There are a few major things I'll remember about the Spring of 2014. All the sweet moments with Emme, of course. But I'll also remember the crazy stress (and excitement) of building a house--more on that later--and finally, the even crazier stress of having Murphy's Law apply to my Ph.D. It felt like everything that could possibly go wrong, did.
Truth be told, I had really struggled with finding my way writing a dissertation. My chair, Dr. Mays had been a very inspiring teacher. She was enthusiastic, her classes were always organic and stimulating, and she always super critical of my ideas in a way that helped me to improve...or so I thought. Because I always wanted to go into Victorian Literature and she is a well-published scholar in this area, she was the super obvious choice for my dissertation chair.
But as I struggled over a year and produced several mediocre and meandering proposals for my dissertation topic, she began to really give up on me. She wouldn't tell me what she to write on, but she wanted me to find my own way. Finally, she asked to have lunch with me after what seemed to be some encouraging reception of my latest idea. We met at this Mediterranean restaurant right by UNLV's campus. I was so excited to see this professor that I had been trying desperately to impress and please. She was kind to me but candid in a way that crushed me. In the midst of our 2 hour long lunch, she said something to me like this: "I don't think you really want to do this. I mean, you have a beautiful family, you already have a job. Do you really NEED to finish your Ph.D.??"
Need to finish?? I insisted that I always finished what I started.
"It's not that I don't think you can do this. I just don't think you want to. Your work ethic won't get you through this. Finishing your Ph.D. is really more of a calling."
She never said the words, but I couldn't help but think, "She thinks I'm a stupid, uninteresting, and incapable Mormon housewife." I remember moving my food around on my plate and barely eating it because I was afraid it would come back up.
I bawled to my mom and Shaye the whole way home from Vegas. It's funny because I feel like people think that being a student in pursuit of an advanced degree means you're super smart. I've always insisted that I just had time (because I couldn't get pregnant) and liked school. The truth is, the more schooling I've had, the dumber I feel. The more I know, the more I realize that I don't know. I'm pretty positive that this moment when my dissertation chair tried to convince me to throw in the towel and stop pursuing my doctorate was the most stupid that I have felt since Kindergarten.
Over the next few months, I poured over a new research area in my field, Neo-Victorian Studies, and came up with an idea that felt brilliant to me. The picture above is one that I took with all of the novels I was reading. I was hopeful that I had found the perfect topic and carefully crafted a proposal. I sent Dr. Mays my new proposal, and she proceeded to ignore me for a full month. After multiple follow-up emails and screened calls, I realized that I had been dumped. Suddenly I realized that this professor I had idolized really just made me feel small and weak. Her exploiting and harping on every weakness didn't push me to be better--it crippled me with fear. Something about working with her made me want to apologize for who I am. She had even been subversively combative toward my LDS faith in requiring one class of mine to read an anti-Mormon novel, "A Study in Scarlet" by Arthur Conan Doyle, and then having a student present on Joseph Smith being a con-man.
Suddenly...and not with the flair of sour grapes that you might imagine...I realized that even though this professor had given up on me and didn't want to work with me, I didn't want to work with her either. Despite her considerable academic renown as a scholar and her great intellectual mind, she was not a good mentor for me. I began to search for a few chair, but Dr. Mays began to block me. A few professors who initially showed interest in working with me ended up talking with her and then refusing to work with me.
Thus a new sort of crisis ensued for me. I felt like I was in the twilight zone. I had never thought of myself as difficult to work with. I work hard, am punctual, and take criticism in stride. I have always felt likable and relatable in a field of many introverted literature-lovers, but all of the sudden I felt like a total social pariah. I started to despair and seriously wondered if I would be able to continue. Was all of my hard work--all of the years of classes and the difficult comprehensive exams I had taken--for naught?
During this super stressful time, I remember Shaye sweetly reassuring me: "Babe, just do all that you can do. If nothing works out, we will be okay." Despite the great investment we've made in my education, he has remained comforting and non-pressuring through it all, which has been amazing.
