Boots & Beds

Yesterday was a big day at our house. I rearrange our sleeping situation so that our mattress is now on the floor and Luke's is right next to ours. I have to thank my friend Keri for that. I was at her house and saw her arrangement. I am hoping this helps create a little more Independence between Luke and myself. Although, I think if he went cold turkey needing me during the night I would cry. Last night he didn't disappoint. He cuddled all night, but we had more room, which I know had to be nice for John and kept me from having nightmares of Luke falling out of the bed.

Yesterday also brought a huge surprise from John. I have been coveting these 70's retro UGG cowboy boots for more than a year. I saw them a Binks in downtown Franklin two summers ago, and they brought me back to the days of Olivia Newton John. They were so cool, but they were also so expensive. I have an issue with paying a lot of money for clothing items. Add that to the fact that I am not a big shopper, and you have someone who only buys stuff at Target when she desperately needs something to wear.

But, I actually considered purchasing these boots. They went on sale in the Fall, they were still really high, but I thought, "Hey. I'm worth it." Unfortunately, as these things often go, they did not have my size. I chalked it up to savings that I probably needed and forgot about the boots.

Then yesterday when I got home, John said he had a surprise for me. He pulled out a bag and inside was an UGG box. I knew immediately what it had to be. I opened the box and inside were two perfectly brand new UGG 70's retro cowboy boots in a perfect size 9. I couldn't believe my eyes. I put those suckers on, and I have to tell you that they fit like a glove.

He told me that he had been searching for them since I saw them in the store. They don't make the style any more, but he was able to find them on eBay. He had hoped to have them for me as a gift when Luke was born. It may sound silly, but these shoes from that man at that moment are the most romantic thing he has ever done. It meant so much to me that he remembered, he searched for them, and that he knew how much I wanted them but would never spend the money on myself. I have them boots on as I write this.

So, I'm sleeping on the floor with my beautiful boots on.

Thanksgiving & Baptisim Weekend

This Thanksgiving weekend was a whirlwind of activity. We spent Thanksgiving Day with my family: Parents, my sister Jennifer, her husband Stephen, and their children: Ethan, Isabelle, and Elijah, and my sister Erin. Mom cooked, we ate, and played chardes with the kids. We are probably the only family where chardes can turn into a wild and crazy game. Luke managed to sleep through the entire thing, which was amazing considering the volume level.

Saturday night we spent with John's family: Parents, brother Michael, and sister Sarah who flew in from LA Thanksgivign night. Luke was really good, and everyone got to hold him and spend time with th enew edition to the family.

Sunday, we had Luke's Baptism. I don;t know what I was expecting, but I know I was not expecting to be so moved by the service. When Rev. Highes presented Luke to the congregation and referenced John and I as his parents, it seemed so amazing. It was our first public moment as our own little family, and it was really special. I don;t think there was a dry eye in the crowd. John's brother Michael and my sister Erin stood up with us as Godparents to Luke, even though the Presbyterians don't typically recognize the tradition.

Afterward, we went back to our house and had a really lovely gathering with both families. John's Aunt and Uncle came from Kentucky, and it was a really nice time. I am so glad we did it. Luke was perfect. Right on schedule, he slept through church, but he was awake and ready for the pictures and the party after.

Mommy Play Date

Mommies need play dates more than babies, especially in the beginning. I was fortunate enough to have a play date today with my fried Keri, her daughter Kate (1 year), and a friend from Grad. School Christy.

This play date was needed more than I thought imaginable. The secret to keeping it together when attempting to navigate the first years of child rearing is talking with other women who can honestly speak about their experiences. All Moms need to know that it is OK that they some time lose their cool and that they are not the first to feel overwhelmed when a new baby comes into their life.

I just want to thank Keri for her honesty, her guidance, and her inspiration.

