Wednesday, June 24, 2009

Stevie Likes it!

The sling that is. Thanks Megan! Matt tried it out, hmm, maybe the day we came home from the hospital (along with the swing and the bouncy chair and whatever else. It was a day at the amusement park for Stevie, only, without his amusement. He was still a little too floppy for the sling then.) I decided to give it a whirl today, brave I know, being by myself to get him in and around my shoulders! He wasn't so sure at first, and neither was I. I'm still getting the hang of it, but he went to sleep pretty much right away. It sort of looks ginormous on me, but hey, maybe it's just that my boy is pretty ginormous. He's 23 inches long now...and shall I say, built?! I have a feeling he's going to be tall like his dad.

Right now, I'm supposed to be in the shower while he sleeps. Yeah, those things sort of get adjusted with the schedule these days (along with eating and sleeping...for me that is! He does pretty well in those areas).

So, let's see, life with a newborn. I really had every intention of doing a Not Me! Monday...I had so many good things to share. Well, at least I thought they were pretty funny. I'll share a few anyway even though it's Wednesday. I'll call it, "What I Wouldn't Do Wednesday!" I would not hold my breath or brace myself every time I change my little man for fear of getting wet myself. (So far, Dad's been the biggest target...and every time he wears a particular college t-shirt. I'm guessing our little guy would not attend that college). My little boy also would not already have a diaper rash. That would make this mom feel just awful. In her awful state of feeling, she would not use a hand held little fan on his bottom just to try to air him out after each change. We would not often eat dinner in the living room (for that would be a bad habit to develop) to be near our hopefully, snoozing boy in the swing. I would not prepare buttered Italian bread for our pasta on a paper plate and place it on the couch. I then certainly would not proceed to have my mind on other things and sit on that plate. It would not take this crazy lady (because she's not crazy) minutes to realize I was sitting on a paper plate of buttered slices of bread, and only realize after Matt says, "Umm," and points to my rear. I would not get a bit emotional and embarrassed and have my husband unstick the bread from my bottom and wipe the huge buttery mess off of me. I of course, would not be wearing a pair of his sweat pants at the time. While feeding Stevie, the precious babe would not happen to fall asleep all the time. So, my dear husband, would not sit next to us on the bed with his birthday Nerf Shotgun and fire off some blank rounds to awaken the poor boy. (I'm pretty sure that would not be in the newborn handbook, so therefore, he would not do anything of the sort.) Knowing the type of relationship I have with Matt, I would not add to his collection of toys on Father's Day by getting him (or, allowing him to get) a slingshot. That would make us totally weird, and since we would not want to be weird, we would not do such things. Ohh, there are more, but I'll save them for another time.

Here are a few pictures of Stevie at 2 weeks. I can't believe he'll be 3 weeks tomorrow!

Oh, and Stevie is a great sleeper! Sometimes he fusses for awhile when he goes down, but once he's out...he's out for several hours. For example, we put him down around 9:15 or 9:30 last night. He fell asleep around 10pm, and wait for it..., was ready to eat at 3:55am!! Then again at 8:15ish!! The first couple nights home from the hospital were pretty awful (in that he cried and cried and only wanted to be with me), leading me to ask the pediatrician about using the pacifier at our first visit. He was ok with it, so we canned the whole idea of waiting 2 weeks and used it! I can't say it's all the pacifier (he doesn't always need it), but boy, that's helped us. Oh yes, and that whole first week and a half or so, every time I woke up, I had this panic. I thought I fell asleep with Stephen in my arms (because I was so very tired and was feeding him quite a bit in the wee hours of the night and morning). I would look in my arms to find me holding a pillow like it was him, and I'd go crazy digging through our sheets and covers to find him. Scary feelings! People are telling me it's normal to have those panics...phew. I thought I was going crazy. I finally got used to that happening every time I woke up through the nights and mornings...and would have to calm myself down and say, "He's ok. He's in his bed!" Oh, and sort of another side note totally unrelated to sleeping. Beth (Nurse Beth, if you're even reading this...haha), I did have that PUPPS rash. You were right!! It was not poison ivy. Whooo boy, I was miserable. As if recovering from delivery wasn't fun enough, I was itching like crazy...everywhere...and being ohh so proud (ha!) to be included in that 1% of women who get it. It spread terribly after I got home from the hospital (odd because it usually goes away then). It has finally gone away!