By the grace of God, it all has worked out. I am still not totally out of the woods yet, but I have a new dissertation chair, Dr. Erwin. This professor respects me and my point of view. He has guided me as a kind friend would, and in his enabling and encouraging mentorship, my dissertation--on the first topic that I chose some 2.5 years ago--has flourished. I am still chipping away at this huge project and will have many mountains to climb in this challenge, but I am progressing. I believe I will have those 3 little initials behind my name this fall.
It's been amazing to see Heavenly Father's hand in this academic work. I'm not sure why it has been His plan for me to get my Doctorate--I mean, does he really care about classic British literature as I do?--but I have seen His help so much since this day of failure. My failure and the rejection I faced was a pretty serious intellectual crisis for me, but I felt the Lord's loving guidance in reassuring me that He has always had a plan for me and that if I relied on Him that He would guide my path and help me.
Now, as I squeeze in whatever writing time I can, I feel His love and help. I'm so grateful for this. I'm grateful for His grace and help, and the knowledge that it is okay to fail and it is okay to feel stupid. To not feel this way is to not be human. Now, I continue on my path humbled and anxiously engaged in literary analysis that no one but my committee will ever read!
As I am catching up on this blog, I am thinking back on just a year ago with considerable nostalgia. One thing that I think is funny about life is how when things change, it's so easy to look back on little difference, even a short time ago, and remember life as simple. I most definitely was just as stressed out a year ago as I am now, but when I remember that time, I mostly remember the beautiful moments. I'm sure when I look back on this time now a year into the future, I'll remember things differently than they really were too.
Here are some highlights from Spring 2014:
It seems like right around the time that I weaned Emme, her little personality took off majorly. One thing she started doing, to my intense delight, was that she began calling books, "happy" because of a "You are my Sunshine" book my mom had. I could often catch her singing to herself with a book in her hands. Made me so happy.
In December of 2013 we moved from our Tonaquint Home into a rental in Bloomington. We were grateful to Shaye's sister for allowing us to stay in their rental when we weren't entirely sure when we would be moving out, as we didn't know exactly when our home would be completed. This place, however, had a lot that needed repair. Regardless of these frustrations, however, I ADORED the room Emme slept in because it had an entire wall of complete glass. Once I realized that Emme wasn't going to fall out of the room, I found that the room had perfect light for taking pictures. I took these photos in my very favorite outfit of hers. You can see the crazy sweetness that she dished out for me.
Rock hunting at Nana's. This became a serious obsession for a few months.
Emme's obsession with shoes also began during this time. I ordered these gold jelly shoes online and when I opened the package, Emme gasped with excitement. She danced around the house in them before bedtime and wore these shoes a ton for the next few months until she grew out of them.
Playing dress up with Auntie Steph. I loved seeing Emme start to make believe during this time. She also started to realize her own sense of humor and ability to entertain others.
Too often I felt cooped up in the rental during this time, but this day we took a walk to the golf course near the condo and fed the duckies. Emme was more interested in eating it herself! :)
16 months old.
Just the apple of her mama's eye. This is when I really started to get camera happy and I haven't slowed down since. I'm not sure how many moms like me are out there (probably a lot!) but I just love how a photo can capture a moment and my baby's expression. In this photo, she had just learned to say "apple." Emme has always loved healthy foods, especially tomatoes, apples, and carrots. I lucked out there.
I know that I have been absent from blogging for a very long time. Other social media like Instagram makes it so easy to catalogue important moments quickly but I feel like you lose the back story a lot of times, so I've made a new goal to post at least once a month here. I'm glad to be back! :)
Truth be told, I have never had the best body image. Growing up, I took dance lessons for years, but I was never very good at it. I had a hard time moving past the debilitating fear that someone might not like what they see. I was always so caught up in my aesthetic value that it was hard to focus on all the wonderful things my body could do.
