My Birth (And Near Death) Story Pt.1

Because every blog has a birth story right?
And, when God gives you a miracle you should tell people about it!

Little Beemer, shortly after birth.
I can't tell you how many times I heard "look at all that hair!"

July 5, 2008, my grandpa's birthday, was our due date for our very first little bundle of joy. I was working full time and worked up until July 3rd, which was a Thursday. I was to be induced Monday if he didn't come sooner. I really did NOT want to be induced. I started feeling like it was going to happen that weekend. Just kind of a hunch, and my body felt different somehow.

Fourth of July rolls around and we head out to a party at our friend's place (who by the way, has labor-inducing stairs). It was a pool party, but I had the good sense to stay out of the pool that day. (Like I said before, things were changing. If you've had a baby you know what I mean!) My husband asked if we should take the hospital bag with us, to which I said no. I guess I didn't think we would actually go into labor! On the way to the party I told him "We better not get there and have to leave because I go into labor."

Well, that's exactly what happened. I went up those labor-inducing stairs and started doing what all pregnant women do. Eat. I had just enough time to down some queso and other stuff you do NOT want to have in your tummy when you're in labor. Up comes my best friend, who gives me a hug, and POP. Something happened in my stomach that I can only describe as the feeling of a balloon popping followed by the feeling of peeing on myself.

I didn't say anything and immediately took myself to the bathroom. There was a slow trickle, but I wanted to make SURE I didn't just pee on myself before I started telling my friends. Suddenly, I became very shy. My friends like to retell the story that I walked around and whispered to them "Hey, I think my water just broke." WHAT?! Your water broke?! Why are you being quiet about it?

So, we headed to the hospital. My husband, for whatever reason, was suddenly in a HUGE hurry. Like I was going to be lucky enough to have the baby come out of me on the way to the hospital. Oh, I would give anything for that experience compared to what I got. I tried to go home for my bag, he wouldn't take me. Within a few minutes of being in the car it became very obvious that my water in fact had broken. I started having contractions, and with every one more of that fluid came out. By the time we got to the hospital I was soaked. I was embarrassed to walk in. I remember the person who got on the elevator with me let me go first. I thought for sure they couldn't see the huge wet spot on me.

Here we are before the real pain began, still looking happy.

From there, things went pretty quickly. My water broke around 4:00 and around 10:30 I was 7cm. In between that time I, regretfully, accepted narcotics in my IV while waiting my epidural. I experienced a lot of shaking and a lot of anxiety. I had no idea shaking in labor was so normal. I would absolutely not take narcotics again and would not reccomend them to someone else in labor. It was not a good experience. The epidural, however, was glorious. I was terrified of getting it, it was absolutely no big deal. I barely felt it when they numbed me up and the pain just melted away. In fact, maybe a little too much. Around 11pm I called my nurse to tell them I was feeling extreme pressure. My nurse was on break, but the fill in nurse agreed to check me even though it had only been 30 minutes. She checked and said "You're 10cm, time to push!" Up went the stirrups, just like that. My parents were in the room, along with my a friend and my husband.

And here I am after awful narcotics. Big difference!

After 2.5 hours of this fun stuff, the doctor came in and said "You have a fever, you've developed and infection and this baby needs to come out." We could see his head, but he wouldn't come far enough down to crown (my husband likes to say his hair made it's appearance on Fourth of July, gross). I honestly think I just did not know what I was doing and my epidural was so strong I wasn't feeling anything. The nurse later told me my pelvis was very narrow. My doctor disagrees, but I think having birthed without an epidural would have done me a lot of favors. Not much you can do for your pelvis when you're on your back.

They told me they could either use forceps or do a c-section. They said the forceps would cause some damage that sounded pretty bad to me. So, in the moment, I opted for a c-section. I'm still not sure if I made the right decision, but the fact that I had a c-section is one of my only regrets in life. I hate it.

Ready for surgery! I have the funniest video of my husband spinning in circles, videoing himself, on a doctor chair.
He was telling the camera that they'd just taken me back and showed us the time.

My shaking had finally calmed down, but as soon as they started prepping me I started again. I was terrified. I remember asking the anesthesiologist "What if I can feel them cut into me?" And, I remember him telling me "They already did." Weird! I didn't feel any pain, but I quickly started to feel them tugging him out of me at which point I went into all-out panic mode and kicked off the leg strap, it left a bruise across my thigh. The anesthesiologist said "I'm going to give you a margarita." I thought "I'm going to NEED one when I get out of here!" The room started spinning. Next thing I knew, I was awake, my husband was holding little Beemer and I felt like I was suffocating from the drugs. Apparently he was born at 1:34am. I couldn't tell you, I was out cold.

