So, just for kicks, I was reading some of my archived posts...
Kids, I was witty. Even, dare I say it, interesting.
I know.
What the heck happened?
Blessings and love,
Erin
Thursday, October 08, 2009
Wednesday, October 07, 2009
And Yet, I am Unmoved
Okay, so the title of this post has nothing to do with what I'm writing about, I just love that particular moment in a favorite book of mine. (bonus points to anyone who knows what it is!)
So time has continued to march on and life here in the Brazofsky household has pretty much stayed the same. Matt is busy (what's new?), but good, Levi is getting busier, but good and I am busy, but good.
Fall has definitely arrived and I am SO loving it. Fall is, without question, my favorite season. There's just something about it that makes me want to do anything and everything cozy and warm. It brings out the urge to bake every day, wear nubby sweaters, drink hot chocolate, coffee and apple cider, kick leaves, go for brisk walks and light every candle in the house. Anyone feel me on this?
And it always makes me stop and take pause over what I'm thankful for (you know, with Thanksgiving around the corner and all).
There's always the "normal" stuff--husband, house, food on the table, wonderful baby boy, family, friends, church....and that's not to say that those things SHOULDN'T be appreciated, because, by golly, do I know how blessed I am.
I mean more introspective things. Fall makes me take an internal inventory of ways God has grown me in the past year. And 2008 was a doozy of a year, personally and emotionally speaking.
But this morning I got to thinking: why do I only do this once a year? Shouldn't I be thanking God in all circumstances instead of just remembering things?
I'm doing a Beth Moore study at my church this fall, and so far, it's been an excellent study. It's called 'Beloved Disciple' and it's about the disciple John. One of the days this week we looked at the crucifixion and resurrection of Christ and she really challenged us to stop and really put ourselves in that moment. We all know the story and so it's easy for our minds to fill in what we're reading (or glossing over), so when she was talking about (this is in the workbook) when Jesus appeared to the disciples and showed them His scars, she said (and I'm paraphrasing here) that Jesus knew their finite minds and that they would need to see the scars on His hands and side to know that it was really Him. Nothing earth shattering there. I think we all would be the same way and have thought about it like that before. What she said next was what really got me thinking. Basically, isn't it like our human nature to expect when someone takes a "beating", whether physical or emotional, that we expect the scars and wounds to disappear as if it never happened? That the healing would erase everything? And yet, Jesus still had His scars.
WOW.
Now, don't get me wrong. I do believe with all my heart that God wants to take our hurts and heal us from trials and our past, but this really started me thinking about the expectations I have for myself. That even though I have past hurts and emotional scars of my own, since I'm a Christian, they should be gone. And so this discovery has really given me a sense of freedom I haven't felt in a long time. It's okay to be ME. Hallelujah! ;)
So we'll see how this changes/affects me in the long run, but I'm excited to see where God takes me.
In other news, I have decided to take a month long break from TV, the only exception is that I'm allowed to watch football on Saturdays and Sundays. Matt has been wanting for a very long time for us to stop watching TV, and I finally got to the point where I realized I should take a break. I didn't realize how much time I was allowing the TV to suck from my life. I mean, it's unreal. You should see the house! Seriously. I have had so much time to do other things during the day (not that daytime TV is any good anyways--WHAT was I thinking watching all those court shows?), that this morning, I cleaned and organized the ATTIC. And now I'm blogging. The house is spotless, the laundry is done, the dishes are done, the bills are paid, I know what I'm making for dinner, I had my quiet time, played with Levi, put him down for a nap and CLEANED THE ATTIC. Yeah, I'm loving this "free" time.
But there are times that I miss TV. For example, I am DYING to know what is going on on The Biggest Loser, but I'm not even allowing myself to read about TV shows, because that will become my replacement for TV and the whole point is for me to spend more time with Matt, Levi and God. So wish me luck, ya'll. It's only day 3, and I don't know how much more cleaning the house can take. ;)
Okay, that's about it from me. I could continue rambling, but then what good would that serve?
I'm hoping to get back to putting up 'Erin in Love' installments, so keep an eye out for them. Who knows? With this 'no watching TV' thing, I may have more time for blogging and pestering you all.
Blessings and love,
Erin
So time has continued to march on and life here in the Brazofsky household has pretty much stayed the same. Matt is busy (what's new?), but good, Levi is getting busier, but good and I am busy, but good.
Fall has definitely arrived and I am SO loving it. Fall is, without question, my favorite season. There's just something about it that makes me want to do anything and everything cozy and warm. It brings out the urge to bake every day, wear nubby sweaters, drink hot chocolate, coffee and apple cider, kick leaves, go for brisk walks and light every candle in the house. Anyone feel me on this?
And it always makes me stop and take pause over what I'm thankful for (you know, with Thanksgiving around the corner and all).
There's always the "normal" stuff--husband, house, food on the table, wonderful baby boy, family, friends, church....and that's not to say that those things SHOULDN'T be appreciated, because, by golly, do I know how blessed I am.
I mean more introspective things. Fall makes me take an internal inventory of ways God has grown me in the past year. And 2008 was a doozy of a year, personally and emotionally speaking.
But this morning I got to thinking: why do I only do this once a year? Shouldn't I be thanking God in all circumstances instead of just remembering things?
I'm doing a Beth Moore study at my church this fall, and so far, it's been an excellent study. It's called 'Beloved Disciple' and it's about the disciple John. One of the days this week we looked at the crucifixion and resurrection of Christ and she really challenged us to stop and really put ourselves in that moment. We all know the story and so it's easy for our minds to fill in what we're reading (or glossing over), so when she was talking about (this is in the workbook) when Jesus appeared to the disciples and showed them His scars, she said (and I'm paraphrasing here) that Jesus knew their finite minds and that they would need to see the scars on His hands and side to know that it was really Him. Nothing earth shattering there. I think we all would be the same way and have thought about it like that before. What she said next was what really got me thinking. Basically, isn't it like our human nature to expect when someone takes a "beating", whether physical or emotional, that we expect the scars and wounds to disappear as if it never happened? That the healing would erase everything? And yet, Jesus still had His scars.
WOW.
Now, don't get me wrong. I do believe with all my heart that God wants to take our hurts and heal us from trials and our past, but this really started me thinking about the expectations I have for myself. That even though I have past hurts and emotional scars of my own, since I'm a Christian, they should be gone. And so this discovery has really given me a sense of freedom I haven't felt in a long time. It's okay to be ME. Hallelujah! ;)
So we'll see how this changes/affects me in the long run, but I'm excited to see where God takes me.
In other news, I have decided to take a month long break from TV, the only exception is that I'm allowed to watch football on Saturdays and Sundays. Matt has been wanting for a very long time for us to stop watching TV, and I finally got to the point where I realized I should take a break. I didn't realize how much time I was allowing the TV to suck from my life. I mean, it's unreal. You should see the house! Seriously. I have had so much time to do other things during the day (not that daytime TV is any good anyways--WHAT was I thinking watching all those court shows?), that this morning, I cleaned and organized the ATTIC. And now I'm blogging. The house is spotless, the laundry is done, the dishes are done, the bills are paid, I know what I'm making for dinner, I had my quiet time, played with Levi, put him down for a nap and CLEANED THE ATTIC. Yeah, I'm loving this "free" time.
But there are times that I miss TV. For example, I am DYING to know what is going on on The Biggest Loser, but I'm not even allowing myself to read about TV shows, because that will become my replacement for TV and the whole point is for me to spend more time with Matt, Levi and God. So wish me luck, ya'll. It's only day 3, and I don't know how much more cleaning the house can take. ;)
Okay, that's about it from me. I could continue rambling, but then what good would that serve?
I'm hoping to get back to putting up 'Erin in Love' installments, so keep an eye out for them. Who knows? With this 'no watching TV' thing, I may have more time for blogging and pestering you all.