When we started trying to conceive, however, what my body could and could not do became an obsession. There was seemingly endless medical testing, all sorts of poking and prodding, daily temperature taking, not to mention all sorts of negative self-talk about why I feared I wasn't good enough to become a mother. After 5 years of trying, I felt hopelessly lost in this struggle in which my body wouldn't align with my spirit. While my spirit longed for motherhood with everything in me, my body denied me this. Infertility took my body image issues to soaring heights. I couldn't understand why Heavenly Father would make me dysfunctional in this way, if he had commanded me to be fruitful and multiply. I felt that my infertility was a contradiction to everything my heart wanted to be.
Shaye took this right after our embryo transfer for IVF. I'm sure I was praying "please work!!" while I listened to relaxing music after the stressful ordeal...and to my eternal gratitude, it did!!
When I became pregnant with Emme, at first I was so terrified that something uncontrollable within me would take my precious baby from me. The fertility treatments that brought her to us were in no way serene or peaceful, and we had felt so much disappointment throughout our journey. But as she began to grow within me, these fears slowly died away and I became more and more aware of the sacredness and beauty of my body. These feelings in no way came from any extrinsic praise. I knew, in fact, that I was slipping further from society's ideals as I gained weight, but it didn't matter. Being a vessel of life changed my body image forever.
Once Emme was born, another chapter of healing began for me. Breastfeeding, it turns out, has been the most therapeutic thing for my body image ever. Don't get me wrong, for the first month or so, breastfeeding was agonizing. Honestly, I think I was in pain around the clock. I pushed through the pain knowing that breastfeeding would be a wonderful gift for Emme and would also be better than any medicine for my endometriosis, and I am so glad that I did push through.
Breastfeeding Emme has probably been the most calming and peaceful thing I've experienced in my whole life. I think it's taken me so long to wean her just because I have come to cherish that time with her so much.
I hope I never forget the sheer pleasure of holding her close to me, skin to skin. Her beautiful hazel eyes in a relaxed, grateful gaze. Her sweet little hands caressing my neck as I nurse her. Her slight smile as I coo at her as she drinks. The way that she reaches for me again and again, trusting that I can provide all that she needs. In these moments, I have been so grateful for all the wonderful things my body can do and how it can serve others.
If I never have this experience again, I want to remember the intense joy that this experience has brought me. If the Lord should bless me so much as to have one more child or many more, I will be so grateful to have been able to serve and nurture them all.
This is the lesson that I want to keep on learning my whole life: I am not only my body. What others see is just the shell of me and is only a part of who I am. It is important for me to care for myself and make my health a priority because my body is a tool to serve and nurture others, not because I am an object to be looked upon or praised.
I am infinitely grateful for the opportunity I have had to do this as a mother--both in the unfathomable gift of giving Emme life and in the hundreds of tasks that I perform in her behalf daily. What a wonderful gift it is to be a woman! We have the challenge of putting our families before ourselves and nurturing and loving them above all else in this world, but with that comes immense joy!
By the way, as much as I love a pretty, edited picture. This is what motherhood really looks like around here--oh, about 95% of the time.
Well, it's official! We closed on the sale of our home on Tuesday! It was such a quick deal that we have barely had time to catch our breath. We got a cash offer on the home December 1 and the people wanted to be in by Dec 17. It was such an amazing blessing to sell our home and to receive what we feel like was an excellent offer. We are now thrilled to move forward in building our new home in The Knolls in the Little Valley area, but I have definitely been very nostalgic thinking about all the people in our ward that we will miss! We have made so many wonderful friends in our neighborhood! (Southgate 2nd friends, we will still be going to our ward for 5 or 6 more months, though.)
I was also very nostalgic about leaving our home itself. Here are some things that I will always remember. (I apologize for the low image quality. I've been begging our realtor to send us higher quality photos.)
