A Baby Story...

For some odd reason I didn't consider writing out Roma's birth story. Since I was having a scheduled cesarean it didn't feel like there was much to tell other than I went in, they numbed me and then a few cuts and badda bing badda boom we had a BABY!! Thankfully I have awesome friends who remind me that no matter how a baby comes into this world, the story and adventure is still unique and wonderful.

The night before my c-section Hector and I told Eliana we were taking her out for a special farewell dinner. We had spent that whole weekend saying goodbye to our current family dynamic and opening up the door for the new one that was coming. It wasn't a sad celebration, but we wanted her to understand that it wasn't just going to be the three of us anymore. That another addition was coming and that she had big responsibilities ahead of her.

We ended up at BJ's because anything worth celebrating or saying farewell to deserves pizookie! (If you don't know what I'm talking about I am so so sorry). Oddly, I was calm and full of peace the whole night. We put her to bed knowing it would be our last time the concept of just the three of us existed. It was bittersweet. We read a story, said our prayers and then said goodnight.

The next morning I got up, showered, shaved my legs, straightened my hair, put on makeup and glitter lotion (yes, sparkly glitter lotion all over my belly) and headed to the hospital. I thought at some point I'd be wigging out. But as was my experience with natural labor during E's birth I had hit that focused, inner-calm-mentality. I was ready. I was going to do this. And I would stop thinking about the giant ass needle that would soon penetrate my spine.

We checked in, signed a billion papers and then kicked it for two hours. My sister showed up in just enough time to provide comic relief via music since my Dr. was thirty minutes late. Every minute that ticked by after my originally scheduled 11:30am appt was another minute I should've been closer to being done, but was unfortunately just sitting in a hospital gown waiting... and waiting... and waiting. The needle growing larger by the second.

Finally, when my Dr. showed I had to be ready. It was now or never. My anesthesiologist joked about running away... little did he know how much I actually wanted to.

As they wheeled me into the bright white operating room, with that wonderful fresh sterile scent all I could think about was the bug bite I found on my butt that morning and whether or not the anesthesiologist would be able to see it when I turned onto my side. I even considered putting cover up on it, but thought a dark creamy spot would look more awkward than a red irritated dot. Plus, I'm sure he had seen worse butts. Or hoping he had seen worse butts. The likelihood was high, right?

So there we were. A dozen bodies running about this bright white room with absolutely no concern that they would be cutting several layers deep into my abdomen and then pulling out a baby. I mean we went into the room as a team of 12 and would be exiting with one extra! They all seemed so calm, chill and routine. I wanted to scream. Make sure none of them had been drinking the night before. Ask my Dr. if she was sure she was prepared to do this.

And then I was in the fetal position, legs pulled up into my chest, wondering just how much this was all going to hurt. How awkward not feeling would feel. Would I be able to sense my breathing. Would I have an adverse reaction like vomiting all over myself or would I not respond to the medicine and feel everything. I racked my brain with questions as the anesthesiologist gave me a local and then told me the needle was in my back and I would feel the anesthesia immediately.

I couldn't stop picturing my spine with some six inch needle sticking out. And then I went numb. Not everywhere and not all at once, but like falling asleep on the couch with a cool breeze on a summer day. One minute you're awake, the next you're blinking slowly and then boom you're asleep.

They rolled me over onto my back and the entire room was moving quickly, but in slow motion. My movements felt exaggerated and heavy, but the dr's, nurses and assistants all buzzed around like bee's. At first I felt great, but then I felt numb. I did not like not feeling. It's not for me.

They called for my husband to join me and thirty seconds later were announcing that the baby was coming.

Baby? Huh? You've already cut me?!

I didn't feel a thing obviously, but at that moment I told my husband I didn't want anymore. I could feel pressure and tugging and yanking, but no pain. And yet I hated this non-feeling more than I hated feeling. It was weird and hard to process.

And then someone yelled baby. And my husband's looking over this blue curtain in order to yell out the sex and all I could do was blink slowly and tell myself it would all be over soon.

"Hey dad want to tell me what it is you see?" yelled one of the Dr's.
"GIRL! It's a girl!" he replied.

The anesthesiologist was rubbing my forehead, asking me how I felt. If I was okay etc. I just nodded. He asked me what her name was and all I did was cry. It's all I could do. I took in two deep breathes and tried to sound out her name, but no words would come to my lips. Only tears. Warm, wet, happy tears fell from the corners of my eyes as my husband looked down at me and said, "Her name is Roma. Roma Eve."

I smiled as he was whisked away to cut the cord and I was left numb on the table so they could stitch me back up. I couldn't see anything, but I heard her cries. Her big, loud, boisterous cries that screamed out, "Hey! Put me back in!!"

After a few moments her wailing subsided and my sister was brought in while my husband left with Roma to be weighed and measured. She held my hand and asked me if I was okay. I nodded again. I could feel them working on me more now. "We're almost done Melissa. Just a few more minutes." I blinked and looked at the bright lights in a haze.

Almost done. She's out. I'm being stitched up. Almost done.

My sister continued to rub my hand, asking me questions and watching as the surgeons did their work (she likes that stuff). She watched them stitch me back up after delivering Eliana, only it was in a more southerly location. It made sense to have her here for this.

And then I'm being switched back onto the bed they wheeled me in on and out the door. My sister placed her phone next to my head and Robin Thicke's Blurred Lines rang out through the hallways. I smiled, my head started to bob and although I couldn't feel my toes I knew they were dancing.

I sang along to the music and thought to myself... I did it. I have staples in my belly and can't move my legs, but I did it!

I'm wheeled into the room and see my husband. We both smiled. A little wistful, a little lost. We got another girl. Another girl. What's that going to look like when they get boobs and periods and boys want to start coming over? He was holding her tightly wrapped little body against his chest and I witnessed this moment. It's the, "I don't know what we're going to do, but damn we made this?"