Blessings and love,
Erin
Wednesday, September 09, 2009
The Devil...No, not THAT Devil
So I think that Facebook is the new devil.
Well, not the devil devil but you know, the devil.
Because you see, I spend WAY too much time on Facebook seeing what my friends (hi, ya'll!) are doing and reading one liners about what kind of bagel they had for breakfast, what they are doing for the weekend, how much they hate (insert sports team here), how the kids are doing and oh yes, that they are making chocolate chip cookies, that I "don't have time" to blog. Or email. Or call people.
"I'll just Facebook you!"
When did Facebook become a verb?
Anywho, so that's partly why I haven't been blogging.
As for the other part, well, you know, I have a baby. An all-consuming, 24 hours a day job that requires copious amounts of my attention for some strange reason.
Housework? Forget it. I need to watch Levi drool on his cute little outfit.
Cooking? Matt can have PB&J for all I care! Levi needs to spit up on me again so I have to change my outfit.
Reading? Nope. Got to make sure that Levi is properly stimulated and screams for 5 minutes because I'm a bad mommy that makes him have "tummy time".
You know, all of that could read like I'm super mad or stressed about my life, but I'm really not.
I LOVE being a momma. And I especially love being Levi's momma. And all kidding aside, the housework DOES get done, I DO get to cook regular, real meals and I still manage to have reading/knitting/TV time for me. Some days it just FEELS like I'm in the vortex of a very small 25 inch high man.
Before we change topics, I will give you the obligatory Levi update. (I know you're all excited...you can quit trying to hide it.) We had his 4-month check-up today (he was officially 4 months on the 1st) and he now weighs in at 15 lbs. 3 oz., 25 inches long and his head is 16.5 inches around. On the whole VERY AVERAGE. Yay Levi! He also apparently is advanced because he can grab his feet and stick them in his mouth. Who knew this was such a skill? He's also advanced because he can do a "tripod"...essentially he can "sit up" but since he doesn't have the strength to actually sit up, he folds in half, but is balanced. Yay for folding in half, buddy! :) His pedi said he is a "beautiful boy" (what mother in their right mind would argue with that statement?), is "very strong", will most likely be crawling before his 6-month check-up (um, I think he can slow down on that one), and is a "busy" guy. So there you go. My rockstar baby as summed up by his pedi.
Life on the whole is very, very good. I am very thankful that I am able to be at home with Levi and that we had Matt around essentially the whole summer. I'm really glad for him that he got to spend so much time with Levi now that school and piano lessons have started back up full force. His schedule is much nicer than it has been in a couple of years, so I'm glad for that....it's hard to schedule stuff when you're teaching at a college and you have around 40 families that you teach piano for. Not to mention Bible study and leading the junior high and having family time. But anyways, we are thankful he's busy and that he's got work!
I have been reading all of your blogs (even though I've been a BAD commenter), so I feel caught up with all of you for the most part, and I promise I'm going to start commenting again. I really feel convicted about that. And I'm hoping to blog more, too. Why do I even have the blog if I'm not going to post? Just be patient with me, okay? It may take awhile. ;)
Okay, so before I go, I want to share this concoction I made last night for dinner. I've made it before for Matt and he LURVES it (yes, lurves)...I'm sure I didn't create this, but in my head I did since the first time I made it, I just did it without a recipe and from the top of my head without having anything like it before. (Don't you think that means I did really create it?) If any of you make it, tell me if you liked it and what you would do to improve it, okay? (Trish, I'm especially looking to you, here.) Oh, and change quantities as needed--I guesstimated because I don't really measure. Shhh. Don't tell anyone.
Bourbon Chicken w/Mushrooms
2 boneless, skinless chicken breasts (cleaned and trimmed)
~1/4-1/2 cup bourbon
~1/2 -1 cup thinly sliced white mushrooms
~2 tsp. garlic powder
a good squeeze of mustard
~2 tbsp. butter (or slightly more)
~1/4 cup cream (or half/half; maybe slightly less than 1/4 c.)
pepper and salt, to taste
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Heat a medium sized skillet over medium-low heat and melt butter. In a bowl, combine bourbon, mustard, garlic powder, salt and pepper. Sear chicken breasts in butter till both sides have a nice golden color (they won't be cooked all the way through). Once chicken breasts have been seared, turn heat down to low and add bourbon mixture and mushrooms to the skillet. Let sit for a couple of minutes, then put in a baking dish.
Bake, uncovered, till chicken breasts are cooked through and juices are clear.
I usually serve this with salad or potatoes. I have also made this omitting the cream and it's been just as good.
Blessings and love,
Erin
Well, not the devil devil but you know, the devil.
Because you see, I spend WAY too much time on Facebook seeing what my friends (hi, ya'll!) are doing and reading one liners about what kind of bagel they had for breakfast, what they are doing for the weekend, how much they hate (insert sports team here), how the kids are doing and oh yes, that they are making chocolate chip cookies, that I "don't have time" to blog. Or email. Or call people.
"I'll just Facebook you!"
When did Facebook become a verb?
Anywho, so that's partly why I haven't been blogging.
As for the other part, well, you know, I have a baby. An all-consuming, 24 hours a day job that requires copious amounts of my attention for some strange reason.
Housework? Forget it. I need to watch Levi drool on his cute little outfit.
Cooking? Matt can have PB&J for all I care! Levi needs to spit up on me again so I have to change my outfit.
Reading? Nope. Got to make sure that Levi is properly stimulated and screams for 5 minutes because I'm a bad mommy that makes him have "tummy time".
You know, all of that could read like I'm super mad or stressed about my life, but I'm really not.
I LOVE being a momma. And I especially love being Levi's momma. And all kidding aside, the housework DOES get done, I DO get to cook regular, real meals and I still manage to have reading/knitting/TV time for me. Some days it just FEELS like I'm in the vortex of a very small 25 inch high man.
Before we change topics, I will give you the obligatory Levi update. (I know you're all excited...you can quit trying to hide it.) We had his 4-month check-up today (he was officially 4 months on the 1st) and he now weighs in at 15 lbs. 3 oz., 25 inches long and his head is 16.5 inches around. On the whole VERY AVERAGE. Yay Levi! He also apparently is advanced because he can grab his feet and stick them in his mouth. Who knew this was such a skill? He's also advanced because he can do a "tripod"...essentially he can "sit up" but since he doesn't have the strength to actually sit up, he folds in half, but is balanced. Yay for folding in half, buddy! :) His pedi said he is a "beautiful boy" (what mother in their right mind would argue with that statement?), is "very strong", will most likely be crawling before his 6-month check-up (um, I think he can slow down on that one), and is a "busy" guy. So there you go. My rockstar baby as summed up by his pedi.
Life on the whole is very, very good. I am very thankful that I am able to be at home with Levi and that we had Matt around essentially the whole summer. I'm really glad for him that he got to spend so much time with Levi now that school and piano lessons have started back up full force. His schedule is much nicer than it has been in a couple of years, so I'm glad for that....it's hard to schedule stuff when you're teaching at a college and you have around 40 families that you teach piano for. Not to mention Bible study and leading the junior high and having family time. But anyways, we are thankful he's busy and that he's got work!
I have been reading all of your blogs (even though I've been a BAD commenter), so I feel caught up with all of you for the most part, and I promise I'm going to start commenting again. I really feel convicted about that. And I'm hoping to blog more, too. Why do I even have the blog if I'm not going to post? Just be patient with me, okay? It may take awhile. ;)
Okay, so before I go, I want to share this concoction I made last night for dinner. I've made it before for Matt and he LURVES it (yes, lurves)...I'm sure I didn't create this, but in my head I did since the first time I made it, I just did it without a recipe and from the top of my head without having anything like it before. (Don't you think that means I did really create it?) If any of you make it, tell me if you liked it and what you would do to improve it, okay? (Trish, I'm especially looking to you, here.) Oh, and change quantities as needed--I guesstimated because I don't really measure. Shhh. Don't tell anyone.
