Locke's Birth

DISCLAIMER: This is a really long post about something that I really doubt would interest most people. I wanted a detailed account of Locke's birth so that I could look back on it later and I have this feeling that unless you really like birth stories, this post will be a total snoozer.

4/12--1:15 AM-- I pop awake from a seemingly long dream about getting run over by a steam roller over and over again only to realize that there's a very good reason for this dream. I'm being run over by a steam roller. Okay, not really. But it sure does feel like it. Ryan's sleeping peacefully next to me and I toy with the idea of waking him up but quickly disregard the notion. Not because I'm considerate but because was really liking the idea of being able to wait until the baby's arrival was imminent before telling anyone because it would make me look really tough. So I laid awake timing the contractions. As the night progressed, they didn't seem to change much. They were coming about every 5-7 minutes and only lasting 30 seconds or so. By the time Ryan woke up, they were consistently coming every 4-5 minutes but still only lasting 30 seconds. Laaame. He insisted that we call the midwife since maybe there was something she knew that I didn't but when I talked to her, she only confirmed what I was thinking: we've just got to wait until the contractions either piddle out or actually start lasting longer.

So I started bouncing on my birth ball, listening to my Hypnobabies (which I really recommend if you're planning the natural route. If you can get over the cheesiness of the whole thing it's a great technique for dealing with contractions) CDs, getting all pumped, thinking that today was the day I'd be having my baby. Eventually, the contractions became longer and stronger but also further apart. Laaame.

My mom called and said that she was going to the fabric store to get supplies for a quilt she's gonna make for Locke when he gets a bit older. I mentioned that I was starting labor and that it might be a good idea if I got out and joined her to maybe get the ball rolling. So we wandered around the fabric store looking at stuff for a while, me leaning on her whenever I'd have a contraction. People would always stare and then look away really quickly whenever I'd do this...not sure what they thought I was doing but apparently they were mildly scandalized by it.

The day went on like this, with the contractions never really progressing but never abating either till it came time to go to bed again. So I laid there for 9 hours, sure that I'd have to wake Ryan up at some point so we could head on down to the birth center and pop this baby out. But...dammit. The contractions stayed the same. Sometimes they'd be a full minute long, but then they'd start to space further apart again, I drifted off twice and that was just terrible since I was too out of it to know what was going on and deal with the pain effectively. It wasn't too bad if I just laid there listening to my relaxation music and spacing off so that's what I did until 8:30 when Ryan woke up.

So...I started day 2 of labor with zero sleep since the 2 hours I'd managed to get the night before last. I was starting to lose my composure a bit at this point and when my mom called, I had to make Ryan talk to her because just the thought of talking to her made we want to burst into tears (sometimes when things get really hard, I get this strong urge to go crying to my mommy. But dammit, I hate crying and try to do it as rarely as possible and on top of that, I was still on my tough kick...err...trying to be...so I refused to give in). And...right after he got off the phone with her, I broke down and cried anyway and just let him hold me for a good 5 minutes. Crap. So much for being tough.

Sometime late in the morning, my midwife called to get an update on how things were going. I told her that it was pretty much the same and she decided that we should probably head on down there so that she could see just what the deal was. I called my parents and told them to meet us down there. The birth center is all the way down in Orem and the trip there was the part that I worried most about when it came to labor but it was just awesome. I was actually able to get some rest of sorts so that by the time we got there, I was feeling great, refreshed, and ready to really get this whole labor ball rolling. She checked me out and found that I was dilated to a 2 (on a scale of 1 to 10 -- 1 being nothing, and 10 being ready to push the baby out). When she said that, it was seriously like WTF. WTF?!?! But when she felt around, it was like my cervix melted away and all of a sudden I was dilated to a six. Finally, a bit of validation for what I've been going through. But also, a disturbing sign that my contractions, while getting stronger, weren't very efficient at all. She also found out that the baby was positioned incorrectly, which accounted for the erratic contractions and also why they weren't seeming to do much.

The thing to do now was to try and turn that baby, which she first tried to do manually but little MeeKrob wasn't having it. He refused to budge. So we tried a bunch of other stuff, including pelvic rocking, walking around on uneven terrain, walking up stairs...after about 7 hours of this, my contractions were coming every minute and a half, lasting a full minute each, and were getting much stronger. Also, every time I'd get a contraction, it felt best to lean my full weight onto Ryan. He never complained, but everyone at the facility kept remarking that his back was gonna give out at any moment with what I was doing to him. Luckily, his back held strong through all the hours and hours of contractions.

