Last week started out nerve-wracking to hit the gym but it went well. Sadly life got in the way and Thursday and Friday were a bust. My intention is to do Biceps/Back Monday and Thursday, Triceps and Chest Tuesday and Friday and Shoulders/Abs on Wednesday and Saturday. I figure I can use my 5 lb weighs or just body weight at home on Saturday for that.
Sadly this weekend my food choices SUCKED. I find it's really hard to stay on point if I'm not working out. And Weekends? Well they are just hard all the way around.
Why do I have such a hard time with food? It's so damn frustrating. There are times when I feel like my self control and will power are amazing and other times? Not so much. If I'm being honest part of me also doesn't want to inconvenience anyone else like Matt.That's all me of course. It's like, what if I make us spend all this money on this particular food/menu and then I want to cheat? Then what?
Last night I did something I'm not please with-something I used to do growing up. I binged and then hid the evidence. Seriously.
I'm 37 years old and I hid the evidence of my "crime" under a bunch of egg cartons. It's like once I opened the flood gates there was no stopping me. I'm like a woman possessed. And yet the fact is that it impacts only me.
Today is Monday. I got back to the gym today. I guess that's all I can really worry about/shoot for is to keep trying. I'd be lying if I said wasn't disappointed in myself.
We're supposed to go to the beach again in Sept. I had a goal of being down to the 240's by then. It was more than doable and while it still is it's going to be much harder. Frankly none of it is going to be possible if I don't improve my eating. The frustrating part is just the idea that I'm so limited with my workouts.
Anyway, the new goal is to be somewhere in the 240's by 9/1. As of this morning that means I have basically 20lbs to lose to get "in" the 240's. I still need to get my eating under control regardless of the path I choose.
Monday, June 15, 2015
Four Little Words
Last Monday marked a new week, which meant it was time to hit the gym again. I got the ok from the ortho to do basically anything upper body right now and then eventually add on elliptical when I'm comfortable. Lower body will have to wait obviously.
I can't explain how nervous I was or really even why I was. I decided to do biceps and back and pulled together three excersizes for each so that I would have some direction. Even still when I got in the gym I froze. Callie, one of the trainers who has been an amazing support was there and we chatted a bit. She helped give me some ideas and answer some questions. Generally she just made me comfortable until I was ready to jump in. And of course I survived. :)
I left feeling accomplished but surprising frustrated. Despite having a successful workout I didn't sweat that much or feel like I worked all that hard. I tried to look at the bright side--I can't really be using the showers yet (I don't trust my balance) so not sweating is good, right?
I was talking with Callie on the way out about how frustrated I felt but that I refused to just throw my hands up and eat my way through my recovery. Then Callie said something that touched me so much I started to tear up. She said "I'm proud of you". Callie is probably 10 years younger than me and I am sure it's not something she goes around just telling people, much less people 10 years her senior. I looked at her and thanked her, telling her how much it meant before I had to turn away and take a deep breath.
I know that this is all for me and my health but it will never cease to surprise me how strongly I'm impacted by those words. I hope she knows how much I needed that.
I can't explain how nervous I was or really even why I was. I decided to do biceps and back and pulled together three excersizes for each so that I would have some direction. Even still when I got in the gym I froze. Callie, one of the trainers who has been an amazing support was there and we chatted a bit. She helped give me some ideas and answer some questions. Generally she just made me comfortable until I was ready to jump in. And of course I survived. :)
I left feeling accomplished but surprising frustrated. Despite having a successful workout I didn't sweat that much or feel like I worked all that hard. I tried to look at the bright side--I can't really be using the showers yet (I don't trust my balance) so not sweating is good, right?
I was talking with Callie on the way out about how frustrated I felt but that I refused to just throw my hands up and eat my way through my recovery. Then Callie said something that touched me so much I started to tear up. She said "I'm proud of you". Callie is probably 10 years younger than me and I am sure it's not something she goes around just telling people, much less people 10 years her senior. I looked at her and thanked her, telling her how much it meant before I had to turn away and take a deep breath.
I know that this is all for me and my health but it will never cease to surprise me how strongly I'm impacted by those words. I hope she knows how much I needed that.
