents have been called. the frenzy has begun.

contractions aren't fun, not by any means. why are they coming so intensely? and so quickly? aren't first babies usually long labors?

suddenly it is awful. the worst feeling i have ever had. i'm far enough along to get the epidural. sweet, sweet relief.

the grandparents stop by to check in.

and now the nurses want me to relax. i can barely move so that isn't terribly difficult. sleep will not come. i feel short of breath. the medication is too much.

the cosby show is on. neither david nor i are watching. he piddles on his ipad, looking over at me all the time. i look around. doze off for a few minutes at a time every now and then.

11:15 pm

okay, i'm going to get the table ready.

what? are you kidding me? already? that cannot be right. the doctor estimated anytime between midnight and 6 am. i was betting 6 am.

david kisses me. tells me i'm doing great. i can barely feel anything. am i pushing too much? too little? i stare at the clock, wondering if wells will be born today or tomorrow.

saturday, october 13, 2012

it's after midnight. david is standing in front of me in a gown and gloves.

one last push they tell me. i see his head. so much dark hair. dark like mine.

12:09 am

and now david is guiding our baby into this world. our world. our family of three. david has cut the umbilical cord.

i see him. i don't hear him. shouldn't he be crying? the nurses wipe him off a bit. hand him to me as i frantically pull down my gown. skin. my son's and mine. finally touching.

it's time for the one minute apgar. i know they have to take him away, just over to the side for a few minutes.

time slowly ticks by. hushed voices. doctors and nurses somewhat huddling. david walks over.

my son is purple.

my son is purple, not baby pink. new-to-this-world blush.

the doctor has a bag. a mask is over my son's mouth. my heart stops. no. not now. not after all this.

now the nurse anesthesiologist is here. the pediatrician arrives. they are all hoving over my son. my son.

they say his breathing must be stabilized.

was it me? something i did or didn't do? it must be. i make so many mistakes.

i cannot move. if i could i would be fighting the staff for sure, trying to get to him. he should be with me. i can't get this time back. these first few minutes. bond. i want to bond. i need him. i feel empty.

he is given to us for less than a minute. pictures are snapped. then he is gone.

1:00 am

praying. pleading. crying. david assures me it is not my fault. i still feel to blame. somehow.

i lie in the labor and delivery bed. there is a hole in my heart. no official report, but the nurse says he looks better.

2:00 am

i weep. i am so exhausted. i am empty. david assures me all will be fine. we pray.

now we are in the mother/baby room. i do not have a baby. he has been taken away.  my son.

they say wells will be fine. they ran tests. did an xray. started an iv. my son. poked already. without me to hold him.

we might get to see him soon. it's up in the air as to when.

4:00 am

cece, the nurse, checks on me again. i don't care how i am doing. all i want is my son. 

she leaves to get a report from the nursery.

4:20 am

a bassinet has returned with cece. my son. my son!

he is here. really here. in my arms. on my chest. skin. skin to skin. i melt. i sob. i cover him in kisses. i pray. and then he feeds. oh, sweet feeling. connection between us, physically, at last.

we are together: me and wells. mother and child. mom, dad and baby. family of three.

6:00 am

i'm still scared. i am happy. i cry when they take him away. he must still be monitored. this is not in my birth plan.

not my will. i must remember.

"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." Jeremiah 29:11

hope. i have hope. my son.

change

where did august and september go? so much has changed in the past two months. . .

we now live in opelika. david has a new job. i'm doing contract work from home.

we are 35 weeks pregnant. yes, in five weeks, give or take, wells will be here.

big changes. important changes. life changes. for someone who doesn't exactly like change in general, it's definitely been very good for me. for us.

david is happy. he loves his job. he enjoys being back "home" again.

i'm glad to no longer be in birmingham. though i do miss work and friends, life is just so much simpler here. not as fast paced. quieter. sweeter.

lots of changes. we're back in a church home. i've joined a bible study group that is doing wonders already. david has joined a men's group. he's taken up crossfit. we've furnished a nursery.

