Pregnancy at 35

Twelve years ago today I birthed my first child.  I was exceptionally tired.  I'd been laboring for 35 hours and had decided that there was no way this baby was going to come.  I was in tears when I finally asked for an epidural.  A half hour later my favorite midwife told me I was finally dilated to a ten.  He got me in the pushing position and I started to push.  I tell you that kid was jammed in there.  It took three hours of pushing and finally after 38 1/2 hours my son was in my arms.  It was the most terrible, painful, exhausting day of my life but when I saw his sweet little face and very cone shaped head it was all worth it.  I was able to experience that joy two more beautiful times and then almost five years ago I had the scare of delivering a baby ten weeks early.  Two years after that I had the heart ache of a miscarriage at 12 weeks.  Those last two experiences were very jarring.  We took some time off and we even considered being done adding to our family.  We have four lovely children who fill our lives with joy and noise every day.  We were done with potty training, with crying newborns and toddlers on planes, with most sleepless nights, with spit up, but there was this little part of me that still wanted one more kid.  I wasn't the only one. 

My kids were constantly asking when we would give them another brother, one child more than others, and my husband would tease me about when we were going to have another kid.  Last year I decided it was time to make a choice, if we were going to have another child we needed to do it now and if we weren't  we were going to do something permanent to put that baby train forever on hold.  My husband and I talked about.  We prayed, we fasted, we prayed more.  Dr. J instantly felt good about it but I felt fear.  Cheetah's birth had left me scared and scarred, the miscarriage was one of the worst experiences of my life.  I didn't know if I could or should face those possibilities again.  These were the thoughts running through my mind for the week following Dr. J's good feeling confirmation.  Then one day as I drove the kid home from school Andrew McMahon's song "Cecilia and the Satellite" came on.  I've heard this song a ton of times.  I like it quite a bit but at this point it is mostly just background noise for me.  This time when the words, "Don't be afraid," came on my whole body went to fire and in that instant a voice inside of me said, "Don't be afraid, everything will be ok," and I knew it would be.  I had the confirmation I had asked for.  I came home and told Dr. J I was ready to try.  We decided that 35 was the year to do it.  If we could get pregnant and have a baby before I turned 36 we would, if not, then we would accept that this was not in the cards for us.  So I stopped taking my pill and for months, and months, and months I didn't get pregnant.  I was keeping a count down on when my birthday was and nine months from that date and we were quickly approaching the cut off date.  I told Dr. J I didn't think we were going to make it, and then my period didn't come.  And that is how I ended up being due to have a fifth child right before my 36th birthday.

This pregnancy has been a little more complicated than the rest of them.  We have quite a few hospitals around us but because our daughter was born early and had to be in the NICU Dr. J wanted me to deliver downtown at the biggest hospital with the highest level NICU as a just in case precaution.  Because of my previous C-section (a T-cut) I had to scheduled a C-section for this one.  This is my first time ever choosing an OB to deliver my baby.  I actually love my OB.  She is super fun and spunky.  Also because of Cheetah's birth I have to get progesterone shots once a week.  Dr. J does them at the house.  I'm not going to say they are amazing but we've figured out a routine to reduce how painful they are and if it keeps this baby in as long as he needs to be in then it will all be worth it.  Oh did I mention the baby is a he.

I had/possibly still have placenta previa, we are waiting a few more weeks to check with another ultrasound and see if the placenta has been stretched off the cervix.  When we found out they had to do a bunch of extra ultra sounds and in one of the first ones, the tech asked if I wanted to know the baby's gender, "guess what mom, it's a boy."  I cried, and cried, and cried.  Then I came home and made a balloon box to tell the rest of the family.  When the kids first asked me to have another baby they did so because they wanted another brother.  I told them we'd only do it if they agreed to be ok with the baby being a girl because you don't get to make guarantees like that, but when I found out the baby was a boy everyone was thrilled.  Don't get me wrong, I love my girls and I would have loved another girl but when there are four woman living in your house and only two men finding out you are adding another boy is a big deal. 

