My Birth Story, 13 1/2 months late

Hi friends,

Something I have been meaning to do for, well...13 1/2 months...is write out my birth story.  Tonight I was reading my friend Myra's story on her blog, and was inspired.  How can I remember in great detail, you ask?  I'm lucky in that I talk every night to my friend Allison on gchat...between the records of those gchats and emails sent to friends (I'm an avid emailer), I'm sure I can put together a great story.  So here we go...

Rewinding to Monday, February 22, 2010...I'm 38 weeks pregnant, almost.  I wake up, catch the train to work...work work work...sometime around 8:00 am, I walk down to McDonalds for a diet coke and to sit in a booth, call my mom, and cry about how bad I hate being pregnant and want this baby out!!!  I was soooo sick of being pregnant.  My mom later told me she KNEW I was going to have Jack that day...she could tell I hit a wall and just knew it.

2:00 pm, get a call from my husband telling me he is leaving work, his sister is picking him up, and they're driving to the hospital in St. Mary's County (two hours from us) because his dad is in the hospital.  Mr. Geraghty was in the end stages of congestive heart failure and had many other health issues so we never knew what to think when he went into the hospital.  I think to myself, I bet I go into labor today...because it seems like anytime Mr. Geraghty got sick, something major would happen. 

4:30 pm, catch the train home, go home, do whatever I used to do pre-baby.  I remember eating a lot of ice cream that day.  I had a sundae at McDonalds and around 7 pm or so, had a huge bowl of Breyers Vanilla Bean ice cream.  My favorite!  I had felt achey all day (nothing new) so I decided to take a bath (nothing new, I live for baths)...get out of the bath and feel like...hmm...did I just pee?  I know, TMI!!! (Too Much Information)...but if I'm writing my birth story, I have to really write it!

So I sit on my new recliner.  (My mother-in-law bought me and Jack a recliner as a gift...best gift ever!).  I google something like, "did my water break or did I pee?"  Something like that.  The article said to put on dry clothes, lay down in bed for 30 minutes, get back up.  If when you get up, a gush comes out, then your water broke...because what happens is, the water pools and so when you stand up, it comes out.  Unlike pee, obviously.  I stand up to go follow these directions and, gush.  My water definitely broke. 

I call the doctor and leave a message.  She calls back and asks me to tell her what happened and asks what it looks like. I said, I dont know...a little cloudy and slimey?  She said, well I don't think your water broke b/c it would be just like urine but come in anyway so I can check.  I told her my husband isn't home yet, can I wait for him?  She said, "Okay but you need to be here within an hour".  So I call my husband and tell him, "Guess what!!!  My water broke!!!"  I hear his sister, Maggie, scream in the background.  They're almost home.  No contractions starting, I'm calm but NERVOUS about labor.  My mom tells me there is nothing to be nervous about and that I'll be fine (famous last words).  By the time John gets home about 30 minutes later (it's now about 8:15 pm) contractions have started, I notice they're about 7 minutes apart.  They hurt!  John is wandering around house in boxers getting ready.  I'm like, "JOHN WHAT THE (@*&@(& are you doing!!! We gotta go!!!!!!!"  So he starts to hurry.  It's rainy.  We get in car to go.  Wish I had replaced windshield wipers when I realized they stink b/c when you're in labor, the fact you can't see out your window really REALLY is annoying!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  I remember cussing kind of a lot...more than usual anyway.