a nursery. our nursery. it still seems so unreal that wells is almost here. back in february, this time felt like it was ages away. not so much anymore. . .

changes. good changes. positive changes. lots of changes.

change can still be scary.

transitioning from a "woman who's expecting" to an actual "mother" is going to be the biggest change yet. never again will life be the same. it excites me. it terrifies me. it reminds me that i cannot do it alone. that i will not be perfect. at all. not even close.

and that's okay.

my first week of bible study, our memory verse was Hebrews 13:8

"Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today and forever."

what a powerful truth: despite my circumstances, He does not change. oh, how comforting it is to read those words, to meditate on that thought.

my verse this week has been just as helpful--Galatians 3:3

"How can you be so foolish? After starting your Christian lives in the Spirit, why are you now trying to become perfect by your own human effort?"

finishing my projects for the nursery these past two weeks has really brought this into perspective again. i can't do anything on my own. i shouldn't do it on my own. i shouldn't shame myself for imperfection. i am not perfect.

time to officially change my mentality: i am an imperfect woman loved by a perfect God.

::wipes brow:: what a relief, huh?

all i can do is my best effort. and that is okay. that is the standard. not perfection.

and with that, it's time to reveal wells's nursery photos, complete with imperfect projects that i love. knowing that wells will be in here soon makes me love it even more.

simply diy project: add patterned paper to the back of a standard bookshelf.

 many thanks to my "roommate" for her decor styling!

 yeah, he has a few books. . . 

 diy project: hubby sanded this dresser (thanks, linda and wally) and painted it.

 comfy chair (thanks, mom and dad)--i foresee a lot of time being spent here

 diy projects: thrift store side table with a coat of paint added to brighten it up

mod podged bottle with baby theme art--adding lights soon

 diy project: felt owl mobile inspired by one i found on etsy. after making it, i now understand why she charges $100 for it. 

 my dad made the changing pad holder :)

(we have yet to hang anything on the walls--i tend to be indecisive when it comes to these things)

so there you have it: the beginning of the next major change.

change is good.

run away cats

yes, it's been a while. too long. my apologies.

so, anyway, last week, my cats ran away. both of them. at different times. it was like they were tag teaming my nerves or something.

gabby and tino are indoor cats. mostly because i am overprotective and haven't lived anywhere with a fence until i married david. besides, i want them inside to cuddle with me.

last friday night, my sweet in-laws came over to install the back splash in our kitchen, which means the wet saw was being used, which means the garage was needed, which led to no one thinking about putting up the cat door stopper. oops.

around midnight, david realized gabby was missing, which led to us roaming the streets for her (me, half asleep in my old pink bath robe). no luck. solution? sleep with the garage door up. she'll come home.

and she did. by 5 am, gabby was on the bed meowing. and tino was no where to be found.

i admit it: tino is my favorite. yes, he is BAD, and can be intensely annoying, but he's the sweetest animal i've ever encountered. seriously. he loves to be in my lap on the couch. in the bed, he prefers to be the "little spoon."

so, yes, at this point, i paniced a bit. overall, i did a great job of keeping it together. i just kept reminding myself of how the stress could affect the baby. i tried my best to remain calm. by 9 pm, when i turned off the bedroom light, i was convinced he was gone for good. no amount of roaming the streets, driving around, or calling had produced my cat.

sleep lasted only a few hours. by 11:30, i was sitting outside on the driveway, propped up in david's tailgate chair with a beach towel to ease the chill.

after a short while, i noticed all the cars, mostly with teenage boys or boy/girl combinations, flying down the street. huh?  then it clicked: date night. midnight curfew. beginning of summer--don't blow it.

my hand immediately went to my belly. great. this is what i have to look forward to: waiting up for my son to come home once he's driving on his own. flashback to my own mother waiting for me in high school. big sigh.

then, mild panic: if i am this saddened by my cat running away, what would i ever do if my CHILD did this? panic: or if he was taken from me? i immediately began to think of all the stories of lost children--how in the world did those mothers go on every day, not knowing, wondering, worrying, panicking? enter massive panic. sobbing. over my run away cat and unborn missing child. thank you, hormones.