The Best Day

If you haven't heard it, Taylor Swift's song "The Best Day" is a must hear for anyone with a Mom. I played it for my Mom the other day and cried during most of it. The song is not sad per se and you don't have to be a huge Taylor fan to appreciate it, but it is so telling of the things that make a relationship with a Mom so special. Maybe you have to be a girl to appreciate it, or maybe you have to be a girl who did not see eye to eye with here Mom during her teenage years. But, I think the song cuts in a way that anyone with a sensitive bone in his/her body will be touched.

For me, the song is so touching because it reminds me of how quickly this life of ours goes. It seems like just the other day I was wearing slim jeans with hair down my back and feeling like no one could possibly understand how I felt. Now, I have a little one of my own, and I wonder how he will feel about me throughout his life. Who will he grow up to be? What will our relationship look like at 10, 16, 18, 25, 33?

I find myself looking at my Mom and Dad and wondering how it is possible that they could love me as much as I love my little boy. I know they do and that is hard. As adults, that kind of love is hard to believe. We know all of our secrets, all of our flaws, all of the reasons why our parents should like us let alone love us without limit.

The song's hook is "I had the best day with you today." Every day I have my parents in my world is the best day. They continue to teach me about life and love and politics. They continue to show me who I am and who I can be. My life is fuller for them, and my son's life is rich with them in it. So, my suggestion to you is to listen to Taylor Swift and let your parent's know about your best day with them.

http://www.metrolyrics.com/the-best-day-lyrics-taylor-swift.html

To Baptize or Not to Baptize, That is the Question

In the Catholic church, you are taught that Baptism is the sacrament that saves a child from purgatory. My Mom tells a story of how the Nuns in the hospital instructed them to sprinkle water on infants who were not baptized and at risk of death, just in case a priest could not be called in time. My father says that the Baptists believe that you should not be baptized until you are an adult as Jesus and John the Baptist never baptized children. Regardless of your religious affiliation, Baptism is a right of passage and a statement of your faith and membership into a particular church. So what is a parent to do if he/she has no interest in joining or participating in a particular church?

I have spent the past six years really searching for what I believe and how I want to live my life. This search has not led me to the door of any church even though I have including reading of various church doctrines in my attempt to discover my faith. Bill Maher once scoffed at people who say that they are not religious but spiritual, and I have thought about that statement for quite a while during this journey. What does it mean to be spiritual or faithful? What am I faithful to? What spirits do I believe in if any? I have come to a point where I cannot say what I believe or express how I feel inside. All I can say is that I "am," and I am trying every day to "be."

Last night, I read a passage from my daily meditations by Anthony DeMello that stated:
"Why do you travel so little?" a reporter asked.
"To look into the face of just one person or thing every day of the year and never fail to find something new in it-that is a greater adventure by far than any travel canoffer," said the Master
Every time I look into my son's face I see something new, something amazing, something unexpressable. I am in awe that he is here, that I had a major part in bringing him into this world, and that the effort of creating his life was a partnership with the person with whom I share all of my hopes and dreams.

Baptism is a ritual focused on the child, but I believe that it is we that need the baptism and not the child. The baby is perfect inside and out. The baby sees the world with fresh and awestruck eyes. It is we who are trying to get back to that awareness, that purity, that point where we are washed of our impurities. Maybe instead of baptisizig the baby, we should wash away our sins in an attempt to be more like the child who has just entered the world.

These are the Moments

There is nothing sweeter than a baby sleeping, cooing, or smiling. Luke smiles at me for the first time on Friday. He gas smiled before, but Friday he really focused in on my eyes and smiled, twice. My heart melted.

It is amazing when you are home with your newborn that it is your sole job to care for them, amazing and daunting. Amazing that you have the opportunity to focus solely on this little person who has just entered the world and daunting because it is the most challenging job I have ever had.

Luke has started to nap in his crib, and he will now sit in his vibrating seat with out you having to bounce it at the same time. When we first brought him home, he didn't want to be put down, so we held him non-stop. It is amazing what 5 weeks will do.

