Cora's Birth

Cora's birth was such an amazing experience.  It was so different than Phillip's and I'm so thankful that I was able to experience it. I had Phillip unmedicated at AF hospital.  Aside from the details of the actual labor and delivery, I hated the hospital. I hated all the paperwork we had to go over when we got there even though I was in active labor, hating life, and even though we had pre registered days earlier just to avoid such a thing.  I hated the nurse telling Felipe that I couldn't eat every time he offered me a snack.  I hated having to get out of the tub when I was ready to push. I hated that their idea of delayed cord clamping was only waiting a minute or two.  I hated that they took my baby away from me to bathe and assess in another room, left me in the delivery room telling me that somebody would show me to our new room soon, and then charging us for every 15 minutes I spent there waiting for someone to come get me.  I hated that they came into our room every hour that night and woke us up each time.  I hated the feeling that they were "letting" me labor the way I wanted to.

I had been on the fence about a hospital birth before Phillip was born but for whatever reason decided on the hospital route.  When I was pregnant again we decided to tour birthing centers. The first trimester of this new pregnancy was basically spent in panic. I did not want to give birth again.  Phillip's birth was so hard and painful and I felt like it was just something that I poorly endured. But I also didn't want drugs or a hospital birth so....I just didn't think about it.

We took a tour of Birthing Your Way in Lehi and felt good about it. I knew someone who had given birth there and liked it and we had also taken a class there when I was pregnant with Phillip so we had at least a little experience with them. I contacted Carrie, our doula from Phillip's birth, and asked if she'd help us with this one, too. Then we were good to go and waited for the baby to be born.

Around 33 weeks I started having contractions.  They started getting stronger and more frequent so we went in for a stress test. They gave me some stuff to calm things down, which it did, and then we just kept an eye on it.  I secretly hoped that something minor would go wrong so I'd have to go to the hospital and having an epidural.  My heart of hearts didn't really want that but the pain and fear part of my heart certainly did.

I started scouring the internet for positive birth stories to read, and I found some great ones! They really helped me start feeling pumped and capable.  I re-read Ina May Gaskin's book and plastered my mirror with affirmations.  There were two things that I thought about a lot that really helped me mentally prepare for Cora's birth.  They both came from birth stories I read.  One mother said that if you're going to jump off a cliff just do it.  Don't spend time worrying about it. And I know that's silly but it really helped me.  I was going to do this and there was no point stressing over it.  The second mother said that the laboring mother sets the mood.  And that really hit me.  Phillip's birth was traumatic for me.  It was hard and painful and I was on the verge of breaking down the whole time.  I didn't want Cora's birth to be like that.  I knew it would be work but I also wanted maybe not so much to enjoy the experience (I felt that was too much to hope for) but I did want it to be a positive experience.

Wednesday morning, September 16, I woke up a little after six and thought I might be having contractions.  I was 41+2 and soooo ready to not be pregnant anymore. My friend (due a couple weeks after me) had gone into labor the night before and I went to bed in a bit of an angry jealous fit.  Maybe that's what did it! Anyways, I just laid in bed that morning and had a few contractions.  I knew our baby would be coming soon and that things would get busy so I just took the time to be still.  I really enjoyed being the only one who knew what was happening.  It was just me and my body, sharing this little secret. Felipe woke up around 7 and started getting ready for work.  I told him that I was pretty sure I was in labor and he made arrangements to have his work meetings for the day covered/cancelled.

I got up and rechecked everything to be sure we were packed and ready to go and started making breakfast for me and Phillip (oatmeal).  My contractions started getting stronger and got to the point where I had to drop everything and just concentrate each time one came on.  Felipe followed me around this whole time, timing contractions and telling me I really ought to call the midwives and Carrie.  I was putting that all off for as long as I could because I wanted to labor at home as long as possible and not spend a bunch of time at the birthing center waiting for the baby to be born.  By the time breakfast was ready I didn't feel like eating and just wanted to soak in the shower. I called Katelyn to let her know I was in labor and would be dropping Phillip off in a little bit.  Felipe had to finish the call because I had a contraction mid conversation. Then I called the midwife on call and let her know what was going on and texted Carrie to tell her I was going to shower and then would meet her at the birthing center.  Felipe woke up Phillip and got him ready while I showered. It's a funny thing but squatting got me through each contraction.  I must have done a million squats that morning.  I kept doing that in the shower. I'd enjoy the water, squat through a contraction, and then keep on showering.  It was heaven in there! I thought labor was going great.  My contractions weren't pain so much as they were power.  With Phillip each contraction knocked me over and took me down.  With Cora I kind of fused with each contraction and just let the power envelop me.  It's hard to explain.  But I just let it happen.  I didn't fight it and I didn't fear it. I knew each contraction was bringing me my baby and I also think squatting helped direct the power inside of me.  While I was showering I reached inside of me and thought I could feel the baby's head. It may or may not have been her (I don't know what else it would have been) but in any case it made me think it was time to get out of the shower and get a move on.

Felipe was really anxious for us to get to the birthing center but I really just wanted to take things slow and max out our time at home. I thought we'd have hours and hours. After my shower my contraction were so close together and very draining.  I tried to dress between contractions but didn't have the energy. I needed that time to just recover.  Felipe kept trying to (kindly) hurry me and I tried to explain I just couldn't.  So he ended up dressing me ha.

We left the house a little after 8:30. There was no way I was sitting properly in the front seat of our car and ended up hugging the seat with my butt in the air, powering through each contraction. Felipe drove like a (safe) maniac and we made it to Katelyn's house in record time.  I was in the zone, just focusing on keeping things together.  I almost lost it a few times between Katelyn's house and the birthing center, where I would start to whimper and break down.  Felipe would remind me that I could absolutely do this and that it would be fantastic.  Before labor had started I thought a lot about how I wanted this birth to go and tried to pinpoint what exactly scared me about it.  I thought it would help me to have Felipe tell me that I was safe and that I was loved, so when labor actually started and I needed encouragement, that's what I asked him to repeat to me over and over. I love who Felipe and I become when I'm giving birth.  We are a fantastic team and there's no other experience we could share that would give us this dimension of love and respect for each other. It's amazing to feel the power of childbirth course through your body and to know, at the same time, that you are so safe and so loved.

Carrie met us in the parking lot of the birthing center (along with a nurse, I think) and we all went upstairs to the birthing room.  It was about 9 by now and the morning light was shinning through the window.  The room was so peaceful and cozy.  Some delicious smelling oil was being diffused and there was soft music playing in the background (which was nice but quickly replaced by Mumford and Sons-soul music!).  The tub was full and warm and just waiting for me to slip in.  I wasn't feeling any fear or apprehension.  I was pumped! I was ready to go and ready to party and I remembered that the birthing mother sets the mood. I was so happy and just loved everyone that was there. I practically tore off all my clothes and asked them to check me and was so pleasantly surprised to find that I was already at a 9.  Throughout my pregnancy I imagined I'd want to go right into the tub first thing but when the time came I was happy to just labor standing up for a while. I squatted my life away for a little bit with Carrie and Felipe at my side. Carrie reminded me to just go ahead and push if I felt pushy and I admitted that I didn't want to push because I hadn't pooped yet that day.  Ain't nobody got time for public pooping! She reassured me that of course nobody cared about that, not even a big deal. I got into the tub and had a few more contractions.  I didn't really make a conscious decision to start talking to my baby, but it happened.  I just started telling her how much she was loved and how excited we were to see her and how lucky she was and encouraging her to come out.  I also really wanted to just kiss Felipe between contractions.  This was so much better than Phillip's birth.  When I think of Phillip's birth I see it in tones of gray and in darkness and cold and fear.  When I think of Cora's birth I smile and bask in it and it feels like how the sun feels on your arms.