He handed her to me so I could do skin to skin and get her breastfeeding. She greeted me without difficulty and nuzzled my chest. The feeling was starting to come back in my legs now. Slowly, but surely. And along with it came this new feeling in my heart.

 You are mine and I love you. 
No matter what. 

Opinions Not Wanted

I've been mulling over a lot of things recently, the most obvious one being my ever growing belly. Every woman who has ever been pregnant or who is pregnant thinks about their delivery. How they will deliver, where they will deliver and the big giant question mark of when will that day come?

Since this is my second go around I'm not nearly as consumed with things as I was before, but I'm also not going the natural midwife route so it changes things. It changes lots of things.

The biggest change has been people's opinions and honestly their lack of support. Not that I had 100% support when I went natural because honestly people are life-sucking bastards and they apparently feel the need to educate you on their subjective reasoning no matter your personal circumstances. I distinctly remember someone downgrading what my experience would be because I was refusing drugs it went a little something like this... "Why go through all of that pain when it's so much easier with drugs. I think you'll regret doing it natural. It's not worth it."

And I am so done.

Done.
Done.
DONE.

I am done with unsupportive opinions that do nothing but belittle me and make me feel horrible. So, I'd like to take a moment and educate the world around me on something...

Your opinion is NOT wanted. Period.

I've written many posts about what I went through during my labor and delivery of Eliana here, here, and some more thoughts here. If you've been reading along then you know how I feel about the entire concept of having a c-section. It's not my first choice and I'm aware of the risks and complications that could occur, but I'm also aware of the risks and complications that could occur by doing vaginal again and it's not worth it. On one hand I'm choosing the lesser of two evils. On the other hand I'm choosing the only real option I have unless I want to permanently live with this baby inside of me forever because I can guarantee you that if someone strapped me to a gurney and told me to bear down and push the baby out, my cervix would close up and my entire body would shut down. It's a mental impossibility for me. Could my body physically push out another baby, sure. Would my brain allow it, no.

Any sort of tearing isn't fun, even small ones can be extremely uncomfortable, but like any traumatic event you don't forget what happened. What you went through to survive. Your thoughts, feelings, emotions and responses to the healing process. It's all there, haunting me, taunting me and looming over me like a bad nightmare. I hated my child. I hated my baby for at least the first four weeks of her life. Do you know how ugly that feels? How horrific it is? I don't want that again. I can't go through it. Do you know how it feels to want to do something as simple as use the restroom and spend 8 hours accomplishing this task? Do you know how it feels to go 6 months without being intimate with your husband because it's too painful? Do you know how it feels to have your tissues cauterized down there because you didn't heal properly?

Oh, what did you say no? No, you don't know? Then do me and every other mom out there who is dealing with making an "alternative" decision based on something regarding labor and delivery a favor and shut your mouth. Please and thank you. You are not helping at all. Your narrow minded opinions based on some book you read or the one experience a friend of yours had that you will use as a blanket comparison to form a truth based on all things regarding my situation is NOT WANTED.

When two people are having a conversation there is a big difference between what someone is saying and what the other person is hearing.

When you say, "I think you should take your chances and do vaginal."
I hear, "Your choice is wrong. You are a failure."

When you say, "C-sections are so bad though. So many complications. Don't you want what's best for the baby?"
I hear, "You're a bad mother. You're a bad mother. You're a bad mother."

When you say, "What if the tearing isn't that bad the second time?"
I hear, "You are weak. You are a failure."

When you say, "Healing from c-sections are really difficult as well."
I think, "You haven't listened to a word I've said have you?"

So do me a favor and this includes all of you super opinionated people who like to give moms unsolicited/unsupportive advice about all things in life including how to parent them, how to feed them, how to make them sleep better, how to make their gas go away, and so forth:

We are all doing the best we can with what God has given us. Our circumstances are all different, but we are in the same boat -- Motherhood. So take a step back and look at your words. Are they being helpful or harmful? Do they build another mom up or tear her down? Do they give her hope or doom?

The best words a friend of mine told me (another mom) when I decided on this route was, "Good for you. You know your body and you know what you can and can't handle. You labored long enough with Eliana for all of your future children to get a piece of it. Just divide up the 33 hours amongst them and they will all get a portion of what you accomplished."

This is the stuff we need. Support and a good laugh. Life is already ugly enough as it is. Don't add to it.

Mourning Motherhood

I'm roughly five months away from giving birth to our second child and although that still seems very far away, I know that I will go to bed tonight and wake up tomorrow and the day will be upon me.

That's how quickly time passes.

In lieu of this new addition, I recently told a group of my girlfriends that I feel like I'm mourning the loss of my first child and I mean that in the most figurative way. Life with E these past two years and three months has been emotional, overbearing, joyful, exquisite, challenging and rewarding. She was my first and we've learned so much together on this road of parent/child and I know that I'm about to rock her world and my own.

Doing things with her now at this age is easy. It's fun. It's manageable. But in July my focus will change, my responsibilities will be doubled and my freedom will be squelched, until I learn to adjust to a whole new life.

I know I can do it. I know it will be hard. I know it's what I want. It's just the acknowledgement of the change that is equal parts exciting and intimidating.

Eliana has become my best bud, my partner in crime, my eyes to a world that's 30 inches tall. She's the only reason worth waking up in the morning before 7am. Pancakes taste sweeter, butterflies are more enchanting, and reading is no longer a selfish pleasure. I look at her and I see half of me and half of her father. A product of love so wonderful that I can only imagine she will be a force to reckon with in the world and I don't hope, I know she will accomplish great things.

It's in her blood.

So I can't help, but feel a little saddened that this phase in life will be ending. Even though the future looks brighter than the past, this time with her, with me -- us --  has been so special. It's hard to believe she won't remember it, but I know I will.

I also know the best gift I could give her is a sibling. Someone to share secrets with, life with, joys and pitfalls. So when this phase of our life comes to a close, I will look back on all the times we had with just her and I and her papa and I will smile. I will cry. And I will think...

