Sounds Like Life to Me

Clearly, blogging has fallen to the wayyyyy back burner.  I'm ok with it.  I'll get there eventually and meanwhile, I'm soaking up my baby days with Violet, spending some one-on-one time with Lily and Andrew and enduring this perpetual winter.

I find it highly suspicious that Disney releases a movie about a princess turned queen who freezes everything and creates an eternal winter and we're having the coldest temperatures in decades. Our front storm door looks like Elsa got to it.

Speaking of Frozen, Lily is obsessed!  Just recently she's gotten into watching more movies than tv shows, so Frozen is at the top of her list.  She thinks she's Elsa half the time and Anna the rest. When George is in the bathroom, she goes to the door and knocks on it and sings, "Do you want to build a snowman? Come on let's go and play..."  Her daddy, of course, responds with, "Go away, Lily."  She continues her acting and singing sadly replies, "Ohhh kayyy, byyyyyye."  She's done this a couple times and I'm hoping to catch it on video.  She lays down on the floor to try to talk to him and sing under the crack at the bottom of the door. It's hysterical.   She also belts out "Let it Go" like she's Idina Menzel and does all the movements that Queen Elsa does while she's singing.  The pure innocence and passion with which she does this literally brings tears to my eyes. Also hoping to catch it all on video. Stay tuned.

We took the girls to the theater to see Frozen in late December.  Lily was enamored, {hence the above described obsession} Violet was fantastic-slept and nursed, George fell asleep haha, and I loved it as much as Lily did! The Little Mermaid has always been my favorite Disney movie, followed closely by Beauty and the Beast.  Frozen has easily moved into the runner-up spot behind my beloved Ariel.  Somebody's Easter basket will have it in it...not sure if Lily's or mine hahaha!

Violet's 1st movie ~12.29.13

Andrew and I went to his marching band banquet the other night.  As a rookie band mom, it was awesome to see all the kids and their parents celebrating a passing marching band season, find out who the next year's drum major will be, watch a slide show reminiscing the hard work and sweat of band camp, practice and performances, and just enjoy time together.  I have my own amazing memories of marching band and I'm glad that Andrew loves it as much. I couldn't be prouder! I cannot believe he has gotten so tall at barely 14!

Hunting season wrapped up recently, as well. This was George's first year and he got a doe and a buck this season!  As much as I may not want to be part of the process of it all, I have no issue with it. It made him happy and he was {in my mind} successful.  My husband is a learner. I love that about him.  He spent time researching and studying so many different aspects of crossbow hunting and deer patterns, and everything about processing.    I'm fortunate enough that he's able to hunt virtually in our backyard, so there was no weekends away or travel time. Given that I was very pregnant at the beginning of his season and we had a newborn as it closed out, I'm grateful, he was literally a text message away. I'm proud of his success this season and that it made him happy!

 

 Life has been interesting adding a new baby to the mix. Lily has become fiercely independent which can be a challenge when I'm nursing Violet. I ask "What are you doing?" and she hollers back, "I'm making chocolate milk!"  *cue panic*  Sure enough, she's gotten the stool over to get her cup out of the cabinet above the sink, stood in the refrigerator to get the milk, had milk poured in the cup and was ready to add in the chocolate when I got to her.  I remind myself that her strong will and independent nature will serve her well in life, but at 3 years old, it's a struggle sometimes.  There is nothing she thinks she cannot do. And she has no qualms about trying whatever it is either.  Like picking up Violet at 2 weeks and moving her from the rock n play to our bed without either of us around.  Yeah, she's the epitome of doing first and asking for forgiveness later. ;)  

Violet, fortunately, is a super happy baby! She just has such a light about her and I am so, so grateful for her every day. I have been working on her updates as well and someday {hopefully soon} she'll have more presence on this blog.  For now, I'm enjoying the moments with her and the rest of my family that go by way too quickly.  It's not even sleepless nights with her because she's been my earliest sleeper. It's having 3 other kids that makes me exhausted.  

Violet is one of the greatest gifts of my life and I thank God for her everyday.

Steph Snippets

~Thanks for the comments, tweets, instagram messages, emails about Violet's birth story! It was one crazy, beautiful day--that is for certain!  She's doing great and growing so quickly and if I have time to sneak in a shower between she and Lily, well, then that's a great day!

~I have pictures and stats to update about Violet here. If you can't wait to see her, follow me on Instagram. That's my favorite social media outlet these days! :)

~Andrew had a birthday, so I have an update about him. I think the shock of having a 14 year old has begun to sink in.

~Life is tough with a newborn and a toddler.  And a big kid.  And a stepkid. And a husband.