When I was in the tub I was surrounded on all sides by people who loved me. I felt so much love. It was so peaceful and I'd even say sacred.  I'd close my eyes during each contraction and push against the sides of the tub (I was on all fours) and then growl/moo my heart out.  Then I'd open my eyes and pull Felipe to me and kiss him.  I wanted more of a soul kiss and he would just go for the little peck, so that was a little off putting to me but I never did vocalize that.  There was no room for talking! I started pushing and pushing and pushing and then started wondering if maybe my eyeballs were going to burst out of my head and maybe I would in fact push out my entire insides.  There were a couple of times where I would say I couldn't do it anymore and then the loving people at my side would tell me that yes I could and that I was doing so well.  And I would dig deep inside and gather all the strength and keep going.  One more contraction.  One more push.  Somebody touched me and told me to push their fingers out.  So I concentrated all my pushing.  I called muscles to the forefront that I didn't even know I had. My body was power! And then Cora came. Somebody told me to look down at my baby but I was concentrating too hard and just shook my head no. I felt her leave my body. Everything was heightened.  I was just so present. I didn't miss a single moment of her birth. Our bodies had worked together so well.  We were a great team! My beautiful baby was born and the power inside of my body dissipated, having done its work fantastically. I could hear the midwife telling whoever it was who caught the baby to hold her bottom down and her head up. I don't know what the deal was with that but I opened my eyes after a few seconds and there was my beautiful squishy baby.  My daughter. My baby, my daughter.

I turned around in the tub and rested against it while they drained the tub and waited for the placenta. The placenta came and they put it in a ziploc bag so I could move to the bed. Felipe and I just laid on the bed and enjoyed our beautiful child. Everybody loved on Cora and we spent time trying to fix a name to her.  She ended up not being named for another week.  It's hard work! Eventually they clamped Cora's cord and Felipe cut it.  They weighed and measured Cora and did all their assessing right there on the bed with us.  Cora was 9 pounds 8 ounces and 21 inches, born barely an hour after we go to the birthing center.  I ended up having about 2 stitches for a tear and they said I had a few "slits" (yeah...baby tears maybe? Idk) and could stitch them if I wanted but I didn't need it. It would only make it sting less when I peed if they stitched it, which, incidentally, I am all for, so stitch they did.

I took a shower and Carrie left and the midwives let us just exist in the room for a while. We ate snacks and loved on Cora and just enjoyed the moment. After an hour (or five, I can't remember) we packed up and headed out. I was hardly sore at all and my body felt great. I couldn't move without crying after Phillip was born and here I was, hours after Cora, and was going down stairs and showering and walking around without a care.  It was a dream.  We drove to Katelyn's to see Phillip and show off Cora and then went home.

Recovery was amazing. I was hardly sore and my body felt great (we even walked around Ikea four days later). Postpartum cramps were a mean trick but they only lasted a few days. Sitting down and standing up was the most painful part of my recovery just because my thighs were shot from all my labor squats. And here we are, 7 weeks later, enjoying our growing family. I wish everybody could experience birth like I did with Cora. There is nothing more empowering.

Don't You Quit

Don't You Quit

I love this message.  Trust in good things to come.

IVF Research Study

I received two emails from the Utah Fertility Center about an IVF research study they're participating in and thought I'd throw that information out there in case anyone can benefit from it. They're testing a new medication to see if it helps with IVF effectiveness and outcomes. If you qualify, you'll receive tests and IVF procedures at no cost, which is a great deal since that procedure is super spendy. "To qualify for the Thrive Study, a person has to have 3 Failed Fresh IVF cycles or have 2 Failed Fresh and 1 Failed Frozen IVF Cycles." If this applies to you, it won't hurt to contact them.  Even if you don't qualify for the IVF study they most likely have other resources and ways to help you. I think this is definitely something worth looking into! I've included the two informational fliers they sent me. I hope this can help somebody with something they otherwise wouldn't be able to afford and hopefully this medication can be shown to help others in the future.

Happy Two Months

Happy two months to my Phillip boy! He's getting so big and can no longer be considered a newborn.  He's definitely turning into his own little person.  He's also over 12 pounds now, just 2 pounds lighter than his 7 month old cousin haha.  And at last measuring, he was 5.5 inches longer than he was a birth. Felipe attributes Phillip's growth to my "nuclear breast milk". In any case, he's getting big.  He's wearing mostly 3 month and 3-6 month clothes.

As to new things, he just recently started drooling.  He doesn't drool a ton, but it's certainly there.  It's also common to see him sporting a spit bubble.  He's also started recognizing when he's being put in his crib (and crying because of it) and also recognizing when someone is coming into his room to pick him up (and stops crying). It's fun to see him more aware of his surroundings.  He spends a lot of time moving his fist in front of his face and staring at it the whole time, and he now coos at inanimate objects.

He will also coo at me and Felipe and loves being sung to. He loves being engaged and loves when we make eye contact with him.  He's also rubbing his eyes now when he's tired. He's certainly developing his little personality and I love it! We're still working on the whole sleep thing though.  That's tough. I wanted to end the co-seeping business because I just don't sleep very soundly with him next to me, so we're putting him to bed each night in his crib. It's definitely a gradual process.  I put him down between 7 and 8 each night and he'll usually stay asleep. If not, then it takes an hour of work and then he'll stay down.  He usually sleeps until around 11-midnight and I feed him again.  On good nights he goes back to sleep and wakes up to eat every 2.5-3 hours.  Usually, though, he does not go back to sleep and I feel like a jack in the box, getting in and out of bed.  He falls asleep easily but wakes back up as soon as we put him back down.  It can get very frustrating, to say the least. But we'll get there!

He has a lot of nicknames right now but the main ones are teeny-tiny, son-boy, and Phillip-boy. He just sure is great! Overall a very smiley, happy baby.

These are 0-3 month pants. So cute but so small for him now!

Phillip's Baby Blessing

 I am really behind the times here because Phillip's blessing was on March 1st...almost a month ago. So basically, half his life ago.  But I wanted to get this post up since writing in my journal has fallen by the wayside and I also wanted to get some pictures up.

Phillip's blessing weekend was really great.  My Dad flew in from Oregon and got to meet Phillip for the first time (too bad he didn't have any tricks yet...boring newborn ha) and we had a lot of family time, visiting and playing games with my siblings.  And eating a lot of delicious junk food. Ice cream and donuts will always be my favorite food. Sigh.

We had Phillip's blessing at the church on a Saturday because we liked the idea of just having friends and family there and not making everyone sit through an entire sacrament meeting just for the blessing.  It was a much more intimate setting and then we ate food and visited afterwards, all without having to caravan to someones cramped home.

Felipe's mom and her husband came from Idaho and were a huge help with getting everything set up.  They also brought Pastel de choclo to share, which is delicious. Also, don't be tricked.  Pastel de choclo is NOT chocolate cake, as my fantastic spanish skills led me to believe.  It's a bit like shepherd's pie. But still, delicious.

Those in the circle for Phillip's blessing were my dad, my uncle Jon, our brother in law Damon, Claude, Tavi, and my grandpa, with Felipe acting as voice.  An LDS baby blessing is a bit comparable to a Christening, but we believe that a child isn't accountable enough to be baptized until age 8, so we don't practice infant baptism.  Instead, infants are given a blessing and their name is made official for the records of the church.  I really wish we had recorded the blessing, but I didn't even think about that.  Rats.