                                   This is how it all began, but it's not how it's suppose to end.

Kill them with Kindness

I've had a recent revelation about parenting and its completely changed my entire perspective on how I approach Eliana. It's funny because its so simple, and yet, the simplicity of it, is what has caused us to overlook it.

It's my opinion, that parents these days try too hard.

Please note the words MY and OPINION. I am not a parenting expert and being that I have only been on the job for roughly 17 months I still have a lot to learn, but I still have my opinions and we are all entitled to them. So, yes, I think parents try too hard. They are either trying too hard to TEACH them everything under the sun so they can show the world how they have created midget-Einstein-genius-freaks or they are trying too hard to please them in effort to keep them in a 24/7 blissed-out coma. Either way, I think their heart is in the right place and they mean well, but its not a style of parenting I personally want to adopt (although I am guilty of doing both).

My recent parental awareness, shall we say, came from one simple little word: kindness.

Which, you might be thinking hmmm how odd. Kindness? Yes, you heard me right, kindness. It's not something that I believe parents think about all too often when it comes to their kids. For the most part we try to spend our days loving them, disciplining them, providing for them and caring for them, but showing them kindness? For me at least, it wasn't really on my radar.

A Rationally-Irrational Fear

I am pretty sure I just made up the term "rationally-irrational", but sometimes double negatives are a necessity in life.

You see, I have an irrational fear of having a second child, but this irrational fear is technically made rational when you understand my predicament. Therefore, I have a rationally-irrational fear of procreating for a second time. In my mind it makes sense, but sometimes my mind is a very interesting place to reside.

If I could explain to you how I feel via nursery rhymes it would go something like this....

This was the least frightening humpty picture I could find.

Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall,
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.
All the King's horses, And all the King's men
Couldn't put Humpty back together again!

Now I know your utterly confused, but stick with me here. Most people would assume that after having one kid the second would be a walk-in-the-park. Sort of going with the whole been-there done-that mentality. And of course there is that concept that Mother's apparently forget what goes on in the delivery room and that's why we end up rushing to have a 2nd, 3rd and possibly even a 4th, when just 9 months before we were literally wondering why we ever decided to have children in the first place, as you attempt to push a 26 cm head out of a 10 cm hole.

But as much as I would like to think I have forgotten, I don't really think I was blessed with this so-called delivery amnesia. And to be honest its not really the delivery that was the problem for me, but more-so the post-delivery circumstances that have my panties in knots whenever I even remotely entertain the idea of getting a sperm to reach one of my eggs. Seriously, I have to work hard to suppress the mild anxiety attacks that threaten to overwhelm me and to top it off these feelings are intermixed with the giddiness & joy of adding to our family. Which, I dream about often and want more then anything else in the world (except possibly our trip to Italy in the fall, kidding, well maybe just a little bit).

It takes a village

Therapy is expensive. So when I am having "bad days" I write about them because it's therapeutic and free. Some posts get published and others are set-aside for my eyes only or to be re-written or re-worked at a later date. But today, today, I find myself writing in the moment and there will probably be many errors as you read this, but when I get emotionally worked up about stuff it just spews out of my mouth and I don't stop to think whether or not it sounds good.

Today I am having a bad day. And I realize that lots of us have bad days. Many, most, actually probably 90% of other bad days, I know, would be considered WAY worse. But nonetheless here I am writing about mine.

Today my bad day is the result of so many things, but the culmination of those things seems to be the reality that Motherhood is hard. Or can be hard, or has moments of extreme hardness, in which I speak of the trials & tribulations we face and not the perception that Motherhood has a sense of density in relation to being "hard". Anyhow....

I am in the middle of a transitional phase with our daughter and it is wearing me thin. No longer a "baby" she is entering the toddler phase of life like a bullet from a gun and its been difficult trying to find a daily rhythm. Her naps are changing, her attitude is changing, and her entire being is changing. Since its my first go at this, everything is new and so I am learning every day. And I am slowly realizing that my 4 year college degree did nothing to prepare me for it.

It's Not Enough

I find writing to be very therapeutic. Especially when it's my attempt to unload something that has been plaguing my mind & will eventually make it down to my heart. And I hate it when it reaches my heart because although the eyes are closer to the mind it's the pain of the heart that causes the tears.

Sometimes I write with an uncensored state of mind not caring who may come across these words, but I feel that if I don't explain the context of today's feelings I very well might end up getting pushed off the edge of a pier. For all of you who disagree with my point of view please don't contemplate throwing rocks at me. We all have our own story, our own goals, our own desires out of life and just because they don't align doesn't make either of us right or wrong.

For the past couple days, hell maybe its been weeks (it's hard to navigate the inner workings of oneself) I have felt for lack of a better word, bereft. And after spending unlimited hours trying to figure out why I have felt this way it sort of just fell out of my mouth this morning. And so here I am about to drop a very loaded question on all of you. Like nuclear loaded.

Is being a mother enough for you?

And now we can start the rather lengthy, in-depth discussion comparing societal expectations, norms and views with that of my own expectations, norms and views.

To be frank, honest and blunt, I discovered this morning that for me - It's not enough. And as freeing and liberating as it was to finally unearth my feelings behind my recent distress, figuring this out didn't exactly make me want to skip & jump rope in my meadow of happiness. If anything I feel even... worse?

E's 1st Birthday!!

We have officially passed our first huge milestone as parents and celebrated our lovely daughter's 1st birthday!! In true Mexican fashion we threw E a ginormous fiesta complete with an almost life size Minnie Mouse pinata straight from Mexico. The day was overwhelming, exciting, frustrating, stressful and joyous. To say that we did it for her would be a lie. It was 100% a selfish endeavor brought on by several factors, the least of which is me wanting to put my college degree in Event Planning to good use. But nonetheless it was a fantastic celebration regardless of the fact that the guest of honor was not even the slightest bit aware that the entire extravaganza was for her .