We made it to our room around 4:30 and the next three hours were the best part of the whole experience. My husband slept, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I just hung out with my little man, tried to nurse, looked at him. It was wonderful and was a huge blessing considering what was about to come.

Fast forward 9 hours or so. My in-laws and my best friend and her husband are in my room (remember, the one who hugged me and my water broke). My parents were on their way to the hospital. The baby went to the nursery with our pediatrician, I never saw them come back. I started experiencing immense pain in my side. My husband took everyone to the waiting room. The nurse came in and gave me pain meds, they weren't even touching the pain. I said I think I'm just being anxious, I'm seeing fireworks. She took my BP, it was 60 over 40. She said, nope you're not being anxious. My husband, in the waiting room, heard "Rapid Response Team Room 225." Without saying a word, he high tailed it to my room where they were wheeling out a crash cart.

Click here for Part 2.

The (And Near Death) Part (Pt. 2)

Multiple doctors, nurses, etc. came to my aid. Fortunately, the crash cart was being wheeled out because I didn't need it. The pain was worsening and I think I had my eyes closed for most of it because I mostly remember hearing, and not seeing, what was going on. The nurse could feel that my side was feeling up with blood and growing in size by the minute. I remember the doctor calling for a sonogram, and calling again saying that when she said NOW she meant NOW. We didn't wait for it. She told me I was bleeding internally, they would take me to surgery and repair it. They would remove my uterus if they had to. Needless to say, they didn't. And, did I have any questions? "Am I going to die?" I think I asked that, in between desperate prayers, until they transferred me over to the operating table in a very bright, white room.

I woke up in ICU. Coming out of anesthesia is a horrible feeling. I felt smothered. My throat was killing me from the tube that had been down it. They wouldn't let me drink anything in case I had to go back into surgery. It was so annoying. I begged every person who came in to give me one more ice chip. They said if that was my biggest complaint they were really happy. The pain in my side and abdomen was excruciating. Labor pain was nothing compared to this. I pushed the morphine pump as fast as I could for the next five days. When they took me to surgery they knew I was bleeding, what they didn't know was that I had ruptured my uterine artery. This artery pumps blood at a very high rate after you've had a baby. This complication is almost unheard of. To this day, they can't tell me why it happened.

Daddy giving baby a bottle. I have a lot of pictures like this,
of other people other than me in my hospital bed!
My husband stayed in my PP room while I was in ICU.

For five more days, I laid in ICU. I didn't shower. I didn't brush my teeth. I didn't spend more than 3 hours at a time with my baby. They did me a huge favor by jumping through many hoops to make those 3 hours happen. I didn't nurse and I didn't pump until about the 4th day. I don't think I got out of bed for 3 days or so, when my bowels woke up. They kept waiting for them to wake up and when they did I knew it! They had this little toilet that opened up out of a cabinet that I had to use. My heart rate was over 100 for the full five days, part of the reason I stayed in ICU so long. There was one doctor who made me extremely anxious, every time he came in the door my heart rate would sky rocket. One day, after he left, it stayed in the 120s for a good hour or so. I was burning up. I remember my parents came in the room and sat under one tiny blanket because it was so cold in there. The day my heart rate came down, I made them turn up the air. It was freezing in there.

Family picture in the ICU. The hospital gave me this pillow for hugging and coughing.
They also jumped through major hoops to get Beemer up to my room.
He shouldn't have been able pass the doors on the PP floor due to security reasons.

I finally was released to a room where I spent another 5 days. Seven of my days in the hospital I was getting 3 types of antibiotics by IV. They came in, in the middle of the night, and put a pic line in my arm. I had no idea what it was until it came out, about a 12" line that ran into my chest. If I'd known they never would have put it in me! That pic line kept them from having to continuously poke me as they were taking blood 3 times a day and also running my antibiotics multiple times.

Here I am, out of ICU, wrapping up my arm with a onesie and a barf bag
so I can take a shower without wetting my pic line.