We get to Fairfax Hospital, John drops me in front so he can park.  Thank goodness my pre-registration paperwork went through.  I'm wearing grey stretchy pants...no one tells you that when your water breaks, it gushes, and continues and continues and doesn't stop.  I always thought, your water breaks, done.  No more water.  noooo.  It looks like you're peeing your pants, non-stop.  I'm at registration desk, bent over in pain...looking like I have pee running all down my pants.  DISGUSTING.  They get me up to triage FINALLY...I sit in a chair waiting...probably ruined the chair.  Sorry.  They said they're used to it.  Get into the little triage room and can't figure out the frickin robe thing.  Annoyed me badly.  John had to call a nurse in to help.  They finally get me set up with an IV of saline (which you have to have before the epidural, which I could not wait for).  Oh, by the way, its now about 9:00 pm.  I keep watching the bag of saline waiting for it to empty so they can give me the epidural.  Took ForEVER!!!!!!!!  I keep asking John, How much left now? How much left now?  What about now?  And I continued cussing a lot...F-word.  Sorry!!!!!!!!!!!  John said, "Look Lauren, everyone in this entire place knows you're waiting for you're F-ing epidural"...(thats how I kept referring to it).  Anyway, FINALLY, the saline is emptied...yesss....but they hook up another bag of saline...like, what the HECK?!?!?!  Guess what?  Anasthesiologist is tied up in an "emergency" surgery.  I don't underSTAND that.  Fairfax hospital only having one available anasthesiologist?  Makes no sense.  (I'm still angry. Will not go back to Fairfax Hospital.)  Doctor by this time had come in to check me, and I'm 100% effaced, 3 cm dialated, contractions 1-3 minutes apart.  Finally get to labor and delivery room.  Doctor is with me but I wanted my epidural and was pretty...worked up about it...VERY angry.  VERYYYY angry.  Doctor tells me I'm going to be a mother and I need to get a grip.  Nurse tells me if I don't get control I'm going to hemorage.  Oh, and for the record, I wasn't one of those ladies who is moaning and yelling in pain.  No!!!  I was MAD!  I was like, "Where the F is my epidural!"  Anasthesiologist shows up when Jack's head is pretty much hanging out.  I was like, I still want the epidural!  So the doctor says, "Let her have it."  In that tone of voice thats line, "Fine.  Whatever!  See how THIS goes!"  They told me I have to be still for ten minutes.  Then they said, four minutes.  I said I can do that.  I sit up, and realize, there is no way I can be still that long.  So the anasthesiologist runs out to the next person.  I never get my epidural.  boohoo.  Jack's head feels like fire.  Darn it!  His 99th percentile head.  8 lbs 11 oz.  After the head, the rest felt easy.  He was born at 12:42 am on Feb 23.  So I guess from the time contractions started to the time Jack was here, my labor was a quick 4 hrs, maybe 4 hrs 15 minutes.  I remember wanting to push way earlier than they wanted me to.  The nurse kept telling me to wait but eventually the doctor said, fine, just let her.  So I did.  Later, when they got me in my actual room (at 4:00 am), the nurse helps me go to the bathroom (very humbeling to have a baby) and she's like, wow you are so swollen...what happened?  I'm like, I HAD A BABY. I didn't say that.  But I didn't admit it's because I pushed before they really wanted me to. 

I remember one of my biggest fears about labor was...I heard that people like...I can't even say it...I just can't say it...but I will say, in those moments, you don't care about a thing.  Those nurses must see the worst in people.  That's my opinion.  Once I came to grips with the fact I wasn't getting the epidural, I just focused, quit being so angry, and got the job done...the nurse said, "Wow, you're like a different person now."

Once Jack was born, they rushed him off to take all the measurments, etc.  John went off taking pictures.  And I'm stuck with the doctor who is pushing the placenta out, then stitching me up!  No fair!  That's another thing I never knew about!  It doesn't end once the baby is out!

You have to stay in Labor and Delivery for two hours.  Nursing was stressful.  Oh and another thing, you know how some people cry and are so excited to see baby?  I was just flat out exhausted.  I'd been up since 6 am, it was now 12:42 am, I had worked a full day...I just wanted to sleep.  It didn't feel real and I dont think I had enough energy to feel anything...happy, sad, nothing.  Just exhaustion.  At 4 am, they got me into my room.  The charge nurse was assigned to me and the first thing she does is pull out the dry erase marker and ask me what is my idea of good customer service (or whatever the phrase is)...so she could write it on the board.  Also, what do I want help with while here?  I said, Breastfeeding.  They're really focused on their ratings which is why they ask these questions but I couldn't believe she was asking me this at 4 a.m.  I wanted to sleep!  So we finally got to sleep, then some big machine in my room was out of battery and started beeping like an alarm...so I was awake.  I pushed the button and they came to bring the machine out of my room.  6:00 am, the room above starts moving furniture.  Awake again.  I think I was only there for two nights and couldnt wait to be gone.  My day time nurse was awesome!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  Night time nurse didn't crack a smile...I was so stressed at night.