The kitchen where I learned to really cook.
The office where I taught piano lessons and Shaye edited videos and composed music.
Our spare bedroom turned craft room where I really learned how to sew.
Our bedroom, in which lots of late-night discussions took place. Lots of thoughtful prayer and lots of decision-making happened in this room.
Our great room where we watched (way too much) TV and I sat and graded seemingly endless papers on that couch. I went into labor with Emme in this room on Election Night. :)
These hallways where I stumbled around like a zombie to go get Emme in the night.
Emme's room...this has to be the most special room in the house for me. One Mother's Day during our 5 year battle with infertility, my mom challenged me to set up a nursery. She bought the furniture for me for my next few years of birthday and Christmas, and I went to decorating it. It became a symbol of hope for me, even though it remained empty for 3 years after I set it up. I would often go and just sit in there to remind myself that there would be a happy ending to our struggle. Later, during my pregnancy with Emme, I found great joy in finishing every detail. It has truly been miraculous for me to here her laughter fill this room. I hope to recreate the joyfulness and peace of this room in our new home.
Now we have moved into a rental in Bloomington for awhile. (Not gonna lie, the move itself was a pretty rough for me! Thank goodness to our family and friends who stepped in to help after my brain was fried!) We haven't even broken ground for our house yet, so we'll definitely be here for awhile. Here is a sneak peak of the elevation drawing for our home. We are so excited we can hardly stand it!
We are hoping that the final look is a lot like this:
So much to be thankful for! In the last year or so since the birth of Emme, we honestly haven't had enough room to receive the blessings the Lord has bestowed on us. We are hoping that our home will be completed in May or June.Wish us luck during this crazy process!! I'll definitely be keeping you posted!
This first year with Emme has really been more magical and
sweet than I could have ever hoped. She has truly changed so much, I sometimes
can’t believe it. She is talking a little and often understands what I’m saying
to her. She says “Dada,” “Mama,” “doggie,” “bye bye,” “pretty,” “honey,”
“baby,” “hi,” “what’s that?” “yeah,” and “Nana”.
This kid has got spunk, man! Church has started to become
totally hilarious. We don’t get a thing out of it! She runs around and screams
and bulldozes other kids over. She’s also taken to throwing tantrums lately
when she doesn’t get her way. I’m not sure how to respond to that yet. It’s
been a different phase. Even though she is still so darn cute, she does do kind
of bratty toddler things sometimes. Just part of the deal, I guess.
Emme has this big cheesy grin that she gives to strangers.
It’s easy to see that it’s not the most sincere of expressions, but people
really get a kick out of her. In fact, when she cheeses at someone and they
don’t notice, she looks at them like they’re ridiculous.
Emmeline is adorable when she entertains herself. Sometimes
she walks around the house, playing with random stuff. She can also be
terrifyingly destructive! She makes so many messes. She throws her sippy cup,
feeds the dogs, pulls all kind of stuff out of cabinets and drawers. You name
it!
Emme also does adorable things like sing along to songs and
give kisses. When she sees her dad or my parents in a public place, she gets so
excited. It’s like she is thrilled that we can all get together outside of our
houses.
Sleeping has gotten marginally better lately. Emme seems to
be sleeping through the night-ish. She basically wakes up once or twice most
nights. She is still going strong with nursing. I probably nurse her 3 times a
day. I am just dreading weaning her. We’ve got a system down. I also know that
we need to transition, though...especially now that she tries to rip my shirt off when she's hungry. Not exactly socially acceptable in a public place!
Nursing has been a tremendous blessing as it has kept my
endometriosis at bay and has been a good natural birth control. Obviously we
want to have baby #2 at some point, though, so weaning will need to commence
here in the next few months.
Emme’s birthday party was such a crack up. We had just a few
family members over and had dinner and cake (Homemade Vanilla Cake with
Pomegranate Frosting and Blackberry Cream Filling). Emme loved it and then she
stayed up late playing with her presents.