Bourbon Chicken w/Mushrooms
2 boneless, skinless chicken breasts (cleaned and trimmed)
~1/4-1/2 cup bourbon
~1/2 -1 cup thinly sliced white mushrooms
~2 tsp. garlic powder
a good squeeze of mustard
~2 tbsp. butter (or slightly more)
~1/4 cup cream (or half/half; maybe slightly less than 1/4 c.)
pepper and salt, to taste
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Heat a medium sized skillet over medium-low heat and melt butter. In a bowl, combine bourbon, mustard, garlic powder, salt and pepper. Sear chicken breasts in butter till both sides have a nice golden color (they won't be cooked all the way through). Once chicken breasts have been seared, turn heat down to low and add bourbon mixture and mushrooms to the skillet. Let sit for a couple of minutes, then put in a baking dish.
Bake, uncovered, till chicken breasts are cooked through and juices are clear.
I usually serve this with salad or potatoes. I have also made this omitting the cream and it's been just as good.
Blessings and love,
Erin
Monday, July 27, 2009
The Story of Levi
Before I get into the gory details of Levi's birth, I want to thank you all for your sweet comments on my previous post. Your support and love has come to mean so much to me, and I can't tell you how I appreciate it.
I am doing much better emotionally, and it was very cathartic for me to write out everything. That said, I promise to seek the help of my doctor should things not continue to improve--I really don't want to worry any of you.
And now, for the good stuff! :)
On April 29th (which was my original due date, by the way), I spent the day doing much of what I always did before Levi's arrival: cleaned up the house, did some reading and tried to figure out what to make for dinner, wait for Matt to come home.
I was also extremely discouraged because my due date (Monday the 27th) had come and gone and there was zero activity on the labor front. I was so ready to have the baby out and to be done being pregnant. I also had another OB appointment scheduled for Thursday to check to see if I had progressed any and if not, Friday would have brought an NST to check the baby.
Matt came home and I think we had leftovers for dinner and then he had piano lessons from 6-7:30 here at the house. When he has piano lessons here, I hole myself upstairs and spend that time blogging, checking my email and all that good stuff. So as I was reading blogs and checking my email, I noticed I was having "twinges", but I chalked them up to Braxton Hicks contractions. However, as the hour and a half kept progressing, I realized that they weren't as irregular as I thought and at 7:20 I decided I should start timing them. After half an hour of timing, I decided that I was definitely in early labor and the contractions were at that point 10 minutes apart.
Matt came upstairs after his last lesson and I told him that I was pretty sure I was in labor and he said, "Well, let's go for a walk and we'll keep timing them to make sure it's not just Braxton Hicks." (so very much like a man! ha.) We went for our walk and pretty much every 10 minutes I was having a contraction. So when we got back, I called my mom and told her that I was in labor, but not to drive out here yet and Matt called his parents to tell them and to have them pray.
At 10:30 that night, I decided to go to bed and at 3:00 am decided to get back up because I realized I was being woken up by increasingly stronger contractions and they were coming every 7-8 minutes apart.
Matt woke up at about 7 and came down to check on me and I told him that they were still 7-8 minutes apart, but some were coming after 5 minutes, and he decided to cancel his class for the day. After much debating, we decided I should keep my doctor's appointment so we could have confirmation that I really was in labor and to see how far things had progressed since the night before. We also loaded up the car just in case my doctor decided to send me straight to the hospital (we didn't think that would happen).
At the doctor's office, I did the usual weight check and all that and I told the nurse as we were going back that I was pretty sure I was in labor and she said, "Oh, that's nice!" I don't think she really understood the urgency of the situation for me, but at any rate, instead of waiting the usual million years for the doctor to come to the exam room, she was there in about 5 minutes with a greeting of, "So, I hear you think you're in labor!" Um, yes.
She asked me how far apart contractions were and she examined me and said I was 2 1/2 cm dilated and 90% effaced and to go home and wait till the contractions were steadily 5 minutes apart and then to call the office to let them know we were heading to the hospital. At this point, I knew it was on.
After we ran some errands and got home, we had lunch and talked about how weird it was to think that the baby could be coming that very day and that this was the last day of our lives without the baby being here. After lunch, we both took a short nap and woke up to my good friend Joy dropping off a hospital care package (I had called to let our Bible study friends that I was in labor and to have them pray). We visited with her and Micah (her son) for about 45 minutes and then decided to go on a walk.
This walk was a lot different than the walk the previous night...in the middle of the walk, the contractions started getting so strong that I had to stop walking and concentrate on breathing through them. The pain was still really manageable, though, and the breathing definitely helped.
On our way back, we saw our neighbor who asked how much longer we had till the baby came and looked so shocked when we told her I was actually in labor at that point. Ha! After talking with her, we went inside and decided to play cards.
We were playing cards for awhile and I was still having to pause and really focus on the contraction and breathing and then all of a sudden, Matt says to me, "I think we need to go to the hospital." I asked him why and he said, "Because you can't remember how long it's been since the previous contraction and you're forgetting that you've already told me things."
So as I was still laboring through the contractions, he called the doctor's office to tell them that we were heading in, and the nurse he spoke to said, "So! I understand you think your wife is in labor!" He politely said, "She really is in labor, and I'm just calling to tell you that we're going to the hospital now." He wasn't a happy camper and told me that he felt like saying, "I don't think she's in labor, I KNOW she's in labor!"
We locked up the house and headed to the hospital and the whole time I just kept thinking how this isn't real and maybe I wasn't ready after all. I was still having really difficult contractions about 3-5 minutes apart and I couldn't talk through them anymore and Matt was really jumpy on the car ride in.
We get to the parking garage and my mom calls me....of course, the parking garage is a dead zone and I lose reception. She calls me back as I'm getting out of the car and she starts crying because I can't talk through the contractions and because she's still in Ohio. I got off the phone with her and Matt told her that he would call her back once we were settled in the hospital room.
We make it to the elevators in the hospital and I keep having these intense contractions and all I can do is breathe and literally stare at Matt. Of course, we have to wait what felt like an eternity for the elevator to come, and as we're waiting I realize in between contractions that all these people around us are staring at me. One sweet lady, bless her heart, asked me if I needed a wheelchair. I said no and thanked her and she said, "Sweetie, you're doing much better than I would be if I were in your shoes!"
When we got to the labor and delivery floor, we went to the triage station and Matt gave them our information. As we're waiting for them to bring it up, I whispered to Matt to not let them send me home. At that moment, the thought of going home was unbearable to me and I was terrified they would check me and say, "Go home and come back later." Matt assured me they weren't going to send me home, and right after that the triage nurse comes up and says that they're all full and she's going to call the labor unit and see if they can just take me now without me being in triage. So she calls down there and talks to the nurse and says, "Well, it's her first pregnancy, so you know it will take a while and I figure you all can just as easily send her home from there as we can from here," and I just about lost it. She hangs up the phone and sends us down to the labor and delivery unit and we are taken to a room where the nurse says, "What we're going to do is have a doctor check you and determine if you're going to stay here or go home. If we decide to keep you (um, excuse me? I'm not going anywhere once you put me in a gown and in that bed!), this will be your room." The doctor comes in and checks me and announces that I'm 4-5 cm dilated (she can stretch me to 5) and completely effaced. I was officially admitted and given a wristband and all that jazz. This was about 5:30 pm.
After we got settled, I decided to try the jacuzzi tub for awhile. It was really helpful, actually, but the water temp was way too hot at first and so I felt far more toasty and sweaty than I had outside of the tub! After laboring in there for awhile, I got out and went back to the bed and tried to continue to relax and breathe through everything. And here is where time runs away from me.
I had a sweet British nurse who kept saying to everyone who would come in the room to check on me that I was as nice as could be unless a contraction came and then I was "very focused and wouldn't talk." The doctors also kept asking Matt and me if we wanted to come back and teach their Lamaze class--I guess we were pretty impressive. Ha.
