Wednesday, August 29, 2012

Elise's Birth Story

I have a confession to make...  
I have never written a birth story and I have three children.   Maybe because I still remember the way I would want to melt out of a room every time my aunt's and mom would share their stories.  Maybe because I have controlled planned c-sections and they aren't very surprising.  Maybe because I find the experience so personal that it is impossible to put into the proper words.  Maybe because Jara was born before my blog and since I never documented her  birth I felt guilty telling Jack and Elise's story.  Whatever the reason, I am now ready to write Elise's birth story and if it doesn't do me in, I will write the other two as well, because even though it has been almost six years the memory of Jara's arrival it is still very clear in my memory.  On to Elise, since it has only taken me about a year to the day to do this...

I know the day my children will be born.  I even know the hour, but not the minute, no one is that accurate, however having scheduled c-sections helps.  Jara was breech and my doctor was short on options and big on time-saving, for her, the doctor, not me and the consecutive babies I would have afterwards.  Hence the c-sections.  Curse that woman.

The day before Elise's debut I drove myself to the hospital and visited with nurses, had a loooong talk with the anesthesiologist and subjected myself to  miles of paperwork and blood work.  It makes for less stress on the big day.  The night before I find sleep impossible.  Worry over what you know is coming, joy at the thought of a precious baby, fear.  In short, all of the emotions you can think up in the dark of night when you are about to undergo a life-changing event.  Jed and I prayed, he prayed for my comfort and a special bond between the baby and I.  Perfect words of peace.  Elise was scheduled to be delivered at 8am, in order to be ready we needed to be to the hospital by 6:30.  After three attempts to insert my IV and a blown out vein I remember looking out of the hospital window on the second floor and plotting my escape.  At the time it seemed perfectly logical to drag Jed out of that hospital and into the desert up the mesa canyon to have my baby in the wild, no doctors, no hospitals, no c-sections, nothing but coyotes and the person responsible for the baby.  My fear became so great it led to chihuahua like shaking.  Uncontrollable shaking.  I try to focus, meditate, go to my happy place, all of that but its impossible with the questions, procedures and nasty, bitter, vile shot of citric acid.  Next comes the OR.  Sterile and cold.  More shaking.  Being strapped to a table in a T form is not comforting but it does help the shaking.  When your arms are velcro'd down they can't shake as hard.  Everything happened very fast with Elise.  As soon as I was thoroughly numb and the blue curtain was in place inches from my face I was quickly filleted.  There is no other way to describe it.   Filleted like a fish.  Even though I am petrified beyond belief at this point and during the whole procedure there was never pain.  I am grateful for a doctor that ensured my best care and an anesthesiologist who was very calming and kind.  I knew Elise was out when I heard her cry and heard the excitement of Jed and the doctors.  Nothing is better than hearing, "ooo she's a big healthy one."  Once she was out, they wisked her to a table behind and to the right of me, I'm craning my neck straining against my straps to peek at her.  Lots of hair and yes even from my limited view I could tell she was beautiful.  The nurses wrap her and bring her to me.  I'm unleashed long enough to pet her and rub cheeks with her.  Jed gets her for a moment and then they take her away.  Which I hate, I want to hold my precious new baby NOW not wait to be put back together.  With my other two children I remember nothing once the baby was out and I had been able to pet them, with Elise I stayed with it and remember everything such as impatiently asking the doctor if he was done yet, poor man.  It took 20-30 minutes to re-do 5 minutes worth of damage.  Lots of layers to stitch up.  Once released from the OR I was taken to my recovery room.  Jed had arranged for flowers to be brought in and they were waiting for me, greeting me.  Then the moment I had been anticipating for nine months, my baby Elise was placed in my arms and laid on my chest.  Perfect.  I cuddled her till she squirmed and then she professionaly fed for 20 minutes.  Once her appetite had been attended to,she was perfectly willing to allow me to examine her.  I had to look over every little digit and limb.  Elise was very kind to let me wiggle her toes and num her chubby cheeks.  Since she was breech, she had been lying on her right cheek with her head wedged in between my ribs, because of this her right cheek wasn't as plump as her left for months.  Of course it was endearing all the same.  I'm pretty sure at the time if she would have been born with a tail I would have thought it was adorable, I am thoroughly drugged post surgery.  Anyway, after the once over, I plopped her on her tummy snuggled up into my neck and we promptly dozed off leaving Jed in charge.  His job is to make sure everyone stays breathing and I don't fall so deeply asleep I drop the baby.  He is a good caretaker.  I can rest easily knowing he is watching over us.  
My recovery with Elise was harder and hotter (record breaking August heat).  I slept in the recliner for 6 days because my incision didn't allow for sleeping flat or on my side, and certainly not on my stomach.  I bruised deep purple and yellow and now have a slight "shelf" on one side.  Put back together one too many times I guess.  My body also scars easily and I have a rope like laceration/scar to remind me of my experiences.  I'm thinking a tattoo of "J.J.E was here" would go nice. So classy.  However, the physical effects are insignificant.  Every mom knows that.
Jed's blessing has provided a bond between Elise and I that is very strong.  I have relished her  first year. There are almost 3 years between Jack and Elise and it was so lovely to have a newborn again.  The third time is a charm, you are not as scared as the first and not as overwhelmed as you are when you have two. Two doesn't sound like a big number until you think about how two is DOUBLE one.  By three you are past the scared and overwhelmed stage, you know what's coming and you have gotten in plenty of experimenting.  You are just crazy and dog tired.  Minor details.  Elise gets away with all kinds of naughtiness already and I just can't help it.  You want to pull my hair and scream, okay baby do whatever you want, you are just so precious and cute and you are growing so fast and you will never will be little again so I will never be angry with you.  Heaven help us I sound like a grandma.