With Felipe's Mom

I just love his teeny tie.  I fed him right as we got to the church,
so he was a bit milk drunk the whole time ha.

All the babies! My grandpa holding his two great grandchildren.

My dad and Phillip

Bathtime!

We didn't bathe Phillip for a while because there really wasn't much point and for the first couple of weeks I was just trying to keep myself and him alive.  He's a stoic little guy but seemed to enjoy his first bath and now will smile during them.  He is a super chill baby and is happy pretty much everywhere.

                                                             First bath: February 16

So content after his next bath: February 18

Bath time video we made to send to Felipe at work: March 4

Don't worry that my voice gets angry when I talk to the cat ha.

Bath time smiles!  March 10

                                                 My child may be the spawn of Jabba the Hut

He filled the tub with poop right after this picture haha.

All in all, bath time is a success and he doesn't even mind when the water gets in his eyes.  I have the feeling he'd be content to sit in there all day, as long as there's boob service.

Phillip's Birth Story (Part 2)

We checked into the laboring room at American Fork hospital around 4 am and Phillip was born at 11:22 am, after almost three hours of pushing, so from 4 am to about 8 I just labored as best I could. Felipe and Carrie were my champions.  They were amazing. I can't imagine giving birth without them. If you are on the fence about getting a doula, DO IT. She knew exactly what I needed when I needed it and just did it.  A heating pad on my back? Check.  Cool washcloth on my forehead? Check again. Some nice citrus bliss oil to smell? Encouraging words? A steady hand? Check, check, check. She was such a blessing to have and I really value the friendship.  She stayed with me almost that whole first day after Phillip was born, answering questions, helping me breastfeed, etc. I can not praise her enough. And then Felipe; just amazing.  A whole new part of him was born that day, too. Labor and delivery brought us closer together as nothing else ever has. He was at my side every minute of labor, pushing, and delivering. He was my rock. He would hold me and talk to me and told me every step of the way that I could do this. He never let me give up (and I tried to, very many times). He told me over and over how strong I was and how amazing I was.  And he didn't get mad at me when I got mad at him for reminding me I didn't want an epidural ha.  And he let me practically rip out his hair when I was finally pushing. There were many times when I was laboring in the tub where I would just give up mid contraction and start panicking, stop breathing, and start crying and he talked me through every single one. At one point Carrie suggested he give me a blessing and he did, right there.  I was on hands and knees in the tub, my butt flashing everyone, ready to give up (again) and Felipe gave me a blessing.  I don't remember what he said and I didn't make it through the whole blessing before having another contraction, but just the fact that he was there and could offer me that strength and comfort made a difference.  Labor was very much a mind game.  There were periods where I handled it like a champ, and there were periods where I just broke down and cried and didn't think I could possibly handle another contraction.  Sometimes, when I could feel a new contraction start I just wanted to run and hide where it could never find me.

Eventually I moved from the tub to the bed and was ready to start pushing.  Before labor I had always thought I'd like to squat for pushing but by the time my body was ready I was so exhausted.  I had labored all night and was tired and worn down from the pain and didn't want to be anywhere but lying on my side in that bed, wanting it all to be over. Laying down during contractions is PAINFUL. I had to reach deep inside of me a few times in order to keep going.  But I knew I didn't have any other options.  That baby needed to come out, so I just kept going. Pushing took almost 3 hours and they finally realized it was because I had a thin lip of cervix there, blocking things.  Either the midwife moved it herself or it just went away, I can't remember. But eventually I started making progress with pushing.  I expected to groan and strain and squeeze my eyes shut tight, but I didn't expect the intense pressure and pain on my hips.  That was the worst part of pushing.  Carrie and Felipe would massage my hips between contractions, Carrie a calm, quiet presence, and Felipe whispering encouraging words. There was one point where I was pushing and wanted to give up (yet again) and I just looked at Felipe and asked him to help me. Please, help me. Help this be over.  He said that was one of the hardest parts for him, seeing me in that pain and asking him to help me and there being nothing he could do. I saw him tear up and start to cry a little, and then I closed my eyes again and went back to making it through this beast of a thing called giving birth.

Carrie and the midwife were eventually able to convince me to change positions and they brought in a birthing bar for me.  Carrie and Felipe would put counter pressure on my legs and I would pull on a rope during each contraction and that's when things got real.  They brought in a mirror for me to see (which I didn't really want and had my eyes closed the whole time anyways, so it didn't do much good) and that just made it so Felipe had to watch the deed of the baby being born, something he didn't really want to see (who can blame him?!).  Having the mirror there was also discouraging.  Pushing is two steps forward, one step back.  I'd give a couple giant pushes each contraction and Phillip would descend a little, then move back again.  When the midwife and nurse would get excited when seeing the head and would tell me to look, all I saw was a teeny tiny hole with a little blob that would show for a second, then go back into my body.  So disheartening! I felt like I'd never get him out. And by this point Phillip had started moving around and kicking me from the inside, so that was great too.

After pushing with the bar for a little bit they saw that there was a sac of water between me and the baby's head so they asked me if I'd like them to break it in the hopes it would help Phillip come out sooner.  I really didn't care about the giant crochet hook looking thing they used to pop it, I just wanted him out. At one point while I was pushing I saw Felipe have a weird reaction and look on his face.  I semi wondered what it meant but at the same time didn't want to know because I guessed he saw me tear and I didn't want to know if it had really happened.  Turns out, Phillip's head was so big that he started ripping me up before even coming out and I had an internal tear.  What Felipe saw was a gush of blood from that rip. Phillip's head didn't mold at all on the way out, which made for a nice looking baby, but made pushing him out harder.

I can't describe what it was like to finally push out my child. Painful, surreal, exhilarating, empowering, exhausting...all those things and more. Spiritual, even.  After years of trying, months of preparing, and hours of pain, he was finally ready to be here. Pushing seemed to come from deep within my butt. In the moment, I was surprised at how much pressure I was feeling in my butt area.  I really kinda felt like I was having a gigantic poop. But the time came for his head to come out and every bone in my body yelled that I needed to push push push! And the pushing became so easy and fluid and natural, then the midwife told me to stop. Stop pushing! Just give little teeny pushes, super soft and easy. Everybody listen.  Next time you have a giant poop, try holding it in just as it starts coming out. Impossible! But I knew she wanted me to do that so I wouldn't tear, and I certainly didn't want to tear, so little teeny pushes it was. Once the head was out, everything happened so fast.  At some point somebody told me to reach down and grab my baby, and I did.  No questions asked. It seemed like the most natural thing in the world. It was so surreal.  One moment, I was pushing for all I was worth...then not pushing, then my child was on my chest. I just grabbed him and pulled him up and laid him on my chest.  My beautiful, chunky boy. I just kept saying "my son, my son" and had tears streaming down my face, and Felipe had tears streaming down his face, and Carrie was teary eyed too and it was just an amazing experience.  Felipe and I just looked at each other, our boy in my arms, and our relationship deepened in a way that I didn't think was possible. Such pure love was in that room. Carrie had been playing music quietly in the background the whole time and at the moment I first held my boy the hymn "I know that my Redeemer Lives" came on the pandora station, and it was just perfect.

They asked me before hand what we did and didn't want done when the boy was finally born and what we did want was delayed cord clamping, so after holding my baby for a few minutes they asked Felipe to cut the cord, which he did (although he hadn't been planning on it) and they eventually took Phillip to weigh him and put a diaper on him.  They did this right by my bed, which I was grateful for.  He barely even cried, that boy.  He just silently looked around.  I just stared at his chunky arms and thighs and marveled that he was my son.  He also wanted to nurse right away and latched right on, Carrie guiding me the whole time because I had no idea what I was doing.

