Oh I'm Having a Boy!

It’s no secret that the bundle of joy in my belly is a boy. His name is Grayson. If you know me even from a distance then you already know that. Why am I bringing it up like its brand new information? Well because sometimes it catches me off guard. As if I haven’t known for months.

When I was pregnant with my daughter Halle, I day dreamed about how she would look and how she would behave. I really wanted her to have my nose. I also would have made a deal with the devil if it meant she would have my toes (no such luck unfortunately). But appearance wise, that was all that I really quote-un-quote “cared” about. I most importantly wanted her to be like me on the inside. I wanted her to inherit my kind personality. So far so good; she has a very sweet disposition. She listens well and her teachers always comment on how well behaved she is.

So what do I want for my son? Well my toes of course. Except this time it’s not as serious because Garrick’s feet aren’t awful. I just happen to have cute feet. Hear me tooting my own horn there? Other than feet, can he please be just like my husband? Obviously I adore the man or I wouldn’t have married him.

These things aren’t truly important of course. What matters is that Grayson is born healthy. This just came to mind because of a game that we played at my friends baby shower last year. We all had to guess which features she wanted for her son; mom’s or dad’s. It would be an easy win for someone at my shower because only one answer would be about me, the toes. Otherwise I hope he has dad’s beautiful skin, gorgeous eyes, and hopefully a freckle on the nose too. But what are the odds of that?

I hope he is charismatic like his dad and can pick up pretty much any sport and play it like a professional. I also hope he has good manners (I will be all over this one) and grows up to be a true gentleman like dad. He will open doors for a lady at every opportunity like his daddy does.

Halle, Isaiah, and Grayson are truly blessed to be raised by us. We don’t have much, but we have a ton of love to go around. We will never be at a loss of love and affection which matters more than material things. My daughter will know how she deserves to be treated because of the examples she will see in our household, and my boys will know how to respect a woman when they grow up for the same reason. I’m so happy I took every single good and bad step in life to land where I am today.

To VBAC or not to VBAC…

…That is the question.

I didn’t get to decide if my first child would be born via c-section or not. Mind you back then I would have said no to it anyway. I didn’t pay attention to any of the facts, statistics or stories about a c-sec because well… I plain wasn’t going to have one. End of story! I was/am so damn terrified of surgery. I was so sure that since I’ve always been queen average/good health that I wouldn’t need to know what it meant to have a c-sec.

Well, my world went upside down not long after I had the epidural. I finally was able to relax because the pain had dissipated and I fell asleep watching my then favorite show, CSI. I was startled awake by a swarm of doctors and nurses who needed me to rotate, move, sit, and turn on all fours before they calmed down. Apparently my baby girl just couldn’t handle the stress of contractions. What felt like ten seconds later I was under bright lights, strapped to a table, and feeling a tugging at my uterus which apparently was them opening me for delivery. I “blinked” and there was my baby. All clean and dressed in her father’s arms. I say blinked because I didn’t know I was going to be knocked out and then brought back to consciousness.

 I will spare you readers the mourning I felt for the birth of my baby. Needless to say, it’s been six and a half years and I still can’t get over the loss of my baby’s birth. It wasn’t the loss of being able to try pushing; it was the loss of hearing her cry at her entrance to this world. It was the loss of seeing her naked and gooey the moment she was born.

So naturally you would think that this time around I would OF COURSE want a VBAC (vaginal birth after cesarean). Well you would be wrong to assume that. As scary as my memories of a c-sec are, I still am scared of a VBAC. I’ve done one, I haven’t done the other. Not to mention that I could attempt a VBAC and still need an emergency c-sec; this is more risky than just having a planned c-sec to begin with.

So then I think, ok have a c-sec. You can pick the day and time he’s born. No worrying about if he can handle the birth. I get to have a safe entrance for him. Well that doesn’t account for me. This would be the second surgery in the same place. Bring on the scar tissue! I also remember that recovery for me was the equivalent of being ran over by a dump truck every other day. It hurt to laugh, cough, sneeze, or even move. I couldn’t get out of bed on my own because it required too much stomach muscles. All I wanted to do was soak in a hot bath and I couldn’t because of my healing incision.