The nurse also kept asking me if I wanted an epidural, and I know she was doing her job, so I wasn't irritated by it, but my plan all along had been to see if I could do it without the epidural and so far, I was doing just fine, so I declined.
Matt suggested that we walk around the floor some, and even though I didn't want to, I agreed and we made it one time around the floor....for me, walking was NOT helpful. I did go back to the tub, though, for a little while more and then after I got out of the tub, the contractions really started coming close together and were a lot more painful. At this point, I decided that I did want the epidural only so that I could get some rest before having to push. Matt rang for the nurse and she got everything ordered and while we were waiting, I had this really hard contraction and Matt was counting with his fingers (we were doing "hee, hee, hee, hoo" and he would switch it up with his fingers) and I cut him off mid-contraction because my water finally broke. I believe my exact words were, "You have to stop and go get the nurse! My water broke!"
After that I asked to be checked and I was 8 cm dilated and that was when the anesthesiologist came in to do the epi. Right before he came in though, I was sitting on the edge of the bed and I couldn't stop shaking. I wasn't cold, but every fiber and muscle in my entire body was shaking. The nurse said this was transition. Fun stuff, transition. Everything went fine with the epidural and the nurses changed again and I had to wear oxygen because the baby wasn't getting enough, apparently.
Even though I wasn't feeling any more pain, I didn't sleep any because after my water broke, with each contraction, the baby's head would push against the umbilical cord and the heart rate would drop. This caused a whole bunch of people to keep coming in and checking things out and they had me shifting positions to see if that would help matters. It didn't. Eventually, they had to pump fluid back into me to provide a cushion for the baby's head during contractions and an internal monitor was used to keep an eye on the heartbeat. Matt was zonked pretty much through most of this, thankfully. Poor guy was really beat.
So I spent a lot of time talking to the nurse and praying and being turned every which way but upside down and then some doctors came in because of the heartbeat stuff and they decided that they were going to have me push just once so they could see what kind of a pusher I was. And yes, Matt was still asleep. Our nurse asked me if I wanted her to wake him up, but not thinking that this would be the start of the pushing, I said no. Whoops!
So they had me push and they all started commenting on what a great pusher I was, which totally shocked me, because I expected to be a wuss. They also checked me and I was 9 cm at that point with a very thin lip of cervix that went away when I pushed, so they decided that I would start pushing!
I then asked for Matt to please come over and I started pushing.
Oh boy.
When you are told that you can't practice for pushing and that it's impossible to describe the sensation or pressure you feel, you don't really know what to expect, but you think of something in your mind (or at least I did) and think that it will be a certain way. IT IS NOTHING LIKE YOU COULD IMAGINE OR WILL EVER BE ABLE TO DESCRIBE. Seriously.
And, just to make things more interesting, when I started pushing, I could feel everything on the right side of my body. By the time Levi was born, I could feel everything on BOTH sides. The epidural completely wore off.
So I'm pushing and pushing and pushing. And they keep telling me what an amazing pusher I am and that there is a lot of progress, as the baby's head is moving MILLIMETERS. Can I just tell you how discouraging that was to hear? It felt like the baby's head was going to pop out any minute and they are telling me I'm only pushing it millimeters.....oy vey.
At one point, I manage to open my eyes (because I didn't even have the strength or energy to open my eyes at all after I started pushing) and look at Matt and tell him that I can't do it anymore and to please let them cut me open and take the baby out.
My loving, wonderful, awesome, amazing husband took one look at me and turned into complete coach-in-the-4th-quarter-with-the-game-on-the-line mode and said very firmly and pointed his finger at me, "Look at me. You are DOING this. You CAN do this. I am with you. God is with you. You ARE DOING THIS."
My response?
"Okay."
And then after a total time of a little less than an hour of pushing and 31 hours of total labor, the baby's head came out, and then fairly quickly the rest of him did. Official time of birth: 2:18 am; 7 lbs. 5 oz. and 19.5 inches long.
I was too relieved to be done pushing and too exhausted to cry, but I remember anxiously waiting to hear if it was a boy or girl and the doctor looked at Matt and said, "Do you want to tell her what it is?" and with tears in his eyes, Matt turned to me and half-whispered, half-cried, "It's a boy!"
I was so surprised to hear that it was a boy because Matt was so convinced it was a girl and I can honestly say that it was the biggest surprise of my life and I would wait to find out all over again.
We had a lot of visitors the next couple of days and I was actually held one more day because strangely enough, they thought I was pre-eclamptic AFTER giving birth. But my blood pressure came down enough to be released on Monday morning and we arrived home that afternoon to balloons and my parents videoing and lots of food and well wishes.
I really can't complain about my labor and birthing experience and to look at the little man now and think back on the nine months he was inside of me is so surreal. I'm not anxious to do it again anytime soon, but I know that there will be a next time. Every time I see Levi smile at me, I think of how completely worth it it all was.
Blessings and love,
Erin
ps. friend of Matt's from BG that was at our wedding--when was your baby born? Matt would love to hear from you and the good news! his email address is still the same, so when you get a chance, shoot him a line. And thank you for the card--Matt was so surprised! :)
I am doing much better emotionally, and it was very cathartic for me to write out everything. That said, I promise to seek the help of my doctor should things not continue to improve--I really don't want to worry any of you.
And now, for the good stuff! :)
On April 29th (which was my original due date, by the way), I spent the day doing much of what I always did before Levi's arrival: cleaned up the house, did some reading and tried to figure out what to make for dinner, wait for Matt to come home.
I was also extremely discouraged because my due date (Monday the 27th) had come and gone and there was zero activity on the labor front. I was so ready to have the baby out and to be done being pregnant. I also had another OB appointment scheduled for Thursday to check to see if I had progressed any and if not, Friday would have brought an NST to check the baby.
Matt came home and I think we had leftovers for dinner and then he had piano lessons from 6-7:30 here at the house. When he has piano lessons here, I hole myself upstairs and spend that time blogging, checking my email and all that good stuff. So as I was reading blogs and checking my email, I noticed I was having "twinges", but I chalked them up to Braxton Hicks contractions. However, as the hour and a half kept progressing, I realized that they weren't as irregular as I thought and at 7:20 I decided I should start timing them. After half an hour of timing, I decided that I was definitely in early labor and the contractions were at that point 10 minutes apart.
Matt came upstairs after his last lesson and I told him that I was pretty sure I was in labor and he said, "Well, let's go for a walk and we'll keep timing them to make sure it's not just Braxton Hicks." (so very much like a man! ha.) We went for our walk and pretty much every 10 minutes I was having a contraction. So when we got back, I called my mom and told her that I was in labor, but not to drive out here yet and Matt called his parents to tell them and to have them pray.
At 10:30 that night, I decided to go to bed and at 3:00 am decided to get back up because I realized I was being woken up by increasingly stronger contractions and they were coming every 7-8 minutes apart.
Matt woke up at about 7 and came down to check on me and I told him that they were still 7-8 minutes apart, but some were coming after 5 minutes, and he decided to cancel his class for the day. After much debating, we decided I should keep my doctor's appointment so we could have confirmation that I really was in labor and to see how far things had progressed since the night before. We also loaded up the car just in case my doctor decided to send me straight to the hospital (we didn't think that would happen).
At the doctor's office, I did the usual weight check and all that and I told the nurse as we were going back that I was pretty sure I was in labor and she said, "Oh, that's nice!" I don't think she really understood the urgency of the situation for me, but at any rate, instead of waiting the usual million years for the doctor to come to the exam room, she was there in about 5 minutes with a greeting of, "So, I hear you think you're in labor!" Um, yes.
She asked me how far apart contractions were and she examined me and said I was 2 1/2 cm dilated and 90% effaced and to go home and wait till the contractions were steadily 5 minutes apart and then to call the office to let them know we were heading to the hospital. At this point, I knew it was on.
