Hey,
My mom and I took the kids on Monday to get pictures taken at Target. We got there early and shopped a little first, and the kids were really bad. All three were crying. My mom and I were ready to turn around and head back home after driving a half hour in the car. But, we stuck with the plan and got the pictures done.
I'm glad we did. Because they turned out great! That photographer must be magic or something. Or maybe my kids only turn on the charm for people other than their mother.
But if you want to look at them, go to targetportraits.com, login charky_anne@hotmail.com, and password charbar. I thought I'd share since it is a private blog. No one out there is stalking me, right? Right?
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Grandma visits Baby Ruby
My mom has been here for the past week, visiting and helping. It's been really nice. Ruby is still a great baby; I can count the meltdowns she's had on one hand. And she sleeps so well at night. My goal with Ruby has been to stay indoors for a month, so we could avoid the RSV incident that Elliot had. Well, it's really hard to stay inside when you have two other children. They kind of go crazy.
So, we caved yesterday and took the kids to the Olive Garden and the mall. Afterwards, Elliot had the meltdown of all meltdowns after I wouldn't let him play at the germy kids' play area in the mall. He was hysterical for over an hour. Then, during the night he woke up every hour until 2 am. I think this kind of behavior mostly has to do with the new baby. But he loves her, it's just the change that is hard.
It's been nice to have my mom to help with the tantrums. And Joe's on tour this week, so it's been especially helpful right now to have her. I don't think I would have survived this week without her. Anyway, here are the pictures:
Bathing Ruby!
Elliot needs a picture, too. Note the Beatles shirt. It was for Valentine's Day.
Ruby in her Valentine's Day attire:
This is a real smile?
We like to hold her, a lot. It's going to be hard when Grandma leaves . . .
This picture is not good; my camera doesn't do very detailed shots. But my favorite part about Ruby is her furry ears. The fur on her ears is as long as the hair on her head.
Elliot's been coloring while we've been indoors. I think he's done pretty well at coloring in the lines.
So, we caved yesterday and took the kids to the Olive Garden and the mall. Afterwards, Elliot had the meltdown of all meltdowns after I wouldn't let him play at the germy kids' play area in the mall. He was hysterical for over an hour. Then, during the night he woke up every hour until 2 am. I think this kind of behavior mostly has to do with the new baby. But he loves her, it's just the change that is hard.
It's been nice to have my mom to help with the tantrums. And Joe's on tour this week, so it's been especially helpful right now to have her. I don't think I would have survived this week without her. Anyway, here are the pictures:
Elliot needs a picture, too. Note the Beatles shirt. It was for Valentine's Day.
Ruby in her Valentine's Day attire:
Tuesday, February 08, 2011
Big Brother Elliot
My son is crazy about his baby sister. He helps me burp her, gets me diapers and wipes, and entertains her with her toy butterfly if I'm doing something for myself, like going to the bathroom. I thought I'd share my two favorite things he's been saying to her lately. He asked me the other night why she couldn't eat dinner with us, and I told him that she could only nurse because she didn't have any teeth. So now when she's nursing, Elliot will frequently come up to her and say, "See Baby Ruby, I have teeth!" Then show his teeth. I also overheard him saying to her while she was chilling in her carrier, "Baby Ruby, remember when you were in Mommy's tummy?"
Wednesday, February 02, 2011
Natural Childbirth: Would I recommend it? No. Would I do it again? Probably.
Are you ready for this? It might be long and gruesome. You can read Joe's condensed version below if you're turned off by birthing stories. Personally, they fascinate me. How can one process be so different every time for every person? Maybe the birth portends the personality 
of the baby. Who knows.
You know I have a very bad, very miserable attitude at the end of my pregnancy. That's why I didn't write on my blog for the past two weeks. I was beyond despondency because: 1) The baby was getting bigger and bigger 2) I was worried about having another hematoma because of the large child (oh, and she's not large. Only 7 lbs 8 oz). 3) I thought I'd never go into labor naturally and have to beg the doctor to induce me. Which I did beg twice in the last couple of weeks.
