Big Girl Bed!

The upstairs of our house has been in a state of disarray for the past few months.  Ever since we decided to renovate the nursery we have had boxes and furniture and rugs and clothes strewn about our bedroom.  The full size mattress that took up one half of the room was particularly annoying.  I had to sneak behind it to retrieve my underwear and pajamas, while Paul used it for his closet slinging shirts and jeans along the edge as he saw fit.  We had enough and decided it was time to turn the bed over to Chloe. 

I ordered some bedding online from Target.  I knew it had to be something with animals on it so that she would think it was cool.  Also, it had to match her existing paint colors and window coverings because the thought of painting another room of our house was just devastating.  I found this adorable bedding with owls and porcupines on it.  We started to get her excited about a big girl bed and when the bedding finally came we brought it up to her room while it was still in the box.  We opened it up and made it seem like the biggest deal in the world.  She was so excited!  She rolled all over the comforter and made us lie down with her to read books on it.  I washed it up that night and the next night we moved the bed into her room.

Before

Side Note: If you look carefully on the floor just to the right of the crib you will see a Chloe turd.  One night I was giving Chloe a little naked time when she must have dropped a random turd.  She finished her poop in the hallway.  I found this random poo two days later when it was all dried up.  I thought Griffin did it, but then I remembered the naked time.  Ooops!  And in case you are wondering, that is some sort of safe in Chloe's room.  For now it stores diapers.  I'm sure later down the road it will store Baby Brother on occasion, or vice versa.  The vinyl wall cling I ordered from Etsy and the rug is from Pottery Barn.

After

The first night I tucked her into her bed and read her books like I normally would.  Then I left her with her books and her "babies" and she read them books for about an hour before falling asleep.  She never tried to get out or anything.  The second night was the same thing, except when she woke up in the morning she tried to get out of her room by herself.  Then the third night she tried to make a break for it after I finished her stories.  Paul came up right away, wrangled her into bed, and read her a story.  She has been doing so well., and up until we had grandparents staying at our house every other day waiting for Abram, she was sleeping in a little later, too.  That bed looks to be about a million times more comfortable than her crib. 

Chloe has now been in her bed for about two months.  She has only come out of her room in the middle of the night a handful of times.  She normally just walks in and asks for Mama or Dada and one of us will tuck her back in.  We lie down with her for a few minutes and then go back to our room.  Also, she has fallen out of bed three times.  I really wanted to put rails on the sides of the bed, but Paul refuses.  He says that she only falls out when we forget to tuck her in.  I told him that if she falls out one more time she is getting rails.  We'll see.

When Chloe wakes up she usually hops out of bed, opens her door, and runs into our bedroom.  Every now and then she will stay in her bed an call for me.  I still can't get over the fact that my sweet baby is sleeping in a full size bed.  She is such a big girl!

I don't really have a lot of images from Chloe's nursery before we started converting it to a big girl room.  We never really finished decorating the room since she came so early.  Here is a picture of the dresser that Paul refinished for Chloe's room.  The dresser was my Mom's when she was a little girl.  Paul's cousin, Carmen, gave us the mirror, Paul's sisters bought Chloe the ballerina pig piggy bank, my friend Kelly provided the hand painted letters, and the elephant lamp was from Pottery Barn.

We used to have a changing table in the room and a rocker that have since been replaced with a toy storage unit. 

Before

After

We still have some decorating to do, but the room will have to do for now.  If we ever get around to decorating Chloe's room I'll be sure to post an update.

A Few More Pics

We had to stay in the hospital for two nights, because we had to wait 30 hours after the birth for newborn screening.  That meant we wouldn't be discharged until after 9:30, so we stayed a second night against our will.  The extra night brought us a few hospital visitors including Monica, Kelly & Matt, and Julie.  Since we had Abram on a weekday we didn't have nearly as many visitors as we had with Chloe.  We were so happy to finally be discharged on Thursday around 10:00 a.m..  Here are a few more pictures from the hospital.

Go Broncos!

Heading home!