Friday, June 5, 2015
Pop Goes the Tendon
Verdict is in, I popped a tendon. I'm in a boot for the next 4-6 weeks, followed by PT.
The good news?
No crutches and if I'm comfortable I can use the elliptical (and of course arms/stomach)
Bad news?
Aside from the obvious it's going to be a longer recovery. Squats etc (which I was actually enjoying) won't be happening for a while. Plus without working out I find that I have a habit of falling off the wagon easier.
I'm trying very hard to make good choices. Today I knew that we were going to Chick Fil A to celebrate Emerson's Pre K graduation so I was tempted to just throw the towel in for the day. Instead I decided to stick it out and still enjoy dinner so that was a small win. Of course, I felt HORRIBLE after dinner. Not because of my choices but physically just YUCK.
Monday I'll start back in the gym doing some lifting etc. I cannot let this get me down.
The good news?
No crutches and if I'm comfortable I can use the elliptical (and of course arms/stomach)
Bad news?
Aside from the obvious it's going to be a longer recovery. Squats etc (which I was actually enjoying) won't be happening for a while. Plus without working out I find that I have a habit of falling off the wagon easier.
I'm trying very hard to make good choices. Today I knew that we were going to Chick Fil A to celebrate Emerson's Pre K graduation so I was tempted to just throw the towel in for the day. Instead I decided to stick it out and still enjoy dinner so that was a small win. Of course, I felt HORRIBLE after dinner. Not because of my choices but physically just YUCK.
Monday I'll start back in the gym doing some lifting etc. I cannot let this get me down.
Sunday, May 31, 2015
Frankenfoot
I'm still recovering from my freakish fall on the way home from the beach. I'm looking forward to the follow up on Wednesday to get a better handle on what's going on. I really don't want to push myself too much if it's a tendon or whatever, but at the same time I don't want to draw it out longer than normal.
I already reached out to Callahan who is one of the trainers at my office gym. I want to make sure I don't fall off the wagon regardless of the healing time of my foot. If anything is going to take a while I'm hoping that Wednesday they give me a walking cast so that I can get around easier which includes in the gym. Plus working your arms too much and then trying to use crutches just doesn't seem smart.
Today (Sunday) I got back on the Paleo wagon so to speak. The only way I wasn't is in that the Almond milk Matt bought has sugar (it's vanilla) so we need to get rid of it. I do need to cut out the vast amount of fruit I'm eating too from a sugar component.
The other thing I noticed tonight was as SOON as I took my last bite of dinner I immediately started thinking about what else to eat. I wasn't hungry but damn it if I found myself thinking about food. I sneaked a lara bar which, while compliant still is beside the point. I wish I could figure out what that's about and how to curb it. I really feel like part of it is because sort of panic at the idea of not being able to eat until the morning. Given how much better I've felt eating clean (and how much weight I've lost) and yet still go back just speaks so much to the power of food.
For now it's just like when I quit smoking--one day, sometimes one hour or even one minute, at a time.
I already reached out to Callahan who is one of the trainers at my office gym. I want to make sure I don't fall off the wagon regardless of the healing time of my foot. If anything is going to take a while I'm hoping that Wednesday they give me a walking cast so that I can get around easier which includes in the gym. Plus working your arms too much and then trying to use crutches just doesn't seem smart.
Today (Sunday) I got back on the Paleo wagon so to speak. The only way I wasn't is in that the Almond milk Matt bought has sugar (it's vanilla) so we need to get rid of it. I do need to cut out the vast amount of fruit I'm eating too from a sugar component.
The other thing I noticed tonight was as SOON as I took my last bite of dinner I immediately started thinking about what else to eat. I wasn't hungry but damn it if I found myself thinking about food. I sneaked a lara bar which, while compliant still is beside the point. I wish I could figure out what that's about and how to curb it. I really feel like part of it is because sort of panic at the idea of not being able to eat until the morning. Given how much better I've felt eating clean (and how much weight I've lost) and yet still go back just speaks so much to the power of food.
For now it's just like when I quit smoking--one day, sometimes one hour or even one minute, at a time.