Hopefully, I'll be able to share about Stephen's dedication (which was this past Sunday) soon! I'll also try to add pictures of him just after a bath...his hair is hysterical. We're making our big trip to Indiana and Michigan for the week on Friday, so I may not be able to post for a bit. Happy 4th of July week in case I don't "talk to you" till after!

Thursday, June 11, 2009

June 4th

That's Stevie's birthday!!

I'm about to share our story of labor and delivery (and yes, it's long!). I'll try not to go into grave detail about "personal stuff," however, it is labor and delivery. If you'd like to excuse yourself to another room (like my husband was asked to do...umm, more on that later), or to another blog, feel free. Last chance, here we go!

Wednesday night we went to bed. I tried to sleep as best as I could with my aching back and sciatic pain. Around 11:30pm, I got a shooting pain down my leg (sciatica), and I jerked up really fast. Well, it was almost really fast. Matt's arm was on the sleeve of my t-shirt, so after a good yank, it was really fast. Then an immediate gush. I paused, not quite sure what happened. Then, "Matt. Matt. Matt!!! I ...I...gushed!" Yes, I meant my water broke. He finally realized what I was talking about and woke up for me. :) I called my dr who happened to be on call that night (praise the Lord! His timing is perfect!), and she had me come right in. I called my parents, showered, and we were off. On the way, I called my aunt who is a midwife and has been with us every step of the way for the pregnancy. Earlier that day, I had an ultrasound and non-stress test due to the lateness of this baby's arrival. The ultrasound estimate for the baby was 9 pounds 8 ounces. The technician flat out told me it could be off by a pound, and "let's just say this is NOT s 6 pound baby." Thank you, gentle lady, way to inspire confidence....I was beyond a little scared. (Oh, it didn't help my dad was in the waiting room and called my mom telling her the estimate was 11 pounds...I guess he figured the pound increase would be 10 1/2 and rounded up to 11?...I had to do some damage control phone calling for that because the word spread fast). The "non"-stress test, well, the nurse kept saying several times I was failing. The baby's heart rate was not going above the line they wanted. She showed the results to the dr there and apparently, he "liked it," and I was sent home. Ok....I was like, if these things aren't enough to induce me...umm. Anyway, I filled my aunt in on the appointment. During the phone call on the way to the hospital, she told me to take the epidural as soon as I could. She told me to try for a natural delivery with my 2nd baby. She told me to "survive," I repeat, "survive," this one because of the size of the baby. I needed the epidural to save my strength to push him out. Yikes!

We get to the hospital, check in, and I'm still between 2-3cm, like I had been for over a month now, without any real contractions. The nurse went to put the IV in my hand, and that's when it happened. Matt slumped. He turned white. I'm saying to the nurse, "Umm, I feel it going into my wrist bone." She's not paying attention. The nurse blew my vein watching Matt about to pass out. Poor guy. He got some juice and was asked to leave the room. This causes Becky to worry about how he'll do for the rest of the delivery! The nurse then goes about poking my other hand, actually telling me she wasn't paying attention to me because she was watching, "Dad." Oh, thanks. She blew another one during conversation, saying I had weird veins. Thankfully, she decided to let the nurse upstairs try. She put it in a much better spot anyway (on my forearm) and did it on the first try.