So that's my birth story :)  Does it sound negative?  Scarey?  Depressing?  Sorry!  Is it weird that I can't wait for another one???  I didn't have to reference any emails or gchats...I remembered it all!

Oh yeah, the doctor told my daytime nurse that I was "destined" not to have an epidural since I was breastfeeding and using cloth diapers.  Doctor was so nice to me later and every visit after.  When my friends had their visits, she would say, Oh yeah, Lauren was a rockstar!  She probably says that about everyone but even if not, I dont care...I am still wondering why she told me to get a grip!  haha!!!  TO give her credit, she was ON the table demonstrating how to push. 

God Thoughts, I MISS Him

Can anyone tell me about "Post-It Note Tuesday"?  What is it?  How do I do it?

Also, anyone have any idea what some of these writers workshops I'm seeing are?  I see them on some mom-blogs?

I'm going to attempt more frequent posts over the next couple of months.  I have a lot whirring through my mind lately and, it will be good to have an outlet.

This is going to be a very brief post because all of the sudden, I have a mind-block.  Of course!  But something I have been thinking about.  A friend and I were chatting on the phone.  She says, I like doing nice things, thats what friends are for!  And God gives back to us when we give to others, right?  I said, Yes!

I'm paraphrasing the above.  But I have been thinking about that conversation today and realized, God gives back to us, even when we don't give to others and even when we don't do nice things for others and even when we utterly do NOT deserve it...he loves us and will bless our lives.  Amazing, right?

I've been in the biggest sort of...RUT...with God for probably the last year!  Partially because I feel very disconnected not only from God but the church in general.  In the past, I think I have always felt connected by being involved.  Jack has been such a "high maitenance"...or should I say it positively..."SPIRITED"...child that we have issues leaving him in the nursery...he cries the entire time...(even though the ladies are great)...it's just been challenging.  It's not too hard bringing him into the service with us but there is no way I want to bring him into Sunday School.  I would love to become more involved with the POLOS group (Parents of Little Ones)...not only is it hard to jump into something new where you don't know as many people but, its hard to give up the church service to go to the Sunday School class and then figure out how to leave Jack in the nursery without him flipping out...Anyway, so yes...I feel kind of, in a huge rut.  I keep trying to figure how to pull out of it, how to become more connected to God.  I know, I can pray more, I can read the Bible more, I can become more involved at church.  But I also know God meets us where we're at sometimes...we don't have to DO more in order to be more loved or connected by God.  How come it seems hard then?  I think it comes back to this one issue for me again and again throughout my Spiritual journey.

So this has been on my mind...a lot.  And I realized, God loves me, you know?  But I'm not reaching out to him at all.  I hardly pray (John and I sometimes pray together at night when we think of it or dont fall asleep the minute our heads hit the pillow), I never read the Bible (I will occassionally read a morning devotional), we only make it to church half the time these days (so there goes the fellowship which is hugely important to me)...no matter what God is doing to reach me, I'm not doing anything to reach him.  So nothing short of a smack over the head could possibly catch my attention.  What if I just try to reach out, even just a little, maybe five minutes of prayer or five minutes of reading the Bible each day?  What would happen?  Will I feel more connected, closer to God? Like any relationship, if one person is closed off, no matter what the other person does, they're not going to get through.  Do I need to make myself more available to God?  I'll let you know how that goes!