Anyhow it truly couldn't have been a more perfect celebration and since so much of the day was inspired by pinterest I have decided to use the rest of this post to show you the details :)

As most of us know any party worth attending begins with a freaking awesome invitation. I stumbled upon something many many months ago from a little shop on Etsy. I pinned it and sent an email to the designer stating that I definitely wanted to buy her design, but that I was gonna wait until it got closer to her actual birthday (purchasing an invitation 6 months prior to her turning 1 was a little over zealous even for me). Much to my chagrin I went to purchase said "invitation" and the little shop on Etsy was CLOSED!!! I went berserk. Nothing else I found could even compare to how perfect this little invitation was. So I did the 2nd best thing and recreated the original design by myself in Microsoft Publisher. (If the original designer ever stumbles upon this post please take note that I owe you $15 & I am truly sorry I copied your original design, but you left me no choice). So anyhow here is a side by side look at the original invitation and my re-make of it.

I was extremely pleased with the final product. The gray bars are covering my address and phone number. Sorry, but I don't need the entire world wide web to know that much information about me. I downloaded the fonts from a few different online sites and then put it together in Publisher. I was able to get 50 custom invitations for $25 in printing costs from Staples. I could've done it for $0.00 if I used my printer at home, but I was out of ink and in a rush so Staples was the better option at the time. After I printed them I rounded the edges with a photo rounder punch and viola professional looking invitations. I also included a little diddy on the back encouraging people to stay and hang around for an "After Party".

Once again this is a prime example that this party was definitely more for us. Not that she didn't benefit greatly from it with all the wicked cool gifts she got, but truth be told I think Hector and I were celebrating the survival of our 1st year as parents more then anything else.

So let's move on. The remaining photos below will give you a good idea of what the rest of the party looked like. I hope they inspire you to throw an amazing 1st Birthday for your little one as well :)

Eliana's grandma made Mexican Sugar Cookies and we handed them out in little baskets as "thank you" gifts for everyone who came. 

I purchased some more Mexican cookies that just happened to have the E's initial all over them :) They were put on a cake stand and then placed by the toy basket for the older kids. You can never have enough sweets at a party. 

I spent $25 on toys from the Dollar Store to entertain all 20+ kids that would be attending the party. This was actually an afterthought to my original plans to just have the pinata as entertainment and I was sooooo glad I did it.  I placed all the items in our laundry basket, slapped on a sign that said "TOYS" and just set it in our backyard. It took less then 3 minutes for one of the kids to ask me if the toys were for them :)

Seriously all of this stuff should have cost like $100 if I purchased it from Wal-mart or Target, but thank God for the Dollar Store!!

We had paper lanterns hanging throughout the entire backyard as well as 100 feet of papel picado (pictured below). 

Papel picado are those little banners that you see decorating the majority of Mexican restaurants. I purchased mine from Oriental Trading for $13!! Seriously best decor deal ever. 

A simple and sweet sign I made to act as a good photo background when we sang her happy birthday and she tried cake for the first time :)

Yes, we wore matching outfits! I found my dress on ebay. It was a 1970's vintage lace mexican dress with hand-stitched embroidery. I LOVED IT! I got E's little dress from a local street fair.

The food for the day was all cooked by Eliana's Abuela. We had Barbacoa, Rice, Beans and Mexican Pasta Salad. It was seriously delicious!! And I included a little information about the tradition of Barbacoa as a meal for weddings and parties. 

You can't have a fiesta without Jarritos soda!

I told you we had an almost life size Minnie Mouse pinata :)

 

Some friends enjoying the delicious cuisine!

E and Daddy :)

This expression says soooo much.

We hung over 100 photos of E throughout her 1st year. Then encouraged guests to take whatever prints they wanted as they left. It was nice to see how much she changed over the last 12 months.

All in all it was the perfect day. I doubt we will do something this crazy again until she can at least understand what a Birthday Party is, but until then I will always look back on this day with incredible joy and thankfulness. It was in the simplest of definitions... A great year.

Snow in San Diego

*2 years ago I started working from home because my employer decided to move to the east coast.
*5 months later I was forced to quit what I thought was the-most-amazing-job-ever.
*3 months after that I was still unemployed and looking for work.
*The next day I found out I was pregnant.
*I spent the following 6 months still looking for a job.
*Then I looked in the mirror and saw why I was more then likely not going to get hired by anyone.
*Non-discrimination laws don't work.
*3 months later I became a mommy.
*We spent the next 6 months looking for a bigger house to rent.
*Our 600sq foot closet home continued to be our humble abode against our fiercest wishes for a bigger one.
*I cried on a long drive home a few months ago, from Laguna Nigel, because we didn't get that 7th house we just applied for.  
*A week later at 5am I found out that after being denied our 7th applied house that-happened-to-have-everything-we-could-ever-ask-for-in-a-rental-except-a-dishwasher was now being offered to us.
*2 months ago I got a job writing from home. It was a dream.
*3 weeks after being hired I was laid off. Along with dozens of other writers.
*The next day Eliana started waking up 2-3x a night. It was hell. I think she was teething.
*This continued for 2 weeks.
*Did I mention we had house guests every single day of those 2 weeks.
*Then 5 days ago her first tooth finally broke through.
*For the last 4 nights she has been sleeping 12-13 hours every night.
*During those 2 weeks of hell-I-think-she-might-be-teething-but-its-just-a-theory she wanted to be held all the time.
*Yesterday I held her almost the entire day. Not because she wanted it, but because I needed it.
*And today I find myself sitting in a living room the size of our condo, watching Sesame Street with the most gorgeous child on the planet, listening to the dishwasher (that we didn't think we were gonna get with this house, but ended up getting because our landlord decided to remodel the entire kitchen before we moved-in) wash the dishes so I can spend more time with Eliana and less time actually washing dishes, while drinking coffee as I contemplate the job that I never knew I could have, but always wanted and then lost, and I see how good life is. In fact its not just good, its superb. It's beyond superb its exquisite. I have an exquisite life.

