Roll Over, Bethoven!

And make room for our munchkin, who is quickly learning to be mobile. This baby girl's mobility learning curve is off the charts! Guess I've got my work cut for me.

A "First"

Munchkin rolled over by herself for the first time yesterday! Apparently, that's really early for a baby. She was 6 weeks and 2 days when she rolled over for the first time. She did it again this afternoon. I'm going to try and get a video of it!

This is a video of playing with munchkin. She's such a great baby!

Happy 1 Month, Munchkin!

To celebrate our little munchkin's survival (and ours!) to 1 month of life outside the womb! We look forward to many more months and years of adventures with you, Naomi!

Oh, and before I forget-- check out http://bellepetitephoto.blogspot.com/
My friend Sarah from my single's ward a couple years back is a fabulous photographer. She's having a photo shoot giveaway before she moves, and I'm hoping to win to get awesome photos of our munchkin. Check out her site and enter the contest!

Attack of the Exploding Diaper!

it started out as any normal day ( a great day, in fact, for having a newborn baby because naomi had just slept nearly 7 hours through the night). but little did mommy know that her arch enemy-- the poopy diaper-- was preparing a deadly assault.

approximately 1500 hours and 15 minutes: mommy noticed that baby's diaper was dirty and decided to change it. nothing out of the ordinary.
3:17pm: mommy places a clean diaper under the dirty one. mommy opens the dirty diaper. wet. poopy, moderatly full. no signs of diaper rash.
3:18pm: mommy grabs a baby wipe and proceeds to clean the soiled area.
3:19pm: mommy removes the dirty diaper and wraps it up in preparation for disposal.3:19pm: ATTACK!!! a stream of icky yellow baby poop launches itself out of naomi's baby bum, across 5-6 inches of changing table and another 6 inches of carpet and lands on mommy's tummy and runs down her pants.
3:20pm: mommy rapidly tries to clean the carpet to prevent baby poop stains. calls daddy for backup-- no answer. distress message left.
3:21pm: mommy stands up to see a fountain of pee raising 2 inches into the air before drenching the baby changing table and everything on it.
3:22pm: mommy sets up the baby bath tub. fill with water. call daddy again. no answer.

3:25pm: mommy wipes off baby's entire lower-half with baby wipes. wrap baby in a towel. put baby in baby bathtub. ATTACK!!! baby towel is hit!
3:26pm: call daddy for backup; still no answer. call BYU-info, ask for the number for the secretary at daddy's work. ask secretary to retrieve daddy from the basement and send him home, mommy needs emergency backup!

3:28pm: call Grammsie-- "come back to utah! I need your help!"
3:29pm: ATTACK!!! yellow baby poop begins to boil up and over baby's legs while she's still in the babytub. "Grammsie, I REALLY need your help now! Can't you teleport to utah and save me?!"
3:30pm: turn on kitchen faucet, rinse baby in sink. be careful not to drop crying baby as she thrashes about.
3:33pm: wrap baby in daddy's towel. put on clean diaper. swaddle in baby blanket.
3:34pm: daddy arrives at home to a happy and smiling baby, but a very poop-covered wife, bedroom, and kitchen.

The Birth Story: Naomi Edition

I've got the cutest little girl ever! She's seriously perfect in almost every way-- she's even sleeping through the night already, even if her "night doesn't start til 2am," it at least lasts til 9 or 10 am!!! Yes; I'm know i'm the luckiest mommy ever!

pictures to come soon!

The Birth Story
So, my due date was Monday, April 19th. The day came and went, and Naomi had no intention of coming. I cried myself to sleep that night because I wasn't going into labor and was convinced that she would decide to come on Thursday night or Friday morning-- which is when i was supposed to graduate from BYU. my family was coming into town on Wednesday for my graduation and they wanted to meet the newest member of the family before leaving Saturday morning. but Brad, being the righteous and wonderful husband that he is, reminded me to pray for comfort and then offered to give me a blessing. It brought great comfort, and i was able to go to sleep peacefully despite knowing that my little girl would not be coming that night.

