Birth Story (long version)

I think I'll always have a hard time answering the question, "when did you go into labor?", or "how long were you in labor with Andrew?". It mostly started on Tuesday, April 26th. I had a doctor's appointment Tuesday morning, and as I was driving downtown to it, I had the strongest feeling that I needed to get everything finished in the next couple of days, because I would have the baby by the end of the week. I'd been having increasingly strong contractions, and had had a few other signs that labor was nearing. At my appointment, she recommended that I have my membranes stripped. I said was fine with that, so she went ahead with it. The rest of the day was quite miserable because the procedure definitely intensified and increased the contractions I was already having. Wednessday I stayed home and cleaned like a maniac, and I still had that feeling it would be soon. And the contractions kept on coming. Thursday and Friday Rob had to be out of town for work. I was really, really nervous about it, even though he was within driving distance. As much as I wanted to have the baby, I was relieved when the contractions slowed a little on Thursday. Thursday morning TJ also woke up sick, and threw up all day. It was a rough day for everyone. By Friday the contractions, although infrequent, were strong enough that I couldn't do much else while I was having one. I didn't dare drive anywhere that day, and was super relieved when Rob made it home that night. I went to a photography class that night, and the teacher took the one real picture of me pregnant with Andrew.
Saturday I sprang up out of bed with loads of energy. We packed up the car and headed downtown to the Arts Festival, went out to lunch, and generally had a nice day. That afternoon we went to the park to practice what I'd learned at my photography class while TJ played, and then we picked up take-out. I'd tried to stay busy enough all day to ignore whatever was going on with my body, but as we walked in the door, I suddenly wasn't so sure I'd be able to eat. All that night the contractions continued, although they never established a regular pattern, but they did continue slowly building in intensity. Because of the contractions (on top of the pregnancy, and the heartburn, and the bladder, etc etc), I had not been able to sleep more than a few hours a time since about Tuesday. Saturday night I was so exhausted, I just fell into bed, and did okay. Sunday morning the contractions were every 8 minutes apart, and were as strong as anything I'd experienced with my first labor. I'd had alot of bloody show over the past couple of days, so we called Rob's mom and told her to begin the two-hour drive to OKC. We were in a flurry of preparations, packing the car, and readying the house. But by the time Rob's mom arrived, the contractions had STOPPED for the first time in days. I was furious, I was so miserable, and tired of waiting for something to happen. It was a rainy, cold day, so I couldn't even go for a walk. I called the doctor, looking for some sort of reassurance or something (I couldn't help but be worried about the bizarre path the contractions were taking); the doctor on call told me that until the contractions established a regular pattern, and got closer together, nothing was going to happen, and that women could spend WEEKS in the stage I was at. I was devastated, certain I would be pregnant forever, having these erratic contractions that I could neither talk nor drive through. I had Rob drive me to Walmart so I could walk and wallow in my misery (it seemed an appropriate place), since it was too wet to be outside. I walked for a long time, came home, and the day drug on. The contractions resumed just before dinner, but again were irregular and erratic, but still gaining in intensity. I was going nuts, Googling every sign and symptom, and kept coming up with the same result: labor could be hours, days or a week away. I hauled Rob along on another long walk, this time outside. We walked three miles through the neighborhood, and although the contractions never subsided, I felt like they were diminishing in intensity. We all went to bed, and I was so tired, I slept.
I woke up suddenly and completely at 2AM to intense contractions. I turned on my phone to try to time them, but holding myself in a relaxed state was about all I could do, and I was not very successful at it. I knew they were getting pretty close together from the amount of work I was having to do to keep really relaxed and ride through them. I woke Rob up at 3AM and asked him to time for me. He only timed two or three, before jumping out of bed and starting to throw the few remaining things in the car (it was still packed from the Sunday morning false alarm). I was trying to get myself ready, get dressed, get some makeup on, etc, but I was having a really hard time doing anything except holding it together. I remember trying to put my mascara on, and that's when I started shaking. In retrospect, it's easy for me to recognize that I was entering transition, but at the time all I knew was that I could not stop shaking, and it was so hard to get up off the floor. Child's Pose (yoga) felt so good to me, it was all I wanted to do. I could hear Rob telling me that the contractions were 3 minutes apart and I HAD to get to the car, but it was just so hard to get up, and I couldn't bring myself to feel that anything was urgent other than riding the next contraction out. I think he had to half-drag me to the car.
That car ride stands out as the worst part of the entire labor. My back hurt so bad, I couldn't sit, so I hung myself over the top of the seat and rode backwards with my chest against the head rest and my weight on my knees. The dark streets and the lights and the cars on the freeway blurred into my consciousness, and it was so hard to relax, I just held on and tried to breathe. Somehow I was able to get out of the car and walk those endless hospital hallways to L&D. Rob checked me into Triage, and the nurse checked me. I was dialated nearly to a 9, and things started to move pretty fast after that. I was thrown on a gurney (still on hands and knees) pushed into a birthing suite, and there was a flurry of activity all around that I mostly ignored. They briefly made me roll onto my back (AGONY!!!) but I flipped back to my hands and knees the moment I could. I was really deeply involved in the work of labor, but also really disassociated from it. I was aware of the pain, but somehow it wasn't hurting ME, it was hurting another me. My first push broke my water, and it felt so funny hitting my calves and feet. I remember thinking "so much for those socks" and that I was so happy I wasn't wearing my favorite socks, because I was kneeling directly over my heels in a modified wide-kneed child's pose. I heard the doctor come in, and I remember really wanting to see her face before she delivered me (there wasn't time for my own doctor to arrive, so I had never met this lady before). She leaned over the side of the bed and introduced herself, and I went to work. I remember feeling really in control, and knowing it wouldn't last much longer; I was also aware of the way I was screaming my head off with every push. What can I say? It really seemed to help. I could feel the baby moving through my pelvis, and I could feel when I needed to stop and stretch for a moment. I kept thinking about "the ring of fire" I had read about when the baby's head crowns; I didn't think it felt like a ring of fire at all, just really really tight. I remember the feeling of easing the baby through, the feel of the head, the shoulders, the body, the last leg... Done! Deep breath! I could hear the baby crying, I started pulling the darn monitors off my belly, the blood pressure cuff, so I could roll over onto my back for the first time and finally see what was going on in the room around me, see my baby, see Rob beside me, see the nurses... Delivering the placenta was really easy, and happened about 5 minutes (maybe... my grasp of time wasn't so great at the moment) later. The doctor told me I didn't tear at all, and that made me so very very happy.
And they handed my baby over to me. I have to say, he looked worse for the wear after his long, long labor and ride through the birth canal. Poor kid. He latched right on, nursed briefly, and went to sleep shortly after. I threw my socks away, took a shower, and asked for a Motrin.
Compared to TJ's delivery and recovery, this has been the most amazing recovery ever. I went for a walk the day I delivered. Saturday (12 days after delivery) I ran 1/2 mile. I can't get over how great I feel. Sleep-deprived and exhausted? Yes. But I feel GOOD, and like I have the physical strength to tackle this whole motherhood thing ...
And that is the story of how Andrew was born.