Back to VBAC we go. But hey, a VBAC isn’t your average vaginal birth. It means that you cannot be induced. If you go too far past the due date, it’s a c-sec for you. You also can’t attempt a home birth or water birth (neither appeal to me but it’s just another fact). I regretted just lying in my hospital bed all day the first time I was in labor so I planned to this time walk a lot and only sit for as long as my body would allow. Well a VBAC requires extra monitoring so you can’t walk around! My doctor did say I could sit on the exercise ball in my room. It just has to be right by my monitors. Sounds fun to me!

All in all, I am set to have a VBAC birth. This is as long as Grayson naturally comes into the world before November 16^th. If he does not then we will have a c-sec. I just can’t give birth to Grayson at Thanksgiving when both of his siblings will be on holiday in their other homes. It would just break my heart.

So I will soon sign a form saying that I understand the risks of having a VBAC and that I have discussed them with my doctor. One of these named risks is the 1% chance that my uterus could rupture during birth at which time they could not do much to save baby. Yep! Sign me up for that! Both forms of birth come with their risks but the VBAC carries less risk and offers a healthier shot for me and Grayson.

Here’s to a happy healthy VBAC! Please Grayson; don’t keep me waiting past my birthday. ;)

She's Almost a Housewife

By definition my friend Aleigha will not be a housewife when she gets married. She’ll take her honeymoon and like many modern wives, will return to work. She will work outside and inside the home of course. Mom’s/Wives never get a break!

I had a great time planning and executing her bridal shower. I admit that I love being a Matron of Honor. It’s exciting to assist the bride in her planning. I spent a year planning my own and then immediately began on hers. It’s been a fun ride. Much more enjoyable since I am not the one paying this time.

With a little more money I could have really ran with this shower theme. I had a million ideas stewing in my head but couldn’t really execute everything I had envisioned. Lucky for me, the bride-to-be didn’t find the event lacking.

Housewife Invite

The games were kept simple. To start we played “Famous Wives” game. Everyone had the name of a famous wife pinned to their back and they had to ask other guests questions that would help them guess who their famous wife was. I was the last to guess correctly despite having made the cards. It was funny to learn what people around me thought of my wife, Madonna. It was great for mingling at the start of the party.

We progressed to playing “The Worst Chore” game. Everyone writes their least favorite chore and why they dislike it so. Then the host reads the answer by saying “Julie hates sex because….” Some of the answers were “It’s never my mess” and “it always takes too long.

To wrap up the games we of course played toilet paper bridal gowns. How can you not right? It’s just what you do. Unfortunately for the guests, the pregnant host (me) forgot to bring the game prizes. Pregnant brain maybe? Well it was fun despite that and no one complained about missing a prize. 

All in all, it was a success. We enjoyed playing housewife.

Registry Card

 

Losing You...

A year ago, I lost my second child. I’ll never know why. It took a long time to stop being so angry about the unfairness of it all. I’ve never felt so much loss and pain in my life before. There truly isn’t an adequate way to describe this experience. The crazy thing to consider is that I didn’t meet this baby, nor did I know if it was a he or she. All I knew was that it was my baby and therefore it meant the whole world to me. Losing my baby was harder than losing family members that I knew for years.

There are a few things that pulled me out of the darkness; the first one being the support of my husband. He immediately turned his focus to my physical health, ensuring that I would be OK physically through it all. After assurance that I would be ok to travel, he took me on a road trip to California where we spent a week away from home. I got to see my family for a week and play tricks on my mind with daily distractions. But at night he held me and let me quietly cry for as long as I needed to.