Thursday, May 28, 2015
What's in a Name
While I don't expect anyone else to read this blog I'm intending to write it as such because, well basically I want to remember this stuff. This started as a baby blog. Then I found another personal tumblr blog and was all "oh, I'll merge my new blogs over there" which I did, and then proceeded to accidentally delete it for all time and eternity while trying to clean things up. I love how shit comes back to bite you on the internet except when you are trying to find something and then it's all "black hole abyss".
Anywho, this started out as Kate's baby blog which I want to make sure I do NOT accidentally delete. However things have changed over here. As I write this, Emerson is 4.5 and Kate is 19 mos. At 10 mos, almost 11, Emerson was baptized (October 8, 2011). After the baptism I saw a photo of myself. I knew I was overweight but seeing it....like that? I can't really say what it was but there was something about those pictures.
Those pictures were a catalyst.
However, unlike some strike of lightening explosion of taking action, that's not what happened for me. It's been 3 years and almost 8 months. I'm still overweight so no, it wasn't some drastic difference. But also unlike some strike of lightening it wasn't a flash. You see, slowly-ever so slowly-my mind has shifted. There used to be a time that I was angry at my body, disappointed at my body.
Now I'm angry at my choices, disappointed in my choices, but not me and not by body. My body has given me two children. When I thought I could never run I ran almost a full 5K. I started PIYO and almost immediately saw how much stronger I was getting. I began my new job and immediately joined the gym and have been religiously.
Of course, as I write this I'm laid up in bed with a badly sprained ankle, but I digress.
My body is amazing. I've been studying up over the course of the last year or so about the effects of food--not on the body but on the brain. The fact that I've had amazing results eating PALEO and yet fall off the wagon so easily just shows the power of food.
So here I am. I've found that once I find some source of motivation I don't want to let it go. While my overall view has shifted, I need any momentum I can. So here I am.
Anywho, this started out as Kate's baby blog which I want to make sure I do NOT accidentally delete. However things have changed over here. As I write this, Emerson is 4.5 and Kate is 19 mos. At 10 mos, almost 11, Emerson was baptized (October 8, 2011). After the baptism I saw a photo of myself. I knew I was overweight but seeing it....like that? I can't really say what it was but there was something about those pictures.
Those pictures were a catalyst.
However, unlike some strike of lightening explosion of taking action, that's not what happened for me. It's been 3 years and almost 8 months. I'm still overweight so no, it wasn't some drastic difference. But also unlike some strike of lightening it wasn't a flash. You see, slowly-ever so slowly-my mind has shifted. There used to be a time that I was angry at my body, disappointed at my body.
Now I'm angry at my choices, disappointed in my choices, but not me and not by body. My body has given me two children. When I thought I could never run I ran almost a full 5K. I started PIYO and almost immediately saw how much stronger I was getting. I began my new job and immediately joined the gym and have been religiously.
Of course, as I write this I'm laid up in bed with a badly sprained ankle, but I digress.
My body is amazing. I've been studying up over the course of the last year or so about the effects of food--not on the body but on the brain. The fact that I've had amazing results eating PALEO and yet fall off the wagon so easily just shows the power of food.
So here I am. I've found that once I find some source of motivation I don't want to let it go. While my overall view has shifted, I need any momentum I can. So here I am.
Wednesday, January 29, 2014
Woe is me
I haven't written in this corner of the world in three months. I doubt anyone reads here and that is fine with me. I'm not sure that I want to talk about what it is I want to write about. Just like most people I find writing cathartic and frankly the main reason why I want to put it out here is to get it out of my gut and move forward. So here it goes.
There is not a shadow of a doubt that we are blessed. Let's get that straight first. People often talk about how two is a game changer but three go from man to man to zone. No I'm NOT pregnant just follow me here. The thing is, just like with a lot of stuff I find people (moms) making a bigger deal of the who "OMGAWD I have two and it's so HARD look how amazing I am". By no means am I saying it's not hard, it's just I don't think we need to admire the problem. So yea, two is harder than one-shocker-but for me what's really getting me right now is my life isn't very man on man but instead zone with just two.