Sometimes amazingly good things happen and amazingly bad things happen. In the end its your perspective on how they balance out your opinion on life. So I am thinking today it just might Snow in San Diego. I have seen crazier things happen in my own life. The question is will you view the snow as something bad or something good...

Thank You for Pushing

Many many years ago I found myself one Sunday morning sitting in the nursery at the Rock Church with a bunch of precious little newborns. I was serving that morning and I happened to meet a new mom who wanted to stick around for the first 20 minutes to see how her son would do. It was his first time in the nursery and her son was probably 3 or 4 weeks old I can't exactly remember, but what I do remember is seeing the most beautiful, intricately designed and breathtaking ring ever. It was situated on the ring finger of her right hand so I had assumed it was an anniversary gift of some sort. I proceeded to ask her about it and she nonchalantly explained to me it was her Push Present. Insert awkward pause. I just sat there staring at her thinking I didn't hear her correctly and when I realized she was gonna say nothing more on the subject I continued the conversation with a quizzical look and a slight tilt of my head. I think she was vaguely aware of my ignorance on the subject and when the silence got weird she finally clarified her previous statement with, "The ring is my push present. My husband gave it to me for pushing out this little guy". Light bulb on! I returned the news with a bright smile and finally an understanding expression. I finally got it. I asked her if I could see it and she politely handed it over for me to get a closer look. It was truly love at first sight.

I think if Hector knew this conversation would have unfolded that morning he would've somehow tried to persuade me from going to church. But lucky me he isn't clairvoyant and my Sunday morning proceeded as any other regular Sunday morning except on this day I learned about Push Presents. At the time I wasn't even remotely close to desiring a child and yet this little tid bit of educational news on the wonders of becoming a new parent enticed me. Instead of doing something stupid like getting knocked up just so I could get a pretty ring I decided to file the memory away for future use :) And let me just say that for the next 5 years I made sure Hector was randomly educated on the concept of a Push Present because you just never know when that knowledge of such a thing would come in handy. And boy did it come in handy.

Now my dear New Momma from above defined a Push Present as a gift she received from pushing her son out, but for those of you who would prefer a more specific definition here is what the wonderful Wikipedia has to say about the subject:

A push present (also known as a "push gift" or "baby bauble") is a present a new father gives a new mother when she gives birth to their child. In practice the present may be given before or after the birth, or even in the delivery room.

Now, I personally find nothing insulting or wrong about wanting to bestow a beautiful gift to a new mother after enduring 9 months of pregnancy, who knows how many hours of labor and the obvious proceedings that one occurs from pushing a 26 cm head out of a 10 cm hole (and to all my friends out there who had to undergo c-sections you get an even better present for having to be cut open, just because you didn't push didn't mean it wasn't hard!) But apparently, there is actually a lot of scrutiny over the idea of "Push Presents". Some women think they are ridiculous and that its just another means of turning something beautiful such as the miracle of childbirth into something consumer driven and focused on material things. Now I can totally see where this perspective comes from, but I think you could also argue the same thing with almost any holiday or special occasion in life that involves presents. So that's my 2 cents on that.

To be honest I had never thought about getting a gift for pushing out a child, that is until I saw that ring on that New Momma's hand. I am pretty sure the dozens of generations before me never heard of such a concept, but lets be honest a lot has changed since the 1900's and if Push Presents is one of them I am not complaining. But don't get me wrong here. I am not some materialistic snob that thinks she is entitled to have anything and everything. However, if my husband feels the need to spoil me I will gladly accept.

Needless to say 6 1/2 months ago when I was at UCSD undergoing the most intense experience of my life the term Push Present was brought up by my husband. Eliana was 15 seconds old and laying on my chest and I was lying in a bed that looked more befitting to a crime scene then what I envisioned when I saw myself welcoming my child into the world. My husband was staring at me like he actually witnessed a murder instead of a birth as well so that was lovely. But after his initial shock his expression turned to wonderment and awe. He tilted his nose to my cheek and kissed me. Then in the softest voice ever in his attempt to not disturb the new life that lay on my chest even though she was a wailing, bloody, wet mess he whispered "You can have whatever you want for a push present, I'll give you anything."

I just turned and giggled. I was seriously experiencing the greatest natural high of my life and was letting it rush over me like a wave of joy. Oh the pure relief of having her out was honestly the only gift I wanted at that moment and I had found it. Truly there was nothing more that I wanted, but as we all know time passes, the days fade and life goes on. It's not to say that after the high wore off that I felt I needed something more then her because let me tell you her smile is enough to keep me happy for all eternity. But for me though a push present was more of a need to commemorate that day and her birth into something special.

Since my first acknowledgment of a push present was in the form of a ring I think that idea just stuck with me. I don't wear bracelets or necklaces really and even though I love earrings you really won't see a day go by where I don't have my pearl studs on. So naturally it made sense to want a ring if I ever planned on wearing the darn thing. Hector had casually asked me here and there what I was sort of thinking of when I thought of my push present and I simply told him this... I would love an heirloom piece of jewelry that I could pass on down to Eliana. Something that represents her and is timeless and classic. Not something that is disposable or will get tossed to the side as the years pass by. Something that I could wear and think of her and the day she was born.

I did a little research on her birthstone and was happy to realize that she was born in a month that represented a stone that I loved. Citrine comes in such beautiful colors, all differing shades of the sun. It was fitting on so many levels that I knew I wanted her stone to be a part of it. The rest was really up to him. I gave him a few recommendations on things I liked and disliked because he really wanted me to love it. In the end I realized I couldn't have picked out something more beautiful and perfect if I had done it myself.

We went out to dinner a couple weeks ago and that's when he bestowed upon me something that I love and treasure just as much as my wedding ring. Something that I will keep for the rest of my life and hopefully one day pass down to Eliana. A ring that represents all of the beauty that a new life brings. I couldn't be more grateful and feel more loved by how much Hector appreciates me in my new role as wife and mother. Life is good.