A Good Big Brother

TJ and baby brother Andrew Scott, born 5/2/11

5:28AM

8lbs, 19 3/4 inches

Two Cookbooks

Dinner here has been an unfortunate affair for months. I have had very little appetite, and very little desire to cook. However, Rob's schedule and TJ's bedtime often form a juxtaposition that is not conducive to eating out, and I can only serve crackers and bananas for dinner so many times before the menfolk revolt; and although TJ would happily live on hot dogs, cheese and ketchup, Rob is another story. And I do still have some standards. Things were grim and had to change; but NOTHING sounded good. I would flip through the cookbooks, but I'd already barfed up way too many of my standby-recipes during 1st trimester morning sickness (and I'm still not really over it) to want to try making them--or smelling them, even--again anytime soon. Then one day while hanging out with a friend she mentioned she had dinner in a crockpot at home. Hmmm. I'd almost forgotten about that thing. Not to mention, I only really had like 3-4 recipes that we LIKE that use the crockpot. This got me thinking, though; it was time to refresh the cookbook shelf. It's been a while since I've bought some cookbooks (well, it's been a while since I've cooked), and maybe some new recipes, never before regurgitated, would help us. I researched as only an obsessive, sleep-deprived pregnant woman can, bought the 4 new cookbooks that reviewed the highest, and here are the two that I've kept, used, and liked:

Okay, so since it was the mention of a crockpot that started it all, of course I jumped on this book. This is my first America's Test Kitchen cookbook, and I really like it, but it's also really different than I expected. My experience with a crockpot was limited to throwing something in, and plugging it in. To actually get good results, a little more is required. I did have to buy a new crockpot (which I also researched long and obsessively, buying and returning multiple types; I learned you get what you pay for) since mine is from my college days, sized for one to two people, and not programmable. There is definitely more prep--including pre-browning or microwaving, etc-- required for some of these recipes than I had ever planned on; however, it works for me, because I can choose when I do the prep, such as in the morning before I start feeling rotten, or during naptime. I do tend to feel the worst in the evenings, about when dinner needs to be getting started. Cooking BEFORE that happens is a nice compromise, even if I'm not necessarily eating until 8pm or so; and my men get dinner on time. Plus, it is SO nice to be able to stay late at the park and know that dinner is waiting. So I have to recommend this book. Just know that ATK does not cut any corners; the focus is on results, not on quick and easy prep. Every meal thus far has been delicious. The most common cook-time is 4-6 hours, so those who work full-time will require a programmable pot.

This is the other book I kept. A nice traditionally-organized cookbook of appetizers, sides, breads, desserts, meats, pastas, etc. I really like the ethnic influence (one of the authors lived in Brazil for 18 months), and the recipes are much more varied and lively than I had at first expected; Mormon moms are no longer all about Cream of Chicken soup and casseroles (sigh of relief). The recipes are accessible, easy to serve a family, usually not too much prep, and again, everything we've had has been really good. Plus, it's just fun to see what other families eat, and this book definitely provides a very real snapshot of real families with children and busy lives. So even if you have no interest in the book, totally check out their blog.

A few pictures from the past week

Lately, TJ has been learning how to dress himself. This sounded like a wonderful idea, until I started seeing the combinations he wants to wear. This is my favorite one of the last week. His FAVORITE color is red; can you tell?



This was another of my favorite moments of the week. He hosted a "tea party", and fed pizza to 5 stuffed cats (cats are the current favorite stuffed animal), 3 cars, and one pterodactyl.




And after a crazy day, isn't it nice to see him looking like an angel?




Did you notice that he is wearing a red shirt in every picture? Ever since about November, every shirt he wears has to have red in it, or else I can't get him to put it on. Opinionated? My son? Nah.

-- Post From My iPhone

Reasons Why, and RunAway

There are lots and lots of reasons why I don't blog anymore; most of them start with a "T" and end with a "J", but there are others as well. For example, I can't find my camera ANYWHERE, and I generally prefer to post pictures if I'm going to bother publishing a post. This does need to be remedied sometime in the next 10 weeks or so, as I'm certain to want snapshots of the baby. Although, I don't love pictures of myself pregnant, so I won't complain too loudly if we don't find the camera till the bitter end.
The pregnancy continues to go well. I have roughly 2 1/2 months or so left, and can complain of all the general aches and pains common to women in their third trimester. However, I'm generally just trying to keep my mouth shut and remember, "If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all"; and I don't have much nice to say about being pregnant. I've posted a daily and weekly goal list in my kitchen to help me cope, and it is helping. I still spend lots of time staring at the calendar and willing time along, but at least now there is something ON the calendar--other than the oppressively-distant D-Day-- to help distract me. I was able to run until just recently when the sciatica really flared up. Since then, I'm trying to do daily yoga or walks to help keep it under control, and it is helping; but I would give almost anything to take a nice long run in the sunshine. I'm really, really tired, but it can be debated how much of that comes from having an active two-year-old and how much from the pregnancy. I've finally had to admit that I'm just not going to get anywhere near as much accomplished as I had thought I could. In the beginning, I had all these grand plans of all the beautiful things I wanted to sew, and what I wanted to do with the rooms. But then morning sickness hit, and being bent over the machine was a sure-fire puke-initiator. Once I got over that, I've just been too tired, and now my hips hurt too bad to sit on that hard little chair. So I may have to eat crow and BUY curtains, and some other things that that empty room needs. Or wait until after the baby comes. And starts to sleep. And I can find some time. And I'm not too tired from being up all night. And...
well, okay. Going shopping sounds easier all the time.
TJ is going through both some really fun, and some really-NOT fun phases, all at the same time. His climbing prowess grows daily, and I am forever helping him down from precarious perches and scary heights. About six weeks ago, he mastered the art of escaping his room (yes, despite locks) and ran out the front door and up the street in his pajamas. I had put him down for a nap, and he had never before managed to get out of the crib AND get the lock opened. So I assumed he was safe. Seems reasonable, right? So I start working in the other room, and since all is silent I assume he is asleep. Now, anyone with a toddler will agree that there are only 2 times said child is quiet: 1- While fast asleep, and 2-Whilst engaged in terrible mischief. Unfortunately for me, it was the latter. During the course of his "nap", he escaped from his room, ran water over the kitchen floor, for, gauging from the amount of water, and time lapsed, about an hour, flooding the entire kitchen and pantry, and then opened the front door and took off running. All silently.
All this while I'm working in the other room, trying to get it painted and ready for TJ to move into so the baby can have the nursery (and maybe the most amazing part of this entire story, is that in order to get from his room to the kitchen, TJ had to pass the open doorway, where I was painting. HOW did he pass by the chance to climb a ladder, and HOW did I not hear anything? I wasn't listening to music, talking on the phone, or anything. I guess all my concentration was taken up by making sure I didn't fall off the ladder). So as I'm painting, I heard the front door open. It scared me to death, because I was home alone (and still believe TJ is asleep in his crib), so I'm trying to decide if I grab TJ and run for it, or if I cautiously go take a peek and see if I have an intruder in my home (and Yes, I do keep my doors locked, but TJ can open deadbolts, and has been able to for MONTHS and MONTHS now). After a moment of debate--that seemed rather long-- I decided since the dog was not barking, I had better go see who had just come in my door. So I creep out there... and find the front door wide open. The second I saw the open door I knew... I ran outside, my heart in my throat, just in time to see TJ at the top of the hill, turning the corner to the next street. And he is FAST. It still scares me just how long he was in the open road before I made it up the (steep!!! gasp gasp) hill to him. He, of course, thought the whole thing was a grand lark, and screamed in rage that I was dragging him home. I'm just glad we both survived the experience with nothing more than a saturated kitchen and pantry.
So that's us, I guess. TJ has certainly had other "adventures" lately, but that is the one of greatest note. Someday, I really need to take pictures of all different child locks I've tried with him. Rob has been really busy with work, and that's mostly a good thing. I've got a busy Primary calling, and that's mostly a good thing.
As for the blog... Well, we'll see. Lately, I have lots and lots of days where the only thing I'm really up for is keeping TJ alive (and, really, I think that's no small task, and so small accomplishment)!