Happy 1st Year Elise!





Monday, August 27, 2012

Back to School

 My firstborn is off to school.  What a day.  I sniffed all my tears away last night and tossed and turned unable to sleep, although it could have been due to the 2 hour afternoon nap, but today I was brave and so was Jara.  My little kindergartner.  I have a school child.  She took to school like a duck to water.  Thank goodness because I'm pretty sure if she would have had a melt-down I would have carried her off of that playground, moved to the hills, set up my yurt and commenced home-schooling.   Truth be told, I think Jed was keeping his eye on me more than Jara, she isn't as shifty.  However, a few hugs goodbye and that was that, she was too busy playing with friends to care that she was growing up and entering the dawn of a new age.  On the way home she even asked if she could drive "because she is big now."  No driving. Ever.  Kindergarten acceptance was bad enough I can't even think what 16 will do to me.
Me and my precious little pet
Jara and Abby going to kindergarten together just like their daddy's

The best picture I could get of her in the sun.

Yay for school!  Tomorrow we brave the bus and Jack's preschool.  duhnduhnduhnnnn

Friday, August 24, 2012

And I Quote...

I've been writing down Jack and Jara, mostly Jack, quotes on post-it notes all summer.  Here are a few.  I love child logic.

On preparing to leave for vacation
Jack:  "Let's go before Jara wakes up...she can ride her bike."

While combing through Jed's hair
Jack: "You are getting lots of white hairs you must be getting old."

While having arts and crafts daddy time.   I love listening in on their conversations.
Jara:  We are making purses
Jed:  Mine is a satchel
Jara:  Its a purse...whats a satchel?
Jed:  A man bag
Jara:  Its a purse...How bout we call it a wallet?
Jack:  Jara I am so proud of you.  You are a great artist.

While sitting down to dinner
Jack:  What is this?
Jara: It has bacccccon in it. (psst mom I told him that so he would like it.)
Jack:  You know how I feeeeeel about BACON!!!