Because the thing is, I MISS God.  I feel like, He isn't a big part of me right now.  I know he is there, but how come it always comes back to me feeling like there is some wall between me and Him?  I am focusing on this passage:

Matthew 7:7-12 (New Living Translation)

Effective Prayer

 ⁷ “Keep on asking, and you will receive what you ask for. Keep on seeking, and you will find. Keep on knocking, and the door will be opened to you. ⁸ For everyone who asks, receives. Everyone who seeks, finds. And to everyone who knocks, the door will be opened.  ⁹ “You parents—if your children ask for a loaf of bread, do you give them a stone instead? ¹⁰ Or if they ask for a fish, do you give them a snake? Of course not! ¹¹ So if you sinful people know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your heavenly Father give good gifts to those who ask him.

Catch Up

Hi Everyone,

It's been so long!  I think I even lost two followers in my absence...maybe three. 

Where do I even begin?  I guess I'll dive right into what I've been thinking about over the past few days.

Parenthood is no easy thing!  And the funny thing is, when you have a newborn/infant, you think it is sooo hard.  You keep waiting for it to get easier.  In our case, Jack had problems with chronic kidney infections and ear infections (still dealing with the ear infections), so it was really more than just constant crying...in many ways, it did get easier.  But I think all along when I've been telling people, "Don't worry, it gets easier!"  Or all along when I've been thinking to myself, this is getting easier, I really was meaning to say and think, "This is so much more fun!" 

Because it does not get easier!  It gets harder!  My friend told me that when Jack was a newborn.  She said, "Yes, its hard, and it never gets easier!"  I was mad at her for saying that.  Now, I understand.  It actually gets harder in a lot of ways.  I officially have a "toddler" and he is quite good at manipulating us.  Every chance he gets he tries out a new whine or tantrum style...I do my best not to respond to those attempts because I worry he'll put one in his back pocket to use again and think, "This one's a keeper!"  He moves CON.STANT.LY.  When Jack is awake, he is NEVER, EVER, EVER, EVER, EVER still.  He won't watch TV, he will hardly read a book (although, he is beginning to have much more interest in books), he won't just sit around with us...he is CONSTANTLY on the move.

Did I blog about the day he fell down the stairs?  Well the night before was awful, I was exhausted by all his wakings...when he woke up, we turned on the TV and he played while I watched TV.  I keep wondering, Did I forget I had a child for a couple minutes there?  B/c next thing I know, he's sprawled at the bottom of our stairs (only 6, but wood), crying.  Huge bruise on his forehead.  He had been practicing climbing stairs but had not quite mastered going down them...who knew you have to go backwards?  He didn't.  He has finally at 12 months mastered both up and down, I still have to watch him like a hawk though...because he likes to get on one stair, then start crawling across that stair length wise, and more than once I've had to catch him as he starts to fall.  He is a climber!  He is now trying to turn the knobs of the stove (gas)...he also empties my cabinets which is fine but he will freak if he can't turn the lid of a big pot to fit it out of the space.  He moves my furniture around.  I could keep going.  My point is, you can never ever relax b/c if you do, your kid may fall down the stairs and you'll feel awful.  Ironically, at his 1 yr appt, he wouldn't sit still.  Even the doctor commented on it (as he was trying to pull picture frames off the wall)...as he was crawling around, he fell to the side and sort of hit his head on the floor.  Well, Jack is always hitting his head...I don't know if its too big or what (99th percentile), but I was like, "Oh, shake it off kid!"  Well the nurse was like, oh no where did he hit?  Do you want me to bring ice? (I'm thinking, yeah RIGHT do you think he'll sit for me to put ice on his head????)  Then the doctor comes in and keeps checking it out.  I'm thinking, oh wow, you guys have nooooooooo idea.  Anyway, my friend was right, it never gets easier, but it does get a lot more fun.

We started a new daycare, it is AMMMMAAAAZING.  They threw a valentines day party for all the kids and each kid got to take home two balloons.  They threw him a birthday party (so cute, I'll post the video)...they work wit him on potty training, teach baby sign language, etc. etc.  I love it.  Jack does too.

He started walking...he took his first few steps at 10 1/2 months...at 12 months (exactly) he started really walking a lot more...and now at 12 1/2 months, he won't walk.  Whatever!  He demands to be carried...all 27 lbs 7 1/2 oz of him.

More later.