Messy Flowers

Today I got the pleasure of sweeping up the insanely messy leaves from one of our flowering bushes.

Why is it that sometimes the prettiest things in life come with the hardest work? Newborn baby. Clean house. Beautiful wedding Three year old that says "Thank you". Homemade chocolate chip cookies. Is there anything prettier? ...Actually, when I think of my Nana laying beside my Granddaddy as he was passing away, that was beauty.

Six years ago yesterday Andrew proposed to me on Mt. Rainier. Following that engagement has come six years of "work". Communicating when one or both of us would rather zone out on our phone. Cooking the Mexican casserole with the mild Rotel to appease his intolerance for anything spicy. Sad day. Going to Dirt Cheap or some other bargain store with him. (I mysteriously always end up buying more than him.) Is it always easy to respect him, sacrifice for him, like him? Nope. But when I see him cleaning up dinner or playing outside with our girls.... worth it. When he hugs me and knows how I feel without me having to speak... worth it. To have him by side through this journey of life until one of us passes away... totally 100% worth it.

Getting Adelyn to fall asleep at night is painfully hard. I'd rather teach a monkey calculus most days. We are discovering that her love language is quality time. That's a hard one for me. Go figure that God would give me a child like this. Addie's Heaven right now looks something like me and Andrew playing Ring around the Rosie with her beanie babies for HOURS with her. I love my child, but I would rather do a puzzle with her or teach her phonics or read her a story or pick lice out of her hair (ok, I exaggerate... Please God, pretend like I never said that). We find that the more effort we put into truly BEING with her throughout the day, the more likely she is to cooperate and go to sleep. Sticking to the routine, giving her limited choices in the process, and keeping the lights dim an hour before bed also helps... And oh by the way, never have I ever despised the sun going down at 8:45 as much as I do now. Some nights after we've played with "the kids" (Dobie, Twigs, Moosie, and the gang), read 2 or 20 books, let her "read" the books again, sang every soothing song we know, scratched her back in the most sedating way possible, and prayed about every family member then we have to do the inevitable and turn out all lights and begrudgingly lock her door... from the outside. Because goodness knows a child safety lock was no match for her. Her cries are heartbreaking but she eventually gives up and passes out. I question every parenting choice I made during bed time that night and why it was so hard and how it could get better. I just pray that one day all of this hard work will produce a beautiful product of our baby girl falling asleep in oh, let's say 1 hour instead of 2 or 3.

Whether its nurturing a marriage or raising a child (or making cookies), if something is worthwhile then the work we pour into it is worthy our time.

God consistently pours Himself into us. 

Putting a toddler to bed pales in comparison to how long it takes us to learn how to submit to Him. Yet He patiently reads us stories, scratches our backs, sings to us, and reads us the stories again. Painfully he turns out the lights and locks our doors sometimes too. Thank you Lord for believing that we are worthy of your time and transforming us into beautiful flowers... even if we produce the messiest leaves.

Milkshake Time

After staring at the perfect image of my child in my arms and nursing her, the nurses took her out of my arms and handed her over to Andrew to be bathed and weighed. Emmalyn was a healthy 7 lbs, 10 oz. Those cookies and burritos paid off. Following the pleasant after-birth delivery and amidst my annoyingly consistent requests for more pain meds, Dr. Murray got me fixed up...as best she could. I lost a lot of blood during labor and they were having a hard time getting me to stop bleeding so there was a bit of concern on the staff's faces. A nurse asked me if I would have a natural delivery again one day. WHOA Lady, too soon... way too soon. I was in a bit of shock and uncontrollably shaking from the adrenaline. It was all so fast and certainly furious. All I wanted to think about at this point was my baby and my meds... and my milkshake.

My family was allowed to come in and see me and when my dad hugged me, all the fear and emotions of the experience just poured out in tears. Don't get me wrong, it was a beautiful, miraculous, grace filled experience but intensely painful and frightening too. The family took turns swooning over sweet Emme and talking about how they couldn't believe how fast she arrived.... you're welcome people. After the bulk of the family left and it was just me, Andrew, and my parents we all sat around and enjoyed a celebratory Chik Fil A milkshake, the delicious nectar of the gods. If Emme got to enjoy a milkshake after the experience straight from Momma Cow then we should too, right?