~I do not understand the patterned leggings craze. They're out of control.  The Aztec? Whoa. I think it's because they remind of those Mexican blankets and those were itchy, but the fact that I put patterned leggings on my toddler and baby, so I think they're kind of weird for adult women.  And I crack up at the bootie craze too because I wore those ankle booties when I was in 8th grade. They were my favorite pair of shoes. Seriously.  I think this just means I'm officially old.

~I do not have the Christmas spirit this year.  At. All.  Bah humbug. :(

~Andrew has recently lost his electronic privileges. 14 is tough. He just said to me during a conversation about making better choices: "There's nothing left to take from me but my dignity." He was serious. I laughed. Out loud. 

~We got rid of cable a little more than a month ago. Honestly, the only thing I really miss is watching the local news (lame, I know), sports, and specials live.  Worth the money saved each month. One of  Lily's new favorite movies is The Lorax.  She stood up on a chair in our family room and shouted, "I. AM. THE. LILYYYYYYYYY"   She's clearly made the no cable transition just fine.  Netflix is ok by her too.

~Three is way more difficult than two.  In both age and number of kids.  ha!

~I love saying "the girls" or "my girls."

~Lily has asked for Christmas lights for Christmas.

~Lily's glasses got broken today at school. She slammed heads with another boy and her glasses went flying.  Here we are a week before Christmas and as I said above I have zero Christmas spirit...all I kept thinking was that she HAS to wear glasses and to be without them while the time to replace them plus the cost of replacing them... bah humbug again.  I took them to the place we bought them with a crying Violet and a can-I-spin-on-the-wheelie-chairs-in-here Lily and asked the woman when we walked in if they were repairable. She asked about Violet while she looked up our information --"How old is she? Ohhhh she's so cute"  She walked to the back while I kept Lily occupied spinning on the chairs, came back to her work station and said she had the same frames and to give her a minute.  She replaced the demo lenses with Lily's lenses, handed them to me and said, "Merry Christmas."   I cried.  A little less bah humbug now.

Violet's Birth Story: part 2

Part One

I was in our bedroom getting the hospital bags out of the closet and gathering up my last minute toiletries to throw in there while my contractions continued to strengthen.  I knew I was not going to make it in time to have an epidural at this point.  I leaned over the edge of the bed, the bathroom counter, sat on the toilet, trying to get through the pain. As I leaned over the bed, trying to get those last minute items together was the moment I knew I wasn't going to make it to have an epidural.  I momentarily debated having George call an ambulance. For real.

When I stood upright again hoping to move quickly in between contractions, I shouted to George, " I think my water broke!"  Back to the toilet, I went.  I discovered I was bleeding and wasn't sure if my water had broken or I was just feeling the blood.  He yelled that we needed to hurry up and get going because we weren't having this baby at home.  I honestly do not know how long it took me to get from the bedroom to the car, but I know that every moment I tried to do something...walk, get out the front door, get in the car, I'd have another excruciating contraction and have to stop.

I am not one who is very vocal about pain.  I know I'm a wuss and tend to keep it in, deal with it and keep moving. Kind of like the day I broke my ankle at 31 weeks pregnant.  It hurt. Badly.

And I knew it was broken, but I didn't want Lily to be disappointed to not go to the park with our friends. So we went and my ankle hurt. I pushed through it.  There was no chance of that here.  I was crying, moaning, shouting, and swearing. I held nothing back.   I yelled at my husband to shut up after he told me I needed to get it together to get out to the car, but couldn't finish what I wanted to say because he had no idea that I wasn't just freezing up. The pain was debilitating and I had to wait to move until the contraction had subsided. Although I didn't have any more time except to say, "shut up!" 

In the car at 10:48am and we're off to the hospital!  Par for the course, we needed gas.  George was in list mode:  Get enough gas to get us there.  Make a plan for Lily to get picked up at noon at school. Not have a baby in the car. 

I found a position that was the most bearable and needed to lie back in the seat on my side facing the driver's seat.  Now mind you this did nothing to stop the pain or my crying, moaning, shouting and swearing.  Just was something I was able do.  When I tried lying back in the seat at first, the seatbelt was cutting into my neck.  So Ms. Always Wear Your Seatbelt No Matter What, shouted, "How do I get this fucking seatbelt off??"  Not a shining moment.

We called my good friend whose daughter goes to school with Lily and asked if she could take Lily with her after school.  George was on the phone with her, I was shouting they knew at school I was in labor and it would be ok for her to take Lily too!  That peace of mind knowing Lily was in good hands was the last piece of the puzzle I needed in place so I could to focus on nothing but this baby--  both keeping her inside until we got to the hospital and praying for a healthy delivery.