Tuesday, April 20th at 10:30am, I was scheduled for an NST (non-stress test) since i was "past-due." Basically they hook me up to a monitor to measure baby's heart rate and mommy's contractions. I apparently had 3 or 4 contractions while i was there, but i didn't feel them. The nurse said she was concerned about a couple dips, so she had the specialist doctor look at it and he said i needed to go to the hospital to be induced, "right now." i looked at her in shock-- wait, what? the dips she was concerned about,she called them "late decelerations" and it looked like baby's heart rate went down just before i had a contraction, and she explained that it meant something like my placenta was "getting tired." we bargined with her that we needed to go home for some things and run some errands before going to the hospital, so she gave us an hour.

we got to the hospital about 12:45pm. I was started on pitocin within 20 minutes. I was supposed to pick up my graduation gown at 1pm, but the nurse was already upset at letting us take an hour to get to the hospital, so after checking in, Brad left to go get my cap and gown about 2pm or so. I just watched tv and relaxed. About 2:30pm or so, my midwife arrived and wanted to break my water, but Brad wasn't back yet, and he wanted to be there, so I asked her to wait. I called Brad and he said he would be there ASAP. (This whole time, I still don't feel as though I've felt any contractions and I've been on pitocin for almost 2 hours.) He gets there and my water is broken at around 3pm-ish. Within about 20 minutes, I begin to feel slight tightening which I assume is contractions because it makes the monitor happy and lines start making bigger humps on the screen. Brad is at my side, and we just start watching a movie (Madagascar 2:Escape to Africa) as the contractions begin to get stronger and stronger and last longer and longer. Within 30 minutes, I'm fully utilizing the breathing techniques I'd learned and constantly reminding myself-- I need to relax, tensing only creates pain. relax, breath. relax. relax, breathe. relax. Relax... RELAX! ok, i don't know how to relax--BREATHE!!!

I begin think-chanting to myself, "i can do this, i can do this. I can do this!" (think of the story "The Little Engine That Could.") when the nurse checks me, however, and I haven't made ANY progress at all... I feel like I've wasted all my energy for nothing. I'm at 4 cm and 70% effaced. (now, you gotta understand-- I was dialated to 4 1/2 cm yesterday,before they even induced me, and 80% effaced. When the nurses checked me after getting to the hospital, they told me I was only 3 cm and 60% effaced.) i was in freaking active labor and I had gone backwards?!?!?! That's when I got upset... I became vocalizing upset-- not yelling, mind you. just pretty peeved off and wanting to vent my opinion. The pitocin is at full strength, and I tell Brad, "I'm beginning to think about getting that epidural." He's wonderful and encouraging and does exactly what I had asked him-- reminds me of everything we'd learned, my body was designed for this ("especially well designed" he adds), I am strong and can do it, our baby girl is worth it. He holds my hand, massages me, breaths with me-- even the nurses are impressed and jokingly offer him a job cuz he's just that amazing!

This lasts about 2 hours when the nurses tell me i need to use the bathroom. We were good until then-- once in the bathroom, alone, with the contraction that wouldn't end after 3 minutes, I begin crying. I no longer think I can do this. My moaning turns into sobbing as Brad helps me back to bed; "I really think i'm going to need the epidural," I tell him, feeling defeated as I'm crying in the terribly immodest hospital gown that hides nothing from everyone in the room. "let's have the nurses check you. if you're not to a certain point by now, then you can tell me and we'll get one for you. " i agree, and want to be at least 6cm or more to keep going without the drugs.

I'm only 5cm. But i had made progress, i tell myself, so I don't give brad the signal right away. i think for about 7 or 8 more minutes (through 3 contractions) before i start crying again, and say the magic words-- "I want the epidural. please, get me an epidural!" The nurses go to call the anesthesiologist and my midwife arives to check on me and help me calm down since she realized i asked for the epidural. She shows us some new things to do to help relax-- they work amazingly well, but it's really tiring for Brad. He's sweating withing less than 10 minutes. The anesthesiologist still isn't there, and I don't know how much longer Brad can last, or myself without his help. I ask there nurses-- apparently the anesthesiologist is out for dinner (it's a little after 5pm) and so they called his back-up. He's on his way and will be there in about 30 minutes. I basically cry and hum to myself really loudly until he gets there 25 minutes later. The epidural takes the edge off immediately, and after 10 minutes, I can't feel anything and my toes are just a teeny bit tingly.