Let me say before I go any further my husband is amazing. He works exceptionally hard and it's all for his family. Every day he gives it everything he has and I love that about him because aside from the obvious perks he's showing our girls the value of hard work. And not just going through the paces hard work but thoughtful, figuring out the best course of action not backing down just because you're tired kind of hard work. The man is a machine in that way. But because of that, because of the role he's in and the path his career is on he's away a lot. Not even necessarily physically but mentally. I am honestly not sure I remember the last night he came home and didn't have to work. Then there are nights like last night where he worked until 10:00pm at the office. He was proud of his input and he should be. I'm saddened that he thought I was in a bad mood when he got home b/c it was nothing more than pure exhaustion. And he IS very hands on when he can be, mostly with Emerson. Being busy and have a 3yo who's all about mommy doesn't help....and it's not like he can nurse Kate. This is more about me than him.
Aside from working a full time job I've become the primary care giver to our girls. And that's fine, it's how I want it. But yesterday, well this was a snapshot:
-Got both girls ready alone (he had to be at work early) and to school
-Worked a full day from the home office which included 3 pumping sessions for the baby
-picked both girls up from school, home, play time, made dinner, cleaned the kitchen, made dinner for tonight as well, bath for Emerson, nurse the baby, Emerson to bed (which is a whole other story lately) did all of the laundry and folded and put it away and finally worked for about 2 hours in there. Also, I *think* I fed the dog. Poor Archie.
So when he got home and I made a comment about being tired and he snarks back with a "you think you're tired I just worked a 14 hour day" type remark I was none too pleased.
Then last night the baby was up every two hours, likely b/c in my rush to try to get her to sleep so I could handle Em on my own Kate got a rushed "dinner". Then I was too tired to really do anything more than the minimum every time she woke. And in between Kate waking? Emerson was up. Hell the first time Kate woke at midnight I came crawling back into bed to have my husband ask me to turn on my computer so he could do his time. I get it but damn.
This morning Em was up by 5:30ish in our bed again for the 4th? 5th time and Kate woke hungry at 6:00am. Matt had a early meeting. It's a standing meeting every wed and I get it, fine. But that doesn't make it easier. I'm feeding Kate and entertaining Emerson when the dog starts to whine to go out. This is the point that I find myself saying "I need help". I don't even expect an answer--at this point I am just getting it out into the universe, asking for God. I've even taken to saying a "Hail Mary" in order to calm myself before I loose my temper at Emerson ----as an aside Friday night when I was crazy sleep deprived I snapped at Matt in the car and Em stated crying because "the way you're talking to daddy scares me" Mother of the Year here.--Anyway much to my surprise I hear Matt and realize he's out of the shower and laying on the couch with his IPad. I get it, it's his thing in the morning. But I'm with two kids and a whiney dog and frankly I said Hail Mary right about there.
After I take the dog out I let Matt know I'm going to jump in the shower. At this point I just need a moment. I find myself entirely jealous that every morning he gets to shower in peace, get dressed in peace and leave the house as he pleases while I manage the girls. So I decide to take his advice and take a moment. That's when he snaps about having to leave in 20 mins. I get it, my showers are never long but I find myself yelling at him that I just need a minute. That I feel like I'm doing it all on my own and getting no help from him. Surprisingly, he seems to agree. Not that it was all happy go lucky but still. The shower helped and I was able to refocus in a more positive way but it occurs to me, I'm not man on man lately, I'm zone. I'm zone and I'm all alone. It's no damn wonder I'm so tired.
I'm sure Matt thinks I don't tell him how much I appreciate his hard work or that I'm proud of him enough. I certainly know I don't hear it enough from him. Right now I cannot get past the feeling like we're just treading water to get to....what? I'm not even sure. I know Emerson's sleep issues are a phase and that Kate will (God willing) sleep again but I still can't shake the thought of ....to where? to What? To the next proposal? Till summer? Emerson refuses to go anywhere without me. Even this morning she wouldn't go downstairs with Matt for fear of me leaving her. I am positive that Kate's arrival hasn't helped that matter though this was always her to some degree. I know it hurts Matt too.
I'm Zone. I'm doing the best I can. I'm not sure it's good enough but it's going to have to be. Mostly I'd just like someone to acknowledge. I'd just like to not be so angry. I'd just like to do a good job.