It didn’t end that week. Random bouts of crying occurred over several months. It wasn’t just a baby commercial or my friends continuing through their pregnancies around me. I could be walking down the stairs and randomly be hit with grief. I have to thank everyone around me who tried to support me. I say tried because you can’t really help someone in that position. I understood what my friends and family were saying and that they were trying to support me, but really only time helps. “At least you know your body is capable of having a baby because you have Halle as proof.” Yes, I did know that I could have a baby, but it still hurt to lose this one. “It just wasn’t meant to be. There was a reason this baby couldn’t be born.” Yes I know, but it still hurts to lose this one. Not to mention that mothers on crack deliver babies. If they can, every healthy woman should too. I know this isn’t the case in society which breaks my heart. Thank goodness for adoption.

Another thing that helped me heal was to just accept that I was sad. I didn’t try to tell people I was over it. I didn’t tell myself to suck it up and get over it. I let myself deal through the anger and the sadness. I think sometimes we try to belittle ourselves. Tell ourselves that we need to get over it already. This is not true. Everyone heals on their own terms. Embrace it; know that it will get easier eventually. Until then, ride it out.

My children of course helped me too. You can’t cry all day in front of your kids. Plus they wanted to know why suddenly there wasn’t a sibling in my belly. Where did it go? I was careful with my words. Gentle truths as I like to call it. I didn’t drag religion into it and I didn’t discourage it either because I know that they both hear things from their other parent’s houses. I softly explained that sometimes babies aren’t meant to be and we have to try again. Their delicate minds at the time didn’t ask me where I put the baby or how I’d get another one. They did what they do best, love me and make me smile just by being them.

So it’s been a year, am I fully recovered? No. I don’t think I ever will be. Maybe people think I should be over it especially since I am pregnant now. Well like all mothers who have lost a baby know, one child can never replace another child. I am thrilled to be pregnant with Grayson and I know he will fulfill joy in our family. A piece of me will just always be scarred by losing my baby. Through my healing process I hadn’t thought about reaching a definite end point where it no longer hurt. That being said I am going to mention something from the movie “What to Expect When You’re Expecting”. If you haven’t seen it, it comes out on DVD on September 11. Stop reading here if you don’t want a spoiler.

When I saw the movie “What to Expect When You’re Expecting”, I unexpectedly realized that the pain doesn’t go away, it just hides inside you. I saw it long after its original release because I don’t like Jennifer Lopez or Cameron Diaz. However, I got over that and decided to try it out. It looked funny after all. I’m so glad I made that choice. It is now one of my favorite movies. I have to give a huge thank you to Anna Kendrick for her performance in the movie. I loved her in Twilight because her character Jessica is just so amusing. But in this movie, her portrayal of a girl who miss-carried a baby really touched me. As soon as she said “I’m bleeding”, realization hit me of where the movie was headed. I wasn’t prepared and I lost all train of thought. Tears fell on their own accord in streams. She lies in a hospital bed when the doctor comes to talk to them. No words are spoken in the scene, but words weren’t needed. The emotions are felt even without them speaking. Anna also did a great job displaying the irrational outbursts and over all anger after it’s “over”.

As I quietly cried to myself, suddenly remembering my own experience of losing a baby and being in an emergency room, my baby Grayson kicked me in the womb. Pure coincidence some could say, but I couldn’t help but laugh. Here I was, crying over the baby I lost while my third baby was thriving inside of my body. He kicked me back to the present. He reminded me that there’s a light at the end of a dark tunnel which in this case is him. I laughed at the irony and quietly thanked him.

I’ll never know why I lost a baby. Women all over might not know why they lost one or more of their own. What I do know is that I survived it. I know that I have an amazing husband who didn’t know how to help me, but he still put aside his own grief to shoulder some of mine. It isn’t a tragedy either of us wanted so early in our marriage but it oddly brought us close in a way we didn’t know was possible. I know that I have two precious kids in my life and one on the way. I know that I won’t ever fully let go of my pain, but I accept that. Every day that I get to wake up and spend in this world with my family is a good day.