Emmalyn's birth story

Sunday, January 11^th

I woke up at 4:30 with fairly strong, regular contractions about every 10 minutes or so. I decided just to let Andrew sleep and get I got in the bath. It was super relaxing and I was feeling great and excited. I texted mom and Brooke (doula) to come over in an hr or two. The contractions were not super strong though and by the time Brooke and mom arrived they had almost stopped. There was no point in mom walking around nervously and Brooke analyzing each minor contraction so I just told them to go on home since labor seemed to be stalled. Mom took Addie home with her and Andrew and I settled in. I was a little frustrated thinking that labor might not happen that day after all. Andrew ran out to borrow a camera lens from JD and Krissy around lunch time. He got back around 1. I watched Pitch Perfect 2 (random movie) and just relaxed.

Bedroom zone

Around 2 pm (after lunging, pumping...yes, pumping, sitting on the ball, stretching, getting in various positions) my contractions started coming back. I took another bath. I camped out in our bedroom and listened to music with the lights low to try to get in "the zone". This is much of how I envisioned and had read about the labor process. I was so grateful to have this quiet reflection time pretty much all to myself. Around 4 pm they got stronger and I asked Andrew to come in the room and help me through them. They were still far apart and kind of sporadic (9 min, 15 min, 7 min, etc.)  
 
I did a technique called abdominal lifts through about 5 contractions because it was supposed to make the contractions more effective. Those lifts were no joke. Soon after I did them, my contractions got really strong even though not much closer together. It helped if Andrew counted down during each one. I could still walk around and had plenty of time to walk or relax in between each one so I felt comfortable being at home still. We told Brooke that we might need her in an hour or so.

Go time!

Around 5 pm I had a really strong contraction followed by a pop which felt like a punch to my lady zone. It really scared me because I didn't know what it was. Once my water started leaking quickly figured it out. I sat on the potty just to make sure I wasn't peeing. When the next strong contraction hit and the fluid gushed out even more, I told Andrew to get the bags and LETS GO! I was trying to stay calm but could feel the panic rising up in me. The contractions were on top of each other and super intense. I may have been a tad snippy with Andrew. Thankfully the car ride was only 10 minutes to the hospital. I gripped the seat and just tried to hang on. I kept saying soon, this will be over soon.

No Time for a Burger, Dear

We arrived to the hospital and had the good fortune to get to fill out papers, answer questions and wait in the ER lobby for a labor nurse to come get us. After thiry super relaxing, glorious minutes of sitting in a wheelchair in my own amniotic fluid, the nurse finally wheeled me up to our room. I felt paralyzed by the pain and fear. Bless the nurse's heart that was attempting to get me to put on a gown, lie in the bed, get an IV inserted, and answer questions. I mean, isn't that what anyone who is about to shove a human out her body wanting to do?!  I may or may not have been a bit snippy at my Mom's well-meaning attempts to comfort me at this point too. I suppose that's why she decided to walk out and update the family instead of staying by my precious side. When I finally got in the bed the nurse checked me and said I was 10 cm and ready to push! They paged Dr. Murray and a few other nurses. I was laying on my side and hugging the side of the bed. God help the person trying to get me to lay on my back. No ma'am. No way. I wasn't sure where anyone really was at this point. The side of the hospital bed was my only lifeline at this stage. Since no one realized that the baby was literally on her way out, my mother-in-law was about to bring in a hamburger to my husband. Sorry dear, no time for a burger. You'll just have to take one for the team. 

Push it real good...

It was push time and I was scared... no terrified! No time for the epidural. This is what I wanted, right? Why did I ever think that was a good idea?! Dr. Murray arrived and everyone told me I needed to push. All the books I read made it sound like pushing would be a relieving, uncontrollable urge. The only urge I had was to clinch the hospital bed and pray that the pain would end magically without me having to push my sweet baby out. Intense burning pain doesn't quite sum up how the pain felt. Amidst the instructions for me to keep pushing I sternly but politely (I am southern after all) said "I JUST NEED TO PAUSE!" Dr. Murray calmly replied that babies don’t normally like to hang out in the canal too long and that the only way to end the pain was to push. It was time to face the inevitable. The prospect of ending the pain and keeping my baby safe motivated me to get this job DONE. With a blood-curdling scream from the depths of my soul, I pushed and pushed. After a few screams of “LORD HELP ME”, you were out! Following your head, the rest of your body really did slide out quickly like they say it happens. They put you right on my chest and I cried with joy and overwhelming relief. You let out some strong cries and your little purple body started turning pink slowly and surely. PRAISE GOD. Definitely one of the best moments of my entire life. You were born at 6:30 pm… just one hour after we had arrived at the hospital. I'm pretty sure my first words were "Ok, please give me all the drugs you can now." followed shortly by "Why is she so purple?".