When I made it back to my room, I was detached from the baby and still very anxious. I had to wait 24 hours for the pain meds to wear off before I could try nursing (It had now then been 6 days). Naively, I had decided in my mind I was going to nurse and never thought it wouldn't work. I know now it was a miracle I went home nursing a baby who had spent 6 days on a bottle. Not to mention, the blood loss I had should have killed any chance at nursing. I had received 10 units of blood. My body contains about 8. Needless to say, I wouldn't be here today if people didn't donate their blood. I am eternally grateful. I finally was able to nurse and then my doctor ordered a test on my ureter. They ran iodine through my arm and it came full force into my bladder. They wouldn't let me go to the bathroom until all the fluid had gone through my entire system and my bladder was spilling over. They needed multiple sets of xrays of the process. It was not fun. I was so mad because I then had to wait another 24 hours to nurse again. In the end of it, I went home nursing and was thrilled.

Slow feeding Beemer a bottle. They told us to do a suck, suck, twist the bottle routine.
This way he wouldn't think the bottle was super fast and awesome and not want to nurse.

Love him!

On the 10th day, we finally took our little baby home. I remember laying him in his bed and being amazed at how tiny he looked. I remember being in shock at how incredibly quiet our house was compared to the hospital, I wanted to cry. I loved every minute of it. Of course, I was exhausted, and still in bad pain for a few weeks. But, I was on a high from this little life that I now had. I am forever grateful to the doctors who took care of me and to the blood donors who literally saved my life. And of course, I am grateful to God, who ultimately protected me. I distinctly remember one of the doctors coming in and saying there was a three letter word that saved my life that day, AGE. I told him I thought it was God. I'm grateful to all my friends who poured into the hospital to visit me and little Beemer, we had so much support.

Back in my room, looking alive again!

 
If I could tell pregnant women anything I would say two things. One, c-sections are not minor surgery. Things can and DO go wrong. I'm sorry, but this opting for a c-section thing is NUTS. Be informed. Two, I really do believe that epidurals prohibit us from putting our body in position to birth a baby. Again, be informed, and consider that decision. I don't know if I have the guts to birth a baby without an epidural, but the pain I experienced was far, far greater than what I would have.

Snuggles in ICU.

Thanks for hanging with me and reading! (I assume somebody has made it to the end of this saga). And many thanks to God for this experience. It was a good/bad experience. I faced many fears and relied on God to get me through it. While I wouldn't wish it on anybody, I am glad to be able to say I've experienced a miracle in my life.

Back for a visit a few weeks later, one of my many great nurses.

I love you little man!

Makin' A Mess

Here's my little girl eating ice cream. She's so little, she's just not quite at the point of taking all her own bites. She thinks she can eat it with her fingers. She will not accept my help. If I reach over and grab her spoon she screams her little head off at me.

 

While I was watching her learn to eat her ice cream, I was reminded of how sometimes
I act the same way towards God. He waits patiently (much more patiently than myself) to help me. Yet, so often, I try to eat my ice cream on my own. And, it takes me much longer and
is much messier. I make that pouty-face, hold out my hand and say "No, I don't have time
to seek you first, I must take care of all these other things in front of me."

But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness,
and all these things will be given to you as well. Matthew 6:33

Then, with my messy face and stained shirt I get desperate. And with that desperation
comes enough humility to ask for help, or at least receive it when it's offered to me.
Thankfully, God can clean me up and make me look good again. He gives me the mercy
I need to overcome my problems, He sends me a friend who lends an ear.

Therefore I urge you, brethren, by the mercies of God,
to present your bodies a living and holy sacrifice, acceptable to God,
which is your spiritual service of worship. Romans 21:1

Not only does this little ice-cream covered angel teach me that I need to let God help me,
but she teaches me that I need to show her the patience God shows me. It might take a little longer, but learning is accomplished when you are allowed to do something yourself. So, sometimes
I need to back away and let her get messy, waiting nearby to scoop up her last little melted bite.

One of the greatest gifts my children have given me is humility.

You stiff-necked people, with uncircumcised hearts and ears!
You are just like your fathers:
You always resist the Holy Spirit!

Acts 7:51

Spontaneity: Plan for it

I never have more fun with my kids than when we do something spontaneous.

We set up the pool on a whim and slide down the slide into it.

Then we put sand in a bowl with some water and get messy.

We put on our tux and have a dance party.

The kids take over the car while I'm working in the garage.

 

 

We stop and play at the splash pad, even though we are in plain clothes,
and on our way to the museum.

 

 

We take our Play-Doh outside, well not when it's 106 degrees!

We take lots of silly pictures.

And stick our tongues out.

Sometimes schedules need to be interrupted and memories need to be made.
So plan to be spontaneous. You'll be so glad you did.