I keep reading how Mom's can tell the difference between a baby's cries. I am still a little clueless when it comes to that, But, we have managed to start getting on a 3-hour schedule of eat, wake, sleep. Sometimes it is just eat and sleep, and I am still clueless as to what a baby wants to do during the wake part. But, I hope that will all become clear as he becomes more and more aware.

He has started to coo, and I have started to mimic him, which I think he likes. They are the sweetest sounds, and I am desperately trying to capture them on video as I know some day when he is 16 and telling me that I can't possibly understand him, I can watch the video and remember a time when we communicate without words.

This morning, John and I were trying to get just a few more minutes of sleep. John had Luke under his arm cuddled next to him and Luke was fussing. I put my face down next to his and I stroked his hand. He quieted, and I'd like to think that it was because of my breath, my touch, and my smell. Something magical between him and me, something no one else could share. These are the moments I am so thankful to have.

Baby Blues

Emotions are an amazing thing. Not just emotions, but hormones. With pregnancy comes very real, very obvious hormonal changes that can manifest in exhaustion, nausea, and any other manner of physical ailments. After the baby is born, the hormones are still wreaking havoc, but the manifestation is less physical and more mental.

Pregnant women are known to get emotional, but I have never felt such a strong surge and swing of emotions as those after pregnancy. I find myself unable to talk about certain subjects without breaking down, and although I was known to get a little misty while I was pregnant, I never had so significant a breakdown as those that have come postpartum.

Exhaustion is part of the problem, but even without exhaustion, the hormone changes still rule moments of the day. The experts call it the "baby blues" and 4 out of 5 women are affected by these changes. That means anyone who experiences this phenomenon is in good company, but I am not sure that is much of a comfort at 2 in the morning when your baby is crying and you are not sure what to do to make him feel better.

That is the challenge, making a very small person who can't tell you what is wrong feel better and knowing all the while that even if he could tell you may not be able to do anything. Babies are fussy and they cry. It makes you sympathize for all of those women who "dropped their basket" and at the same time feel proud that you have managed to keep yours.

The difficulty with all of these feelings is that they are feelings, not something physical. No one can see what you are going through, and it is scary to have these very strong and difficult feelings coursing through you with no end in sight. You know what is happening, you can rationalize it, but it doesn't make it any easier or less scary.

The good news is that because you recognize these emotions for what they are, worry about them, and try to verbalize what is happening, that lump in your throat, the sad feelings, the worries, you know that you are o.k. You will get through it, and the sad moment don't outnumber the good moments.

You take a deep breath of your sleeping baby's smell and relish the moment knowing that in a blink of an eye you will be longing for these emotional days and the little one who can't say it but who loves you the most out of anyone in the entire world.

Give Me Birth

Becoming a parent changes everything. Not only does that sound like a cliché but anyone who has ever parented a child is thinking, "Well, yeah." All of a sudden everyone drives too fast, is too inconsiderate, and has too much time on their hands compared with you who can barely find a minute to shower let alone e-mail, update your Facebook page, and return phone calls letting everyone know you are not only still alive but have managed to keep your newborn alive as well with very little training.

Everyone always talks about the birth. It doesn't matter who it is, man or woman, someone with or without children. Everyone has a birth story to tell you, and that birth story is bad. The woman pushed actively for 36 hours; she was in such pain that the doctor had to give her medication used for chemo patients; the baby got stuck in the birth canal and they had to use the jaws of life. You get the picture; birth is bad. Babies on the other hand are good.

Sure, you get the adage: you need to sleep when the baby sleeps, which could lead one to the idea that those first few weeks could possibly bring with them some hardships. But this also suggests that 1. the baby is going to sleep for an extended period of time 2. the baby is going to sleep in a location that allows you to sleep while the baby is sleeping 3. you will be able to do all the stuff you need to (i.e., take a shower, eat a meal) while the baby is awake. So, you think, "All I need to do is get through the birth and then I'm home free. I'll have this sweet little baby and all will be right with the world."