There is not a shadow of a doubt that we are blessed. Let's get that straight first. People often talk about how two is a game changer but three go from man to man to zone. No I'm NOT pregnant just follow me here. The thing is, just like with a lot of stuff I find people (moms) making a bigger deal of the who "OMGAWD I have two and it's so HARD look how amazing I am". By no means am I saying it's not hard, it's just I don't think we need to admire the problem. So yea, two is harder than one-shocker-but for me what's really getting me right now is my life isn't very man on man but instead zone with just two.
Let me say before I go any further my husband is amazing. He works exceptionally hard and it's all for his family. Every day he gives it everything he has and I love that about him because aside from the obvious perks he's showing our girls the value of hard work. And not just going through the paces hard work but thoughtful, figuring out the best course of action not backing down just because you're tired kind of hard work. The man is a machine in that way. But because of that, because of the role he's in and the path his career is on he's away a lot. Not even necessarily physically but mentally. I am honestly not sure I remember the last night he came home and didn't have to work. Then there are nights like last night where he worked until 10:00pm at the office. He was proud of his input and he should be. I'm saddened that he thought I was in a bad mood when he got home b/c it was nothing more than pure exhaustion. And he IS very hands on when he can be, mostly with Emerson. Being busy and have a 3yo who's all about mommy doesn't help....and it's not like he can nurse Kate. This is more about me than him.
Aside from working a full time job I've become the primary care giver to our girls. And that's fine, it's how I want it. But yesterday, well this was a snapshot:
-Got both girls ready alone (he had to be at work early) and to school
-Worked a full day from the home office which included 3 pumping sessions for the baby
-picked both girls up from school, home, play time, made dinner, cleaned the kitchen, made dinner for tonight as well, bath for Emerson, nurse the baby, Emerson to bed (which is a whole other story lately) did all of the laundry and folded and put it away and finally worked for about 2 hours in there. Also, I *think* I fed the dog. Poor Archie.
So when he got home and I made a comment about being tired and he snarks back with a "you think you're tired I just worked a 14 hour day" type remark I was none too pleased.
Then last night the baby was up every two hours, likely b/c in my rush to try to get her to sleep so I could handle Em on my own Kate got a rushed "dinner". Then I was too tired to really do anything more than the minimum every time she woke. And in between Kate waking? Emerson was up. Hell the first time Kate woke at midnight I came crawling back into bed to have my husband ask me to turn on my computer so he could do his time. I get it but damn.
This morning Em was up by 5:30ish in our bed again for the 4th? 5th time and Kate woke hungry at 6:00am. Matt had a early meeting. It's a standing meeting every wed and I get it, fine. But that doesn't make it easier. I'm feeding Kate and entertaining Emerson when the dog starts to whine to go out. This is the point that I find myself saying "I need help". I don't even expect an answer--at this point I am just getting it out into the universe, asking for God. I've even taken to saying a "Hail Mary" in order to calm myself before I loose my temper at Emerson ----as an aside Friday night when I was crazy sleep deprived I snapped at Matt in the car and Em stated crying because "the way you're talking to daddy scares me" Mother of the Year here.--Anyway much to my surprise I hear Matt and realize he's out of the shower and laying on the couch with his IPad. I get it, it's his thing in the morning. But I'm with two kids and a whiney dog and frankly I said Hail Mary right about there.
After I take the dog out I let Matt know I'm going to jump in the shower. At this point I just need a moment. I find myself entirely jealous that every morning he gets to shower in peace, get dressed in peace and leave the house as he pleases while I manage the girls. So I decide to take his advice and take a moment. That's when he snaps about having to leave in 20 mins. I get it, my showers are never long but I find myself yelling at him that I just need a minute. That I feel like I'm doing it all on my own and getting no help from him. Surprisingly, he seems to agree. Not that it was all happy go lucky but still. The shower helped and I was able to refocus in a more positive way but it occurs to me, I'm not man on man lately, I'm zone. I'm zone and I'm all alone. It's no damn wonder I'm so tired.
I'm sure Matt thinks I don't tell him how much I appreciate his hard work or that I'm proud of him enough. I certainly know I don't hear it enough from him. Right now I cannot get past the feeling like we're just treading water to get to....what? I'm not even sure. I know Emerson's sleep issues are a phase and that Kate will (God willing) sleep again but I still can't shake the thought of ....to where? to What? To the next proposal? Till summer? Emerson refuses to go anywhere without me. Even this morning she wouldn't go downstairs with Matt for fear of me leaving her. I am positive that Kate's arrival hasn't helped that matter though this was always her to some degree. I know it hurts Matt too.