The Birth Story

I had an appointment with my midwife on Monday, January 9, 2012.  I had a non-stress test that lasted about 20 minutes that indicated that the baby was doing well.  I met with Gail, one of the two midwives in the practice, after the test.  Since I mostly met with Amy, we discussed what had been going on lately.  I told her how Amy stripped my membranes on Thursday, which caused a lot of pain, but didn't seem to yield any immediate results.  She asked if I wanted it done again, and I told her only if it helped.  She checked me and said that I was at 3-4 cm.  She gently "stretched" the membranes, which didn't hurt at all.  After that she looked at me and in a very stern tone told me that as soon as I was sure I was in labor that I should call the office immediately, and then go straight to the hospital.  She felt certain that the labor would go quickly. 

I woke up Tuesday morning, January 10, 2012 at 4:00 a.m. to a light contraction.  I was so excited that it was actually painful.  It is funny how you yearn for pain toward the end of a pregnancy.  I was so sick of Braxton Hicks contractions!  I grabbed my phone, sat up in bed, and started timing the contractions.  They were about five minutes apart and a minute long.  Not very painful, but I knew they were real.  Chloe woke up shortly after and so Paul decided to get up, too.  I took a bath, ate some breakfast, folded clothes, etc. all in an effort to stay busy to see if the contractions would stop.  They didn't stop, but they didn't get stronger or longer either.  I called the midwife office, and Gail was on call for a short while longer.  She told me to head up to triage, because the worst they could do is send me home.

Doug and Bobby Kay were at our house on call for the weekend.  We packed our bag, said goodbye to Chloe, and headed up to the hospital.  We made a pit stop at McDonald's on the way since I was sure they wouldn't let me eat anything delicious in the hospital.

When we finally got to the hospital it was about 8:00 a.m.  My triage nurse, Amy, checked me and said I was still dilated to a 3.  They did a non-stress test, which required me to lie down for a half hour.  I didn't have much in the name of contractions during this time, but I did get to take a little nap.  When I woke up the nurse suggested we take a walk for an hour to see if we could get the labor going.

Paul and I walked around the hospital for about 45 minutes.  I had a few good contractions, but nothing terrible.  When we got back the nurse checked me and said I was definitely a 4 and it felt like I was in labor.  We watched some television, signed some forms, and waited to be admitted. 

A nurse brought us up to our delivery room at about 11:30 a.m.  It was the best room in the hospital.  We had a huge corner suite with a view of the skyline.  We met our nurse, Stephanie, who said she was there for me to give me whatever kind of birth experience I wanted.  She was totally on board with supporting me in a natural childbirth, but said if I opted for an epidural she would be fully supportive of that, too.  Stephanie hooked me up to some fetal monitors, and then we talked for about an hour about my last birth experience, what I wished went differently, and my hopes for this birth.  My midwife, Amy, was on call by then, and she showed up after about a half hour. 

40 Weeks, 4 Days, and 4 cm :o)

Paul discovered that we had access to dozens of free on-demand movies.  We selected The Adjustment Bureau.  I ordered a hospital lunch, but was told I had to get "something light," so I couldn't opt for the chicken fingers.  Bummer.  We were trying to watch our movie.  We are very serious television watchers.  But the nurse kept coming in every hour to do fetal monitoring.  It wasn't terrible, though.  I was sitting on the birthing ball, and she would just come in and hook me up to the portable monitors.

At around 1:30 p.m. Amy asked if I wanted her to check me to see if I had made any progress.  I told her sure as long as she was very gentle and didn't break the bag of waters.  She said, "Wow!  I'd say you are a 7.  You are amazing."  I was pretty excited, except I knew that meant that the hard part was just around the corner. 

I jumped in the whirlpool tub for a while.  When I got out the contractions were coming on stronger and closer together.  Paul did such a great job applying counter pressure to my back during each contraction.  I sat mostly on the birthing ball, so that he could sit on the bed and practically squeeze me to death during each contraction.  It helped so much.  My nurse said she could tell I was about to go through transition, because I would curl my toes and clench my fists during each contraction.  She asked if she should go get Amy at around 3:00 p.m. to see if I had made more progress.  When she and Amy walked in I was having my worst contraction yet.  This one actually brought tears to my eyes and gave me the shakes.  That is exactly what happened during my labor with Chloe, so I knew I was almost there. 

When Amy checked me I was at a 9 and I told her just to break the bag of waters so that I could begin pushing.  Pushing for me is the hardest part.  I remembered how much it hurt with Chloe, so I was a little frightened to do it again.  They told me to do whatever I felt.  I tried bearing down a little and then before long I couldn't help but push.  It was so painful. 