After we ran some errands and got home, we had lunch and talked about how weird it was to think that the baby could be coming that very day and that this was the last day of our lives without the baby being here. After lunch, we both took a short nap and woke up to my good friend Joy dropping off a hospital care package (I had called to let our Bible study friends that I was in labor and to have them pray). We visited with her and Micah (her son) for about 45 minutes and then decided to go on a walk.
This walk was a lot different than the walk the previous night...in the middle of the walk, the contractions started getting so strong that I had to stop walking and concentrate on breathing through them. The pain was still really manageable, though, and the breathing definitely helped.
On our way back, we saw our neighbor who asked how much longer we had till the baby came and looked so shocked when we told her I was actually in labor at that point. Ha! After talking with her, we went inside and decided to play cards.
We were playing cards for awhile and I was still having to pause and really focus on the contraction and breathing and then all of a sudden, Matt says to me, "I think we need to go to the hospital." I asked him why and he said, "Because you can't remember how long it's been since the previous contraction and you're forgetting that you've already told me things."
So as I was still laboring through the contractions, he called the doctor's office to tell them that we were heading in, and the nurse he spoke to said, "So! I understand you think your wife is in labor!" He politely said, "She really is in labor, and I'm just calling to tell you that we're going to the hospital now." He wasn't a happy camper and told me that he felt like saying, "I don't think she's in labor, I KNOW she's in labor!"
We locked up the house and headed to the hospital and the whole time I just kept thinking how this isn't real and maybe I wasn't ready after all. I was still having really difficult contractions about 3-5 minutes apart and I couldn't talk through them anymore and Matt was really jumpy on the car ride in.
We get to the parking garage and my mom calls me....of course, the parking garage is a dead zone and I lose reception. She calls me back as I'm getting out of the car and she starts crying because I can't talk through the contractions and because she's still in Ohio. I got off the phone with her and Matt told her that he would call her back once we were settled in the hospital room.
We make it to the elevators in the hospital and I keep having these intense contractions and all I can do is breathe and literally stare at Matt. Of course, we have to wait what felt like an eternity for the elevator to come, and as we're waiting I realize in between contractions that all these people around us are staring at me. One sweet lady, bless her heart, asked me if I needed a wheelchair. I said no and thanked her and she said, "Sweetie, you're doing much better than I would be if I were in your shoes!"
When we got to the labor and delivery floor, we went to the triage station and Matt gave them our information. As we're waiting for them to bring it up, I whispered to Matt to not let them send me home. At that moment, the thought of going home was unbearable to me and I was terrified they would check me and say, "Go home and come back later." Matt assured me they weren't going to send me home, and right after that the triage nurse comes up and says that they're all full and she's going to call the labor unit and see if they can just take me now without me being in triage. So she calls down there and talks to the nurse and says, "Well, it's her first pregnancy, so you know it will take a while and I figure you all can just as easily send her home from there as we can from here," and I just about lost it. She hangs up the phone and sends us down to the labor and delivery unit and we are taken to a room where the nurse says, "What we're going to do is have a doctor check you and determine if you're going to stay here or go home. If we decide to keep you (um, excuse me? I'm not going anywhere once you put me in a gown and in that bed!), this will be your room." The doctor comes in and checks me and announces that I'm 4-5 cm dilated (she can stretch me to 5) and completely effaced. I was officially admitted and given a wristband and all that jazz. This was about 5:30 pm.
After we got settled, I decided to try the jacuzzi tub for awhile. It was really helpful, actually, but the water temp was way too hot at first and so I felt far more toasty and sweaty than I had outside of the tub! After laboring in there for awhile, I got out and went back to the bed and tried to continue to relax and breathe through everything. And here is where time runs away from me.
I had a sweet British nurse who kept saying to everyone who would come in the room to check on me that I was as nice as could be unless a contraction came and then I was "very focused and wouldn't talk." The doctors also kept asking Matt and me if we wanted to come back and teach their Lamaze class--I guess we were pretty impressive. Ha.
The nurse also kept asking me if I wanted an epidural, and I know she was doing her job, so I wasn't irritated by it, but my plan all along had been to see if I could do it without the epidural and so far, I was doing just fine, so I declined.
Matt suggested that we walk around the floor some, and even though I didn't want to, I agreed and we made it one time around the floor....for me, walking was NOT helpful. I did go back to the tub, though, for a little while more and then after I got out of the tub, the contractions really started coming close together and were a lot more painful. At this point, I decided that I did want the epidural only so that I could get some rest before having to push. Matt rang for the nurse and she got everything ordered and while we were waiting, I had this really hard contraction and Matt was counting with his fingers (we were doing "hee, hee, hee, hoo" and he would switch it up with his fingers) and I cut him off mid-contraction because my water finally broke. I believe my exact words were, "You have to stop and go get the nurse! My water broke!"
After that I asked to be checked and I was 8 cm dilated and that was when the anesthesiologist came in to do the epi. Right before he came in though, I was sitting on the edge of the bed and I couldn't stop shaking. I wasn't cold, but every fiber and muscle in my entire body was shaking. The nurse said this was transition. Fun stuff, transition. Everything went fine with the epidural and the nurses changed again and I had to wear oxygen because the baby wasn't getting enough, apparently.
Even though I wasn't feeling any more pain, I didn't sleep any because after my water broke, with each contraction, the baby's head would push against the umbilical cord and the heart rate would drop. This caused a whole bunch of people to keep coming in and checking things out and they had me shifting positions to see if that would help matters. It didn't. Eventually, they had to pump fluid back into me to provide a cushion for the baby's head during contractions and an internal monitor was used to keep an eye on the heartbeat. Matt was zonked pretty much through most of this, thankfully. Poor guy was really beat.
So I spent a lot of time talking to the nurse and praying and being turned every which way but upside down and then some doctors came in because of the heartbeat stuff and they decided that they were going to have me push just once so they could see what kind of a pusher I was. And yes, Matt was still asleep. Our nurse asked me if I wanted her to wake him up, but not thinking that this would be the start of the pushing, I said no. Whoops!
So they had me push and they all started commenting on what a great pusher I was, which totally shocked me, because I expected to be a wuss. They also checked me and I was 9 cm at that point with a very thin lip of cervix that went away when I pushed, so they decided that I would start pushing!
I then asked for Matt to please come over and I started pushing.
Oh boy.
When you are told that you can't practice for pushing and that it's impossible to describe the sensation or pressure you feel, you don't really know what to expect, but you think of something in your mind (or at least I did) and think that it will be a certain way. IT IS NOTHING LIKE YOU COULD IMAGINE OR WILL EVER BE ABLE TO DESCRIBE. Seriously.
And, just to make things more interesting, when I started pushing, I could feel everything on the right side of my body. By the time Levi was born, I could feel everything on BOTH sides. The epidural completely wore off.
So I'm pushing and pushing and pushing. And they keep telling me what an amazing pusher I am and that there is a lot of progress, as the baby's head is moving MILLIMETERS. Can I just tell you how discouraging that was to hear? It felt like the baby's head was going to pop out any minute and they are telling me I'm only pushing it millimeters.....oy vey.
At one point, I manage to open my eyes (because I didn't even have the strength or energy to open my eyes at all after I started pushing) and look at Matt and tell him that I can't do it anymore and to please let them cut me open and take the baby out.
My loving, wonderful, awesome, amazing husband took one look at me and turned into complete coach-in-the-4th-quarter-with-the-game-on-the-line mode and said very firmly and pointed his finger at me, "Look at me. You are DOING this. You CAN do this. I am with you. God is with you. You ARE DOING THIS."
My response?
"Okay."
And then after a total time of a little less than an hour of pushing and 31 hours of total labor, the baby's head came out, and then fairly quickly the rest of him did. Official time of birth: 2:18 am; 7 lbs. 5 oz. and 19.5 inches long.