I'm Zone. I'm doing the best I can. I'm not sure it's good enough but it's going to have to be. Mostly I'd just like someone to acknowledge. I'd just like to not be so angry. I'd just like to do a good job.
Thursday, October 10, 2013
40 weeks
I've wanted to write this post and subsequently avoiding it. Where to start...
We welcomed Katherine Kearney Dossett into our family on Thursday October 3, 2013 at 6:13pm. She was 8lbs and 3 oz and 22 1/4 inches long. The irony is of course that we thought Thursday was too soon.
Wednesday night I didn't feel good but frankly I thought I just had too much milk. I was in a lot of discomfort but I was also almost 10 months pregnant so I didn't think much of it. I awoke several times overnight which, even pregnant, isn't like me. I knew something was up but didn't know what.
Thursday morning there was some....action shall we say. I was going to try to go into the office to tie up some loose ends but thanks to said action I was a little nervous. Shortly before I was going to leave more stuff happened so I called the doctor. Long story short they wanted me to come in to be checked out. Being 40 mins from the hospital I wasn't about to take chances. I called Matt and he was going to meet me at the doctor. I was uncomfortable but again, no contractions so I decided to drive myself. I was also starving and I knew that if they did send me to L&D I'd better get something to eat first. I headed to McDonalds and remember it was 10:30am b/c they were still serving breakfast.
I'll never forget as I was leaving the house. I was talking to myself trying to keep calm. Everything was in my car except the camera, my make-up and the ipad. I grabbed all of that but not a change of clothes for Matt.
I really thought that the doctor would tell me I was progressing but not enough and to be on alert and then come back Friday to be rechecked. Dr. Smith saw me and she was asking me about contractions. I explained my discomfort but that I hadn't really had any "contractions" but then again I didn't really know what they felt like since I never really had them with Emerson wo an Epidural. I remember her stating that it was obvious I was uncomfortable and she thought I was probably having some and just not realizing. I had been 2 cm Monday and when Dr. Smith checked me I was 4. So I asked "what's the plan?" expecting to be sent home. Her response was "well you're going to go over to the hospital and have a baby"....WHAA?
Fast forward I was checked in and avoided the triage thanks to Dr. Smith. She came over for a procedure and at 12:30pm broke my water. There was some mecconium in my fluid but they weren't very worried. Apparently it was seriously diluted. None the less they warned me that they would have NICU in the room just to check her out. Frankly I wasn't that worried about it, I knew I was in really good hands.
The epidural sucked, but I survived. Most of it was in my mind though I will say that that anesthesiologist is ROUGH. I had two bolus' of more meds. At one point the nurse came in to check me --Dr. Smith had called to say that if I hadn't progressed she wanted me on pitocin and surprise surprise, I was at 9.
I was able to hold out until Dr. Smith finished up with her last patient of the day. I will say it was absolutely polar opposite of my experience with Emerson. With Em I had to push and didn't wait for the doctor. With KK they had me try to push just to see but I was in no way feeling urgent.
Long story short, when her head started to emerge we found that her cord was wrapped around her neck twice and over her shoulder. Her face was blue. Dr. Smith asked if I could push again--I told her to tell me what to do and I'd do it. Apparently the cord was so tight they couldn't cut it so I just had to deliver her.
They had Matt cut the cord very quickly and then she was whisked over to the warmer with NICU. They had her there for 20 min. Turns out that she didn't cry but mostly b/c she was just hanging out. Finally the NICU team left very anticlimactically. All was well.
Though I didn't take a photo Monday the one above is from Sat, 2 days postpartum. We still don't know what we're calling her for sure. Emerson has been amazing. Kate is amazing. Matt is amazing.
Me? Well not so much.
Somehow I naively thought that I'd miss the whole baby blues thing. Don't ask me why....I guess b/c I was on meds from Emerson, or that I knew what to expect....but sure enough they hit. I called the doctor pretty quickly thereafter--I didn't want to mess around. I've been feeling better day by day but I'm trying, TRYING, not to feel like I have to rush anything.