How to Eat A Waffle

Mix up your batter and proceed to making waffles in the iron. Put off feeding your PT (potty training) child until all the food is ready in anticipation that she will take a poo while she's eating. Be prepared to whisk her away to the potty while eating your food.

Put food on the table for both children and prepare the perfect waffle to butter to syrup ratio on your own waffle. Pour milk for yourself and your older child, which will later be dumped in the sink when he decides he wants water.

Look at the table. Realize the time has come, as you knew it would, that PT child would poo while eating. Whisk her away as planned. Disinfect. Put child back at table in new seat.

Walk towards your perfectly buttered and syruped waffles. Put your hand on your milk glass. Hear PT child asking for more milk in her sippy. Forget your waffles and provide said milk.

Walk back towards your waffles again. Put your hand on your plate. Hear older child requesting more waffle. Forget your waffles and put more batter on the waffle iron. Tell him NO when he says he wants your waffle. Cut up the waffle, put it on his plate and start eating.

Eat a few bites. Eat quick, now, PT child will momentarily run out of waffle and request more. Leave your waffles again, which are now cold, and start another waffle for PT child.

Return to table, eat a few bites. Return to kitchen, remove and cut up waffle, put it on PT child's plate. Resume eating. Hear PT child say "peepee" and look down at her chair. Forget your perfect soggy waffles, clean up pee. Disinfect. Clean up child.

Head back to table. Answer older child by giving him your remaining waffle when he asks you if you're done. Remember why you frequently wait until 8 or 9 pm to eat dinner.

Repeat every time you want to eat. Think about how cute he was when he asked you if you were done with your waffle. Try to remember the few success PT child had today and hope for more tomorrow.

As always, pray, there are 23 hours left in a day.

Vacation Day

My idea of a vacation sure has changed. Last summer it was a trip to Chicago. This summer it's a morning of free VBS for my son, leaving me with only one child to play with. Vacation, seriously.

 I really did cherish the 3 hours I spent with just my daughter. It's never just been the two of us like it was for Beemer and I before she was born. I'm looking forward to spending some time with her next year on his pre-school days.

It was a rare day that I didn't plan anything, so after dropping off Beemer at the church we headed to shop for shoes. In an even more rare event we found two pair of shoes, in the right size, that fit exactly what we needed right now. Did I mention they were on sale? She loves bracelets, so I picked one up for her as well since they were half off! I love Kid to Kid.



As we checked out at the store, my sweet little almost two year old was "caught being good" and given a coupon for a free dessert at McDonalds. It really is amazing how much better they behave when individually. I love good marketing when I see it and this was brilliant. The neighboring McD's has just remodeled and is really cool. So for probably 50 cents on their part they got me in the door. Now that I've seen the playground I'll be back. In fact, I told one of my friends and she went over there this afternoon! I digress. I'm sure there will be a play date here soon.

Check out this soft toddler play area, the whole thing is touch activated to make musical sounds when you touch it. They also have the usual bigger playground next to it, which is musical as well.



I went all the way to the top with Sister. These things make musical sounds when you rotate them.



She had a lot of fun climbing up the slide, hiding and giggling. The slide sings a little tune when you get towards the bottom. She was a little spooked by the sounds initially and didn't have any desire to play. She perked up when another little girl came along, I think she was lost without her big brother to show her the way!




After McD's I asked Sister if she wanted to swing by another resale shop to see if we could find any shoes for a better price. I said "What do you think, should we do it?" And she said "do it!" She's such a little talker. Turns out they're closed on Mondays so we made a quick stop at the antique store. She did so well, she looked and didn't run around and touch stuff. I look forward to many future shopping trips with her.

With such a full morning sister took a late and long nap. So I continued my one kid vacation with Beemer after I mowed the yard for my husband. We birdwatched killed two hornets the size of hummingbirds in my yard. We also went to the beach played in a bowl of sandy water on the back porch after we went to the waterpark slid down the play house slide into a toddler size cheapy pool. There was a spontaneous water hose fight in there somewhere as well.

It was a great day. I feel so fulfilled when I stop what I'm doing and spend time with my babies. It's always worth the time spent and at the end of the day I don't feel guilty for all the times I told them no I couldn't play or turned the tv on to get them out of my hair. Vacation or not, it felt like a break for me and that's exactly what I needed.

How to check out a library book

Wait until nap time is over to leave for the library. Look up at the sky and realize you're probably going to be pelted with rain and maybe hail while you're out. Be glad when it doesn't happen.