Well give me birth. What no one seems to tell you while they are spouting the horrors of birth is that those first few weeks home will be the true testament to your stamina, sanity, and self-awareness. Birth, although it can come with scary and even life threatening consequences, is an event where you are the focus, you hold all of the cards, and you are the determining factor in the decisions to be made. The minute you bring home your newborn, you are out of the center and the baby is in, controlling every detail from when you will sleep, eat, shower, read, or speak to other adults.

Somewhere in the delirium that only lack of sleep can bring on, you begin to find the clarity that the labor you went through was actually a breeze compared to taking orders from a pint-sized, wobbly-headed, infant who even if he knew what he wanted cannot tell you. I believe that babies smell and look the way they do out of a survival mechanism. The look and smell lends itself to creating a mindset where the parent, against all rationale thinking that points to the fact that this new phenomenon is breaking you down, sees something that needs to be protected and nurtured regardless of what the entity is doing to the health of his/her own person.

The same goes for my little one. I have told him over and over again as he stares at me wide awake at 3:45 in the morning that it's a good thing he's so cute. It is a testament to how much love you feel for your own child that you are able to survive those weeks after your little one leaves the hospital. It is also a good insight into why there are days celebrating mother's and father's every year.

Maybe we don't tell expecting parents the truth of what is really to come after the baby is born because we don't want to scare them. We stick with the birth stories, which at least offer an ending, some happier than others. There is no ending to what our children will need from us, expect from us, take from us, and require of us. The future holds many late nights waiting up to make sure they are in by curfew, back in their dorm/apartment at college after a visit home, and hopefully experiencing the miracle of birth for themselves. The elation of birth is countered by the sudden awareness of how precious and fragile life is and how as parents we have just relinquished our hearts to a tiny person who is running wild into the future with it in his hands.

A Baby is Born

Before Luke was born, I spent a lot of time thinking about what his birth would be like, preparing for labor and delivery, and trying my best to be as healthy a possible in order to give him the best start in this world. I practiced the HypnoBabies process for at least an hour every day, listening to affirmations, relaxing to scripts via my Nano, and doing birthing exercises. I in no way thought I was an expert, but I did feel confident that I was doing all that I could to prepare for something I had never done before.

My water broke on August 17th at 5:30pm while I was walking on the treadmill. I had come home from a day of teaching, and as I was already four days past my due date (guess date), I was a little tired. I had been e-mailing back and forth with another teacher who had used the HypnoBabies process, and she had just sent me an audio file of the script "Come Out Baby!" John and I listened to the script, and then we chatted about when and how the baby would come. John suggested I go to the gym as it might make me feel better. I had been walking at least two miles around five times a week during my entire pregnancy. I had thought to skip the gym that day, but I relented, put on my gym stuff and headed out.

I was almost at two miles when the treadmill clock hit 30 minutes. I decided to push on, get the entire two in before I quit. I remember thinking, just relax, push on, and as two miles closed in, I felt this gush of wet. It wasn't a gush like it is on TV, but it was definitely more than a trickle. At first, I thought I had relaxed too much and peed my pants (Weak bladder is a symptom of pregnancy; and although I had not suffered from it, I thought being overdue may have pushed me over that edge.). But based upon the amount of wetness I saw, I quickly changed my thinking and knew what had happened. Fortunately, nothing went on the treadmill, and I was able to waddle to the bathroom with my little white gym towel placed strategically in front of me.

After I had gotten things relatively under control, I waddled out of the gym and into my car. I immediately called John saying, "Well, I guess that HypnoBabies script worked because we are having a baby. My water broke on the treadmill." John asked if I had called the doctor and amazingly that thought had not entered my mind. I hung up with him and called the doctor. My doctor was not on call, so Dr. Cox (a practice partner) called me back and told me that because my water had broken I should come on in to the hospital and be admitted. I told her that my contractions had not started, and she said that I should come in any way because of the risk of infection.