So what do you think?

 

Eliana Update

So I have been slacking with posting new pictures/videos etc. up for Eliana on facebook and since videos take foooooorever to upload on fb I decided to just post them on the blog. Way easier. Anyhow here is what we have been up to with our little booger for the past 2 months. I still can't believe she is almost half way done with her first year of life. Time is just zooming by. Enjoy!

Eliana laughed for the first time about 2 months ago and then we tried everything to get her to repeat it, but she just wasn't having it. Finally about 4 days ago she decided to laugh again. Thank goodness. I was starting to think she was broken. Anyhow this is the video of her first official laugh :)

We started Eliana on solids a few weeks ago. In the beginning it was just your basic rice cereal, but since then she has tried Carrots, Bananas, Broccoli, Spinach, Prunes, Pears, Avocado and Cucumber. So far she has loved everything except Cucumbers. Her disgust at the taste was too precious to not capture on film.

Eliana recently learned how to sit up all by herself as well. She is still working on the whole balancing issue, but so far she is pretty good. Also please excuse her rude behavior, she burped and is still learning how to say "Excuse Me" :)

Well that's all for now. Is it bad that I still have 6 months until she turns 1, but I am already planning her birthday? : )

Cymbalta - Depression Hurts

If there was one word that would be considered an antonym of my life I think depressed would work quite well. There is hardly a day where I do not have a smile on my face and even on my worst days I feel like I can still make the sun shine out of my ass (props to Diablo Cody and Juno's Father - one of my favorite lines in that movie and my apologies to those who think ass is a rather terse word - I am quoting someone else so be mad at them).

Anyway to get back to the point at hand depression. Apparently depression hurts and Cymbalta can help. I used to think commercials for medicine that healed depression were for the weaklings of the world who just couldn't get their lives together and be happy. Now after having a baby and experiencing early onset Postpartum Depression aka The Baby Blues I humbly apologize to those who are affected by depression every day. It's no laughing matter.

I know most of us have all heard the term "Postpartum Depression" and generally its not something most people, I think, would like to admit having. I don't know why the world we live in likes to sugar coat everything in life and make it seem that everything is peaches and cream. Because guess what... it isn't. If I truly tried to describe to you all how I felt during the first 3-4 weeks of Eliana's life I am afraid I might scare some of you away from ever having kids. But I think I am going to take my chances and risk telling the truth instead of candy coating it. This way if you find yourself in similar shoes you won't think your a crazy bad person who doesn't love their child and is on the brink of a mental breakdown. So be forewarned my words might act as birth control.

So let's begin with the definition of Postpartum Depression (PPD). PPD is a temporary depression related to pregnancy and childbirth. It comes in two forms: early onset, commonly referred to as the "baby blues," and late onset. The early-onset type is mild and may affect as many as 80% of women after they deliver. It starts after delivery and usually resolves within a couple of weeks without medical treatment. The later-onset form is what most people think of as "postpartum depression". This more severe form is usually recognized several weeks after delivery. Overall it affects about 10%-16% of women.

I place myself in the "baby blues" department of PPD, however I believe I teeter-tottered towards late-onset PPD, but thankfully was able to pull it together after 4 weeks. For those of you have truly experienced a prolonged form of late-onset PPD... I do not envy you. The medical world describes symptoms of the "baby blues" as including sadness, anxiety, tearfulness, and trouble sleeping. These symptoms usually appear within several days of delivery and go away within 10-12 days post delivery. Usually the only treatment needed is reassurance and some help with household chores and the care of the baby.

I say usually because this is where I place myself between the baby blues and late-onset PPD. I don't even know if I can fully describe how I felt since feelings can be so subjective, but basically life sucked and I wasn't prepared.

Since Eliana was in the NICU for her first week that part wasn't that bad. However weeks 2, 3 and 4 felt like I was in the twilight zone. Everyone tells you to sleep all you can before you deliver because you will never sleep again. There is some major truth to that statement. But it's so much more than that. Not only was I physically exhausted from the lack of sleep and from breastfeeding, but I felt like I was mentally losing it. I remember taking a walk with Hector while my sister was watching Eliana and I just started to cry. I had so many emotions streaming through me and I was afraid that if I was honest with him he would be scared and think that I really was losing it (even though I sort of was). 

For starter's I felt very little love towards Eliana. I knew I loved her, but loving her was a whole different ball game. All she did was feed, sleep, cry, poop and repeat. It sounds simple enough, but I really started to believe that I was not cut out for motherhood. I started to rethink my plans of having a big family and I started feeling the worst anxiety and fear that it was going to be like this forever...... and ever...... and ever. My life as I knew it had ended. 

I tried really hard to play it cool those first few weeks. Whenever we had company over I put a smile on my face and some blush on my cheeks. I tried my hardest to look like the happy new mother who was utterly enraptured in her child, but inside I felt this big dark expanse of emptiness. Thankfully the days were easier then the nights, but the nights... oh the nights. They were hell on a shiny silver platter.

I started to wonder how in the world people had more then 1 child...

And then it was Sunday, the last day I would have Hector with me before he went back to work. The internal tears of fear were flowing and I felt a flood was about to ensue. I told him I had no idea how I was going to survive without him. Luckily, I have an amazing husband who had zero doubt in my ability to take care of our child, but I on the other hand had all the doubt in the world. That first Monday came and went and somehow I did survive.

My exact situation might have been worsened considering the extent to which delivering Eliana had destroyed me downstairs. I read a lot about other women who had undergone severe tearing and that it was common to have depression. I mean when peeing and pooping (life's simplest tasks) become as time consuming and exhausting as running a marathon its no wonder one would start to have an Eeyore complex.

However, with the bad definitely came the good. At 4 weeks Eliana finally gave me my first real smile. Not a gas induced crinkling of her lips that you thought was a smile. And it was like all my fears, insecurities, worries, frustrations and exhaustion just melted away. It was at that moment that I finally fell IN love with my daughter. She also started sleeping through the night right around that time and it was MAGNIFICENT.