Life is really just too magical and wonderful to put into
words. Couldn’t be more grateful!
Hello, it's me again...you might have thought I died in childbirth with how I've been (not) updating this blog! But no, life is actually wonderful. More than wonderful, actually. I am now back to blogging after a looooong hiatus. Here is Emmeline's birth story as I wrote it a few days after her birth (11/7/2012). (This is extremely long, so if you want the short version, just watch this AMAZING video Shaye made!)
As my due date approached, I began to feel a great sense of
urgency, like my time was running out. It’s strange looking back now, because
my priorities seemed all wrong. I was so concerned with getting as much of my
school work done as possible before our little darling’s arrival, and I knew
that things would be much more difficult to attend to once she came. The day
before I had Emme, I had a list of last minute errands to run, and I knew it was the last list of
essentials I had to complete before the baby was born. My sister texted me and
wanted to go to lunch, but I told her it was all business for me that day. I
had to get things done. Then, when I was at Walmart, all of the sudden I
started to feel really awful, like a had a really bad flu virus.
As soon as I got home, I laid down and stayed that way for
the rest of the night. I had a feeling that something was up because I’d never
had such odd stomach cramps like that. The fact that all this was
happening on election night is a bit humorous to me now. Perhaps all the
excitement threw me into labor. Shaye started watching the election returns and
I groaned each time a swing state broke for Obama. At about 8:00 pm I went on
a cleaning rampage, even with as awful as I felt. I marched around the house in
a daze, unable to concentrate enough to do anything productive and crying to
myself that our house wasn’t clean enough to bring a new baby home (too late!).
About 9:00 I started to notice that I was having pretty
regular contractions, about 2.5-5 minutes apart. I was really confused at first
because they had started so close together. I knew that dehydration could start
labor so I’d been drinking tons, but I still felt thirsty no matter what. After
my contractions had been going for a good hour and a half I told Shaye he had
to get off from playing X-box because I might be in labor. I have to admit that
part of me wondered if I was being dramatic—could labor really start this
quickly? I called my mom and dad and they agreed that it was worth checking in
to see what was up, and so we brought our two little doggies over to their
house. By the time we got to my parents, my contractions had gone from rather
uncomfortable to a bit painful and so I thought I must be progressing.
We checked into the hospital about 11:30 pm. By then we knew
which way the election had swung and so both of us (and especially Shaye) were
in a weird mixture of excitement, bitter disappointment (over the election),
and a bit of confusion over the whole labor process. They got us checked in and
the nurses were amazing,--so kind and thoughtful. They waited patiently each
time a contraction came on. My first nurse checked me at 11:53 and I was barely
at a 3. This was the first moment that I was pretty darn sure I would want to
epidural. The pains were still pretty bearable as long as I breathed through
them. The pretty blonde nurse told me that they wanted to watch me for an hour
and as long as I continued to dilate, they would keep me. Between this hour, my
contractions got worse and worse. After a little while, I started to feel
really awful and I told Shaye to grab the trash can. In it I threw up the only
snack I’d had since breakfast. I hardly ever throw up, and so I was pretty sure
that this was a sign of transitioning into more active labor.
Sure enough, my contractions started to get more intense.
When my nurse asked me, in the middle of a contraction, if I was wanting the
epidural, I heard myself answer "yes" before I had even realized it. As I’d labored
up until this point I had realized that I had a clear choice to make. I knew
that I could go natural and that it would likely be a spiritual and very difficult
experience, or I could opt for a more peaceful, medicated birth. The second
just felt like the right choice for me.