I apparently lost a lot of blood and had ended up tearing externally, too, anyways, so while I was holding Phillip there were two midwives stitching me up and a nurse gave me a shot of pitocin and somebody else started kneading my stomach.  That was THE WORST.  And they did it multiple times right after birth, then every hour for the next while.  I hated it. I asked how many stitches they were giving me and the midwife just smiled and said it didn't really matter-not many.  Which kind of annoyed me but I was too busy with my baby to really push the matter.  I did wince from the stitches and they said there was no point numbing me.  I guess I shouldn't complain about the pain of the needle stitching me up after going through the pain of birth, but I really didn't like that either. Eventually they took Phillip to the nursery to bathe and do a hearing check, apgar test, etc, and Felipe went with him.

They had a hard time with my heartbeat being so high and losing blood etc but eventually left me and Carrie alone in the delivery room and every time an alarm would go off on the machine we would just silence it ourselves...shhh don't tell.  They brought me snacks to take Ibuprofen with and I ordered lunch and I just sat in bed and ate and visited with Carrie while Felipe and Phillip were away in the nursery. Back when we were all still in the delivery room Felipe was holding the baby and we were going over different names we had thought about.  When Felipe said "Phillip James" Phillip made a little cooing sound and we took that as a sign that he liked that name haha.  It was a nice coincidence, but he really didn't look like any other name we had thought of.  He looked just like a Phillip.

Eventually a nurse came and moved me to mother baby and Carrie and I visited until they FINALLY brought my baby back. We stayed in the hospital until the next day. Beforehand I had wanted to leave the hospital a couple hours after birth but my body was not having that. I couldn't move myself at all, my hip hurt so bad. I couldn't believe what I had done to myself and couldn't picture having a normal, functioning body again. I could feel blood flowing out of me every time I moved, and sneezing was torture. I was surprised at how painful peeing was and refused to think about my next poop. They also had to change my sheets because blood soaked through my pad, hospital diaper, and the puppy training pad they have you lie on. The second time I peed, I passed out. Thankfully Felipe was there to catch me.  I just felt like a gross, helpless mess.  And on top of it all I was now responsible for this completely helpless being.

Things got better, though.  I can handle the bathroom all by myself now, thank you.  And we're adjusting to being a family of three. It was really hard at first.  I had no idea how hard having a baby would be.  Labor and delivery was easy compared to the recovery and adjusting. It took a couple days at home before I could stand up long enough to brush my teeth.  And showering was a marathon.  I don't think recovery would have been as bad if I hadn't lost as much blood, but I did it.  And Felipe did it. He has been simply amazing. If we can get our baby to sleep better at night then I will have this mom thing down pat haha :)

Ps: If anybody is wondering, I did not poo on the delivery bed. Success! Also, some of these pictures may be too much for some people.  Sorry! But you know, birth happens. It's ok.

Phillip's Birth Story (Part one)

In honor of Phillip being a month old and having had his baby blessing last week, I figured it was high time I wrote his birth story.  So here it is, in all it's glory. If reading about giant bodies coming out of tiny holes (and everything that goes along with it) isn't your thing, then you probably ought to skip this post.

January 27-
     I stayed awake after Felipe left for work, which I've regretted ever since.  If only I had known that was my last day EVER to sleep in! Oh well. I just spent the day doing things that I wanted done before the baby was born and right before 3 pm I was loading books onto the bookshelf when I felt some fluid come out.  And you know, that's really not that abnormal when you're pregnant (which is fun...) but this felt different to me.  I went to the bathroom and decided to change my underwear when I started seriously leaking, enough to make a few little bloody puddles on the floor.  My brain told me that my water had probably broken, but I couldn't get my body to do anything about it.  I just stood there, half naked, staring at the puddles on the bathroom floor and thinking 'huh, guess my water broke or something.  Guess I'm really going to have a baby. Weird." I never really expected my water to break before labor.  I had read that it's actually not really common for a pregnant woman's water to break at the beginning of labor so I just assumed I'd be the same.  I don't know if it's not common because that's how women's bodies are or if the statistics are just skewed because of all the women who are induced or have scheduled c-sections because obviously their water wouldn't break spontaneously.  But regardless, I was surprised it had happened to me.  I decided to call Felipe and let him know what was going on.  We were both so clueless! I feel like looking back and realizing we were clueless is going to be a common theme for parenting. He asked if he should come home but I felt like it was pointless since I wasn't having contractions yet and didn't know how long before actual labor would kick in.  We decided I should call our doula Carrie and see what she thought and then go from there.  I wanted to talk to my sister first but she didn't answer so I called Carrie and told her what was going on.  She said it sounded like my water had broken and that I had a high break so liquid would keep coming out when the baby or I would move and she suggested I try and get some sleep and call her back when things started picking up. I understood that it was good advice to sleep but really?! The day had finally come! Sleep was impossible. So I put on one of those fancy Depends so I wouldn't get fluid all over my house and chatted on the phone with my sister until Felipe got home from work.  I decided not to call the midwives because I didn't want to get on their radar and start the countdown from my water breaking to when I would' die a horrible death from an infection if I didn't check into the hospital' drama.  I didn't want to be pressured into anything and I definitely didn't want to be at the hospital if I hadn't started contractions because I didn't want to be induced or have labor augmented if it could be avoided.

Felipe and I just did our thing all evening and imagined what it would be like to hold our baby and then also watched Frozen.  That movie will always make me think of the night before labor.  We went to bed around midnight and while Felipe was able to fall asleep I just laid there. Then at 12:40 am January 28-BAM-my first contraction. It was intense enough that I couldn't stay in bed.  I was partly excited that things were finally happening but mostly I was just thinking that that was kind of painful and not my favorite thing.  After just a few contractions they were intense enough that I woke up Felipe.  We walked around the house for a bit then I took a hot bath while Felipe timed contractions and played pump up music for me.  Pretty much the whole time I was in labor the contractions were only about 2 minutes apart and super intense.  I was surprised about that because I was expecting more of a build up, but your body just does what your body does.

I called Carrie around 3 am and she came over to help with laboring.  By the time she got here I couldn't do anything during a contraction but just focus on getting through it.  When a contraction was coming Felipe would come hug me from the front and I'd lean on him and Carrie would come from behind and put counter pressure on my hips, then we'd all go back to chatting until the next one would hit. At this point I was still getting instant relief at the end of each contraction, which was nice.  Later on it just felt like I was having one giant contraction that was going on for hours. So that was fun.  My contractions were intense enough when Carrie got here that she said her guess was that I was already in transition.  I loved hearing that! I thought yeah! Piece of cake! I can totally do this! Fast forward to when we've checked into the hospital and they tell me I'm still only a four.  Yup.  Instant demand for an epidural.

The short car ride from our house to American Fork hospital was a beast.  I only had two contractions in the car but any inhibitions I had previously had were out the window.  I hadn't made it to the hospital yet and I was already all about screaming and grunting and moaning. I learned how primal giving birth really is.  Every birth is different, but in my case once I just turned things over to my body and trusted it to get me through this, my mind was able to take a backseat.  It was really all instinct.  And I was able to retreat into myself and just let my body go.  Before labor I had really worried about staying modest and was worried that I would be too inhibited to make the sounds and go through the motions that I knew would help my body open up and give birth.  But nope! During labor, all those inhibitions left, too. I could have walked around the hospital naked without caring, as long as it got that darn baby out. I was almost naked for most of labor, in and out of the tub, swaying, laying on the bed. Everybody got a beautiful view of my rear end and I really didn't care. I also spent every contraction moaning or mooing like a cow.  It. Just. Happens. By the time I gave birth my voice was shot. Part of my mind wondered if my hospital neighbors could hear me and that same part wondered if maybe I ought to be embarrassed but it was quickly hushed by the next contraction.