I got home and told John that I wanted to take a shower. He seemed concerned, and I said that we had plenty of time as I was not contracting and that we would be at the hospital for a very long time. John was calm, or at least he appeared calm, and he gathered all of our stuff and got it into the car. I couldn't believe my luck as I was able to call my sub (at a reasonable hour) and let him know that I would not be there the next day and John was able to call work and get them to cover for him also.

I asked John to stop at Wendy's and although he seemed concerned about getting to the hospital, he relented and I got food. He also got Subway, and we picked up cookies for the nurses at Kroger. He rolled into the hospital around 7:30pm and had to wait while they checked another woman into labor and delivery. I didn't realize how much water there was left to come out, and so while we waited I accidentally put a wet spot on the waiting room bench. A VERY kind nurse who walked by brought me back a pad to sit on. Embarrassing yes, but at the same time, it was kind of funny.

We got checked in, and they brought me directly to a room because my water had broken. I had to be wheeled in a wheelchair, which I thought was rather funny. Once inside the room, I was check by the nurse, and I have to say that it was a very unpleasant experience. Dr. Cox then came in and informed me that I had roughly 24 hours to have the baby and because I had still not started contracting on a regular basis she suggested Pictocin to get things started.

I wanted to have a natural birth so I declined and our night of walking, sitting on the exercise ball, and squatting began. I was monitored ever 45 minutes, which was fine until it got past 1am. I was very tired and thought it best to try and get some sleep. The nurse hooked me up to the monitors and a IV, and John and I tried to get some sleep.

At 5am, Dr. Cox came in and I was checked. I was dilated 4cm but I was still 0% effaced. He had not dropped, so the Pictocin was started. I labored comfortably using my techniques until 9:30am. The Pictocin was increased every 30 minutes, and although it was only increased by .5ml, I could feel the change each time. At 9:30, I was checked, ad I was at 8cm and 100% efaced, but I was done. I was exhausted and couldn't focus enough to relax through the pressure waves. The waves were also not natural as they were reinforced by the Pictocin. I know this because when the anesthesiologist went to put in the epidural, the nurse turned off the Pictocin, and I immediately felt the difference between the pressure waves with and without the drugs.

John was amazing through this entire process. He kept me company, rubbed my back, supported me through all of my decision, and held my hand while keeping me steady as I was given an epidural during pressure waves that were less than a minute apart and off the chart. I can't imagine what was going through his mind during this entire time. I sometimes think it is really unfair for men during this process as they have no opportunity to really "feel" the baby growing during the nine-month process and they must simply watch as their partner goes through the birthing process. I know they are apart of the process through support and encouragement, but it isn't the same as doing the growing and birthing.

I labored for two more hours and finally made it 10 10cm. By 3:30, I was ready to go after I had sat up for an hour in an attempt to use gravity to bring the baby down (he just wasn't interested in coming out). I pushed for almost an hour. My Dad made it past two nurses' stations with no one stopping him and came into the room while I was pushing, but I have to say at that point in time I did not care. John was right behind me holding up my back for every push, and Luke Michael Williams was born at 4:17pm August 18, 2009, weighing in at 7lbs. 13.6 oz, and with a whole head of hair.

He came out sunny-side up with the cord wrapped twice around his neck. Dr. Storck (my doctor) was surprised by the delivery as was the nurse because I had no back labor, which is typically an indicator for this position. Dr. Storck later mused that he would have shot out had he been in the correct position as I only had to push twice once his head had crowned. Because of his delivery, Luke was only placed on my chest briefly, and it felt like an eternity before he cried. His APGAR scores were 7 & 9 (for coloring).

John went out to the waiting room and told all of the Grandparents and Uncle Michael that Luke had finally joined us. He accidentally got the APGAR scores wrong, telling my Mom that they were 4, She of course freaked out and tried to get into the delivery room, but we held everyone off for a little while longer as Luke latched on for the first time, and I had my first breastfeeding experience. What a miracle.

Once we were ready as a new family, John got everyone put of the waiting room, and we celebrated our new little one.