It didn't take long and the baby's head was crowning.  The worst part was that the contraction stopped so I had to sit there with the baby's head half way out waiting for the next contraction.  There may have been some profanities exclaimed.  At the next contraction I pushed with everything I had.  It seemed like the head would never end.  Oh my... it burned so much.  Once I finally got the head out one shoulder came out quickly.  Amy said, "that's it, you're done... wait a minute... one more big push.  His other shoulder is stuck."  That isn't what you want to hear.  I summoned some sort of super-human strength and pushed his other shoulder out.  I have never felt more relief in my whole life.  I just kept saying "Thank God he is out!  Thank God he is out!"  I pulled him up to my chest where he screamed his little head off.  I told him I knew how he felt! 

I gave birth to a beautiful baby boy at 3:38 p.m. on January 10, 2012.  He was 8 pounds, 11 ounces and 20 inches long.  We named him Abram Eugene.  More on that later.

Holy crap I'm glad that is over!!

I swear pushing a baby out without an epidural is like having an out-of-body experience.  You are there and you are feeling every single sensation, but you are so out of your damn mind it is like you are looking down on yourself writhing in pain.  When it is over you only have flashbacks.  So much of it has been immediately blacked out.  I can remember looking at Paul.  I had my right hand gripped to the back of his head holding on for dear life.  He was right there cheering me on and supporting me.  He is such a wonderful husband and father.  And also an amazing birthing coach.  I can remember Amy telling me I could do this over and over again.  I can remember Stephanie getting right in my face after I said I couldn't do it.  She said, "yes you can.  You are doing it.  Remember how I told you Amy was going to give you instructions to help?  I need you to listen to the instructions."  I remember shaking off the self-doubt and bringing myself to the present.  The instructions were to grab my legs behind my knees and put my chin down.  Then I was told to push, push, stop.  Push, push, stop.  Something like that, so that I wouldn't tear.  I followed the instructions, which helped get the baby out basically in two contractions.  I am so grateful to God for blessing me with such an amazing team.  When it is over you are at a loss for words.  So grateful that it is over, so proud of yourself for doing it, so amazed at the precious baby screaming on your chest.

The worst part about not having an epidural is that you have to sit there afterward shaking uncontrollably while being stitched up as the nurse presses on your uterus.  You can't really focus on the baby, because everything after having the baby is so painful.  The adrenaline is pumping through your body so hard that it takes everything in your power to stay in the present. 

We waited a while and cut the cord.  The nurse weighed the baby while I received my stitches.  He cried for two hours straight, I think.  The nurse gave him a bath, weighed him, checked his vitals, etc.

Dada cuts the cord.

8 pounds, 10.6 ounces

Paul called our families, and they came up at around 4:30 p.m.  I ordered dinner: fish and chips.  I figured I deserved it after such an amazing feat.  Chloe wasn't terribly interested in meeting her baby brother.  She mostly just wanted to eat my cheese and crackers and play around with all of the cool stuff in the delivery room.  I was so happy to see my big girl.

Kisses!

My babies!

Overall, I'd say I had a great birth experience at the hospital.  It was certainly safer for the baby than me staying home until I was 9 cm like I did with Chloe.  By the end of the experience I had fallen in love with my nurse and my midwife.  After my nurse dropped me off in my recovery room she sat on my bed, gave me a huge hug, and told me I should write a book.  She told me she had a great day and that she was so happy to have been a part of my birth.  I told her I felt the same way. 

I don't know what I did to deserve two wonderful birth experiences.  I cannot thank God enough for my infinite blessings.

Introducing Abram Eugene

Our beautiful son, Abram Eugene, was born at 3:38 p.m. on January 10, 2012.  He was 8 pounds, 10.6 ounces and 20 inches long.  We are completely in love!

Feelings on Forty

I am officially 40 weeks and one day pregnant.  Every day past 40 weeks feels like an entire week.  Your heightened senses tune in to and over analyze every kick, every hiccup.  You are so aware of each movement that you swear you can feel the baby blinking. 

You Google a different version of the phrase "how to induce labor naturally" at least once per day, desperately hoping to find an amazing new method to induce labor that doesn't involve hippo-like sex, caster oil, or nipples. 