Checking into the hospital was a pain.  A literal pain. I really wanted to have a home birth or at least give birth at a birthing center but we ended up planning on AF hospital.  We had gone the weekend before to pre register so I wouldn't have to do that during labor, and the whole time I was just so disappointed that I would be giving birth there. It seemed so clinical and impersonal and sterile.  I felt like the white walls and shiny floors were just yelling at me that something was wrong with me and that my body couldn't give birth and I had to be admitted with all the sick and dying people in order to properly give birth. I trusted my body to do this and I wanted the world to trust it, too. (Caveat: I'm not trying to say any way of giving birth is better than another.  I just knew what I wanted and how I felt. By all means, give birth whatever way you want!)  Checking in the night of D-day I still had papers to sign and questions to answer before they took me to a room. I had hoped to avoid this by pre registering but oh well.  My contractions were really close together so I was able to answer one question or sign one paper before we'd all have to wait for the next contraction to pass. I just wanted to give birth and be done with that place and the meanies were making me sign things and answer questions that I absolutely remember nothing about. Eventually that was done and I changed into a gown for them to check me. Honestly, being checked was one of my least favorite things about it all.  So painful! Then when they learned that my water had already broken the nurse said they hadn't had to check me and should have been able to just check me into a room.  Grr.  I also got a little gruff for not calling the midwives when my water broke, but oh well.  I was about to push a baby out of me.  I could handle some gruff.

It's taken me a week to get this first half written (I had to edit my first line accordingly) so I'm just going to publish this part now so it can get out there. Hopefully part 2 will be forthcoming!

Getting Closer

I'm seven months pregnant today, and it's so odd to be in a place that I've dreamed about and longed for for so long. I love this boy so much already and I love that he is mine and I love that he is Felipe's and I love that there will never be another person just like him, even if Felipe and I made 100 babies. And I'm getting so antsy for him to be born.  I want to hold him and squeeze him and kiss his little cheeks and pinch his chubby thighs and just marvel in the miracle of his existence.  I feel like I'm the first person in the world to have ever been in love.  And I just love having this little buddy with me all day. I love feeling him move and complaining to him about his constant squirming.  And I love the terror I feel about squeezing his massive body out of my tiny down-under. And I love it all because he is my child and Felipe's child and we get to raise him and love him together. A family is such an amazing, sacred thing and the more I digest the important role Felipe and I will play as parents, the more I understand why Satan is working so hard to break families down. I know it's not going to be all fun and roses and I'm so nervous that I'll fail him as a mother, but there is so much joy in being a family, and things don't have to be easy for them to bring you joy.

On to other matters, here's a riddle for you that I just accept but really blows Felipe's mind: I'm considered seven months pregnant today, am due three months from last Tuesday, but won't actually be physically pregnant for nine months until February 1st, even though I'm due January 22.  Who said that women are pregnant for nine months? I'll be considered full term at 37 weeks on January 1st, but will have been actually pregnant for only and exactly 8 months on that day.  No wonder babies are never born on their due dates; we keep changing the dates on them and I think they just don't know when to come out. Depending on how you calculate it, a full term woman is pregnant anywhere from 8-10 months (I'll take the 8, thank you).

I know it's been two long months since my last post and a lot has changed.  Number one change is these darn fake contractions. If I had to guess, I'd say this baby is going to come early (which would be ok with us).  Any time I walk around for more than a few minutes (for example: grocery shopping) Braxton-Hicks comes calling. I never get them sitting down so it's a good thing I have a desk job. I guess it's ok I'm getting a lot of these contractions now because I only plan on having a handful of real contractions during labor before baby comes out...wouldn't that be nice?

The newest development is regarding insurance. Bleh! I'm still on my Dad's insurance, which has been great, but I turn 26 in a week and a half and reach the age where one is suppose to be independent insurance-wise. With all the fancy fertility bills (which we'll still be making payments on after baby is actually born, hopefully his cute face will make it easier to send off those checks) I've already hit my deductible for the year. It seemed like a bit of a mean trick for baby to be due just a few months after my insurance ran out and I'd have to switch to Felipe's and start over on the deductible.  However, I just learned that my Dad's insurance will cover me until Jan 1 2014.  Just 22 days stand between paying a butt load for the birth and paying a comparative pittance.  22 days! I'd much rather not be making concurrent payments for the child's conception and birth so fingers crossed for a December 30th baby! Yes, yes, of course his health is most important. But if he's going to be just as healthy at 37 weeks as he will be at 40, I'll take the 37 weeks and save that money.  Especially since we'll be going down to one income when the baby's born and I quit my job (which is stressful in and of itself).

All in all, this pregnancy is going great.  We're getting ready to paint his room, all of his beautiful little socks are in his drawer waiting for him, and the baby shower is under way.  Here's to smooth sailing from here on out!

Spotting is Scary

One of my biggest fears is that I will become a hypochondriac; don't worry about the logic behind a fear of becoming overly fearful.  More accurately, I'm afraid people will view me as a hypochondriac. On Monday I was at work when I realized I had started spotting.  Of course my first concern was about the baby and then I was concerned about what the clinic would think about me if I called in and asked them if this was normal.  I also don't like people knowing that sometimes I just don't know things.  I was pretty sure I shouldn't be concerned but of course I was still scared because this is my first time and I really don't know anything.  I clocked out of work and went outside to call the clinic (because I'm sure my coworkers did not want to hear about the blood on my underwear...odd) and the secretary told me the nurse would call me right back. And then I waited for 40 minutes, which was great. I haven't bled at all my entire pregnancy, not even really any implantation spotting.  The nurse told me it was probably fine but I could go in to check the baby if I wanted.  Since she wasn't concerned I convinced myself that I wasn't either, and decided to wait until my appt on Wednesday. And then I called Felipe but he was teaching a class and couldn't answer.  I was a little glad he didn't answer because I'm sure I would have burst into tears.  Sometimes being scared is hard. And then I went back to work and acted normal and pretended I wasn't secretly going to the bathroom every five minutes to check my pants.  Oh son, why do you have to worry me already?  This really was not a big deal and I have been so blessed in this pregnancy to be really healthy. And I think this was really hardest for Felipe because he was teaching a class and trying to surreptitiously text me at the same time and just so worried.  I was sorry to have worried him but it was so sweet to see his concern.

I did have my regularly scheduled appointment with a midwife yesterday (which was not a great visit, but for other reasons) and the baby's heartbeat was great.  And no spotting since.  Hopefully that was a one time fluke.  I also secretly think that the clinic didn't believe me when I told them we hadn't had sex in the last few days.  That was the first question both the nurse on Monday and then the midwife on Wednesday asked me and when I answered no they both paused a minute and then said something along the lines of "well, it's really common to have a little bleeding after intercourse, so I wouldn't be concerned".  It is just so great not to be believed.  But baby is fine and that's what's important.  Let's keep the scary things in the past!