When the nurse checked me again, she saw that I was a 4.5
and told me that I was staying at that hospital and having a baby! I was kind
of in disbelief. Shaye kept saying how different labor was from how he had
pictured; there was so much waiting. We called my mom and at this point and she
and my sister arrived just as they transferred me into another room where they
could give me an epidural. This room was different from the room I’d initially
been checked into, which was designed for natural birth. The first room had zen-like
green walls and peaceful artwork; the epidural room had stark white walls and
more of a sterile feeling. By now I was also shaking a whole lot, and theses
shakes continued on for quite awhile. People kept asking if I was cold, but I
think it was just the adrenaline and excitement.
While walking to the new room, I had 3 strong contractions, and by
now it was starting to reach my pain threshold. For some reason the
contractions standing up were most difficult, I handled them much better
sitting Indian style on the bed. In my new room I had a new nurse, Melissa. She
had little brown hair pulled back and wide gray eyes. She was so calming and
honestly made the whole birthing process so much better. When my contractions
got painful, she would push on my knees or my lower back to ease the pain. It
made a HUGE difference and basically cut my pain in half.
Pain with labor was one of the most spiritual things I had
ever experienced. I had read a mom describe labor as the most beautiful pain
she had ever felt, and that’s how it was to me. The pain of the contractions
flooded my whole body, but I felt my mind float above it all. Heavenly Father
immensely blessed me to have such a positive birth experience, and I felt that
was especially true as I was laboring before the epidural.
When they checked me
again only an hour later I was a six and a half and the pain was definitely
worse. I just focused on the Lamaze breathing, though, and felt the love of my
nurse and the kindness in her wide eyes as I breathed. My mom and Stephanie were
there stroking my back and my hair, and I could see Shaye’s calming face at my
side, so concerned but peaceful and reassuring.
When my nurse saw that I was a six and a half, I was shocked
when she said that my epidural would come in the next half hour or so. I had
heard so many situations when moms had to wait and wait, and so it was
wonderful news. Dr. Fayre was in about a half hour later and gave me my
epidural while I breathed through 3 contractions. I was so proud that I could
sit perfectly still despite the pain. I felt so out of my body through the
experience, and I think a lot of this was due to some careful studying I had done
of hypnobirthing techniques when I was unsure of whether I wanted to go natural
or not. Throughout my pregnancy I had trained myself to relax when I felt pain
and I did this throughout the birth and thought of the pain as a beautiful threshold
I was crossing through to reach Emme. I almost felt guilty accepting the
epidural because I knew beyond a doubt that I could handle the pain, but the
question of how long my labor could last and the uncertainty of how pushing
would feel was enough to turn me to modern medicine.
The epidural was wonderful. It was perfect because I could
feel all the pressure of my contractions but none of the pain. I expected to
feel totally disconnected to my body, but instead I felt very attuned. Once the
epidural kicked in, everything slowed way down. By then it was about 2:30 or so
and I sent my mom and sister home because I thought it would be awhile. Shaye
got a little sleep, but I didn’t sleep a wink. It felt like every Christmas Eve
of my life rolled into one. I stared at the monitor in the darkness and thought
about all that we had gone through to get to this point. All of the
heartbreaking negative pregnancy tests, all of the lonely moments when I felt a
world away from the life I really wanted, all of the planning and hoping that
we were never sure could be fully rewarded.
I laid there trying to memorize the feeling of being
pregnant because I wasn’t sure if I’d ever experience that unfathomable
blessing again. I tried to imagine that fullness of a tight womb right below my
heart and the delicious feeling of the baby’s kicks and turns and hiccups. I
tried to memorize the way I felt about my body. Sure, I’d felt self-conscious
about gaining weight, but I’d never felt so beautiful or alive to be creating
life within me. All of the anger and betrayal I had felt with my body had been
regained through my pregnancy and even my labor up until that point.
I prayed
and talked with my loved ones that I knew were there on the other side of the
veil. I tried to enjoy each passing moment and tried to imagine the moment of
meeting Emme. I feel sheepish saying this now, but I even had the strange fear
creep up that she would come out a boy. Not that I wouldn’t love a boy just as
much, but that we would have nothing to dress him in if it were a boy. These
precious last few hours of my labor were a full-circle moment for me. So
special and intimate. I could feel the thin-veil in that room. It was a feel
quite similar to when I am in the temple. I felt so at home and so fearless and
loved.