I was too relieved to be done pushing and too exhausted to cry, but I remember anxiously waiting to hear if it was a boy or girl and the doctor looked at Matt and said, "Do you want to tell her what it is?" and with tears in his eyes, Matt turned to me and half-whispered, half-cried, "It's a boy!"
I was so surprised to hear that it was a boy because Matt was so convinced it was a girl and I can honestly say that it was the biggest surprise of my life and I would wait to find out all over again.
We had a lot of visitors the next couple of days and I was actually held one more day because strangely enough, they thought I was pre-eclamptic AFTER giving birth. But my blood pressure came down enough to be released on Monday morning and we arrived home that afternoon to balloons and my parents videoing and lots of food and well wishes.
I really can't complain about my labor and birthing experience and to look at the little man now and think back on the nine months he was inside of me is so surreal. I'm not anxious to do it again anytime soon, but I know that there will be a next time. Every time I see Levi smile at me, I think of how completely worth it it all was.
Blessings and love,
Erin
ps. friend of Matt's from BG that was at our wedding--when was your baby born? Matt would love to hear from you and the good news! his email address is still the same, so when you get a chance, shoot him a line. And thank you for the card--Matt was so surprised! :)
Thursday, July 09, 2009
Crawl before Walking
I don't know where to begin, except to say that I'm tired.
I'm tired of this rollercoaster of emotions and tired of continually feeling like a failure. That I'm failing the precious boy that I love so very much. That I'm incompetent and don't know my baby.
Having Levi is making me look at a lot of issues that I haven't dealt with from my past that have festered and I've ignored for years. Issues and hurts that in my head I tell myself shouldn't matter and shouldn't affect me now as they have, but my heart says that they are still as raw as if something that happened in 7th grade happened yesterday. Most of those issues center around feeling that I'm not worth anything and being a failure (as previously mentioned). And as a Christian, I know where my worth is, which is all the more confusing to me as to WHY on earth this is still an issue for me.
The truth is this: Jesus Christ loved ME--Erin Nicole (Yost) Brazofsky--so much and thinks I am worth something more than what I've believed that He DIED for me. Died for my sins. Died for my feelings of inadequacy, hurt, loneliness, anger, resentment. He wants me to look to Him for my worth--to know that my worth is in Him, not in what anyone else thinks it should be (a better mother, a better daughter/sister/friend, thinner, prettier (not going to happen--can't change my appearance!), a better wife).
So why is it so hard to let Him take the hurts? Why is it so hard to move on?
I know, I know--I'm human. I have human emotions.
But can I be honest?
I am so SICK of feeling these emotions! I don't want to feel them anymore...I WANT to be able to turn them over to the only person who can take them away for me.
Why don't/can't I?
I don't know. I really, really, don't know.
But I know that I have to start somewhere, and maybe admitting what's on the inside right now is a first step. Maybe getting it out instead of keeping it bottled up is where I need to begin.
I know I need to really start talking to God about this and seeking His help for all of this.
And thankfully, I have a husband who doesn't let me get away with telling him that I'm fine when I'm clearly not. Who makes me talk to him about what I'm feeling, no matter how ridiculous I feel sharing it. And when I tell him that I feel like I'm losing my mind and don't know how I'm going to get myself together, tells me that it's okay and that he's there.
It's time to stop belittling myself for what is inside and accept that it's there and do something about it. And I need to start talking about it, which is why I'm doing so now. I didn't intend to sit down right now and spew all of this out on you (sorry, by the way--you poor unsuspecting dears), but apparently my head had other ideas.
Please don't worry that I've gone off the deep end or have gone crazy...I really am okay, I am just feeling tired and beaten up emotionally. Maybe it's a bit of post-partum depression, I don't know. But I know the things that have recently arisen need to be dealt with and I can't run from them anymore.
I promise my life isn't all gloom and doom...God has been so unfailingly good to me and has never left me. Levi is thriving, Matt is wonderful and my rock, and I have friends I can turn to for help (I need to learn to be better about asking for it, though.), not to mention a family who loves me.
Please don't feel obligated to comment on this post--it really was more for me than you. This has become a journal of sorts for me, so that's why it's here.
You know the beautiful thing about this? At the end of this journey/process/whatever, God will be glorified in a magnificent way because of the healing that He did. And that is something I can't wait for. That my mended heart can be used to bring Him glory.
There is a song that I love--it's more of a chorus, really, but it reminds me of just how much God cares and is aware of what I'm going through, even when I feel the furthest from Him.
You dance over me
while I am unaware
You sing all around
but I never hear the sound
Lord I'm amazed by You
Lord I'm amazed by You
Lord I'm amazed by You
How You love me
Isn't that wonderful? He dances over me. Me! And I am so unworthy. But because of His sacrifice, I'm not.
I think that's a great place to start--because I have to crawl before I can walk, right?
Blessings and love,
Erin
I'm tired of this rollercoaster of emotions and tired of continually feeling like a failure. That I'm failing the precious boy that I love so very much. That I'm incompetent and don't know my baby.
Having Levi is making me look at a lot of issues that I haven't dealt with from my past that have festered and I've ignored for years. Issues and hurts that in my head I tell myself shouldn't matter and shouldn't affect me now as they have, but my heart says that they are still as raw as if something that happened in 7th grade happened yesterday. Most of those issues center around feeling that I'm not worth anything and being a failure (as previously mentioned). And as a Christian, I know where my worth is, which is all the more confusing to me as to WHY on earth this is still an issue for me.
The truth is this: Jesus Christ loved ME--Erin Nicole (Yost) Brazofsky--so much and thinks I am worth something more than what I've believed that He DIED for me. Died for my sins. Died for my feelings of inadequacy, hurt, loneliness, anger, resentment. He wants me to look to Him for my worth--to know that my worth is in Him, not in what anyone else thinks it should be (a better mother, a better daughter/sister/friend, thinner, prettier (not going to happen--can't change my appearance!), a better wife).
So why is it so hard to let Him take the hurts? Why is it so hard to move on?
I know, I know--I'm human. I have human emotions.
But can I be honest?
I am so SICK of feeling these emotions! I don't want to feel them anymore...I WANT to be able to turn them over to the only person who can take them away for me.
Why don't/can't I?
I don't know. I really, really, don't know.
But I know that I have to start somewhere, and maybe admitting what's on the inside right now is a first step. Maybe getting it out instead of keeping it bottled up is where I need to begin.
I know I need to really start talking to God about this and seeking His help for all of this.
And thankfully, I have a husband who doesn't let me get away with telling him that I'm fine when I'm clearly not. Who makes me talk to him about what I'm feeling, no matter how ridiculous I feel sharing it. And when I tell him that I feel like I'm losing my mind and don't know how I'm going to get myself together, tells me that it's okay and that he's there.
It's time to stop belittling myself for what is inside and accept that it's there and do something about it. And I need to start talking about it, which is why I'm doing so now. I didn't intend to sit down right now and spew all of this out on you (sorry, by the way--you poor unsuspecting dears), but apparently my head had other ideas.
Please don't worry that I've gone off the deep end or have gone crazy...I really am okay, I am just feeling tired and beaten up emotionally. Maybe it's a bit of post-partum depression, I don't know. But I know the things that have recently arisen need to be dealt with and I can't run from them anymore.
I promise my life isn't all gloom and doom...God has been so unfailingly good to me and has never left me. Levi is thriving, Matt is wonderful and my rock, and I have friends I can turn to for help (I need to learn to be better about asking for it, though.), not to mention a family who loves me.
Please don't feel obligated to comment on this post--it really was more for me than you. This has become a journal of sorts for me, so that's why it's here.
You know the beautiful thing about this? At the end of this journey/process/whatever, God will be glorified in a magnificent way because of the healing that He did. And that is something I can't wait for. That my mended heart can be used to bring Him glory.
There is a song that I love--it's more of a chorus, really, but it reminds me of just how much God cares and is aware of what I'm going through, even when I feel the furthest from Him.