There was an unbelievable feeling in me as we entered my birthing room and saw the "crib" our baby was to be placed in. It already had his little hat and diaper in it, just waiting. My parents arrived and stayed for about an hour from 2-3am. I walked with Matt a bit around the halls and rocked in the rocking chair. My contractions were odd...all in my bottom...and yes uncomfortable. Then Matt and I tried to rest between the monitoring and contractions. I watched the monitor for awhile and asked the nurse what it means when my "hill" goes off the charts. (There were 3 other patients' charts visible on the monitor, and mine appeared to be the only one peaking like that.) I guess it means my contractions were getting stronger...go figure. I listened to the Pride and Prejudice soundtrack and some of our wedding songs, and even slept a little. Things got a little more intense and by 5am, I asked to try out the tub with the jets. At this point my body was really shaking. Matt kept asking me if I was cold. In between contractions, I told him, "No, I'm in labor." After awhile, I told Matt I wanted something to help me "get a break." We held on though, taking one contraction at a time. The nurse came in to check on me and asked me if things were changing. I said the contractions were either getting closer together or more intense. I couldn't tell. I could hardly think. She told me, "Well, I hope they aren't getting any closer together...they're already pretty close." I "enjoyed" the tub for an hour in all when the resident doctor came in. She wanted to know if I would like to be checked. I told her in between shakes, "Uhhh, yes and no. I do, but I'm afraid I haven't made any progress." I could not make any decisions for myself during the rest of labor. So, she checked me. I was 9cm! This was 6am. I couldn't believe my ears! Many residents came by and said, "Hey, we heard you're really rocking this labor! No one would guess you're 9cm because you're so stoic." Ha! Thanks for the encouragement, but I'm not really ready to party. At this point, Matt called my parents to give them the update. Mom was ready to come straight to the hospital and had to interrupt my dad's early morning basketball game for him to come by too...even though he knew it would still be several more hours. The college security came down with the message and found my brother, who has the same name, and told him, "Hey, you're going to be a grandpa again. It's time to go!" Well, my 30something year old brother won't be a grandpa, but my dad ended up getting the message. Back at the hospital, my doctor came in and said she could break my water (I guess I broke up high and needed down low done) and then I could start pushing. Huh? Really? So, that's what we did.

I pushed, and pushed, and pushed. For 2 hours, the doctor and Matt said they could see his head. Encouraging at first, not so much after 2 hours. Matt was wonderful. He stood by me, held my leg, and was so sweet in his words. He did NOT show any queasy signs whatsoever. The doctor kept saying what a great team we were. I loved hearing that...well, reflecting on that after. The doctor kept asking if I'd like my legs up. I had no idea what she was talking about and didn't care to ask...until a couple hours passed. I just couldn't respond. Between each contraction, I closed my eyes and tried to rest...even dose if I could, to gather all my strength. You just have no idea how long it will be. I heard pretty much everything going on (though the talking really was minimal except during the pushing). I heard the (annoying) ticking of the clock in the silent room and desperately wanted to know what time it long it had been, but I saved my energy for more important things. My doctor kept commenting quietly, "she's just so focused." A lady came in all hyped up, and said, "Your mom is going crazy wanting to know how you're doing (a bit of an exaggeration, though somewhat truthful). Can I tell her you're getting close?" I had a hard time thinking and responding, but I got the idea I wasn't really all that close. I told her, "yes,"...thinking of course you can tell my mom I'm getting close. You can tell her whatever is going on here. I guess that whole privacy thing got in the way...I should've signed something so she could know what was going on. I didn't care who knew. Are you kidding me? She's my mom, and here I am obvious to everyone in the room, and those who came and went, how "I'm doing." My doctor asked again about my legs, and I let out an exhausted, "I don't know what you mean." "Ohhh, we can hold your legs up for you inbetween the contractions as well as during!" I'm thinking, all this time I didn't have to heave my legs in the air every time I went to push?!! I gladly took her up on the offer...finally! Yes, there were times, near the end, that a few emotions tried to take over...sort of whimpers, cries, "I can't do this anymore" feeling after pushing and pushing. I was drenched in sweat. But, I tried to push (haha, push) those feelings away, and I kept praying to be amazed by the strength and grace of our Lord. He was faithful...beyond faithful. The doctor kept saying, "Wow, you are pulling strength from somewhere." Yup, the joy of the Lord was my strength. Stephen even wiggled around to make the labor more effective. That was a weird feeling! The doctor kept saying he was "helping me" and that he loved labor as his heartrate was so steady. Don't get too comfortable with it little baby! After 2 and a half hours of pushing (and my doctor graciously extending her shift, cancelling meetings and appointments to see me through this delivery), at 9:15am, my big boy arrived (9 pounds 1 oz, 21 1/2 inches)! The doctor looked at Matt, giving him the signal, and he leaned into my face with tears in his eyes and complete happiness said, "It's a boy!" I heard some little cries and leaned forward with the rest of my strength to see my boy. I cried and just kept saying over and over, "That's our baby, that's our baby." Matt cut the umbilical cord, and they put him on my chest. I've never felt such exhaustion (haha), and yet, incredible joy and blessed-ness. The first thing I noticed was his weight and size! "He's soo heavy and big!" It was hard to hold him, but he was perfect. The doctor and nurses just kept talking about his size and how they couldn't wait to weigh him. Everyone loved his thick, black curly hair! So, I looked up at Matt and said, "So, is this Stephen?" "Can he be?" "Yes!" It was so amazing to see the look in Matt's eyes after Stevie was born. He just kept telling me what a great job I did (and later, he said, he had no idea I had so many veins in my forehead and face that could stick out so much! haha) and how beautiful our son was. I had been hoping to have a son to name after the partner God gave me, who I love so much. Stephen Matthew is named after Daddy, Matthew Stephen, and means crowned gift of God. We pray he grows to be a strong, courageous, faithful man of God like his Daddy, and Stephen and Matthew in the Bible.