Besides plecenta previa I have just been so tired.  I remember my midwife, Ray, telling me when I was pregnant with Captain E that pregnancy when you are young is easy and that he saw all these woman in their 30's who were so tired, haha, now I am one of those woman.  I've also had some bad luck I've never had before.  My OB teases me that it is because my husband is a doctor.  This was my first time having placenta previa.  You know what happens when you have placenta previa?  They put you on pelvic rest for months.  How do you like them apples?  Then I got varicose veins in a place I had heard you could get them, but never had before.  Let's just say ouch, maybe pelvic rest isn't such a bad thing.  Then the last few weeks I've developed symphysis pubis dysfunction also known as "broken crouch syndrome" which basically just means that the hormone my body releases to get itself ready for birth is allowing my hips to pop in and out of place.  Just so you know, that does not feel good.  I teasingly told Dr. J that if this had happened in my first pregnancy we'd only have one kid.  I guess for the luck of our other four children it didn't happen until my last pregnancy.  Besides these inconveniences though everything has been going pretty well.  We just have ten more weeks until this little guy joins us and we are all pretty excited!!!

The True Spirit of Mother's Day

Mother's Day, a commercialized holiday that we feel the need to take care of so that our mothers don't feel left out.  I mean isn't that seriously the truth?  I'd feel a little guilty about calling it out but Anna Jarvis who pushed for the creation of the holiday actually ended up seriously disappointed with the commercialization of it...and that was before the internet.  My e-mail and Facebook has been getting Proflower, Sherri Berry, 1-800-Flowers, Shutterfly, and Edible Arrangement hits for a month.  Yesterday I finally got my act together and sent flowers to all our mothers.  Mothers I love you.  I hope you know that when you get those flowers but truthfully those flowers were more motivated by feelings of guilt than the fact that I wanted to send flowers on that day.  I want you to have all the flowers in the world, don't get me wrong, I just feel a little bad about sending them out of guilt.  That's not really what motherhood is about.  Motherhood is about sacrifice and love.  There are rewards along the way but they aren't push presents or guilt sent flowers or cards.  It is hugs by arms that can't even fit around you that eventually grow to be arms that totally engulf you.  It is sticky faced kisses.  It is the tears that sneak up on you when you watch your child dance, run, score a goal, get an award at school, or hear from a random adult or kid how impressed they are with them.  It is snuggles on cold days.  It is burned toast breakfast in bed.  It is your daughter sneaking around for a week with her gel pens using her best self taught cursive to make you a book.  It is when your grown daughter calls you up and says, "How do I do this,  I don't know how to do this?"  And yes I guess it is also guilt sent flowers because even though they are sent out of guilt, they are sent out of guilt because I love you and I don't want you to be the only mom on the block not getting anything because you deserve better than that.
 

14th Anniversary

This week was my anniversary and I put together a little video (ok it is not little, it is seriously 7:30 minutes...for that I apologize) to celebrate.  It was such a great week.  My husband actually had the whole week leading up to our anniversary off.  We spent tons of time working in our yard, we went out to fancy, fancy dinner, and we celebrated with our traditional family birthday cake.  It has been an amazing 14 years.  We've had our ups and downs but more ups than downs and there isn't anyone I'd rather spend my life with.  I feel so lucky every day that the guy I married ended up being he best friend I'd ever had. 

The one thing I hate about my new house...

As a stay at home mom I am constantly behind on laundry.  I can't be the only parent who finds herself in this plight.  I mean even as I do laundry there are six people I am responsible for wearing clothing, getting it dirty.  That alone is pretty much one load.  Add in pajamas, sheets, towels, and washcloths and I'm just constantly in the red.  If there is one thing I hate about my new house it is the fact that once again I find the laundry room downstairs.  Five years ago when we bought our first house it had a laundry room upstairs next to the bedrooms.  At the time I thought it was so stupid.  What about times when my kids got super dirty and I wanted to strip them downstairs, what about my washcloths?  Why would I want to bring this stuff upstairs?  But the truth is even with these few inconveniences the majority of our clothing is upstairs and having the laundry upstairs reduced so much work in my life.  Sure I still had to sort, wash, transfer, dry, fold, and put away but at least I didn't have to haul it all down and then up the stairs again.  Well now we are in the new house and the laundry is on the first floor again. 