Sometimes I wonder why in the world God would make those first weeks/months so difficult for parents. I mean I understand the whole pain in childbirth situation, but couldn't we get a small reprieve after accomplishing something as wonderful as BIRTHING a child?! But now I see that its all a part of the big picture. If it wasn't hard, if we didn't lose sleep, if it was as easy as pie - then our love for our children wouldn't be as fierce as God had intended. We would take them for granted and we wouldn't go to the ends of the earth to protect them and provide for them. Because I can tell you wholeheartedly without a single doubt in my mind I would give up ANYTHING and EVERYTHING for that little 15lb chunker sleeping just mere steps away from me.

My Lexus? Here are the keys. Our condo? let me just shine those floors for you first. Our beautiful San Diego location? cars packed and I am ready to move... To Minnesota in the Winter? sounds superb! Trips to the mall? Vacations? Fancy Restaurants? Whatever you want... its yours as long as I get to keep her.

So when I look back at weeks 2, 3 and 4 of her life I can still see the dark cloud that hovered above me, but I can also see the sun trying to break through. I wish I had been more prepared for what to expect during those first few weeks, but in the end I am glad to know that life has only gotten sweeter.

People complain and say that kids change things and that life will never be the same. But isn't that the whole point? Ask most people over 80 years of age if they could be 21 forever and they would say No. Every season in life has its time and its place. I would hate to look back at my life and regret not having kids just so that I could sleep more or travel more or have a higher disposable income. Life is about relationships and the things you do with people through those relationships. I would hate to be on my death bed and have my final thoughts be... "Well at least I drove a bad ass Ferrari".

Although if I could have all of thee above and a Ferrari I wouldn't complain.

Just sayin :)

A baby story

So here we are 14 days into being parents. And now I finally understand why everyone kept telling me to get more sleep... you live and you learn :)

Anyhow let me get to the point of this post - Eliana's Birth Story :)
For those of you who dislike the details of birth stories you probably won't want to read this. I promise to spare any gruesome details, however I want to share as much of my experience as possible. Not to mention if I don't write it down now chances are in a few more days I will forget how it all happened! So we start this long journey of how our dear Eliana came into the world on the morning of November 19th, 2010.

It was approximately 5am when I got up out of bed and started having my first contractions. The funny thing was that somehow I knew it was coming. The night before I was super emotional and had a heightened sensitivity toward everything around me. I canceled my initial plans to go out with a group of girls from my church because I felt like at any moment I might burst into tears. So instead I got ready for bed and called it a night. Which I am glad I did because I had no idea what the following 33 hours would have in store for me.

When I woke up at 5am, I didn't tell Hector. I wanted to make sure that I was truly going into Labor so I went to the living room and started counting my contractions. **For all of my "still-pregnant" friends, there is this awesome contractions calculator on thebump.com. It seriously helps with keeping track of your contractions when your incoherent. So after an hour of consistent contractions I decided to go poke Hector and tell him that he might not be going into work. My contractions from the very beginning were 2-3 minutes apart and lasting anywhere from 30-50 seconds. I had an appointment scheduled for that morning with my midwife to have my membranes stripped so I decided to go in as planned and have her check me and make sure all was okay.

In my opinion these pictures are evidence that I married one of the most amazing men on the planet

and waited 4.5 years to have kids with him

and could rest assured knowing that he would be by my side the entire 33 hours

 of the most exhaustive Labor ever. 

Our love has grown even more and it has opened the door of understanding 

as to how much God truly loves us.

I went in at 8:30am to see Rita and I was pretty bummed to find out that I was only 1 cm dilated and 75% effaced. I thought considering my contractions were relatively close that I was lucky enough to be progressing quickly. That morning when she asked me what my pain level was I told her a 7 on a scale of 10. Little did I know that I would retract that number and change it to a 3 after experiencing transition 27 hours later.

Hector and I went home from the appointment and I decided to chill on the couch while he went into work for a few hours to tie up some loose ends. I was feeling pretty good considering I was still very much in early labor. I called my parents to give them the heads up and even though I told them to take their time, the eager grandparents arrived at our house around 1:30pm. My sister showed up around 3:30pm and at this point our house was full. I was sitting on a yoga ball laboring in the living room while everyone else watched tv and to be honest the distraction of all the activity was rather nice. I was texting the entire time as well so that's a major sign of me not being in hard labor.

He seriously never let go of my hand and never stopped encouraging me. 

 Hector cuts Eliana's cord :)

Eliana meeting Dad for the first time. 

And then she poops on him for the first time as well!

Our little chunker getting weighed as...

Mommy gets put back together again. 

 My sister was there with me for the last 6 hours of Labor as well. She was incredible and although wanted to laugh at my reaction to contractions was an awesome support. Especially when I was getting stitched up.

My contractions continued to increase in strength, but were still about 2-3 minutes apart and a little less then a minute in length. At around 5:30pm (10 hours into laboring) we decided to head to the birthing center. My mom was getting nervous that I was progressing quickly and a part of me was anxious to see if I had progressed at all. The car ride wasn't fun by any means, but it wasn't unbearable. Once we arrived I was escorted into the triage room to be checked by the midwife and assessed to see if I could be admitted. Unfortunately I was only 2 cm dilated and 40% effaced (apparently I backtracked on that part). I was sooooo bummed. The midwife proceeded to strip my membranes in order to make my labor progress quicker. She then told me to walk the hallways for 2 hours and come back around 8pm to get checked again.

So lots and lots of pacing the hallways and enduring contractions that were progressively getting worse and finally the clock struck 8pm. I was checked again and it was good, but not great news. I was at 3cm and 80% effaced. Since I had progressed in that 2 hour time frame they decided to admit me and give me a room. A part of me was grateful and another part of me was thinking "How long is this going to take?! I am only at 3cm, I still have 7 more to go". Needless to say it had been a long day and the night would be even longer.