reflecting a week later, i'm still trying to see what i can learn from the experience. my conclusion? i need to trust more. i need to trust that there is always a bigger picture. the hardest part is accepting that it might not ever be revealed to me.

after searching for a verse to help me believe and learn to trust, i've settled on this one:

Isaiah 12:2: " Surely God is my salvation; I will trust and not be afraid. The Lord, the Lord himself, is my strength and my defense;  he has become my salvation. ”

i've had several moments of panic and sheer terror since finding out i was pregnant. from small incidents to letting my worries get the best of me, it's been an up and down experience so far (more up than down, but still...). developing a greater sense of trust will  help me get through the next few months, and, more importantly, the rest of my life as a mother. because it never ends, this parent gig. i've always known that, but am now beginning to understand it intimately.

thankfully, this small misadventure had a happy ending: at 12:45 am, sleepless, i decided to lie across the spare room bed, where i could see the cat door and most likely hear it opening. a little orange head popped through at 1:49 am.

my little spoon :)

all you need

i'm a sucker for cheese. cheesy stuff, that is. give me a good romantic comedy.  pick me a flower. set the coffee pot for me. if it's a sweet gesture, i'll fall for it every time.

one of my favorite movies is love actually. what's not to love? it combines my slight obsession with british culture, colin firth, hugh grant, a great soundtrack, and, of course, an extra dose of cheese. it's hard to choose a favorite scene, but this one is definitely one of them (along with the mark and juliet "carol singers" scene):

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wqHRMuUhmnA
**Note embedding was disabled. Just take the extra second to click and watch it, okay?**

oh yeah, the movie also has a wedding. and a proposal. cheese overload? yes, please.

anyway. so at the end of last june, i attended my first magnolia creek alumni reunion. the timing was perfect: i was stressed. i was tired. i was feeling alone.

the last activity we did that day involved each of us getting a sheet of paper with a single phrase on it. we were told that we had to figure out how they were related. this was mine:

coincidence? i think not.

it now hangs on my closet door as a reminder.

i've mentioned faith and fate on this blog a lot already, but i'll say it again: despite the rough times i've been through (and am sure are ahead too), i truly believe that everything happens some way for a reason. there is no accident. life is a chain of events.

it is this amazing group of women in recovery that reminded me that creating is therapy for me. and a reason i started this blog in the first place. yeah, i know, the crafts haven't been showing up...(oops)

but i have been creating! see?

i love my crafts. love the process. love the thought that goes into them. however, the best ones are made with love.

it should be ready at the end of october.

(side note: to those who understand, it's a "tough mudder" baby!)

what now?

if you have gathered anything about me (considering the possibility that you are reading this and you DON'T know me very well), it is that i tend to be introspective. perhaps this is a trait of avid readers...


at any rate, i am a dork who loves an inspirational talk/speech/address. (yes, i am the one person who looks forward to keynote speakers and conferences.) yes, i openly own it. with a big smile.


like any bookworm, i have my favorite authors. one i recently discovered (and quickly grew to love), is ann patchett (absolutely brilliant. period.). combine my love of books with my adoration for inspirational speeches and speakers...i recently stumbled upon her "lauded commencement address at Sarah Lawrence College" (her alma matar). needless to say, i love it.


what now is a great example of reflection, of thinking about your circumstances and how they relate to your purpose, if not in life, for God's unique timing.


" 'What now is not just a panic-stricken question tossed out into a dark unknown. What now can also be our joy. It is a declaration of possibility, of promise, of chance. It acknowledges that our future is open, that we may well do more than anyone expected of us, that at every point in our development we are still striving to grow. There's a time in our lives when we all crave the answers. It seems terrifying not to know what's coming next. But there is another time, a better time, when we see our lives as a series of choices, and What now represents our excitement and our future, the very vitality of life. It's up to you to choose a life that will keep expanding.' "


i read her speech last week, and took a picture of this page (yep, with my Iphone-yay technology) so i could remember it (page 77, if you want to be specific--and i feel that i must be). little did i know that her words would have a larger impression on me the next week.