But my girls? Oh my girls how I love them. And my amazing husband. So while I sort through all this shit I'm reminded how fortunate I am with these three wonderful beings. Here's to holding on.
We welcomed Katherine Kearney Dossett into our family on Thursday October 3, 2013 at 6:13pm. She was 8lbs and 3 oz and 22 1/4 inches long. The irony is of course that we thought Thursday was too soon.
Wednesday night I didn't feel good but frankly I thought I just had too much milk. I was in a lot of discomfort but I was also almost 10 months pregnant so I didn't think much of it. I awoke several times overnight which, even pregnant, isn't like me. I knew something was up but didn't know what.
Thursday morning there was some....action shall we say. I was going to try to go into the office to tie up some loose ends but thanks to said action I was a little nervous. Shortly before I was going to leave more stuff happened so I called the doctor. Long story short they wanted me to come in to be checked out. Being 40 mins from the hospital I wasn't about to take chances. I called Matt and he was going to meet me at the doctor. I was uncomfortable but again, no contractions so I decided to drive myself. I was also starving and I knew that if they did send me to L&D I'd better get something to eat first. I headed to McDonalds and remember it was 10:30am b/c they were still serving breakfast.
I'll never forget as I was leaving the house. I was talking to myself trying to keep calm. Everything was in my car except the camera, my make-up and the ipad. I grabbed all of that but not a change of clothes for Matt.
I really thought that the doctor would tell me I was progressing but not enough and to be on alert and then come back Friday to be rechecked. Dr. Smith saw me and she was asking me about contractions. I explained my discomfort but that I hadn't really had any "contractions" but then again I didn't really know what they felt like since I never really had them with Emerson wo an Epidural. I remember her stating that it was obvious I was uncomfortable and she thought I was probably having some and just not realizing. I had been 2 cm Monday and when Dr. Smith checked me I was 4. So I asked "what's the plan?" expecting to be sent home. Her response was "well you're going to go over to the hospital and have a baby"....WHAA?
Fast forward I was checked in and avoided the triage thanks to Dr. Smith. She came over for a procedure and at 12:30pm broke my water. There was some mecconium in my fluid but they weren't very worried. Apparently it was seriously diluted. None the less they warned me that they would have NICU in the room just to check her out. Frankly I wasn't that worried about it, I knew I was in really good hands.
The epidural sucked, but I survived. Most of it was in my mind though I will say that that anesthesiologist is ROUGH. I had two bolus' of more meds. At one point the nurse came in to check me --Dr. Smith had called to say that if I hadn't progressed she wanted me on pitocin and surprise surprise, I was at 9.
I was able to hold out until Dr. Smith finished up with her last patient of the day. I will say it was absolutely polar opposite of my experience with Emerson. With Em I had to push and didn't wait for the doctor. With KK they had me try to push just to see but I was in no way feeling urgent.
Long story short, when her head started to emerge we found that her cord was wrapped around her neck twice and over her shoulder. Her face was blue. Dr. Smith asked if I could push again--I told her to tell me what to do and I'd do it. Apparently the cord was so tight they couldn't cut it so I just had to deliver her.
They had Matt cut the cord very quickly and then she was whisked over to the warmer with NICU. They had her there for 20 min. Turns out that she didn't cry but mostly b/c she was just hanging out. Finally the NICU team left very anticlimactically. All was well.
.JPG) |
| 2 days postpartum |
Though I didn't take a photo Monday the one above is from Sat, 2 days postpartum. We still don't know what we're calling her for sure. Emerson has been amazing. Kate is amazing. Matt is amazing.
Me? Well not so much.
Somehow I naively thought that I'd miss the whole baby blues thing. Don't ask me why....I guess b/c I was on meds from Emerson, or that I knew what to expect....but sure enough they hit. I called the doctor pretty quickly thereafter--I didn't want to mess around. I've been feeling better day by day but I'm trying, TRYING, not to feel like I have to rush anything.
But my girls? Oh my girls how I love them. And my amazing husband. So while I sort through all this shit I'm reminded how fortunate I am with these three wonderful beings. Here's to holding on.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)