Strap children into car seats and proceed to library. Ask yourself multiple times why you got on the freeway. Sit in traffic when you exit as it is narrowing down to one lane. Wait. Wait a little longer. Proceed to library.

Take children out of car seats and avoid getting run over in the parking lot by carrying one heavy little tot and holding the hand of the other. Make it safely to the children's section.

Immediately ask librarian where you can find super hero books. Ask yourself why she didn't look something up or walk you to the specific section instead of pointing to three shelves of books where they are "usually kept". Look up and down all three shelves aimlessly. Chase small toddler around library as she thinks this is a fun game. Momentarily lose big toddler. Breathe a sigh of relief.

Weave your way through all the kids who just came out of movie day. Take mental note to come at a different time next time.

Ask second librarian where you can find Superhero books. Stop following her to that area and go grab small toddler who has actually found interest in some puzzles. Come back to librarian who is telling your the big toddler needs to potty.

Walk all the way to front of the library, not realizing you were standing next to a restroom. Walk all the way back, past the restroom. All the while lug your heavy little tot to avoid chasing. Find restroom and shudder. Your child is NOT sitting on THAT. Definitely do not put your heavy little tot down in here.

Come back out to find very nice librarian who has pulled Superhero books for you and wait while she puts one on hold for you that is more age appropriate.

Chase little tot around while your big boy peacefully looks for more books. Proceed to leave in a hurry as things are going downhill fast.

Attempt to scan your library card. Look at the teen who's there volunteering playing on her phone and realize she has no intention of helping you. Look at the first not so helpful librarian and ask for help. Wait, while holding heavy squirming little tot, while she trims the excess plastic off your card so it will scan. Be shocked when you have a $9.99 fine you thought you took care of already. Ask helpless teen if they have bags. She won't know the answer. Get sent to front desk. Buy a bag because they are no longer free.

Lug your books and kids to the car and leave. Sit through the same light 6 or so times in your effort to avoid the freeway. Think about how bad your head hurts.

Turn around and look in the back seat at your big boy peacefully reading his Superhero books and smile. Think maybe it was all worth it. Take mental note to forget leave small tot at home with your husband next time you go.

Say a prayer, there's still 23 more hours in a day.

If I Were Satan...

I'd take one look at that Vine and I'd set out to demolish it.

If I were smart, I'd start out when the vine was small, when it was easy to tackle. Before it laid years worth of roots under the ground that I would have to slowly and painfully uncover.

One summer I'd hire somebody to cut it all off the fence and spray it with vine killer. It would work. Temporarily.

The next summer I'd mostly leave it alone. Hacking away a little at it's leaves and throwing them in the trash. Over all I would just look at it with frustration.

Another year I would look back in the yard and I would see that the Vine had hopped off the fence and attached itself to my tree. I would trim the tree and Vine away from each other and set out on a mean streak to kill that Vine.

I would wear my gloves. I would pull out multiple trash bags. I would work in the morning, afternoon and evening. I would work when my kids were awake and when they were asleep. I would work all day long. I would enlist the help of my husband.

I would start with the leafy abundance at the top of the fence and use all my strength to cut it, rip it off and throw it away. I would cut the roots close to the bottom of the fence, realizing for every root I cut there were a hundred more. I would throw away the grapes that had grown on the Vine. It would be a lot of work.

I would keep hacking away until sweat was pouring off my face. I would see that so much of the Vine was gone, yet so much remained. I would contemplate jumping the fence and taking care of the Vine on my neighbor's side of the fence. I would look around my feet and see leaves littered all over the ground. I would see the dead Vine from summers' past still attached to my fence.

Eventually, I would uncover the root ball. I would be impressed at the enormity of it. I would use my tools to cut away as much of it as I could, shrinking it as small as possible. I would dig around it and cut around it, realizing minimal progress each time. I would put all my weight on the shovel and try to break the ground around it. I would realize that even if I dug that root up out of the ground there would still be a system of roots underneath that would only come back again. I would stand on top of the root and bounce up and down seeing that it would barely budge with all my weight.

I would give up  in defeat. I would have put so much work in to killing that Vine and it would still be alive at the root. I would give up. For now. I would have to come up with a new plan of attack. Maybe a root killer would do the trick. Maybe my husband could dig up that root ball. I would find a way. I would know the danger of leaving that Vine unattended, so I wouldn't wait long for fear of losing all my hard work. I would know that if I left it, it would take over my yard and I wouldn't even be able to make a dent. I would come back, with a vengeance.

"The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly." John 10:10

"For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord." Romans 8:38-39