my coworkers and i spent today in a professional development session to address our communication skills (at some point every month, we all deliver "trainings" or "presentations" to large audiences). after our short lunch break, all ten of us were informed that we had to give an expository speech for 2 minutes.  the rest of us were to provide critiques and feedback on each one (read: you must critique your peers and two supervisors. panic? yep.).


as we each took a turn over the next hour and a half (with great courage, might i add--it is so much easier to speak in front of people with whom you do not work with every day), i was reminded of the variety of communication and presentation styles of my colleagues. i reflected upon the unique passions for our nonprofit work. whether it stems from a deeply personal experience, as my sweet Leslie feels, or a strong passion to simply help other child care providers succeed, as Beverly exudes, we all "do what we do" because we feel drawn to this field.


"'What Now'" is just a glimpse into the impact we can make in the world. we can choose to rejoice in the opportunities that they will bring.


whatever life has handed you now, my hope it that you will find the good it in; that you will inspire the generation to come.


life isn't always how we "expect it," but is always how we "embrace it." if nothing else, my precious life has been nothing but a lesson in this fact: my amazing husband david is a lesson that "everything happens for a reason (even if i don't really understand it until 14 years later...). "


I don't know about you,  but i like to "'have strengths to stand upon.'"


Psalm 91:14 states, "Because he loves me," says the LORD, "I will rescue him; I will protect him, for he acknowledges my name."


my blessed assurance is that, in time, He will provide all that We need.

finally!

i am BEYOND excited! the article is finally up!

eyes closed

i hate titling posts. there, i said it. the truth.

however, i think this particular title will show up on this blog frequently.

see, i wish i were an artist. true, there are many definitions of "artist." but, to me, the word itself always implies one who can execute a drawing or painting, of the realistic sense.

my personal opinion that i possess zero talent for this was confirmed when i was a pre-k teacher. i had recently become part of a literacy program; one of the activity suggestions was to "story tell" while drawing pictures. i drew a person. the children thought it was a dog. they became confused. i accepted my lack of talent.

so, anyway, i obviously have a love of and appreciation for art.

at the creek, a very sweet lady introduced me to a great way to "be an artist" in my eyes.

the concept is simple: paper, pencil, crayons/colored pencils/markers/oil pastels (you get the picture). close your eyes. put the pencil on the paper. for a few moments, without picking up the pencil, make lines all over the power (let your wrist freely move over the paper).

then, look at it. what do you see?

here's what i saw tonight.

do you see what i saw? a pregnant woman, lovingly looking down at her belly.

this is a woman who knows what she wants.

this is a woman who is experiencing another level of love, and family.

to be her, staying in recovery, moving toward "recovered," is a necessity.

this is who i want to be.

reflections

so, tonight ED gave me a few reasons to not go to a support group: 1) your friend won't be there 2) you might have to sit in traffic and be late 3) you're too tired.

i'm glad that the rational brain won.

tonight, i was again reminded of what loving parents i have now, and had growing up. listening to others as they work through their past, i found myself almost ashamed of dealing with ED and not having all of the baggage that some of the other amazing ladies in the group are stuck lugging around.

then i remembered: unnecessary guilt=Ed thoughts. i stopped.

on the way home, i talked with a lady that has inspired me so much, and with who i hope to genuinely become great friends.  i found myself thinking "let it be" (yes, i love the beatles) and just live life. day to day.

overcome with emotions, i felt the need to call my dad, the one who literally carried me to the path to recover. instead of feeling guilty, i allowed myself to be grateful. and i told him (note: this is big. words are hard for many of us dealing with ED).

i am grateful to have had a happy childhood.

i am grateful to have had a supportive family.

i am grateful to have parents who approve of and love my husband. (BIG ONE HERE)

above all, i am grateful to be alive. life is good. very good. amazing, in fact.

and, i am fortunate to say, my family, the one i was born into and the one i now have through marriage, is a large part of that.

until next time,

LIVE life. LOVE yourself. CREATE recovery.
me