I know I was blessed with a good labor, and a pretty quick one too (well, except for the pushing!). I really don't know when "transition" occured, and to my knowledge, I never yelled at Matt. :) I did throw the washcloth off my forehead though that the nurse gave me at the beginning of pushing. It was too cold and distracting. I guess I acted a little aggressive with that, but Matt said the nurse took it in stride. haha God's timing was perfect. My very own doctor was able to deliver him (she is great!!), and I even knew 3 of my nurses. I am completely humbled, yet more confident (strange combo I know) that I delivered our son, and all naturally at that. I certainly do not blame any woman who gets an epidural or pain relief, understanding that I wanted "a break," and I'm sure every labor and delivery is different for every woman and pregnancy. Natural devlivery was my desire from the start, but I will not say I did it on my own. My wonderful Matthew was a huge support, and undoubtedly, I was shown God's grace and mercy, as He gave me the strength and perseverance I needed. So, here we are, with our beautiful (ok, Matt, handsome!) son, Stephen, or Stevie for short. What a miracle he is!

Friday, June 5, 2009

It's a Boy!!!

Stephen Matthew arrived at 9:15am on June 4th...a BIG boy, weighing 9 pounds 1 ounce, 21 1/2 inches long! He's named after Daddy (first and middle are switched). Matt was great even though we got off to a rocky start! ;) I'll share more about the story later. For now, here's a few pictures of our little (big) Bubba. We are doing well and couldn't be happier.

Wednesday, June 3, 2009

Peanut Butter and Balogna Sandwiches

No, that's not a new craving I have. It was a concoction I created as a child, hoping for the best of both worlds I suppose. (I still struggle with indecision sometimes.) Thankfully, I learned from it and never made such a sandwich again. Why do I bring up such a nasty combination? Because true to form, I have a few nasty concoctions going on right now inside me. Me being 12 days late is no news to you. Neither is the fact that I pulled a ligament in my back and have shooting sciatica pain down my right side. How's this to just top things off? Only because I am who am do these things happen.

Well, it was requested to see another belly picture. I believe this was taken on Friday at my parents. My dad just gets a kick out of the ginormous size of my belly. He sent this lovely picture to the entire family, and so I share with you all because I'm crazy. There is nothing flattering about it, and you can tell I'm thrilled with the idea of my picture being taken by my hand gestures. I need to take a "good" picture sometime (which probably does not exist at this point), maybe later today, of me in an upright position.