Over the next 2 hours, Brad and I relax and talk until I'm fully dialated and ffaced. Then the midwife advises me to take a nap and that she will be back in about an hour so we can start pushing. She just wants me to relax and let some contractions move the baby down further so that pushing will be easier. A half hour later, I begin to feel pressure from contractions and like I should push, but my midwife isn't there and the nurses are busy. Luckily, the epidural allowed me to simply breath and relax through them easily for another half hour. When the midwife showed up, an hour after she left exactly as she promised, we began pushing and Naomi was in my arms within 40 minutes.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
So... in the end, I threw my birthplan out the window. Kinda needed to, but oh well. I had psyched myself up for a drug-free birth and that didn't happen; and yet, I'm not really disappointed at all. Going into it, before I knew I would be induced, I was confident that I could have my baby without taking drugs despite the horror stories of pain in childbirth that a few women absolutely insisted on telling me after I asked them not to. I kinda believed that "as long as they don't give me Pitocin, i can do it"-- because every woman who encouraged me in my desire to give birth without drugs supported me because they had a terrible birth experience when given pitocin. Pitocin was the arch enemy and made birth terrible, but I could do it. When my midwife made me face the reality that I would likely be induced (since they would induce at 41 weeks and babies in my family traditionally were 10-14 days late), she encouraged me and let me know of women who still gave birth without getting an epidural or analgesics when given pitocin.

the day I was sent to the hospital to be induced, I was confident that I would TRY to go as long as I could without getting an epidural, and hoped i would have the strength to go through it without getting drugs despite being induced. well, I couldn't. but that doesn't mean that I'm upset with the way thigns were handled. and pitocin didn't make birth a horrible experience. I'm glad I have a happy and healthy baby. And i don't feel disappointed in myself for getting the epidural. I'd still like to try for a non-drug birth next time, but I think all in all, it was definitely worth it.

False Alarm

Well, today we got to have our first practice run for going to the hospital. Woke up this morning about 6:30am with some minor cramps and backache, but they just got progressively worse all morning as i took a shower and got ready to go to school. By 8am, I was late for school, sitting on the couch, telling Brad I didn't want to go to school today-- I was in no condition to teach, I could barely stand up straight. (Luckily, we hired a substitute for me at school just yesterday. She's really getting baptized by fire with teaching!)

We decided to put the hospital bag and carseat in the car, just in case, but that I would still go to school-- afterall, I needed to get leson plans and the assignment for my students to the sub. I had two contractions during the 8 minute car ride to school, and couldn't stand up straight to walk into the school. I got lesson stuff handed off to the sub, fairly quickly, then told Sharon "I'm not staying!"

Brad made me call my midwife, and they recommended I go to the hospital to get checked, just in case because I may or may not be in real labor. Still having contractions while I check in,, but they practically disappear as soon as they hook me up to the external monitor. When the nurse checks me, I'm still dilated to 4cm, 80% effaced, and at a 0 station (same place I was on Monday at my last midwife appointment). I tell the nurse I want to go home, and so they let me go-- but I may or may not be back tonight. Apparently I've progressed really far for a first timer without any pain or complications so far, and I figure that awesome!

Naomi, make up your mind-- either hurry up and come, or stop tricking mommy and daddy. We're busy and can't just run to the hospital for a couple hours! just kidding-- we'd do any thing for you, kiddo. We love you lots and are really excited to finally meet you face to face. xoxo

Almost to the Finish Line!

So I had my 38 week check-up with my midwife yesterday. They offered to check my for dilation, I didn't think anything had happened, but Brad was curious, so I said, "Sure, go ahead."

I was already dilated to 4 cm! Now this surprised me, cuz I 've been thinking-- where are those Braxton-Hicks contractions people are complaining about by this time? I'm feeling great, no signs of going into labor. Why do people complain so much... this really isn't bad at all! Just earlier that day, someone told me I couldn't be 38 weeks pregnant because I seemed to happy and comfortable. apparently I couldn't be 2 weeks from my due date because I wasn't miserable, at least according to nearly everyone I've talked to lately.

Well, I'm feeling good. Last night was the first time I felt remotely sick-- I actually threw up everything, and I mean EVERYTHING, I had eaten that day in the bath tub while brushing my teeth. Never had morning sickness, but wow. And a few more unpleasant signs that I might go into labor soon, but I'm sure no one wants to know about that.

I think I've finally started getting a dull back ache that I've been warned of, adn I've been trying really hard to pay attention to my body to notice if I'm having contractions-- turns out I am, but I must have a high tolerance for what people could call pain. This isn't painful, it's just some light pressure and tightening.