So after much misery and lots of false contractions for two weeks, a miracle occurred: I went into labor on my due date. I woke up at 1 am with contractions. They weren't regular, but they were the real thing. I excitedly played Word Challenge on Facebook to distract myself and called my mom. By 7 am, I was really tired, and decided to try to rest a little. I fell asleep for 45 minutes, and the contractions slowed. I was afraid they had stopped all together, so I got my family ready and forced them to come for a walk with me at 8 am. They picked up again to the 6-10 minute range. After two walks, my kids had had it with me. They were hungry and annoyed, and I was annoyed that at noon there was little progress. But I was undeterred: the baby had to come out today.
So, I called my friend Sue, dropped the kids off at her house, and Joe and I went to the hospital and walked around for another hour and a half after eating some lunch. Still not a lot of progress. They felt stronger, and they were now 2-6 minutes apart. I was getting blisters on my feet from walking so much, and my husband was like, "So now what are we going to do?" We decided it couldn't hurt to walk up to Labor and Delivery and see how I was progressing. They check me, I'm at a 4 (yay!), and they tell us to go walk around for 2 hours. Soon after the doctor was done checking me, the contractions became stronger. They were consistently 2-3 minutes apart for an hour. I walked around, but they stayed the same whether I was sitting or walking. They started to really hurt, so we decided to go back to Labor and Delivery.
It was the same doctor and nurse as before that check me. I'm not dilated anymore than a 4, and they seem unimpressed that my contractions are now close together and regular. They tell me to go walk some more, or to go home and take a bath. Then the doctor says, "And if they stop coming, then you can just stay home." At this point, I feel like crying. It's 5:30, I've been up since 1 am, and they won't take me? It's ludicrous. The doctor does not recognize labor when she sees it. I can't handle walking anymore, so I decide to opt for her second suggestion, go home and take a bath. On the car ride home, the contractions become more severe. I start doing breathing exercises to cope, which I've never had to do before. I had read about them that morning, and they actually did help. I take a bath, that calms me down, but after that, I can't sit down. It's just too painful to crunch up my stomach when there are huge contractions happening. Joe has me stick it out for an hour and a half, but after that, I just can't handle it anymore. We go back to the hospital.
I'm dying in the car because I can't stand up anymore. I roll down the window, concentrating on the wind to calm me down. Since it's a Sunday, the main doors to the hospital on base are closed, so I need to enter at the Emergency Room entrance. Joe drops me off while he finds a parking spot. As soon as he gets out, I have a massive contraction. I throw all of my stuff on the ground and clutch the wall for support. A gentleman sees me, he runs over and yells for someone to get me a wheelchair. I seriously think he thought I was going to have the baby right there. Joe walks in as they're getting the wheelchair, and the man and Joe rush me up to Labor and Delivery. I'm trying to get out of the wheelchair the whole time because the contractions are killing me.
When we get up to Labor and Delivery, the same nurse is there who denied me entrance the other two times. She informs us that all of the beds in Triage are full, and that we will have to go to the Waiting Room until one is ready. Seriously? I'm flipping out. I ask, "Can't I just wait right here by the front desk?" No, I have to go to the waiting room. We wait right outside of the door to the front desk instead of going to the waiting room. Then I get another huge contraction. I basically fall out of the wheel chair and get on my hands and knees, rocking back and forth. Luckily, a doctor with some sense sees me and says, "We need to get you a bed now."
They make me lie down to check how dilated I am. I'm at a 6. The whole time I'm begging for an epidural. They tell me I can't have one until my blood is drawn, and the lab gets a count of my platelets (have you ever heard of this before? I don't know what it is with this hospital and having to test everything. Other hospitals give you an epidural as soon as they can). That will take 30 to 45 minutes. I know I can't wait that long.
They finally get me admitted and put in a room. They then tell me I can take Fentanyl, which won't do much, but at least it will help. But first they need to monitor the baby for 10 minutes. They want me to lie back down on the bed, but I really can't. I clutch on to the side of the bed and rock back and forth during the contractions. They put on the monitors, but they keep on sliding off. Luckily, the results they get are conclusive enough; I can have the Fentanyl. They put in the IV while I'm having another huge contraction, somehow blood starts spewing everywhere, and it gets on Joe's shoe. After just a minute of actually laying in the bed the doctor checks me, and it's time to push.