Ok, so I realize I never answered my question 2 paragraphs ago. No, that's not my pregnancy forgetfulness (which has definitely taken over). I just wanted you to see the size of this enormous watermelon of a belly so you understand why I might have pulled a ligament and how uncomfortable I am with the new "icing on the cake" discomfort. Are you ready? I seem to have poison ivy on my incredibly stretched, already sore and tender belly! Does it get any better than this? I noticed the other day it was a bit more itchy than usual, but my stomach which looks more like a vertical volcano that's erupted with lots of "grooves" now, shall we say. Yes, those stretch marks made it hard to see the little red patches forming. I know this is gross. Tell me about it! My suspicions seem to be confirmed this morning. How did I get it? My husband had a little on his neck from paintball, and somehow, I must have scratched his neck and then my belly because isn't that something everyone does? I don't know. I'm Becky. This is what happens. Of course, my husband has had poison ivy more times than I can count in the 2 years we've been married. He seems to be a magnet. I have never once in my life contracted it! That is, not until now! Because, after all, it is the icing on this pregnancy cake. Matt and I were just saying 2 days ago how I appear to not be sensitive to it because I've been exposed so many times and how we're hoping our children get that immunity from me. Ha! Yesterday, on the tv show, The Drs., they were just saying how poison ivy is not contagious. Mmm, hmm. Thankfully, we have some good cleanser and anti-itch stuff since this is common in our household. Hopefully, that will do the trick.

So, later this morning, I'm on my way to an ultrasound and non-stress test to make sure the baby is doing ok. We're also interested in the size of this baby. Yeah, you saw my picture! We'll see if they turn me away after noticing my lovely red spots. Please pray it doesn't spread, that all is well with the baby, and that relief comes soon!

Monday, June 1, 2009

Is it Already Monday Again?

Ok, I know it's only been 2 posts since a Not Me Monday, but here we are again.

Welcome to Not Me! Monday! This blog carnival was created by MckMama. You can head over to her blog to read what she and everyone else have not been doing this week.

For starters, I did not plan a secret attack on my husband while he was in the bathroom. I did not use the Nerf gun from his birthday that I obviously don't know how to handle yet. I of course did not burst into laughter upon rounding the corner because I can't do such things quietly, and he did not end up surprising me by coming out of the bathroom earlier than I expected. In my surprise, I did not get trigger happy and shoot him at super close range, hitting him right in the lip due to my terrible aim. I did not almost cry as it started to puff because I was so sorry.

My wonderful husband most certainly did not surprise me today when I arrived at my parents this afternoon taking a couple hours off from work to spend with his wife. As soon as I entered the door, I was not greeted by my adorable 2 year old nephew, Nathanael, who did not get all excited to see, "Becky, Ball." You see, when he says ball, he could not be referring to the large ball I appear to be hiding under my shirt. He did not ask "Becky, Ball" to sit on the little kitchen circle rug while patting the exact place he thought would be a nice seat. I did not tell the poor boy that "Becky, Ball" would never get up from that nice little spot from the middle of the kitchen floor if "we" sat there and it was best left for our dog, Caleb. When we left, Nathanael did not give me a hug and then proceed to give "ball" a great big grin and hug.

You all heard about how I did not pull a ligament in my back on Friday, which has now not resulted in sciatic pain in my rear. But, you know me, I'm not a complainer!

We did not get the call today that our car was finally ready for pick up after that little deer incident. We were not dropped off at the repair shop by a man from the rental company who got lost on our way and then chatted our ear off leaving me thinking we would never get out of the car. My husband was not told his payment card was expired as he tried to pay the deductible. Of course his card would not have expired yesterday! He did not, therefore, have to walk to the nearest bank to take care of the situation because afterall, we did not already turn in our rental. I did not worry after Matt left on his hike to the bank that it would be closed. I reached into my purse to find that I did not leave my cell phone at home plugged into the charger, unable to call him. I then did not brace myself for a tired, frustrated husband to return. He did not make it all the way back when we realized we could have used my card. Oops. I have not lost my marbles due to this pregnancy. So now, we of course do not have to switch over our hospital gear to another vehicle...again. I do not actually miss the stink of the rental car after riding home in our original vehicle with a new unpleasant stench and worry about the carseat getting stinky or what the baby will be breathing in.

I also do not watch that little video clip I posted below several times a day. I would never admit to watching a few times in a row at different times during the day as a "pick-me-up." If you haven't seen it, I'm sure it will put a smile on your face!

Ok, I'll stop there. My weeks tend to be full of "adventures," but I'm sure you don't want to hear about them all. Happy Monday everyone!