So baby Naomi, mommy and daddy have started to actually believe that you might come soon. I've started writing the birth plan, and today I plan on finally packing that hospital bag. MAybe even get your carseat put in the car. After I do the laundry, of course. And vacuum out the car. And organize the still unpacked boxes. And do a number of other things. We love you, Naomi, and are very excited to meet you in the coming weeks... maybe days.

Family Miracles

This has been a rather busy weekend. Last weekend we got the sad news that Brad's uncle Mike passed away after a 21 month battle with leukemia. We just left the temple after doing sealings as we got the call from Brad's mom. The entire time in the temple, I was thinking to myself how great a blessing it is that my family is sealed together for eternity. I contemplated when I was sealed to my parents, and when Brad and I were married, and about how little Naomi and all her future siblings will be tied to us for eternity.

While at Uncle Mike's funeral, my thoughts turned back to my great grandma's funeral. I can't say that there was a big difference in how things were organized, but the difference I noticed was very spiritual. I remember much crying, sadness, grief, and even depression at my grandma's funeral. I remember people saying that they think she's in heaven and hope to see her again someday. She passed away after a long battle with cancer also; I think she was in her mid-70s or so in age. She led a full life and was loved by her family. We knew she was going to pass, but it didn't stop the overwhelming pain of her loss.
I felt something different at Uncle Mike's funeral-- and I don't know if it was just because it was Brad's family instead of my own, but amidst all the grief, there was still something ... happy?... in the feelings that were expressed. They were strengthened through the comfort of angels and family and friends. There were many tears, but there were still smiles that shined through. Uncle Mike was in his mid-50's (I think), and still had a young family. Uncle Mike's family had a knowledge and strong faith that their husband/father/brother was still with them. Even though death had taken him from his life on earth, they KNEW that he was still tied to them in a way that was stronger than death. He is missed, but not gone. Our Father in Heaven gave us families, and he gave us a way to stay tied to them. The Atonement of Christ, His Son, has made it possible for each of us to conquer death, return to our families, and live with God again.

I also thought about the days leading up to my grandma's and uncle mike's death. Before my grandma passed, I felt this positive energy. I kept thinking that it was because God had a miracle planned for her; that she would be healed despite all the doctor's opinions that she would be gone soon. I've heard from Uncle Mike's family that they felt the same thing as they received news that his lungs were dying and he didn't have much time. I suddenly realized something that I had been asking myself since my grandma died. I had been asking-- was my faith not strong enough to save her? give her the miracle that I knew Heavenly Father had waiting? Was I just crazy, fooling myself into thinking I felt comfort and positive energy at the close of my grandma's life???

no.

I finally realized, after a few years of growing up and looking at the same experience from a different angle, that the positive energy and hope that I felt was real. I wasn't crazy, and neither was uncle mike's family. That positive energy and hope was just the Lord's angels telling us that even though our loved one was leaving, that it would be okay. It was the Lord's plan all along, and He was there to comfort us each in our time of need. the good feelings were not a promise of the miracle of healing, but it was the miracle of being able to feel the Spirit of the Lord and have the comfort of His angels. The miracle of being able to communicate with our Father in Heaven, and to know His will, and to know that He loves us.

I know God loves me. And I know He loves my family, and Brad's family, and uncle Mike's family, and everyone. I know He wants us to be happy and He has a plan in place to make that happen. It doesn't mean that we won't feel grief and sadness in our lives, but we can survive it. We can live and grow and become better if we follow His plan. It's a miracle. In the midst of the sadness after uncle mike's passing and reliving the memories of my grandma's passing, I still feel hope and happiness. I share these things in the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.

It's Just a Little Cold

It's just a little cold. no biggie, right?
Last week, starting about Tuesday night, I started feeling just a bit under the weather. Nothing serious that a good night's sleep couldn't fix. But I'm student teaching and hopelessly devoted to being the best student teacher i can be-- so I stayed up late working on lesson plans.

Wednesday came. I began a bad cough, so Brad insisted I go to the doctor. Dr says it's just a minor respiratory virus that kids have been getting but that adults can usually shake off pretty easy. I may just feel yucky a little while because I'm pregnant, and have asthma, and Utah has the worst air quality in the country. I was home by 3pm when Brad practically had to force me to eat lunch, then fell asleep until 8pm. I even skipped Brad's last hockey game of the season! I was back asleep by 10:30pm. All lesson planning was thrown out the window and I picked some movies for the kids to watch at school the next day. I at least put thought into what movies I would show; none of that watching Aladin in US Gov!