I can't believe it. I went from 6cm to 10cm in 20 minutes. The drug is just starting to work, but all it really does is make me a little less anxious and fuzzy in the head. I still feel a lot of pain. I get up on the bed, and I push so hard. And scream. I screamed so loud. Joe said he had to push his shoulder into his ear. I push even when the doctor says to take a break. The baby comes out in 2 minutes. It's a miracle; I survived having a baby pretty much drug free.
Two things of interest that happened during the birth: my water never broke. The doctor says, "Let's try to keep the sac intact. In some cultures, they believe the baby born in the water sac is very lucky." Okay, I didn't even know it was possible to have the baby in the sac. I'm game. Well, as I'm pushing, the sac bursts, all over the doctor, right in her face. Luckily, she has on a glass visor over her face. But my husband wasn't so lucky. He got a little spray.
The other thing of interest is that I saw the whole thing. You know how they usually cover your legs so you won't be traumatized by seeing your own body ripped apart? Didn't happen this time. And surprisingly, I was okay. I saw little Ruby come out, I saw the placenta slide out, I saw it all. Oh, and the double placenta? It was crazy. The extra lobe was almost as big as the actual placenta Ruby was in.
After all was said and done, I felt really good. I am recovering better than I ever have before, and I do think it's because it was a natural childbirth. So for this reason, I might consider doing it again. But maybe with some coping strategies so I'm not ready to go crazy. Also, I decided I'm never having a baby at this hospital again. Wow. Can you believe that story? Don't worry; I wrote a letter of complaint. They were lucky I didn't have that baby in the waiting room. Or in the car on the way to the hospital.
But my baby is so sweet. We are very blessed to have our little Ruby Alice.
You know I have a very bad, very miserable attitude at the end of my pregnancy. That's why I didn't write on my blog for the past two weeks. I was beyond despondency because: 1) The baby was getting bigger and bigger 2) I was worried about having another hematoma because of the large child (oh, and she's not large. Only 7 lbs 8 oz). 3) I thought I'd never go into labor naturally and have to beg the doctor to induce me. Which I did beg twice in the last couple of weeks.
So after much misery and lots of false contractions for two weeks, a miracle occurred: I went into labor on my due date. I woke up at 1 am with contractions. They weren't regular, but they were the real thing. I excitedly played Word Challenge on Facebook to distract myself and called my mom. By 7 am, I was really tired, and decided to try to rest a little. I fell asleep for 45 minutes, and the contractions slowed. I was afraid they had stopped all together, so I got my family ready and forced them to come for a walk with me at 8 am. They picked up again to the 6-10 minute range. After two walks, my kids had had it with me. They were hungry and annoyed, and I was annoyed that at noon there was little progress. But I was undeterred: the baby had to come out today.
So, I called my friend Sue, dropped the kids off at her house, and Joe and I went to the hospital and walked around for another hour and a half after eating some lunch. Still not a lot of progress. They felt stronger, and they were now 2-6 minutes apart. I was getting blisters on my feet from walking so much, and my husband was like, "So now what are we going to do?" We decided it couldn't hurt to walk up to Labor and Delivery and see how I was progressing. They check me, I'm at a 4 (yay!), and they tell us to go walk around for 2 hours. Soon after the doctor was done checking me, the contractions became stronger. They were consistently 2-3 minutes apart for an hour. I walked around, but they stayed the same whether I was sitting or walking. They started to really hurt, so we decided to go back to Labor and Delivery.
It was the same doctor and nurse as before that check me. I'm not dilated anymore than a 4, and they seem unimpressed that my contractions are now close together and regular. They tell me to go walk some more, or to go home and take a bath. Then the doctor says, "And if they stop coming, then you can just stay home." At this point, I feel like crying. It's 5:30, I've been up since 1 am, and they won't take me? It's ludicrous. The doctor does not recognize labor when she sees it. I can't handle walking anymore, so I decide to opt for her second suggestion, go home and take a bath. On the car ride home, the contractions become more severe. I start doing breathing exercises to cope, which I've never had to do before. I had read about them that morning, and they actually did help. I take a bath, that calms me down, but after that, I can't sit down. It's just too painful to crunch up my stomach when there are huge contractions happening. Joe has me stick it out for an hour and a half, but after that, I just can't handle it anymore. We go back to the hospital.