Unfortunately, my body wasn't so tough. I was really running out of steam at this point and I wasn't able to keep anything down, not even water so I was starting to get pretty dehydrated. My parents were getting pretty worried and every couple of minutes would encourage me to try and drink as much as I could. At one point I remember puking in the sink and clogging it and ryan reaching his hand in to fix the clog so that I wouldnl't worry about making such a mess. It was really gross but I was so impressed with how great he was being. I mean, honestly. How many men would reach into a puddle of their wive's puke to help it go down the drain and make her feel better?

With all this going on, paired with the fact that I was getting much stronger, more frequent contractions, I naturally assumed that things were really progressing. I was about to get in their hot tub-like thing to hopefully finish laboring in there but my midwife wanted to check me first. And I was still dilated to a six. wtf. I was getting pretty pissed that the only thing to effectively progress in the last 7 hours was my level of pain. My midwife said that at this point, it was very unlikely that things would progress without medical intervention. She recommended that we head on down to the hospital and that I get an epidural to help me deal with the fact that they'd likely pump me full of pitocin and do some more invasive things to hopefully get that cudger to turn. To be honest, I was really relieved that she recommended the epidural because if she hadn't, I would have felt compelled to try and power through it without meds. And after 40 hours of unmedicated labor, that idea really wasn't sounding so great (for those people who don't know, pitocin makes labor much more painful than it would otherwise be).

If I thought the contractions were painful before, they seemed almost unbearable after I was informed that they really weren't doing anything effective. Except to, you know, cause a lot of pain. In that sense, they were very effective. So the car ride to the hospital, and all the admissions crap really seemed to drag, time wise. The only good thing about it is that when I stopped all that walking, the contractions got further and further apart even though they stayed as strong. I figure it took around an hour once we got to the hospital for them to give me the epidural and...man. It was pretty glorious to feel absolutely no pain after being in pretty constant pain for 42 hours or so.

From there it was a total breeze. They pumped me full of pitocin and the doctor was able to manually turn his head while I pushed during a contraction and then I was all set to push that baby out. That part went by really quickly. Everyone was being so supportive and encouraging that I think I let it go to my head a little. I felt like some sort of superstar baby-pusher-outer. It seemed like it just took a couple minutes of pushing (with my mad pushing skillz) but I think it took the better part of an hour...although a lot of that time was taken up by waiting for the doctor to finish his dinner so that he could catch the baby. As soon as he got back, it just took a few pushes and I got to meet my cudgy little goober. I can't really say much to describe his actual birth accurately. Except that it was awesome. He looked so handsome to me, even all purple and goopy.

After it was all over, I decided that I was pretty content with my birth experience, except that I felt that I cheated there at the end with the epidural. I'm really excited for the next baby, so that I can prove to myself that I can do it naturally. Hopefully it goes by a little faster though...

My mom filmed the actual birth. I guess I should explain that I was really concerned for some reason about accidentally pooping while pushing. Just about all women do it, but I just have this thing about public pooping. I really don't want to do it. Supposedly I didn't though. Phew. Oh and man do I look out of it in this video. I'm not sure if it's the drugs or the sleep deprivation but I do not appear to be lucid at all which is funny because I don't remember feeling doped up.

**WARNING this video includes graphic content. As far as I can tell, you can't actually see anything but as you're watching the video, it seems as if you might see something at any moment...well, perhaps I shouldn't ruin it for you. There may be some graphic content. You'll just have to watch and find out**

A Moment in the Life of Baby Man

Here's the way the little cudger sees things:
**click on images to see full size**What he neglects to mention is that it took him 10 minutes of sucking on daddy's finger to calm down enough to watch his manly wrestling program and that he only managed to stay awake for about 2 minutes of it before conking out completely on daddy's lap. What a total baby...

Our Little Cudger Muffin Curmudgeon

Realistically, this blog is pretty much gonna revolve around that baby man pictured above. Lil Baldy McGurglePants. And before you go assuming that I call my baby derogatory names all the time, let me assure you that he's very proud of both his hairline and especially of the copious messes he can make in his pants. He'll be 2 months in just under a week and I guess I should go over some of the highlights thus far. He was born in the Mt Timpanogus hospital at 8:30 pm 4/13/2010 and was 7 pounds 13 ounces and 20 inches long. He was jaundiced and as a result was too tired to eat much...and eating a whole bunch in the best way to get rid of jaundice so that was a bit of a problem. Another thing that helps is sun exposure so we focused on that route.




I kept worrying that he'd get sunburned because I foolishly assumed that his skin was similarly susceptible to the sun like mine is. Luckily, Ryan's genetics came through like a champ and although Locke's only 1/4 hispanic, he could pass for full blown. It turns out I was the only person getting burned while we were out sunning him. All that laying out in the sun sure tuckered him out though...here he is all conked out after a 30 min session.