You dance over me
while I am unaware
You sing all around
but I never hear the sound
Lord I'm amazed by You
Lord I'm amazed by You
Lord I'm amazed by You
How You love me
Isn't that wonderful? He dances over me. Me! And I am so unworthy. But because of His sacrifice, I'm not.
I think that's a great place to start--because I have to crawl before I can walk, right?
Blessings and love,
Erin
Monday, June 29, 2009
Life in the Fast Lane...
Or, life in a time warp, as I like to say. :)
Since my last post, (which I realize was NOT anything significant or noteworthy about my life these days--sorry, y'all, but you'll have to take what you get. hee.) there are a number of items I would like to fill you in on that have happened.
---I turned THIRTY on Saturday. THIRTY, people. I wasn't upset about the idea of turning THIRTY, but man, does it feel weird to say that I'm THIRTY (and yes, it warrants the use of all caps. deal with it.).
---Something that should have been blogged about before the last post: Matt and I have now been married 4 years as of June 11th. Surprisingly enough, I do remember what we did to celebrate (you've caught me on a good day here people)--we went to a favorite coffee house on our old street (Park Ave., for you fellow Rochesterians) for coffee and dessert and we did take the baby. But it was fun and we had a good time reminiscing throughout the day of what we were doing on that fateful day at that particular time. I also came home to a message on the machine from Matt who was at a piano student's house and he had the student play the theme to 'Rocky' since at that point in time, we were probably being introduced at the reception and that was our grand entrance music (Matt requested it, not me). Happy Anniversary, again, my love!
---Levi has been thriving and becoming a much more contented and happy baby. The visiting nurse services only lasted for a week, because my superbaby was gaining 3 oz. every two days, on average and they weren't concerned that he was going to regress. We took him to the pedi 2 Mondays ago for a final weight check and he was up to 8 lbs. 12 oz.! I know, that's not a lot for a 6 week old, but you have to realize that the day we took him to the hospital? He was 6 lbs. 9 oz.....so in a matter of 11 days, he gained something like 19 oz., which I think is pretty incredible.
---A disappointment for me is that my milk supply is waning, and that Levi is basically nursing for comfort, not nutrition. So, he's getting pretty much all formula, all the time. Not that it's bad or that I'm against him having it (clearly, the boy needs to gain weight and he needs to eat and I don't make enough to give him, so I'm going to do whatever I need to to make sure he grows and gets nice and fat.), I'm just sad that I can't nourish him like I had hoped. After we got back from the hospital I spent my days pumping, nursing and giving him a bottle and doing precious little else, including finding time to shower, and it was utterly exhausting and I wasn't yielding great results from the pumping. During the last visit with the pedi, she asked how I was feeding him, so I told her my routine and she said, "You're basically working like you have twins." That was eye opening for me, and I made the decision (a very hard decision) to reverse the supplementing plan--feed primarily with formula, and supplement with nursing. The thought of keeping Levi healthy and growing is what is keeping me from beating myself up about this. He's more important than my desire to breastfeed, and I learned that I CAN breastfeed--he just needs more than what my body is capable of giving him. I don't know if I ever shared this with you all, but when I was 16, I made the decision to have a breast reduction and was told at the time that I would most likely not be able to breastfeed whenever I chose to have children. Matt and I spent all 9 months of my pregnancy praying that I would be able to breastfeed and God answered that prayer--and I'm so thankful for that miracle. However, because of the type of surgery procedure (there is a newer procedure/method they use for that operation), I believe that I was left with very few milk ducts intact, which has hindered how much I'm able to pump and how much Levi is able to get. Trust me, after pumping every 2 hours for a week and seeing very little results, I think my theory is pretty good. But anyways, my precious, precious little boy is growing and the only "issue" we have now is trying to get him to take naps during the day. He seems to think he's all grown up and doesn't need to nap. :) He is smiling and starting to laugh and just a joy to have. He's discovered his hands (his feet, not so much) and is in love with Matt and his hippo friends, Hiram, Higgum and Huey on his pack-n-play mobile. They dance together. It's cute. We have lots of new pictures to upload, but we first need to get an external hard drive because there is no more room on the computer for pics, unfortunately. So bear with me and I'll have some new ones for you soon.
Wow, I haven't posted that much in a LONG time! Whew! Aren't you all glad that I don't post like I used to when nearly every day was a post full of ramblings and nonsense? (don't answer that.)
Okay, it's nearly time for another Levi feeding, so I must go, but I love you all and hope you're doing fabulously! A new 'Erin in Love' installment is brewing, as well as another post of a more serious nature. We'll see if I actually post it. ;)
Blessings and love,
Erin
ps. Have safe and happy 4th of Julys!
Since my last post, (which I realize was NOT anything significant or noteworthy about my life these days--sorry, y'all, but you'll have to take what you get. hee.) there are a number of items I would like to fill you in on that have happened.
---I turned THIRTY on Saturday. THIRTY, people. I wasn't upset about the idea of turning THIRTY, but man, does it feel weird to say that I'm THIRTY (and yes, it warrants the use of all caps. deal with it.).
---Something that should have been blogged about before the last post: Matt and I have now been married 4 years as of June 11th. Surprisingly enough, I do remember what we did to celebrate (you've caught me on a good day here people)--we went to a favorite coffee house on our old street (Park Ave., for you fellow Rochesterians) for coffee and dessert and we did take the baby. But it was fun and we had a good time reminiscing throughout the day of what we were doing on that fateful day at that particular time. I also came home to a message on the machine from Matt who was at a piano student's house and he had the student play the theme to 'Rocky' since at that point in time, we were probably being introduced at the reception and that was our grand entrance music (Matt requested it, not me). Happy Anniversary, again, my love!
---Levi has been thriving and becoming a much more contented and happy baby. The visiting nurse services only lasted for a week, because my superbaby was gaining 3 oz. every two days, on average and they weren't concerned that he was going to regress. We took him to the pedi 2 Mondays ago for a final weight check and he was up to 8 lbs. 12 oz.! I know, that's not a lot for a 6 week old, but you have to realize that the day we took him to the hospital? He was 6 lbs. 9 oz.....so in a matter of 11 days, he gained something like 19 oz., which I think is pretty incredible.
---A disappointment for me is that my milk supply is waning, and that Levi is basically nursing for comfort, not nutrition. So, he's getting pretty much all formula, all the time. Not that it's bad or that I'm against him having it (clearly, the boy needs to gain weight and he needs to eat and I don't make enough to give him, so I'm going to do whatever I need to to make sure he grows and gets nice and fat.), I'm just sad that I can't nourish him like I had hoped. After we got back from the hospital I spent my days pumping, nursing and giving him a bottle and doing precious little else, including finding time to shower, and it was utterly exhausting and I wasn't yielding great results from the pumping. During the last visit with the pedi, she asked how I was feeding him, so I told her my routine and she said, "You're basically working like you have twins." That was eye opening for me, and I made the decision (a very hard decision) to reverse the supplementing plan--feed primarily with formula, and supplement with nursing. The thought of keeping Levi healthy and growing is what is keeping me from beating myself up about this. He's more important than my desire to breastfeed, and I learned that I CAN breastfeed--he just needs more than what my body is capable of giving him. I don't know if I ever shared this with you all, but when I was 16, I made the decision to have a breast reduction and was told at the time that I would most likely not be able to breastfeed whenever I chose to have children. Matt and I spent all 9 months of my pregnancy praying that I would be able to breastfeed and God answered that prayer--and I'm so thankful for that miracle. However, because of the type of surgery procedure (there is a newer procedure/method they use for that operation), I believe that I was left with very few milk ducts intact, which has hindered how much I'm able to pump and how much Levi is able to get. Trust me, after pumping every 2 hours for a week and seeing very little results, I think my theory is pretty good. But anyways, my precious, precious little boy is growing and the only "issue" we have now is trying to get him to take naps during the day. He seems to think he's all grown up and doesn't need to nap. :) He is smiling and starting to laugh and just a joy to have. He's discovered his hands (his feet, not so much) and is in love with Matt and his hippo friends, Hiram, Higgum and Huey on his pack-n-play mobile. They dance together. It's cute. We have lots of new pictures to upload, but we first need to get an external hard drive because there is no more room on the computer for pics, unfortunately. So bear with me and I'll have some new ones for you soon.