For the most part, I had my eyes closed on the way to the hospital.  When G was on the phone about Lily, I had opened my eyes to know where we were {approximately 7 minutes from home generally} and then again when we crossed the Vets Bridge through the city and once more when we had to slow down drastically for a car that cut us off merging into the one lane to take us to the hospital. 

The rest of the ride, which I learned we took at 105 mph, I was going through my cycle of crying, moaning, shouting and swearing.  Repeated theme:  "We're not going to make it!"  George was honestly the only thing that kept me from going over the edge.  Everytime I cried that we weren't going to make it, he'd reassure me that we would, we were almost there, I was doing great, and to keep breathing. 

The thing about Pittsburgh is that there is no rhyme or reason to traffic in this city.  I'm so thankful my husband used to be a police officer and was trained to drive at high rates of speed in this city. Truly.  However, nothing can be done when you turn onto the street to get into the hospital and it's backed up with 20+ cars waiting to turn into the parking lot.  I had opened my eyes again here.

So, what does any former police officer do?  Drives down the opposite side of the road.

It was clear until right before we needed to turn in when opposing traffic was there.  George honked the horn, rolled down his window, shouted that I was in labor going to have the baby in the car, "BACK UUUUUUUUPP!"   A security guard on my side of the car/street shouted he was going in to get a wheelchair and managed to get cars moved enough to get us up to the front door of the hospital.

For as much trouble as I had getting IN the car at home, it was just as difficult getting OUT of the car at the hospital. For the last part of the ride, I had been squeezing my legs closed tighter than I had ever before trying to keep this baby in and not deliver her in the car.

 Finally, I was able to get out of the car, but had to wait again before I could sit in the wheelchair as I contracted that closely again.  Again, more crying, moaning, shouting...I think I had stopped swearing at this point!

Once I was in the wheelchair, George ran me through the lobby while I {now embarrassingly} was screaming out in pain hoping we'd make it to deliver this baby in a bed instead of in the car, in front of the hospital, or in a wheelchair in the lobby.   I'm pretty sure I traumatized some first timers who may have been in or around the echoing lobby of the hospital. 

Labor & Delivery is on the 2nd floor, so luckily we were off the elevator quickly. George kept running, pushing me through the hospital. It was honestly like a scene from a movie where the registration clerk shouted out questions as we flew by... "What's your name?! What's your birthdate?! Who's your doctor?!"  George replied with my name and birthday and "She's been here before!" I shouted my doctor's name as the double doors opened and a nurse took over pushing my wheelchair down the hall.  It was a sea of people in blue scrubs parting the way for me. I kept thinking, "Wow this breeze feels so good," as whoever was pushing me was running to get me into a L&D room. I was so hot and sweating bullets all the while still shouting out in pain.   It felt like a scene from a movie where the camera is the essentially the character.  The doctors and nurses standing on either side of the hallway looking down at me as I blew past them in the wheelchair, people shouting about me to find my doctor and trying to gather details about my pregnancy. Very surreal.

Somebody helped me get my undies off as I was trying to get out of the wheelchair onto the bed and I felt no relief lying down at all.  I kept screaming, "I need to push NOW!"  A doctor told me they were trying to help me, but I needed to get in the bed before I could do that. I'm so grateful I was clean after having both showered that morning and then taken a bath.

The doctor I had hoped would deliver me was on call that day I already knew, so while they were calling for her, another doctor--Dr. Cheeks introduced himself.  George asked if I could get any pain medicine as they were checking me once I was on the bed and all I heard was... "She's at a 9 1/2, there's no time." 

I shouted some more while I cried.  Some things like, "It burns so badly!" {even then I used adverbs correctly} "I need to push!" "I can't do this!"  and a lot more incoherent moaning/shouting something or other.

I had my eyes closed trying to focus on something other than how painful this was and all I could hear was George when they told him to grab my leg. I also heard my doctor say, "I came running!"  

My love was so encouraging throughout the entire process {not that the process was a long time, mind you.} telling me I could do this, her head was coming, we were almost done, I was doing great, reminding me to put my chin to my chest and push, here she comes...

And finally the relief was there!

Our baby. Our girl.

Born at 11:23am.

We had just left our house at 10:48am.

When she decided she was ready, she was ready.  On her due date. 

I had referred to her as "our grand finale" many times throughout my pregnancy. 

She definitely made it ring true.

Violet ilyanna, my littlest love, born weighing 10 pounds even and 22 inches long. 

Thank God I didn't know she was 10 pounds before because I don't think I could have overcome that mental hurdle during my labor.  It was not my plan to give birth naturally. What's that saying about telling God your plans... :)


*Part 3 will have pictures and some more details from nurses, friends that I want to always remember