A Boy's Story is the Best That is Ever Told

I know my blog is behind the times and most everybody knows that we are having a boy, but I love my boy and I love his story so I wanted a post just for announcing and re announcing and then proclaiming: We are having a son! The title of this post is a quote from Charles Dickens and the sexism slightly grates on me but I will send it to the back of my mind and just enjoy it.  Some of Dickens' books I can't stand.  I have tried so many times to read Hard Times and just can't get through it.  Oliver Twist made me so emotionally distraught that I ended up throwing the book across the room...and then picking it up again and reading the last chapter just so I knew it would end up ok.  But Great Expectations is one of my favorite books and I thought it fitting to use a Dickens quote for the title since we are (most likely) naming our son Phillip. Phillip is after Felipe, not after a neglected and abused little boy, but I still like the idea that one of my favorite books is being embodied through something that we created.

We had the gender check on the last day of my 15th week.  I was nervous that it would be too early to see anything but the ultrasound was beautiful.  The baby was relaxing the whole time with his legs propped up and his arms behind his head and when the tech showed us his little weiner Felipe and I both teared up.  We also saw the heart pumping blood and could see his little developing brain.  We have the ability to create another human body with our own human bodies and I don't think this gets the fanfare and respect it deserves.  When I stop to think about it it awes me.  We are thrilled to be having a boy, but I was still a little sad for the girl who could have been.  I think I would have felt the same way either way.

We had the gender check in the middle of my family reunion so we were able to announce to almost the whole family at the same time what we were having.  I had prepared a bunch of craft sticks before hand with mustaches and bows at the top and then colored the bottom tips green, which were then hidden in little pebbles. On the count of three everybody drew a stick and they all found out together.  A son!  Felipe is already talking about when he can watch soccer games with him and I just love it.  e. e. cummings wrote that "the world is mud-luscious and puddle-wonderful" and that is the world that I cannot wait to introduce to my son.

That mark by his leg is his umbilical cord, not his man part.
Don't be alarmed.

I cannot make things look cute, but that doesn't
stop me from having a good time trying!

2 Servings of 2nd Trimester Next Time, Please, and Hold the First

Depending on which pregnancy app I go by my 2nd trimester either starts tomorrow or started last week.  Either way, I am loving it. It's so refreshing to want to eat again and I'm amazed every day at how much better I feel when I can actually eat.  No more headaches? Great. Energy? I'll take it. And it's an added bonus that I'm no longer ready to vomit at the smell of the lunch of somebody sitting two rooms away.  Why does smelling have to be enhanced when you're pregnant? Why can't we have super vision instead?  I'm really getting into the grove of being pregnant now and I can really sport the hair-tie-holding-your-pants-up fashion statement.  I haven't gained any weight yet, not even one pound, but my pants are so tight that I'm only comfortable when I use a hair tie through the button-hole.  And this is definitely cheaper than maternity clothes, although maybe not the most stylish.

I finally found a provider for my pregnancy, which is no small feat since my insurance is switching in November and I had to find a provider who would take both insurances.  Unless I end up hating their guts after a few appointments, I'm going to go with the midwives at the Central Utah Clinic and plan on delivering at American Fork Hospital.  I'm going to call them tomorrow to set up my first appointment.  I feel like this is going to make my pregnancy real. Bring it on!  I'm not too happy about delivering at American Fork because my greatest desire (ok, besides having a healthy baby) is to give birth at a birthing center.  Everything about them just appeals to me and there's even one close to my home that I like.  But my gut is saying no so I'll go with my gut.  Maybe it'll work out for baby number two.  What appeals to me about American Fork Hospital is they have external fetal monitors so I don't need to be hooked up and confined to the bed during labor and they have been rated one of the best hospitals in my area to go natural.  They also have jacuzzi tubs (surprise! I'm a bit hippie) and I'm all for relaxing my body and easing the pain (sans drugs).  With a birthing center you can go home hours after birth, which is what I want, but I may need to eat that desire with a hospital birth. I'm just going to have to remind myself that the end goal is a healthy baby and in the great scheme of things an extra day at the hospital or a redundant PKU is not going to ruin my child nor my life.  My goal, though, is to get in, get out, and live happily ever after.

As for the gender, we're going to just pay $25 at a nearby clinic and have a gender ultrasound in two weeks.  If baby is too shy at 16 weeks then we'll just pay again and go the next week.  I feel like this is a great deal.

My only complaint these last few weeks is that my metabolism seems to be all screwed up.  I've always been one who's had to snack throughout the day to keep myself going but now I have to be CONSTANTLY snacking to stay comfortable.  The other day I told Felipe that I was so hungry that I was starting to sweat and I was surprised that he was surprised; I definitely thought that was normal. If I go longer than 45 minutes without a snack I go shaky and sweaty, which is really starting to be a pain.  And you would think my body would be considerate enough to give me a gradual build up to hunger but no, hunger will come out of nowhere and hit me like a freight train.  I'll be just fine and then bam-I'll be almost doubled over with hunger pain.  It is really so much fun.  I would still take this over the nausea, though.  And also over not having a baby. I just can't imagine what it'll be like when the baby is big enough to take all my food.  I will probably be big as a blimp with all the food I'll have to eat.

Fun fact: baby is now developed enough to pee inside my uterus. So that's great. Everyone says it's so wonderful to feel their baby move but I'm actually not looking forward to that.  I feel like I have some sort of parasite inside of me and the thought of feeling it move creeps me out. And I'm not even going to dwell on the peeing.

We have our favorite boy and girl names picked out and in two short weeks we will hopefully know which name will be gracing our child.

Farewell, nausea. Second trimester, I love you.

Double Digits!

Ten whole weeks! I'm in the double digits and a fourth of the way done.  What a great week! Although I'm ready to just have my baby here now.  Everybody says to just enjoy being pregnant...what's not to enjoy about constant fatigue, nauseu, and random and sporatic pain? I'll just take the baby, thank you. I'm hoping the second trimester is as good as everyone says.

I had an ultrasound last Thursday that I've been meaning to post about but we were moving Thursday, Friday, and all day Saturday and then we didn't have internet until Monday.  But life is getting more settled again so here we go: the ultrasound was fantastic!  I also hope it was my last transvaginal ultrasound; I'm ready for the machine going over my stomach, thank you very much.  My doctor (who I've only actually seen once) was on maternity leave so I saw Dr. Foulk.  I wasn't really looking forward to him doing the ultrasound but he was so friendly and nice and professional that I didn't really care.  I think it just made Felipe uncomfortable that it was a man this time haha.  We got to see the little thing squirming about and then he was kicking his leg all the while.  It was so fun to watch him move.  The dr asked me who my OBGYN was which is a bit of a problem since I don't have one yet. I have decided that I want a midwife but I'm still switching sides on whether I'll deliver with a midwife in a hospital or go to a birthing center. I really didn't think the dr would go for that so I somewhat reluctantly told him I wanted to go with a midwife but didn't have one yet and I was pleasantly surprised by his reaction.  He gave me the name and phone number of a midwife he recommended and told us which hospital she'd deliver at based on our insurance.  He was really helpful and I was really grateful. I was also relieved that he didn't try to make me feel dumb for wanting a midwife, which was refreshing.  I still need to call her but don't really feel much of a rush since there's not much anyone can do about baby yet.  There doesn't seem to be much point until I'm further along.

I love the picture we got at the ultrasound.  He looks like a stubby little gummy bear with T-rex arms that aren't good for anything.  Enjoy!

Baby Portus, I love you already.

Ultrasound #1 is in the bag.  And there's a real baby there! It's truly there.  When the tech started the ultrasound I kept trying to spot two little babies in there but there is just the one. And honestly, I'm thrilled.  Just to have it healthy and growing tickles me pink. I was a little disappointed that I wasn't having twins, but it's the kind of disappointed where you get a $20 Barnes and Noble gift card instead of $25.  You're still thrilled and just have to remind yourself not to get greedy.