I'm dying in the car because I can't stand up anymore. I roll down the window, concentrating on the wind to calm me down. Since it's a Sunday, the main doors to the hospital on base are closed, so I need to enter at the Emergency Room entrance. Joe drops me off while he finds a parking spot. As soon as he gets out, I have a massive contraction. I throw all of my stuff on the ground and clutch the wall for support. A gentleman sees me, he runs over and yells for someone to get me a wheelchair. I seriously think he thought I was going to have the baby right there. Joe walks in as they're getting the wheelchair, and the man and Joe rush me up to Labor and Delivery. I'm trying to get out of the wheelchair the whole time because the contractions are killing me.
When we get up to Labor and Delivery, the same nurse is there who denied me entrance the other two times. She informs us that all of the beds in Triage are full, and that we will have to go to the Waiting Room until one is ready. Seriously? I'm flipping out. I ask, "Can't I just wait right here by the front desk?" No, I have to go to the waiting room. We wait right outside of the door to the front desk instead of going to the waiting room. Then I get another huge contraction. I basically fall out of the wheel chair and get on my hands and knees, rocking back and forth. Luckily, a doctor with some sense sees me and says, "We need to get you a bed now."
They make me lie down to check how dilated I am. I'm at a 6. The whole time I'm begging for an epidural. They tell me I can't have one until my blood is drawn, and the lab gets a count of my platelets (have you ever heard of this before? I don't know what it is with this hospital and having to test everything. Other hospitals give you an epidural as soon as they can). That will take 30 to 45 minutes. I know I can't wait that long.
They finally get me admitted and put in a room. They then tell me I can take Fentanyl, which won't do much, but at least it will help. But first they need to monitor the baby for 10 minutes. They want me to lie back down on the bed, but I really can't. I clutch on to the side of the bed and rock back and forth during the contractions. They put on the monitors, but they keep on sliding off. Luckily, the results they get are conclusive enough; I can have the Fentanyl. They put in the IV while I'm having another huge contraction, somehow blood starts spewing everywhere, and it gets on Joe's shoe. After just a minute of actually laying in the bed the doctor checks me, and it's time to push.
I can't believe it. I went from 6cm to 10cm in 20 minutes. The drug is just starting to work, but all it really does is make me a little less anxious and fuzzy in the head. I still feel a lot of pain. I get up on the bed, and I push so hard. And scream. I screamed so loud. Joe said he had to push his shoulder into his ear. I push even when the doctor says to take a break. The baby comes out in 2 minutes. It's a miracle; I survived having a baby pretty much drug free.
Two things of interest that happened during the birth: my water never broke. The doctor says, "Let's try to keep the sac intact. In some cultures, they believe the baby born in the water sac is very lucky." Okay, I didn't even know it was possible to have the baby in the sac. I'm game. Well, as I'm pushing, the sac bursts, all over the doctor, right in her face. Luckily, she has on a glass visor over her face. But my husband wasn't so lucky. He got a little spray.
The other thing of interest is that I saw the whole thing. You know how they usually cover your legs so you won't be traumatized by seeing your own body ripped apart? Didn't happen this time. And surprisingly, I was okay. I saw little Ruby come out, I saw the placenta slide out, I saw it all. Oh, and the double placenta? It was crazy. The extra lobe was almost as big as the actual placenta Ruby was in.
After all was said and done, I felt really good. I am recovering better than I ever have before, and I do think it's because it was a natural childbirth. So for this reason, I might consider doing it again. But maybe with some coping strategies so I'm not ready to go crazy. Also, I decided I'm never having a baby at this hospital again. Wow. Can you believe that story? Don't worry; I wrote a letter of complaint. They were lucky I didn't have that baby in the waiting room. Or in the car on the way to the hospital.
But my baby is so sweet. We are very blessed to have our little Ruby Alice.
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