Once we got settled in I basically was jumping around from rocking chair to yoga ball to regular chair and then back to rocking chair in an attempt to manage my contractions. They checked me again at midnight (4 hours later) and I was still 3cm and 90% effaced. At this point it took everything in me to not want to cry, but somehow I managed. Hector was extremely supportive and encouraging. He continuously reminded me that I was doing great and that I would get through this. About 3 hours later they checked me again and I had progressed to 4cm and 90% effaced still. I was somewhat happier, but I was honestly crossing my fingers for 7cm. Apparently that was wishful thinking.

Our first and last few moments with her before she was rolled away to the NICU

 This should be an encouragement to all women going natural - if I can look this happy just mere hours after delivering her it obviously isn't that bad :)

The nurse and midwife could tell that I was getting exhausted. I couldn't relax enough to sleep and I had been up for almost 24 hours. They offered me "therapeutic rest" via injection. Basically its like drinking a 6 pack of beer. Its an anti-nausea medicine that helped me relax enough to sleep. I don't remember much about getting it except that I felt super tired. They said it might allow me to get about 3-4 hours of sleep so Hector and I laid down in my room and slept.  Unfortunately 1 hour later I was up again and sitting back in the rocking chair. I let Hector sleep since I knew he had to be pretty exhausted.

I didn't get checked again until about 7am and I had progressed to 5cm. It was a battle of my mind to keep myself thinking positive thoughts. I really had to focus on the fact that at least I was still progressing and not stopping or regressing because that can happen as well. The time was really a blur and between walking the hallways and rocking in the chair it somehow managed to go by. It was at this point they decided to bind my belly with an elastic belly band. They felt that Eliana was balled up at the front of my belly instead of moving down into my birth canal. The band felt awesome. The pressure it put on my stomach relieved some of the tension from the contractions. And apparently they knew what they were doing. When they checked me at 10am I was 7cm!!!! Yahoo was all I could think. It wasn't 10cm, but I had gone 2 cm in 3 hours instead of 1 cm in 10 hours. So things were finally starting to move along.

At this point they decided on 2 things 1.) they broke my water and 2.) they started filling up the tub so I could labor in there during transition. When they broke my water they did find a little of meconium in my fluid, but thankfully it wasn't enough to have me moved down to Labor and Delivery. An hour later I was in the tub and experiencing what I now know to be "transition". If I though the first 30 hours of labor was difficult, it was nothing compared to the last 3. From 11am to 1:45pm I labored in the tub and was checked every hour. I progressed from 7 to 8 to 9 to almost 10cm each hour. These 3 hours were the hardest thing I have ever experienced in life.  At this point my contractions were actually 3-4 minutes apart and lasting for about 1min 30 seconds. And all I can say is that I am so grateful for those 3-4 minute breaks. They were my saving grace.

A little bit before 2pm they had me get out of the tub to change positions and see if gravity would get me to the final full 10cm. Before I knew it I was lying on the bed and pushing. And boy did that feel good. Instead of trying to survive my contractions I was able to use them and work with them to get her out. I pushed for 27 minutes and she came into the world at exactly 2:22pm. Finally RELIEF!! My sister and my husband were there for the entire thing. They witnessed what they felt was the most amazing experience ever. When she came out she was put directly on my chest and I was just in a state of shock and awe. My sister and Hector were staring at me like they had seen a ghost. Apparently watching the actual birth is a whole lot different then being the one delivering.

At this point I felt like a million bucks. It was so nice to have her out. I was starving so my sister was feeding me cheez-its while Hector cut the cord and the midwife tried to finish things up "downstairs". However she had to call in reinforcements because I tore pretty bad. The midwives can only do repairs on 2nd degree tears, but I had a 4th so the surgeons from downstairs had to come finish the job. After the midwife had spent an hour already trying to suture me up the Urogynecologists from Labor and Delivery were sent up and spent 2 more hours putting me back together. The worst part was that I had to leave Eliana. Hector stayed in the room with her and then I was taken to triage. I was super bummed. Not even an hour into this world I was already having to say goodbye. Not cool.

Thankfully my sister came with me. If I hadn't just experienced 33 hours of labor I probably would've been terrified knowing that they were going to be suturing up my most sensitive parts for over 2 hours. But they did a great job numbing me with lidocaine so I didn't feel too much going on down there. My nurse eventually came in to tell me that Eliana was a whopping 9lbs 2oz and 20 inches (later to be corrected at 22 inches). There was a definite sigh from all the other nurses and the 2 surgeons in the room and it was followed with "So that's how you tore....". I was shocked. My midwife estimated Eliana at 7 to 7 1/2 lbs, but apparently ultrasounds and even guessing fetal size with your hands is only correct 50% of the time. So really its totally unreliable.

Finally the 2 hours were over and I was sent back to my room where my wonderful husband and gorgeous baby girl were waiting for me. I was really just bummed that I missed them weigh and measure her, but I am glad I got fixed. Once I was back to the room I was feeling great and honestly just wanted to see my family and Hector's family and share my feelings of excitement and joy. And my awesome sister in law had brought us In N Out for dinner and I was so ready to chow down.

Even though I felt like adopting during my last 3 hours of labor

I can see in these photos that she was worth every

 hour of pain, discomfort and exhaustion.

We had wonderful visits from family and friends for the next few hours and I can't explain how happy and joyful I was. It was like I never even went through the previous 33 hours of labor. It was beautiful. And then God throws another curve ball into the mix and the joyous feeling is paused. At 10:00pm Eliana wasn't breathing properly and the perinatologist from the NICU wheeled her downstairs for testing. So here I was for the 2nd time in her first day a part of this world, saying goodbye to my daughter. Hector and I didn't even know how to respond. We just sort of sat and stared...

Eliana's Birth Story Part II: Being in the NICU - To be continued