You walk, squat, take the stairs, and repeat.  You bounce and rock hopelessly on your "birthing ball," which once served the more common purpose of "work-out ball."  

You beg your physician or midwife to "strip your membranes" despite the fact that the name of the procedure itself sounds horrific. You spend the entire day after having your membranes stripped expecting labor to start, and are rabidly furious when you find the only side effect is crippling pain that leaves you glued to the couch. 

You carefully and eagerly inspect your toilet paper for blood or mucous - anything that points to the starting signs of labor.  It is the only time in your life when you rejoice to find either of these substances coming from your body.  You text your Mommy friends immediately upon its arrival and fight the urge to share the good news with all of Facebook.

You wake every two hours to pee and towel yourself off as you have been sweating profusely. You might as well be feeding a hungry baby every two hours, because you aren't getting any sleep in your current state. 

You clean your house within an inch of its life at week 37.  Then again at week 38.  By week 39 I swear if I have to clean this effing house one more effing time I'm going to lose my effing mind. 

In your mind your new due date becomes dependent on completing random tasks.  If I scrub the grout in the bathroom the baby will come.  When that doesn't work, if I back up all of my files, make DVDs out of all of our home videos, and repack my hospital bag the baby will come.  If I scrub the baseboards, set up and sanitize all of the baby gear, and mop the floors the baby will come.  When none of these things help, maybe he is waiting for the Lions to win their first playoff game.  Maybe he is waiting for a full moon.  The 7th is a weird day to be born, anyway.  I bet no one in the world is ever born on the 7th.  The 8th sounds better. 

Every woman you know is having her baby before you - even those due weeks after you.  You swear if you log on to Facebook to find that one more woman had her baby before you, you are deleting your account forever.  Seriously this time.  You hear that Facebook?  Forever!

None of your maternity shirts fit you anymore, and you surrender to sweatpants and your husband's fleece.  You go to the bank and grocery store in gray Hanes and could care less.  You aren't even trying anymore.  Pretty soon gravity is just going to suck your massive body into the face of the Earth anyway, so who really cares who sees you. 

So that is where I am at on my 281st day of day of pregnancy.  I was hoping that tonight would be the night, but just a few hours ago I looked up the baby's Zodiac sign.  Capricorn, just like me.  I was devastated to read the following:

"There are two very different types of Capricorns.  The first is represented by the mountain goat, always climbing higher and higher; never content until reaching the top. The second is the garden goat, with little adventurous spirit or ambition-happy to remain within a small domain, refusing to budge unless it is pushed."

With that in mind, I'm calling it a night.

The Poopcapades

Sometimes I write a post and then for whatever reason I never end up posting it.  This are my original thoughts on potty training from back in September.  We have made very little progress on this front since then.  Chloe, however, has found there is power in the word poop.  She only has to "poop, poop" before bed, early in the morning, before a nap, or when she just wants your full attention while she sits on the toilet. 

Having once potty trained a puppy I can truly appreciate the joy and sense of accomplishment associated with each successful potty.  I, myself, am guilty of calling my Mom on numerous occasions to give her updates on Griffin's potty training success.  I also called her in a fit of rage when he went through a short period of regression.  Potty training is stressful, and I'm not exactly looking forward to it.  I am going to make a promise to myself, however.  I do solemnly swear not to post frequent my-kid-pooped-on-the-potty Facebook updates.  Facebook potty training updates baffle me nearly as much as posts from late 20-somethings featuring lyrics and weird music videos.  No one gives a crap.  Probably no one cares that Chloe went poop on the potty, but since this blog is, in its most original sense, for Chloe to read someday, I thought I'd post here vaguely about her pooping escapades.  Also, I love talking about poop.  And farts.  My sister-in-law will vouch for this.

We bought Chloe a baby potty seat and two potty seats for the big toilets in our home.  I figured it was time to introduce the potty considering she had started saying "poop, poop" while pointing at her butt.  She would then proceed to poop in her diaper sometime over the next five minutes.  Now that we have the potty training tools in place, we sit her on the potty every now and then.  Sometimes I ask her if she has to go potty and she will nod her head "yes" or say "mmm hmm," in the cutest little voice ever, which is her version of the word "yes."  She will sit there for a minute or two before getting bored.  Usually nothing ever comes out.  Last week she said "poop, poop" and I sat her on the toilet.  She pushed really hard, but yielded only a fart.  I was cracking up and was very excited for her, so she was pretty excited about it, too.  On September 11 she said "poop, poop" and I sat her on her little potty.  She went a little in her diaper, but finished up on the potty.  That was her first and only successful attempt. 

