The Best Day

I can't tell you how many stories I've heard about the delivery experience and how awful it was...or how painful it was...or how long it was...or how the epidural wasn't effective...or...you get the drift, I'm sure. I don't think people share those stories because they want other women to be scared of the process and I certainly don't think they see it as a means of competing to win the most sympathy. I do, however, think that it is therapeutic to share such an emotional and unique experience with others so I tend to listen to them...My story was not like any of the above mentioned scenarios. If I could bottle my delivery experience and give it away to every other pregnant woman on earth I would do just that.

My due date was April 17th, 2009. Everything had gone as planned. I had a smooth pregnancy. My quad screen came back normal. I (eventually:) passed my glucose test. We were pretty positive that we were having a girl. We had passed our parenting class (even got a certificate to prove it). And, we even had the car seat properly inspected by a car seat specialist at the hospital four days before we had Sophie. By my account...we were as ready as this girl was going to be. Our friends and family threw us a beautiful shower two weeks before our due date and two days later we had gone in for a check up. By this point we were going every two weeks. Things were moving along...but slowly. So, I initiated the conversation with my doctor about inducing me if I had not gone into labor by that day. She was all for it! Woohoo, let's get this party started! That was on April 6th, one week before we had Sophie.

So, the plan was that I would check into the hospital on Easter Sunday at 6pm and then induction would start at 6 am the next morning. Good plan. We were able to get together with our family for an afternoon Easter dinner. It was great. Our parents, the Rawls, and Clem and Pam were there and my sister and Jordy were on their way down from St. Louis. The calvalry had been called in and they were ready to help us celebrate! The most difficult part about that day was not realizing that I would soon be in labor, but leaving Bama, because I knew I wouldn't see her for at least two days...and I knew that she would no longer be the only "child"...she had been with me for six years and I knew that from that point on her life would be changed, too. So after a hormone induced cry session after leaving her at my in-laws, we were on our way to the hospital. (You will hear me refer to my husband as a good sport often...and this was one of those times).

We had toured the hospital a few weeks prior to D Day so we knew what to expect. We were given a brand new labor/delivery room that was awesome, except for the sleeping apparatus for the guest, aka, my wonderfully supportive husband. But he survived. One of the coolest things about the room was my bed...the picture on the side of the control panel was of a preggo stick person! I know, I know, I'm easily amused. The room was huge...and we knew ahead of time that there was a three person limit during delivery. But they were very cool about visitors. And I had plenty! Sunday night, after we were all set up and just in "hurry up and wait mode", I got a call from some good friends who were at Coldstone Creamery. "Want some ice cream?" Yes! Tiz and Erin (and Robyn and Shags who waited in the car) brought us delicious ice cream cupcakes. There were several left over so really it was the best-case scenario...I got ice cream in the delivery room and the staff did, too...so they were really nice to me!

The nurse woke me up at about 5:30 am and the D Day plan was in full effect. If you're not familiar with the induction plan, it's pretty basic. There are a series of steps, the first (for most) is the application of a substance to thin the cervix. This is done the night before every four hours. Then, the next morning the petocin is started to bring on contractions. For me, my plan included the ever popular "E" word before the petocin. The "E" word correlates to my irregular digestive system...so I'm sure you can figure that out. So glad I opted for that. Although I will tell you...that was the worst part of my delivery experience! Everything was smooth sailing after that...no kidding!

My nurses were all terrific. I had opted for my epidural as soon as they started the petocin. So I really only felt contractions for about 10 minutes. And let me tell you, they were enough. My anesthesiologist was well, how shall I say it...God-like. He was in and out of my room in under ten minutes. I didn't really feel pain. And beyond that, it began working immediately. And worked until post delivery (as my legs fell off the bed more than once). I was able to experience the entire delivery without pain and in the presence of my family and an occasional brave friend!

The first six centimeters came somewhat slowly in relation to the last four. By noon I was only at 4cm but I had Sophie at 2:03! The best part about it was that I had my husband, mother and sister right there with me. It was so very special. And other than realizing that my doctor was M.I.A. and my nurse was delivering two babies at the same time, everything was smooth...we did find my doctor who literally ran in the room to catch Sophie and my nurse called for backup so she could stay with me. It all worked out. We also had some awesome music playing for our listening enjoyment...a blend of Van Morrison, Bob Marley, and other favs. "Don't worry 'bout a thing" was actually "the" song when Sophie was born. How fitting is that?