The ultrasound tech was so super nice and also happy with us.  She pointed out little baby's flashing heart (which I honestly couldn't really see, although Felipe and the tech could-lame) and then she turned on the sound and we got to listen to the little heart.  Could anything be more miraculous? I can't even imagine all the complex things that have to go perfectly for a new, living person to be born, and yet it happens all the time.  No better evidence for a divine Being.

We did some measuring and the tech kept saying everything was "perfect".  The baby's just floating around in there, bobbing with its yolk sac, but beware child! It will soon get very crowded.  The little thing's heart was beating at 160 bpm and it really was just an awesome experience to hear.  Also, turns out that I was spot on with the due date.  January 22, 2014-on Wednesday I'll be 8 whole weeks.  The baby is 13.7 mm long, actually he's the same size as he is in his picture. So tiny! And yet so nauseating. But I love him.

To my surprise, they scheduled another ultrasound next week.  I'm usually all about declining unnecessary medical procedures, but how could I say no to another quick peek? I wish I had an ultrasound machine at home and could just have a look, willy nilly. They called this next one my "graduating ultrasound".  That's the last (hopefully) I'll see of them, and now the journey's on to find someone to deliver my baby. Enjoy the picture! The head is on the right and the ball on the left is the yolk sac.

7 Weeks Down

*This post will have a part of...ahem...honesty...in it. Dad, I'm warning you now.

Being 7 weeks pregnant is fantastic.  Being any day pregnant is fantastic.  Admittedly, there are times where I may not whole-heartedly believe that, but remembering the sorrow from not being able to conceive puts me right back in the proper frame of mind. I almost wish everyone had to work hard to get their baby so little precious children could be more appreciated. But let's not get into that issue.

Most of my stress and concerns for the last few months were focused on just conceiving.  I had a vague idea that as soon as I conceived, stress and worry would fly out the window; I would be in happily ever after land.  Not so. It was just like a shift in my mindset, a literal 'out with the old, in with the new'. Every single worry was replaced with something like 'what if I miscarry', 'what if it's ectopic', and my current concern of 'how can I push that monster out of such a tiny hole?'. I'm going to take a stab at a life lesson and guess that no matter where you are in life, there's always something to worry about. I can't get around it, I guess.

Things were just great, though, being pregnant, until week 5 and 4 days hit. Cue the instant nausea. I know I've been really lucky; I haven't thrown up and the nausea hasn't been debilitating, but it's still not that fun.  I can't tell if it's let up the last few days or if I've just started to get used to it.  My nose is super sensitive so that contributes to all nausea as well. I can't open the drawer that my oils are in because they're too potent, and just looking at Felipe's dirty lunch containers makes me want to vomit.  The down side of that is that they don't get cleaned because dishes are not really Felipe's strong point...I wonder if my mother has started wondering yet where all her tuperware has gone.

I've also learned that sleeping/lying on my side makes me nauseous.  So I have to sleep on my back.  Which I hate.  Also, kissing my husband is nauseating.  A thousand good jokes could come from that, I know, but it's the sad truth. Even just little pecks make my stomach churn. Which is super odd.  I better tell him before he reads this post so he doesn't have his feelings hurt.

There are so many things about being pregnant that you just have to experience, and things that people don't ever tell you. (Dad, this is the part you should skip)  For example, sex-or any intimacy-HURTS.  Major time. I had no idea this was a thing and the first time the pain hit I thought I (or the baby) was dying.  I couldn't even get off the bed.  This is called curl-up-and-don't-talk-to-me pain. I'm so glad we don't live in the middle ages (or the 60s) and can talk about these sorts of things. I talked to my sister and looked it up and apparently it's not uncommon to have shooting death pains after intercourse.  Apparently orgasms cause uterine contractions...who knew? That was a big shocker to me. I have strong feelings that this is not the end of the pregnancy surprises. If there's anything else I should know, speak up!

(Dad, you can come back now.)

I feel like there is one major hurdle right now, and that's the ultrasound on Monday.  There are a thousand 'what-ifs'.  What if a baby didn't start developing? What if it's ectopic? What if I have a rare condition that makes the baby grow super fast and then die? It just spirals downward from there.  I'm not too concerned about that last one, but I'll still just breathe a huge sigh of relief if the ultrasound shows a healthy, developing baby. Until the new worries hit, of course.

Until then, I will continue on my diet of grapes, string cheese, pretzels, and applesauce.  The four main food groups. Surely they contain all the nutrients I need...

This is called: I still can't believe it!

Everyone has been so patient and waited longer than expected to hear the news of Wednesday so here it is: I'm pregnant! Can you believe it? I sure can't. We had a surprise trip planned to visit my Dad and family this weekend and wanted to tell my Dad in person that I was pregnant, so the blog update had to wait.  I promise that I wanted to tell the world, and now I can. I'm pregnant!!!  When I got the voicemail on Wednesday I listened to the first bit, just because I didn't recognize the number and wanted to make sure it actually was the clinic that called.  So I got to hear "Lauren, this is so-and-so from the Utah Fertility Clinic..." and then I hung up the voicemail call.  Her voice sounded so sad! I was sure she had bad news.  Felipe finally came home and we listened to the voicemail: "Lauren, this is so-and-so from the Utah Fertility Clinic.  We got the results from your blood test and they were positive.  Lauren, you are pregnant." At which point I paused the recording and burst into tears and hugged Felipe for all he was worth.  Apparently in my jubilee I smacked Felipe in the side of the head, but he stoically bore the pain until the moment had died down.  What a trooper ha.  We listened to the rest of the voicemail, just details about calling her back and scheduling an ultrasound.  I really couldn't believe it.  I was speechless. I always thought being speechless was somewhat of a hyperbole, something that just happens in books, but I was really quite speechless.  I could only get out a few disjointed words. And I wanted to tell the world!  We left to go tell my sister, but she wasn't home.  We ran into my Mom and told her and then left to find my sister and her husband and then started to tell all the people we could tell in person.  It's still so unreal!  That night we bought tiny Martinellis and had our own little celebration and then watched Psych, of course.

Yesterday we flew to my Dad and I still have to take the Progesterone (until week 9), which has to be refrigerated, so we walked around the airport with a cup of ice and a huge RX bottle, mooching ice off of random overly-priced restaurants.  I also did some reading up on TSA's huge body scanners and decided to opt out, which made for a very nice groping session, but the personnel were really professional and kind (except for when I took my flip-flops off of the conveyor belt-you'd have thought I was wielding a knife by the way they reacted).

I'm due January 24th and the ultrasound at the fertility clinic is scheduled for June 10th, right after I'm 7 weeks.  The nurse said that my HCG levels were really good and at the high end of things at 350, so I'm just going to take that as another sign of twins.  It would be so great!

My heart really hurts for everyone who will read this and just feel bitter and left out because another woman got pregnant and they did not.  I guarantee that's how I would feel if the roles were reversed.  I know that pain is real.  There's nothing more to be said that hasn't already been said, and no more words of comfort left. I hope everyone will have their day, and I hope and pray that I actually am pregnant and that the ultrasound is positive and doesn't leave me in tears, but if not I have a testimony of faith and the comforting power of the Holy Ghost and the healing power of the Atonement.

For now, I'm just going to be thrilled and grateful each day for the poppy seed sized miracle inside of me.  Get ready, world, here comes baby Portus!