My kids help, they haul baskets downstairs and clean clothes upstairs but I'm still on my own for a lot of the laundry and man it can be exhausting.  It makes me think of my father's advice that I should get a live in mother's helper.  "Would it be wrong," I think, "to make an old lady haul laundry up and down stairs even if I was paying her?"  Because guys there is no way I would consider getting a young mother's helper.  I love my husband.  I recognize he is a good guy but I'm not Gwen Stefani or Jennifer Garner and look how that worked out.  You do not put hot, nice, child friendly woman into your house and not know that there is a chance something can happen...especially if she looks like you.  Why would you put your partner's type right in front of him?  Yikes.  I mean sure we trust but let's not be stupid ladies.  If I'm getting a mother's helper she's going to look like Mrs. Doubtfire and that is all there is to it. 

This actually reminds me of a conversation I had with my father last week.  He was in Arizona with my grandmother and decided to call so that we could talk.  The humor in this is that after almost 40 years living here her English is still almost non existent and after 35 years of being her half Mexican granddaughter my Spanish is still almost non existent.  Add cell phones and her quick quiet voice and our conversation was just a mess.  By the end she was laughing so hard she could barely talk to my father as he took the phone from her.  On my end I was mostly just annoyed.  I wish that I could speak Spanish with my grandmother.  It would be lovely.  I'm sad I missed my chance to pick up the language when it would have been so much easier then it is now.  But my father just thought it was funny as well and started a conversation about my children.  It reminded me of something that had happened so often as a child.  He used to tell me all the time, "Don't have so many kids."  He would say this all the time.  I remember him saying it before my parents divorced and I remember him saying it after they divorced.  It used to really hurt my feelings.  I was one of his children, the oldest of the seven he would have and I felt like he was telling me that he resented having us.  Considering how little interest he seemed to put into us as children I felt like I had pretty good proof this is what he was saying.  This week I decided to confront him on it.  "Why did you always tell me not to have so many kid?  You have so many?  Maybe I like the noise of so many voices."  "Oh," he said, "I just saw how tired your mother was and I didn't want that for you."  There is so much irony in this statement, especially considering one of the reasons my mother was so tired was because he left her alone with four small children but there was also a little tenderness in the statement.  All this time I'd seen it as proof he didn't want any of us.  Instead it turns out he just wanted what he thought would make us happy.  I guess he didn't realize chaos makes me happy.  Although laundry doesn't...which is why I just keep thinking about that helper. 

Sometimes I don't feel like being a team player...

My husband works at a small hospital.  There are lots of doctors and nurses that staff the hospital but sort of the backbone of the hospital is my husband and the four other doctors in his group along with their two nurse practitioners.  Any patient the ER admits, they see, write orders for, and care for until they are discharged.  Any surgical patient is turned over to them after surgery.  They cover the general floor, the ICU, and my husband also does Pediatric coverage.  There is always one of them at the hospital and during the day there is also always one of their nurse practitioners.  Because the hospital is often busy they also take turns being the backup person, meaning that on days off they will usually take two half shifts to come in and help the main doctor keep things moving.  There is a lot of work to share between the five of them. 

I want to layers this over the fact that this week is spring break.  I wasn't really planning on doing anything.  I haven't been feeling amazing, and we've been moving and unpacking but J really wanted to do something to mark the days.  The problem was he was working most of spring break.  He only actually is off Thursday-Sunday of the kid's spring break.  It just didn't seem long enough to do anything.  At first we talked about taking the kids to Disneyland but J didn't want them to miss school and wanted a full seven days if we were going to make a trip like that.  Then we talked about going camping, but he wanted to go to Yellowstone.  We ultimately vetoed that idea because it is still pretty cold up there right now and could easily snow.  Finally we settled on a trip to Portland.  It is only about a 1/2 day drive from us and we figured we could at least enjoy a few nights in a suite and do some of the things they have in town there.  This trip planning though has been largely left on my shoulders since J has been exceptionally busy the last couple weeks and so I booked the hotel and planned out an itinerary alone. 

Then two days ago J calls from work to ask what our plans were.  Turns out whoever was suppose to do backup for Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday can't and they were wondering if he could pick up the half shifts.  Well first off Wednesday he's actually the one working...so basically no he can't pick up the shifts and it means he has no back up person on Wednesday and then we have our trip planned, a trip he sort of insisted we take, and the suite is already booked come Thursday-Friday.  I reminded him of that, and he was like, "Oh yeah well I can't do it then"  But someone must have been working him over because today he calls and ask if I think it would be possible for him to go in tomorrow morning and do a half shift if he starts really early because he feels bad about leaving Peter with 22 new patients.  I get that my husband is a good guy, that he is a team players, and that he is trying to do what is best for his patients and for his team.  I also know that these are the people who are there to pick up shifts if he needs them in emergencies.  I get it.  That is why I said yes.  But inside I wanted to say no because truthfully sometimes I just don't feel like being a team player. 