Sophie's cord was wrapped around her neck, which was a little scary, but Dr. Callison wasn't worried about it. She was stealth and before I knew it, Sophie's color was good and she was letting us know she did not appreciate the bright lights. She was perfect. Dr. Callison told us back in December that she thought I would have about an eight pounder. And before Sophie was born everyone was guessing, as well. Dr. Callison's guess was 7 lbs. 14 oz. before she even saw her. She was 7 lbs. 15.7 oz. Is she good, or what!

There are so many minute details that I remember about that day...like how antsy I was to get up to the room to see everyone...only to be a bit overwhelmed to see everyone...how our pediatrician kicked everyone out of my room when he made his rounds...how moved I was the first time Sophie and I bonded through nursing...how nervous I was to hold her in fear that I would break her...how beautiful it was to see Wyatt holding his brand new baby girl...how proud our parents were of their granddaughter...but most importantly, how thankful I was to God for the gifts of friendship, family and love that he had given us on this special day.

Thanks to everyone who was there with us, either in person or in spirit. I truly believe that Sophie knows that she is loved by all of you. I know that Wyatt and I do.

Ankles, Cankles and Thankles

Being pregnant was the most amazing (and enjoyable) experience I've ever had...actually, I take that back - giving birth to Sophie was even more so. But when you're talking about such a long period of time to be accumulating anxiety, excitement, fear and unfortunately, weight... I think I was very lucky to say that overall it was great.

I think it's funny how everyone refers to pregnancy as nine months in duration, when in reality, it is ten. Four extra weeks, thirty extra days...Those days can seem like eternity when you are so big that it is nearly impossible to heave yourself off of the couch because you are so big. But, I took all of the physical effects in stride for the most part and tried to focus on the fact that I was sharing my body with another human being.

The first time I felt her move, at 19 weeks, was spectacular. I had read so many different articles and books about feeling movement and how difficult it was to describe it. But when I felt it, I immediately knew that it was our first formal introduction. I would lie awake at night just waiting for our next interaction. And after she became super crazy active baby she became our entertainment most evenings. We would sit on the couch and just laugh at Sophie's limbs protruding from my stomach. Toward the end she had a pattern of movement and I separated my belly into quadrants so that I could report where she was at any given time (and for the record she enjoyed the upper left quadrant most days).

Getting pregnant seemed to be the biggest challenge for us - but once we were there I was blessed with good health. My biggest struggles were nausea and swollen feet and ankles. My doctor prescribed me Zofran for the nausea and it worked wonders. My nausea lasted up to the day that I had Sophie, but the meds kept it at bay. Eventually, I only had to take one in the morning and I was set for the rest of the day. I remember asking Dr. Callison if she was concerned that I was still taking them after the first trimester and her response was that she took them multiple times every day when she was pregnant and that I would be just fine. Ok. Sounds good!

The swollen feet and ankles were definately a progression. In fact, I was down to one pair of shoes toward the end of my pregnancy...black patent ballet flats that were so stretched that the sides of the shoes touched the ground. Yikes! My only saving grace was that Spring was approaching and I could begin wearing flip flops the last few weeks. If nothing else, it was a good topic of conversation. I was definitely sporting the cankles for a while. It was awesome to see my ankles shrink again two weeks post delivery. I didn't care if my butt was still huge, I had my ankles back!

One thing I loved about being pregnant was that so many women empathized with me and supported me through it. And for the most part, people saved the war stories for the actual "delivery story" and focused mostly on trying to help me feel more normal. And when your body has been taken hostage by another person, feeling normal is as good as it gets! One friend of mine told me that when she was preggo she didn't have cankles, she had thankles! And when I failed my first glucose test, there were several other friends who told me that it would all be ok, they'd been there, too. (I know, I failed it...but it was the week after Christmas! That's not exactly fair!).

Speaking of delivery war stories, I don't have one, and I can't wait to write about my awesome experience. From the sounds of it, we all need to hear more of these!

Aw, nuts...and bugs!

My dad gave me the nickname, Peanut, at a very young age. He said that it took forever for my hair to grow and in the meantime it was hard not to focus on my oddly-shaped noggin. He still calls me Peanut every now and then. So, naturally, when we told my parents we were going to have a baby he had to coin a nickname for her. After looking at the first ultrasound picture at eight weeks, Dad concluded that she looked like a cashew.
A few weeks later, I got a message from some good friends that they had the perfect name for her until we knew if she was a boy or a girl. Flip Flop. And considering I was in full-blown morning sickness - all day- it seemed fitting...because that's what she was doing!
Back in December, as I was journaling about a doctor's appointment that I had had, and after we had chosen the name Sophie, I began referring to her as Sophiebug. Just kind of rolls off your tongue. Wyatt and I never really thought we would get caught up in the silly nicknames that so many parents give their children. But that was before we had one of our own! Now I can say that we call her Sophiebug more than Sophie! Never say never, right?