Oh and it turns out that nursing is no breeze. Well...not for some people anyways. We went through over a month of him not really wanting or not being able to nurse and having to pump every time I nursed then give it to him in the bottle (luckily my friend Alexis loaned me her super fancy electric pump. it was a total lifesaver), cracked/bleeding boobs, getting mastitis at least once a week -- my mom's an expert on it though and I was always able to fix it early with her help before it became a problem -- clogged ducts...the list goes on. But finally. Finally it seems to have paid off. We're both getting a handle on it and I'm starting to see first hand how nice nursing can be. Phew. So far I'd say it was totally worth it.

Hmm...let's see. The little man is usually pretty furious unless he's out on walks, as is illustrated here with his grandpa:


lol I just realized that he doesn't look super pumped in that picture but trust me, he was.

When he's inside, he's usually got this perpetually traumatized look on his face, it's pretty hilarious.


So basically, we go for lots of walks. Which is totally fine by me. While I was pregnant with him, I researched all the baby carriers online till I found the one that would work best, hoping that I'd be out and about walking or hiking with him every day. So I'm pretty excited that he seems to love the outdoors so far.


Both of his grandmas and grandpas love spoiling him and are always making sure he has EVERYTHING that a baby's supposed to have or could ever maybe possibly want. This boy is certainly not gonna go without, that's for sure. I took some cute pictures of Ryan's parents cuddling the little tyke but I can't seem to find them...maybe they're on their camera? I'll have to investigate but in the meantime, here he is with grandma Anderson.



And with Daddy
And here he's modeling the shirt that grandma and grandpa Elkins got him.



...and here's him just looking like a stud...


Oh and the latest news is that he's started smiling pretty regularly. His first smile was around 5 weeks but they've been pretty sparse up until a little over a week ago. He's a very particular young man and it can be tricky to figure out just what it is that he wants, but when you can make him happy, it's totally worth it.

The End of an Empire...And The Dawn of a New One

Recently we said goodbye to our fierce and noble ruler, Lord Tugboat. Mighty was his power and great was his wrath. I first met Tugboat when he was a lowly captain, overseeing an organization affiliated with the Humane Society called Furburbia (it of course fell to ruin and closed just months after he left). I often stopped by the place to look at the animals but as of yet, none had caught my eye. Wandering around, I finally found myself in the back of the facility where I saw...well. Words cannot describe it. It was a glorious vision of a poofy black persian cat who didn't have full control of his tongue (it was lolling out the side). There was a cute little sign on his cage that read: Hello, my name is Tugboat *insert cute little drawing of a sail boat...clearly the author of his description didn't have a firm grasp of the meaning of his name* and I am a special needs kitty. I was found roaming the streets, eating out of garbage cans and ferociously attacking criminals. Unfortunately, as a result of all these battles, I lost nearly all of my teeth and the few that remained had to be pulled, due to the fact that they were blackened with decay (the result of some scheming on the part of my enemies I am sure). I am the former ruler of all of Europe and have recently come across hard times and am now in search of a new continent or country to rule. You will provide this for me or be killed.

To be honest, I don't remember the exact words, but you get the idea. I was lacking a proper continent but I felt compelled to at least provide this fierce young nobleman with the best country I could. However, first I had to officially meet him. I opened his cage, started to pet him, and realized that he had the loudest purr I'd ever heard. He was rumbling away, even as he turned toward my hand and bit me. HARD. Even without teeth, he still managed to make it hurt. I was a little intimidated by that and decided that maybe I should go home and think it over. I discussed him the next day with my friend Tess who told me that I was a total idiot for not swooping him up when I had the chance. I realized that she was right and as soon as we had the time, she and I went down and picked him up. I only hoped desperately that my apartment would suffice as a place to rule...and that he never found out that it wasn't an actual sovereign nation. Here is the picture that she took from her cell phone as soon as we got him home.
As you can see, he was a bit disheveled but clearly still a glorious and mighty cat. Within a few days of bringing him home, he was keeping his tongue in his mouth and I'm proud to say that it almost never lolled out again. He ruled over my household for 8 years, and I can honestly say that they were the most amazing and terrifying years of my life. He was a true force to be reckoned with. Luckily, before he died he had time to train our son (Ryan's and my son, just to dispel any rumors) in the proper way to rule a nation. And Locke has sure been following his advice to the letter. He's the new Young Master and is pretty amazing at giving orders so far. So thank you, Lord Tugboat, for starting a Dynasty. You will be sorely missed.

RIP Tuggy Buggy 1942-6/3/2010