Tuesday, August 7, 2012

And 1

My birthday came and went.  Last year I was so philosphical and optimistic.  After the last three years of dreading my end of twenty birthdays it was relieving to just get the big 3-0 over.  However, now that I am 30-something I'm feeling the full effect.  When my sister told everyone at zumba how old I was I thought, "me, I'm that number, I'm that lady, goodness I really am a ma'am."  (Blast that Maverik shop boy.)  So now what?  I'll tell you what, things are creeping up and all in the last couple weeks since that magical number.
#1 I'm losing my memory: I'm surprised I can remember to tell you, it's that bad.  I'm forgetting events and not just forgetting but completly blanking out and then in shock when someone has to TELL me I forgot my brother-in-laws bday party or that my gas tank is on the right side and has been for 3 months. Every time I pull up to get gas I have to cancel the initial transaction.
#2 My nose is showing signs of age.  I can't talk about it.  Every year around my birthday I buy my yearly allotment of makeup.  Coincidence?  I think not.
#3 I have two little age spots on my legs creeping up and all those years of scoffing at support hosiery are showing the results too.
#4 I bought myself hand-weights for my birthday 3 pounders, yeah I'm so buff  and my friends are getting me tupperware and I luvv it.  Jed gave me Amazon Prime so I can watch Downton Abbey on Friday nights to my little hearts content.  Wild, thats me.
#5  I have developed a true phobia.  Chiroptophobia-fear of bats.  I've always disliked the leathery-winged, beady-eyed little creatures but my dislike has escalated into a true phobia.  Even now writing about it is sending shivers up my spine.  The little blood-suckers had me in a cold-sweat, hiding behind two umbrellas crying for mercy.  I am a big girl.  I am 31.  Bats do not need to send me into a tizzy.


Anyway-

On the positive side it was a wonderful week.  I don't celebrate my birthday in one day, it takes up the week.  I play that card as long as I can, "but Jed it's my birthday week..." Saturday Jed treated me to a day on the town with only two of the little darlin's and  my birthday slice of cake was purchased, all seven chocolatey layers of it.  I needed a layer for every day of my birthday week.  Sunday we celebrated the original Mrs. Wheeler's bday.  Tuesday my  sister-in-law (also a Mrs. Wheeler) why am I rambling like this, let me crash her pool with kids in tow.  We sipped margaritas (non-alcoholic because I know you were wondering) and watched the kids happily splash.  Wednesday, the actual day of glory, I had a little luncheon with my mom and sister.  We thought about going out for lunch but the thought of 5 kids in a restaurant is too much work on one's birthday.  Jed came home at noon and we escaped to the lake.  There is never lack of water fun on your birthday when it is 115* outside.  I even wake-boarded in the wind (sounds so poetical doesn't it?) However, when you have to give up because the wave bumps are hurting your old lady ankles  it serves as an another cruel reminder of old age.  Thursday was the happy birthday zumba night.  Ashley dedicates her "i am good" at zumba moves to me, a special present in and of itself. Friday was girls night at the Heff (hugh)grotto, turned bat cave.  It's really a waterfall in the pool with an awesome cave, Ashley dubbed it the "Heff grotto" because well couldn't you see the old geezer chillin' in his pool cave behind a waterfall?  Anyway, Wendy (of the pool and margaritas) was kind enough to host and as we all sat by the cooling water and reminisced about our domestic endeavors and the new pockets we were going to sew on our linens.  Sounds so innocent, it's not really.  I was working myself into a fit over the bats.  My friends were kind enough to suggest porch sitting and pretended like it wasn't a million degrees and they were comfy just so I wouldn't pass out from fear of those rabie-inducing little beasties.  True friends.  Katie even drove out from 'Vegas and brought me dreamy guilt-free cake.  Thank you all.   Minus the bats I think we should pool party every week, okay maybe every month.

Happy Birthday to ME!

And if none of this makes sense to you
1)you don't know me well
2)i am writing one big run-on-mind-wandering-sentence
or
3)old age has set in and i am officially crazy

A little beach photo of my birthday party with Jed and the kids.