The Path to Accomplishment is Littered With Failure

Have you seen that video floating around Facebook about Famous Failures?  I really struck a chord with me this morning.  I think we often get so obsessed with perfection that failure becomes painful and many of us can't see a way past it to success.  I know this is something I struggle with and I've noticed that my children who are more concerned with how they are perceived struggle with this more than my other children.  My oldest daughter is a perfect example of this.  She is kind, intelligent, and fun but I notice that her patience when it comes to failure is very low.  This came to a head at the beginning of this last school year.  Her teacher called me in because they were taking a computer test on what they were suppose to learn over the year so that the end of the year they'd have a good comparison of their progress.  Her teacher told me, "Gigi is my best reader and she is one of my top math kid if not the top math kid but when she got to problems she didn't know she got so frustrated she started banging on her head with her hand and crying.  We finally stopped her test because we were worried about her."  J and I were definitely concerned. This is something we've recognized in her for a long time, it is the reason she quit soccer, gymnastics, and piano.  Her tolerance of frustration and failure is so low.  We knew we wanted to help her but just didn't know what to do.  We prayed on it and talked it over many times.  Does anyone else pray over their children when they don't know what to do?  Sometimes you just feel like you need a little more guidance.  Then on a whim, spiritual guidance, an accident we signed her up for ballet.  I'd gone with the other girls to sign them up for dance and I wasn't planning on signing Gigi up since she was already taking horse back riding lessons, but while filling out the paper work she asked me why I wasn't signing her up.  I couldn't really give her a good answer although in the back of my mind I was thinking of all the other extras she had quit in frustration.  But still I signed her up for ballet.

I'm going to be honest, I was extremely nervous about it.  The girls dance teacher is not particularly warm and fuzzy.  She is nice enough but she is extremely exacting and has no qualms about calling kids out by name when they need extra work on a step or position.  I would say she is strict and demanding.  The first few weeks I thought Gigi was going to quit.  There were a couple times in class when she just shut down on her teacher and I thought, well here we go again, but her teacher did not give up.  More than once she took my daughter out into the hall and talked to her about how hard work and mistakes are all part of learning.  She called me and asked me and J to encourage her on the home front and talk to her about how while perfection might be the ultimate goal no one is perfect on the first try, fifth try, or twenty try and that failure is just part of the process.  I think the three of us hit on this for two months and miracle of miracles a switch flipped for her.  Her teacher is always telling me now that she is one of the hardest workers, one of the first girls willing to try something new, and very encouraging of her other classmates.  I know she is still very concerned with how she looks and performs.  I can see it in her face during performance.  She is so serious, you can just see her thinking everything over.  Gigi is the opposite of Peach who spends her time in the mirror sneaking funny faces at herself, but even though she is serious, Gigi is all about trying now and I love it.  The greatest thing is that it has actually had positive outcomes at school.  Her teacher tells me that she doesn't allow herself to shut down when she gets stuck anymore and that she is always willing to try.  There are so many things I get wrong in parenting my children and I know that when it is all said and done I will have lots of regrets but this was a parenting win for me and I'm so glad to see her learning to learn from failure.  It is such an important skill to reach our full potential.  The bonus on this is that I also love getting to watch her dance, so it was a double win for mom!

The Joy of Preteens

I woke up this morning feeling terrible.  It isn't a complete shock.  Aylin was puking four days ago but after no one else got it I thought we were safe.  Then I woke up and thought I was dying this morning.  Dr. J is working but that doesn't mean I don't have four kids to take care of.  But here is where having preteens comes in handy.  I called my two oldest up to my room.  "Mom isn't feeling well this morning. Can I count on you."  "No problem."  And it has been no problem.  They go the youngers feed and dressed and then since it is Saturday they put on Mako Mermaids which since Bridget's review two days ago they'v watched 1/2 the first season.  What a blessing having older kids can be.  Sure sometimes they get a little snarky.  Sure sometimes they don't want to listen or comply but they are also amazingly independent and competent.  I don't know what I would have done five years ago or shoot maybe even two years ago but this year, this year I have functioning people living I my own house who can help me.  What a joy preteens can be, what a joy!