To my baby that I didn't get to meet: I loved you immediately, and I always will. ~Mommy

Are You Afraid of the Dark?

Two nights ago my six year old had a tough time getting to sleep. I returned to her room about three times to assure her that her closet was closed, her night light was on, and that Dad and I were in the house so there was nothing to fear. Nothing could hurt her. It can be tiring on a parent to handle this because after all we’re “all-knowing” and so sensible, that we just KNOW there’s nothing to fear. Not to mention I’m walking up the stairs each time which is more tiring now since I am pregnant. All of that aside, I was patient with her. She is a young girl and I can remember how it felt to be her twenty years ago.

When I was six, and even younger actually, I was afraid of unknown things at night. I thought someone might climb through my window. I don’t know how I came up with that so young. I hadn’t seen anyone do it before. I also feared Chucky. I saw his evil doll face on TV when someone was watching the movie and never recovered from it. My parents wouldn’t sleep in my bed and I couldn’t always climb into theirs so I would sneak into my older brother’s. I don’t know if this was allowed right away or if I had to sneak in there enough times until my mom caved. I guess I’ll ask her about that. Eventually though I remember that I’d just get tucked in and kissed good night in there and skip the charade of me sleeping in my bed. We’d talk and play games in bed before going to sleep. Somehow having my brother who was only two years older than me as protection sure made me feel safe. Plus I remember thinking that if someone came in the window they would get to him first. Oh my poor unsuspecting brother. =]

Needless to say, I sympathize with my daughter’s nighttime fears. I hope other parents do too because after all, they’re innocent helpless little people dependent on us. It’s our job to make them feel safe in this dangerous world. It is with this in mind that I got out of bed four more times around 2:00am when she would come tap me and say she was scared. I’d spend a minute or two in there tucking her in and calming her before going back to bed. She’d try about ten minutes alone before waking me again. Finally I decided to sit on her bed for fifteen minutes until she knocked out. I wasn’t getting sleep in my bed anyway. She looked so sweet and relaxed. It was sweet to my soul to see that my presence had soothed her. I snuck out and she stayed asleep.

So I finally get to go back to my bed! I apologized to my husband who wakes up every time I leave the bed to check if I’m ok (sweet man). But here’s the kicker, I couldn’t go to sleep for hours! Three hours to be exact because his watch beeps at each hour and I counted the damn beeps. There is nothing more frustrating when you can’t sleep than to know just how long you’ve been flipping around and fighting to lose consciousness. I was close several times however Grayson, my unborn, likes to party in the womb at night. He kept kicking and flailing his arms at the same time. So strong in fact that my belly bounced on the mattress. Was he scared too? Dude, you live inside my body. How much safer does it get?

The next morning my daughter wakes up happy as can be. Like always she smiles and starts the day with little troubles. It’s lucky that she was happy because mom was a grumpy and exhausted beast that morning. I wanted nothing to do with daylight. I drove her to school then right back home to bed where I slept through my class and later went to work. Lucky it was a day that I start work at noon.

So now we’re through the day, and my girl is staying at grandma’s house. I am prepped and ready for a good solid night sleep. Well, what a nice thought that was. Instead I had a vivid nightmare of my own. It was so realistic and about something I subconsciously always fear. Because of how real it felt I couldn’t shake the feelings when I realized I was awake. I had to tell my husband who realized I’d startled myself awake, how I had a terrible dream and needed to cuddle. It took me another hour to fall asleep again at which time I had a different bad dream. I love sleep! Why is sleep torturing me? It should be a time of peace. Why would the mind play mean tricks?

I am fortunate that without questions my husband comforted me. Much like a parent comforts a frightened child. My fears were silly and I knew it but I still wanted assurance from my own protector in this dangerous world. I am blessed that he knew that and didn’t tease me or ask me any questions. He took great care in the morning to assure me while I was getting ready for work too. Looks like kids aren’t the only ones who get scared at night. The “all-knowing” parents do too.