Artichoke Lasagna

Despite the fact that I'm predisposed to LOVE anything with artichokes and cheese, this was a mighty tasty dish that Rob really liked as well. This recipe goes in our keeper file. I used chipotle pepper flakes instead of red pepper flakes, and the slightly smokey, hot flavor was divine with the mozzarella and artichoke.

26 oz jar of spaghetti sauce
2 14 oz cans of artichoke hearts, drained and coarsely chopped
~14 oz. jarred roasted red bell peppers, drained and coarsely chopped
15 oz container ricotta cheese
1/3 cup shredded Parmesan
2 Tbsp chopped fresh basil, or 2 tsp dried, crumbled
1/2 tsp crushed red pepper flakes (optional)
10 oz package frozen chopped spinach
2 cups shredded mozzarella cheese
1/2 tsp ground nutmeg
2 tsp garlic powder
6-8 oven-ready lasagna noodles
1 c. shredded mozzarella for garnish

Preheat the oven to 375.
In a large bowl, stir together the spaghetti sauce, artichokes, and red bell peppers.
In another bowl, stir together the ricotta, Parmesan, basil, spinach, mozzarella, and all the spices.
To assemble, spread a scant layer of the spaghetti sauce mixture in the bottom of a 9x13 baking pan. Make a layer of noodles on top. Spread half the ricotta mixture over the noodles. Top with half the remaining spaghetti sauce mixture. Repeat with remaining noodles, cheese mixture, and sauce mixture.
Lightly cover with aluminum foil. Bake for 25 minutes. Remove tinfoil, bake another 25 minutes, or until hot and bubbly. When about 5 minutes remain, top with the cup of shredded mozzarella. Let stand 5 minutes before serving.

Today

Keys torn off the laptop:
My sunglasses wrapped around a chewed-up pear:
A banana punctured full of holes using... ? I'm a little afraid to find what it was.
My purse, industriously loaded full of chex, cheerios, and craisins.
The chairs, all pushed up against bare and boring walls with no interesting objects nearby that an aspiring and clever climber and gymnast can reach:


Responsible party:


Alternate names for this post:
1. Why I've quit trying to find time to blog
2. Reasons to think twice about having children
3. Toddler mentality
4. Explain that object, please
5. Why I don't really mind that we don't have any furniture, and what we do have is old and crappy
6. An explanation of my decorating scheme, or why there are no chairs at my table or bar
7. STOP THE MADNESS
8. A two-fold explanation of why my house is a mess: TJ lives here, and if I take my eye off him for one moment to try to get something done, I end up with twice the mess I started with