Wow, I haven't posted that much in a LONG time! Whew! Aren't you all glad that I don't post like I used to when nearly every day was a post full of ramblings and nonsense? (don't answer that.)
Okay, it's nearly time for another Levi feeding, so I must go, but I love you all and hope you're doing fabulously! A new 'Erin in Love' installment is brewing, as well as another post of a more serious nature. We'll see if I actually post it. ;)
Blessings and love,
Erin
ps. Have safe and happy 4th of Julys!
Monday, June 22, 2009
Erin in Love (Part Eighteen)
After Jarred and Jody's wedding, things got decidedly more complicated for me. At another wedding about two months later, I met a very nice guy named Todd. We talked and danced and then as I was leaving, he stopped me and asked for my number. The downside? He lived in Michigan. I wasn't thinking realistically about him, though, to be honest, and probably led him on a bit unintentionally. We lost touch quickly.
The bigger complication came in the form of a friend I made at church. Although my friends in Ohio who read this blog will know who I'm talking about, we'll call him Mr. X. (ha!) Mr. X and I met at Bible study and quickly became friends. He is a great person and has a very strong relationship with the Lord and I really enjoyed his company, especially being new to the church and not knowing many people. Mr. X reached out and made me feel very welcome.
As time went on, Mr. X and I spent a lot more time together, on our own and with other friends. There were two friends in particular whom we spent time with, my wonderful and close friends, John and Nicole. In retrospect, it probably wasn't for the best that I spent time with Mr. X with couple friends, but the four of us became very close and did a lot together. And while I still wasn't sure what was going on in Matt's head, I was very content to remain friends...because I was developing feelings for Mr. X.
Sometime in late May, I had to go to Houston for work. The night before I was to go home, I was in bed getting ready to sleep when my cell phone rang. Wondering who on earth would be calling me at 11:00 Ohio time (Houston is an hour behind us, I believe), I picked it up and on the other end was Matt.
He told me that he was at the laundromat washing his clothes so he could finish packing for his trip to Italy the next day. Yes, he was leaving the next morning for Italy and he would be gone for six weeks. We chit-chatted for awhile and joked about how much of a procrastinator he was that he was doing his laundry at 11:00 at night the day before he was to fly out and then, all of a sudden, after a slight pause in conversation, my world got turned upside down.
"Um, Erin? I was wondering if you've ever thought about us dating."
(WHAT?--my heart stopped beating for at least a minute, I swear.)
"Well, not for a long time, but yes, I have in the past. Why?"
"Well, I've been thinking about it a lot recently and would like you to pray about us dating while I'm in Italy. Since I won't be able to call you and I'll be there for six weeks, I thought it would be a good way for us to really seek the Lord in this, and then after I get back, maybe we can get together to talk about it."
(Again, WHAT?)
"Um, sure, I'll pray."
"Thanks."
After that, I decided I needed to get off the phone quickly. I just couldn't understand what he was thinking. I mean, the NIGHT before he was to leave for SIX WEEKS to a different COUNTRY and he decided that was the time to tell me he wanted us to start dating? What planet was he living on? And I didn't know how I felt about him...especially since Mr. X had come onto the scene.
I spent the entire next day thinking of nothing else but my conversation with Matt and what he'd asked me to do. I felt excited, happy, anxious, nervous, scared, angry....there were so many emotions running through me that I couldn't figure out what I was feeling. On the flight home, I wished I had someone to talk to about it, but instead started praying.
That weekend, I decided to go to my "old" church (the one I attended in college), and the pastor preached about stepping out in faith, using Peter walking on water as the main text. I'll never forget it, because I felt as though God was using that sermon to me to tell me that it would be okay and that I should step out in faith with Matt...and that as long as I kept my eyes on Him, He wouldn't let me fall. I left that Sunday feeling I had my answer ready for when Matt came back.
I thought wrong.
Blessings and love,
Erin
ps. Levi is doing MUCH better--thank you all for your prayers. He is gaining weight like a champ and now we're working on getting him to take naps during the day--he is a nosy little guy and likes to be awake all day, apparently. :) And I have to give a big shout-out to Missy, my friend from college who commented on my last post. Hi Missy!! :) And thank you all for your encouragment and prayers--it really means so much and Matt and I really appreciate it.
The bigger complication came in the form of a friend I made at church. Although my friends in Ohio who read this blog will know who I'm talking about, we'll call him Mr. X. (ha!) Mr. X and I met at Bible study and quickly became friends. He is a great person and has a very strong relationship with the Lord and I really enjoyed his company, especially being new to the church and not knowing many people. Mr. X reached out and made me feel very welcome.
As time went on, Mr. X and I spent a lot more time together, on our own and with other friends. There were two friends in particular whom we spent time with, my wonderful and close friends, John and Nicole. In retrospect, it probably wasn't for the best that I spent time with Mr. X with couple friends, but the four of us became very close and did a lot together. And while I still wasn't sure what was going on in Matt's head, I was very content to remain friends...because I was developing feelings for Mr. X.
Sometime in late May, I had to go to Houston for work. The night before I was to go home, I was in bed getting ready to sleep when my cell phone rang. Wondering who on earth would be calling me at 11:00 Ohio time (Houston is an hour behind us, I believe), I picked it up and on the other end was Matt.
He told me that he was at the laundromat washing his clothes so he could finish packing for his trip to Italy the next day. Yes, he was leaving the next morning for Italy and he would be gone for six weeks. We chit-chatted for awhile and joked about how much of a procrastinator he was that he was doing his laundry at 11:00 at night the day before he was to fly out and then, all of a sudden, after a slight pause in conversation, my world got turned upside down.
"Um, Erin? I was wondering if you've ever thought about us dating."
(WHAT?--my heart stopped beating for at least a minute, I swear.)
"Well, not for a long time, but yes, I have in the past. Why?"
"Well, I've been thinking about it a lot recently and would like you to pray about us dating while I'm in Italy. Since I won't be able to call you and I'll be there for six weeks, I thought it would be a good way for us to really seek the Lord in this, and then after I get back, maybe we can get together to talk about it."
(Again, WHAT?)
"Um, sure, I'll pray."
"Thanks."
After that, I decided I needed to get off the phone quickly. I just couldn't understand what he was thinking. I mean, the NIGHT before he was to leave for SIX WEEKS to a different COUNTRY and he decided that was the time to tell me he wanted us to start dating? What planet was he living on? And I didn't know how I felt about him...especially since Mr. X had come onto the scene.
I spent the entire next day thinking of nothing else but my conversation with Matt and what he'd asked me to do. I felt excited, happy, anxious, nervous, scared, angry....there were so many emotions running through me that I couldn't figure out what I was feeling. On the flight home, I wished I had someone to talk to about it, but instead started praying.
That weekend, I decided to go to my "old" church (the one I attended in college), and the pastor preached about stepping out in faith, using Peter walking on water as the main text. I'll never forget it, because I felt as though God was using that sermon to me to tell me that it would be okay and that I should step out in faith with Matt...and that as long as I kept my eyes on Him, He wouldn't let me fall. I left that Sunday feeling I had my answer ready for when Matt came back.
I thought wrong.
Blessings and love,
Erin
ps. Levi is doing MUCH better--thank you all for your prayers. He is gaining weight like a champ and now we're working on getting him to take naps during the day--he is a nosy little guy and likes to be awake all day, apparently. :) And I have to give a big shout-out to Missy, my friend from college who commented on my last post. Hi Missy!! :) And thank you all for your encouragment and prayers--it really means so much and Matt and I really appreciate it.
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