Waiting Game

Waiting is not a game; it's torture, or nigh unto it. I had my blood test this morning and now will wait until almost six pm (7 hours from now) before I get the results.  Felipe wants to find out the same time I do so I ask the clinic to leave the results in a voicemail and then Felipe and I listen to it together when he gets home from work.  The time between getting the voicemail and Felipe coming home is THE WORST.  Last month he was at least a half hour late coming home and I was about ready to rip him to shreds.  When I asked him why he was late he said he had stopped to help someone on the side of the road who had a flat tire.  Typical.  How can you get mad at your good Samaritan husband?

In other news, thank you to everyone who sent me kind words after my last post's rant. Rest assured that I have not lost the faith and am not going to commit suicide, I just needed to share what I was feeling and thinking. Dark times happen and how can you appreciate joy and happiness if you never feel the opposite? If the joy you feel is directly related to the despair you feel, then I will most likely burst with joy just as I was bursting with despair. I certainly hope that in 7 short hours I can tell the world I'm pregnant.  I'll admit though that I am a bit reluctant to post that I'm pregnant because I know a lot of people who read my blog are going through fertility issues too and I know if the roles were reversed I'd be so bitter for someone else to be pregnant while I was not. I'm pretty sure I would be secretly hoping that the other person wouldn't be pregnant, just so I would not feel alone in not having a baby.  I'm no saint.  So if I am pregnant, I apologize to everyone else and if it turns out I'm not, then please keep your smug happiness to yourself. Surely you are all better people than I am, though, and this won't be an issue for you. :)

And in further news, we signed a contract yesterday for our own place.  Finally! After almost one year of living with different family members, we are so thrilled to be out on our own again.  I don't want to sound ungrateful; it has been such a blessing being with different family and we had a lot of fun and really enjoyed it, but I just want to feel like we're really our own, mature, adult people again.  We're actually moving into our friends' apartment since they're moving to California (which is so very sad-for us), so we're already quite familiar with the apartment and I'm already planning in my head where to put things.  I'm super looking forward to trips to Ikea again!  We'll surely make many trips since our furniture right now consists of a bed, a tv, and multiple bookshelves.  We'll be sparse for a while, but it'll be worth it.  And it'll be close to both of our jobs, which will be really helpful since we share our one car.  And yes, I'm working too.  I'm going back to my old job, starting next Tuesday. I'm a little anxious, but the money will be so helpful.  We still haven't decided if we'll go through fertility treatment this next cycle if I'm not pregnant.  I really want to, but our finances are stretched pretty thin and now we have a deposit and first month's rent to pay, and our first two months of fertility fun will soon be catching up with us.  I just got a notice in the mail saying $1600 worth of bills is currently pending at insurance so I expect to see those bills quite soon. It may be the most prudent course to save money for a month and then try again, but my heart isn't always on board with being prudent.  We'll just have to wait and see.

Fingers crossed, everybody, and here's to the best!

It Doesn't Get Much More Honest Than This

I don't have an especially high opinion of myself right now so I've refrained from posting for a while.  I've thought about a new post almost every day, I just haven't brought myself to do it yet.  But here it is, and it's not going to be pretty.  I hope this post won't lessen people's opinions of me but I know I'm going to come off as a whiny, ungrateful, selfish wimp. So be it.  I decided to finally  post some of what I'm thinking and feeling in the hopes that on someone else's dark night, when they feel forsaken, forgotten, or alone, or when they are just really being hard on themselves, they can take some comfort in knowing that they're not the only one out there struggling with these emotions.

It has been a really hard week for me.  I feel like giving up all the time.  I know that this is only my second month of fertility treatments and it's already feeling like it's too much for me.  I don't know how much more I can take of the false hope and vain attempts.  Didn't somebody define insanity as    trying the same thing over and over again and expecting different results? I must be going insane. And how could I be crumbling after only two months? So many women, braver than I, have done this month after month after month.  And they can do so with their heads held high. It is a hard realization when one realizes that they're not really strong, or brave, or courageous.  Why can't I have more fortitude? Why can't I have more faith?

I have to admit that I'm afraid of what next week will bring.  I'm afraid of how I'll react if the blood test is negative again.  I was so devastated last month and I'm embarrassed to admit that I kept having thoughts of hurting myself. I was so mad at my body. I've never had that problem before and I pushed those thoughts aside, but I'm afraid of the possibility of facing them again next week. Why am I so very weak? What is my problem? So many people go through things much worse than I and do so well.

There have been moments of bright sunlight over the past few weeks, but they are just brief pinpricks through the dark ominous clouds.  I have a moment of comfort and faith, but then I forget and go back into despondency. I think my poor husband is at wits end.  He is so good, and faithful, and tries so hard to make me happy but doesn't know what to do to help me. I don't know what to do to help me. I feel like I'm a leech in my marriage.  He works hard all day and then comes home and works to make me happy.  I feel like I have nothing to offer, nothing to bring to the table of our marriage.  The other night when I confessed to him how much I was really struggling, he suggested that I sing my favorite hymn or primary song when I have undesired thoughts.  He said that that was what he does when he has bad days, which surprised me, because he doesn't seem to really have any bad days.  He said that on his own bad days he feels better when he gets home because he focuses on making me happy.  I felt horrendous.  Horrible. How could I have been so self absorbed to not notice that he had bad days? I felt so ashamed. And selfish.

The pressure is on for me to be pregnant because we decided to take May off in order to save money.  We're really feeling the financial strain and adding more stress to our lives is not helping. I know I should get a job.  I feel guilty, always so guilty, that Felipe is working and sacrificing while I'm at home. I'm nervous to add a job to my life right now.  I feel so drained by trying to have a baby that I'm nervous to add a job and its stress to everything.  And then I feel guilty that I'm so drained.  And so weak.  And so inadequate. We don't have much money to get us from now until Felipe's next paycheck, and I'm still reluctant to get a job.  What is wrong with me?  We have always been blessed to have what we need, and so blessed that we can stay with family right now.  We're also blessed that all our bills between now and the next paycheck are paid.  Paying tithing on Sunday was really such an act of faith. And paying a fast offering; it was such a pittance, but it knocked out our checking account by almost 50%. I did feel comfort and my mind was clear as I put the check into the envelope, so why am I so quick to forget?  I know we'll make it but there's nothing like living on the edge that really gets your blood (or tears) flowing.  This has to be a lesson in humility.  Every day I see that we couldn't make it without the Lord's help.  Everyday that's evident to me.  So why am I so quick to forget that the Lord is by my side? I feel like I could line up right next to Laman and Lemuel and get a tongue lashing from Nephi about being quick to forget.

So these are my thoughts.  I'm sorry they're depressing and vulgar and so raw. I'm embarrassed.  And I feel so guilty when people tell me I'm brave.  If only they knew what really went on in my heart as I lie in bed each night.  I know that eventually things will be better, but right now this is how I feel.  There is a dark side to infertility and sometimes I wonder if everyone struggles like I do.  Everyone else in the waiting room at the fertility clinic looks so happy and together.  What is the secret I'm missing?

Felipe has to give me nightly reminders that God has a plan, that we need to have faith, that He loves us and that we have to do our part.  All I want to do is give up.  Why does he have it all so together? Why does everyone have it together? I hope in a week I can learn I'm pregnant and can look back on this post and my feelings and give a slight chuckle and look forward to the future, embarrassed that I ever felt such doubt and had such dark thoughts. And I really hope you don't think less of me, though I do hope you don't think very highly of me.  Just a happy medium will be fine, thank you.