More time

Tonight I went to a movie that I wasn't ready to see. A good friend gave me the book to read and I couldn't put it down a couple of weeks ago. We talked about how the ending in the book and the ending in the movie were very different and I thought that I wanted to see it. I will say that the movie was done very well...and it wasn't the movie, per se, that was so difficult, but the parallels in the subject matter with more than one member of my family. I just couldn't stop thinking about them and how much I love them. And how every day for them is about making the choice to be couragious, optimistic and happy, despite everything else.

I also couldn't stop thinking about how much I love my daughter and my husband and how important they are to me. My life is forever changed because of them and I couldn't fathom having them not a part of it. I couldn't wait to get home and wrap them in my arms and give them both a million kisses. But when I got home Sophie was asleep and dad was worn out from his night with her. She apparently felt the need to cry from the time I got to the stop sign until about 20 minutes before I got home. She hasn't had a night like that in several weeks. So instead I krept into her room and kissed her on the forehead and came to relax in bed. I've never been so excited to nurse her when she wakes up in about three hours!

This was Sophie's third week in daycare and it has been very hard not only to be away from her but to put her life in another's hands while I'm not with her. But I'm starting to realize that she is always in someone else's hands. We all are. This is something that as a new mother I am struggling with but I am trying very hard to embrace.

So, perhaps tomorrow I'll reflect on my awesome journey through pregnancy, starting with "Cashew" and "Flip Flop"...but for now, I'm going to go stare at my handsome husband.

The EPT

So, needless to say when you are trying to get pregnant you think really hard about investing in Proctor and Gamble stock because you buy so many pregnancy and ovulation tests...we had gone through dozens. Ok, I had gone through dozens. Wyatt is so much more patient than I am...one reason I love him.

So, we had taken a trip to St. Louis and had returned on a Sunday. That evening, I was tired. But given that we had just driven seven hours home that didn't seem odd. But I also felt like something was 'different'. But you know when you are trying to get pregnant you feel 'different' every month...which of course is wishful thinking. But this time I really did feel 'different.' The next day I had come home from work and had decided that I would take the last ept I had in the cabinet. After all, why not? It was three days before I should have taken it but the instructions cleary say that "levels can be detected up to five days before". So by my account, it still had the potential of being 98% accurate.

These tests have come a long way. I think I read somewhere that half of women who take pregnancy tests read them wrong. Now, I would like to think that I would be in the percentage that can read the line correctly...but just in case...I purchased the full-proof, can't get it wrong because it says the words "pregnant" or "not pregnant" on the screen-test. And there it was. Confirmation. This girl was not crazy. And she did feel 'different'. Because she was, indeed, preggers. Yes!

Now, of course, I had planned for months how I would break the news to my wonderful and optimistic husband. I had bought a card that was perfect. I new just what I would say. It was going to be so romantic and articulate. Right. I ran out of the bathroom in my underwear with ept in hand. After Wyatt brought me back down to earth, and after two more positive tests, a call was placed to my doctor. And the journey began.

Nothing is worth more than this day. - Goethe

My husband Wyatt and I were engaged on September 2, 2005 and married exactly one year later. We began trying to get pregnant in the Spring of 2007 but later learned that it wasn't going to be as easy as we thought. Finally in July, 2008, after a couple of surgeries including having my gall bladder removed, we learned that we were going to have a baby. It was surreal. More on that later...
In July of 2007 I bought a journal that I would record my thoughts and feelings about being pregnant and being a mother...if and when that day came. My hope was that one day my child might come to know how she came into the world and just how much love I had for someone I'd not yet met. The cover reads "Nothing is worth more than this day." A quote from Goethe. I thought it would symbolize the day we learned we were pregnant. And then I thought it would be about the day we found out that we were having a girl. And then I thought it would be about the day we brought her into this world. And since we've gotten to know Sophie day by day, I've learned that it's truly about everday we have with her, because everyday is a gift.
So I begin with taking a retrospective approach to where we are today. And that is with a beautiful, funny, adorable, and perfect 14 week old daughter. Her name is Sophie Grace. Sophie means "Wisdom" and Grace means "Gift from God". She is every bit of both.