Funny story.  Yesterday, I left Paul in charge of Chloe while she took her bath.  He tends to get a little sidetracked and when I said to him "How is Chloe doing?  It sounds a little quite in there," I was happy to see that she was still okay.  I was unhappy to see that she was playing with the turds floating in the tub.  Paul freaked and plucked her out of the tub.  She ran into our bedroom where she proceeded to pee on the floor.  As I was cleaning up the pee she ran over to watch Paul clean the poop out of the tub.  Before she got there she squatted and finished her crap right there on the rug.  I then moved to the rug to clean up the soft serve, and she ran back to our bedroom to look at herself in the mirror.  And finish peeing.  I swear.  She was worse than a puppy.  We finally managed to clean up all of the pee and poop, sanitize her toys and much of the upstairs, and get her diapered.

Another funny thing is that Chloe has figured out what it means to fart or toot. She will toot accidentally and then she will try and try to do it again.  One night Chloe farted and Paul told her to do it again.  So she bore down and pushed as hard as she could when all of a sudden she pooped herself.  Her little face was in shock!  We were laughing hysterically and when Paul asked if she need a new diaper she vigorously shook her head yes.  We thought if we had it on camera we could have won some cash.

Honestly, like I said, we haven't made any progress on the potty training front.  I just don't have the energy right now, and I'm pretty sure that Chloe doesn't even have a clue that she pees.  While I'm thinking of it, though, the other morning Chloe woke up at 5:30 a.m. or so and said "poop, poop, Mama."  I just lied there in my bed and grumbled something like "yeah, right" since I knew she only wanted me to wake up.  I told her to go back in her room and play, so she did.  When she got really quite I got suspicious and walked into her room.  She was lying on the floor on her back and I thought maybe she had fallen back asleep, but about five minutes later she ran into my room butt naked flinging her dirty diaper around her head like a lasso yelling "poop, poop."  Thankfully, she hadn't actually pooped.  Just peed.  She must have really wanted a new diaper if she figured out how to strip herself out of her clothes and diaper.

I'm sure I'll have more updates on potty training in the near future, but it will probably follow the sleep deprived zombie months that are sure to start within a week or so.

Mama's Birthday & The First Snow

Because we felt quite sure that a certain someone was going to make his debut on 12/30/11 we asked my parents to come down for the night.  They were going to come for the weekend to celebrate my birthday anyway, but they came the extra night just to be safe.  Needless to say the entire weekend came and went, and I'm still pregnant!  I did have a great birthday, however, and Chloe loves her Grammy and Papa so much that she was just beside herself to have them at her command the entire weekend.

We started my birthday morning by going out for a nice breakfast.  Chloe was a very good girl.  Just when she started getting a little bored the waiter brought out a huge fruit bowl, and she was busy for the rest of breakfast hunting for grapes and strawberries within the sea of melon. 

After Chloe's nap we went to Costco and Best Buy.  My dad bought a new laptop for himself and Paul bought me a new Canon DSLR camera for my birthday.  I'm so spoiled!  I have wanted one ever since we had Chloe, but have never been able to part with that kind of money.  We found an entry level DSLR camera on sale, and it is amazing!  I am finally able to capture Chloe's wide range of emotions.

Later that night Paul made a huge feast with snow crab legs and seafood pasta.  It was better than any restaurant.  Seriously.  We celebrated with cake and ice cream and then played board/card games until the ball dropped.  It was a great way to wrap up my 27th year of life and ring in a new year. 

We received our first real snow of the season.  It is amazing since we are normally covered in a blanket of snow several times over at the start of December.  We took Chloe out to play in the snow.  She really loved it and wanted to stay out longer, but her cheeks were bright red and her eyes were watering after just an hour, so we brought her in. 

We asked Griffin how he feels about having a baby brother.  He didn't have much to say, but I got the feeling he isn't thrilled.