Thursday came with a vengence. I was coughing and exhausted, but went to school anyway because it was a short day and I figured I could make it till 12:30pm. US Gov watched "A More Perfect Union," Psychology watched "A Beautiful Mind," and my revolutions class started reading "The Communist Manifesto." After getting home, I promptly fell asleep until 8-ish. I woke up with some energy, so I spent an hour washing dishes that I had neglected the past couple of days, then collapsed on the floor of the kitchen in tears, realizing that I hadn't eaten since 8:30am. I was starving my poor, unborn baby. I am a horrible mother to a child that isn't even born yet! Gotta love those pregnancy hormones! And I couldn't even think of something I wanted to eat or had the energy to cook. Brad got home from class about 10:45pm, found his emotionally wrecked wife, and took me out to get hamburgers. I promptly collapsed into bed by 12:30am.

Friday morning, I woke up miserable, coughing, tired, and having difficulty breathing. But I still got ready for school. When I woke up Brad to take me to class, he refused to let me go. Instead, he calls the school director and my mentor teacher and tells them I'm too sick to go in. He agrees to take in the movies, but I have to stay home. I fight about it until the last second, insisting I could still go and just show movies like I did Thursday, but that ends when I have an asthma attack, start coughing uncontrollably, and can't breath. I go back to bed and wake up at 10-ish; Brad called his aunt June and she calls in a bunch of prescriptions for me-- a new inhaler, an asthma controller, cough syrup, and a short round of antibiotics (just in case); and Brad drives to Park City to borrow a humidifier from her to help me breath easier. While he's gone, I go back to sleep on the couch-- dozing in and out of consciousness for the rest of the day while watching "The 10th Kingdom."

Saturday and Sunday was much the same thing-- lots of sleep, except Sunday I stayed up til 12:30am because I realized that I have classes again in the morning and haven't planned ANYTHING! This Monday morning, I wake up after a horrible night's sleep and again, can't stop coughing. But I somehow convince Brad that my coughing isn't as bad as last week and I can do it. He drives me to school, but insists that he walk me inside-- I still can't stop coughing and I'm about to fall asleep while walking up the stairs to my classes. My mentor and the school director tell me to leave my lesson plans with them and they'll find someone to cover my classes for the day. When I get back home, I sleep from 9am-2pm. Brad makes me lunch, and now I'm sitting here, still coughing, planning more lessons and hoping I can get back to teaching tomorrow.

Parent-teacher conferences are this week-- gotta get ready! Just a little cold can be a big deal.

On Teaching and Being Preggers

So, I'm fully in the midst of student teaching, and beginning my third trimester of being pregnant. What a roller coaster I am on! Those in the teaching world have called my situation "baptism by fire"-- I started teaching my very own classes on day 1 of student teaching. Somethings have gone really well-- somethings that I thought would be problems aren't which makes me really happy. But on the flip side, there are things happening that I never would have imagined.

I stay up till midnight planning and wake up at 5:30am to do some more planning before classes start at 8:30am. I have 1st period US Government, 2nd period Financial Literacy (co-taught with my mentor teacher), 3rd period US Government, 4th period Psychology, 5th period revolutions through History, and prep period during 6th and 7th (for now anyway. I'll prolly be teaching another section of US gov next term). It's a full day. And being pregnant complicates matters-- like the fact that I need to eat small snacks throughout the day, but don't have time. Yesterday, I didn't bring any extra snacks other than my lunch-- and after school I had a student teacher meeting. No extra food, no time to pick something up, and no refreshments at the meeting. Needless to say, I was terribly nauseous by 5pm and the meeting didn't get out till close to 6pm. Driving home, I almost passed out, but luckily a friend called me and kept me conscious for the drive home until I could grab the quickest and easiest thing to eat. After picking up my dear husband from class at 8:15pm, I went home and quickly fell asleep. I didn't get any planning done for my classes the next day, so I woke up at 5am to prep for all of my classes.

NOTE: planning 3 lessons in 3 hours for 3 different classes is a recipe for disaster. Luckily, my BYU professor came to visit me yesterday so I didn't need to be on my best for her review-- but still, my kids deserve better. This weekend is all about planning the best lessons ever. For my kids, and also for my Teacher Work Sample.

I have also started knocking things over with my ever expanding baby belly. Wish me luck!