A few disconcerting things happened as my labor progressed.
The baby slept a little too much, as is common with the epidural, and so I had
to keep shifting side to side and wear an oxygen mask; the latter really did
the trick and perked her right up, thank goodness! Before long, Melissa checked
me again and saw that I was at a 9.5 and that my water still hadn’t broken.
They laughed at how much the sack was bulging. By then it was 5:00 am or so and we
called my mom and she was there just as Dr. Lunt arrived and broke my water. In
no time at all, the baby had crowned and I was ready to push.
When all of the delivery nurses came in, I was a bit
shocked. This was it! It just got real for me! As I began pushing, I was surprised
at how exhausting it was although I felt no pain. I felt confused at how to do
what they were asking; it honestly didn’t feel very instinctive to me. I felt
pressure, but not a crazy urge to push like I expected. When I did push, the
nurses offered all kinds of confusing metaphors, but through trial and error, I
felt like I got the hang of it by contraction 3. By the 5th
contraction, she was nearly out and I reached down to touch her sweet head. I
was amazed at how warm and soft it was. I contracted again, but Dr. Lunt wasn’t
quite in position, so I didn’t push, with my next contraction, the baby slid
right out. All I gave was a tiny push and she was here!
Dr. Lunt held up Emme and she made a tiny hiccup sound. They
agitated her for a moment and then I heard the most beautiful cry ever. I soon
forgot, however, that she had cried at all because she immediately became very
quiet. They put her on my chest immediately as they waited for the cord to stop
pulsing. Emme was so alert from the start and looked all around the room. They
lifted her for a moment again and Shaye cut the cord. When they put her back
down on my chest, she stared at me with her beautiful dark eyes in such a knowing
way. She was so calm. Her expression was if to say, “I’m here, mom! I told you
I would come.” My whole life changed so quickly. I felt this indescribable
connection with her almost instantly. My spirit knew hers, and more than that,
she knew I was her mom. I sobbed and sobbed. I just couldn’t believe she was
real and that our miracle had really happened.
After a few minutes, the sweet nurses cleaned Emme up a bit
and we had skin-to-skin. She was so soft and warm and a bit wet, and so relaxed
against me. Every time I talked, those in the room said she tried to look up at
me. Because she was nestled right under my chin, I couldn’t see for myself.
Soon I could hear the voices of my dad, Stephanie, and Jeffrey in the hallway.
It took Dr. Lunt a good 20 minutes to stitch me up and Emme got a nice bath.
She didn’t make a peep that whole time nor for several more hours. Once I was
all stitched up, my family came into see her and my dad bawled like a baby when
he saw Emme.
Shaye stayed a bit aloof with his camera at first. But he
kept kissing my forehead and lips. He didn’t have to be right there. I could
feel the connection that was now our family. He marveled at our daughter, but he also respected the sacred space of mother and daughter.
Soon we left that magical room and the nurses helped remove
the epidural catheter and prepare me for recovery. Every single nurse was
honestly so kind. I joked several times that I felt like I was at a day spa. I
felt the power of modern medicine through this all. I couldn’t have asked for
better care.
Once we were in our room, I spent every moment I could
drinking in all of Emme’s little details. Her beautiful thick head or hair, her
delicate little eyelashes and eyebrows, her darling button nose, and her sweet
Gerber baby lips. I was in a total daze. The nurses offered me tons of
information and I think I remembered a tenth of it. We had scads of visitors
and it was wonderful to share our angel with each new family member who
arrived. I think that first day my mom and dad both came 3 times each and my
siblings came a ton too. My grandma stood and rocked Emme for a good hour while
Shaye went and grabbed lunch. Even though I was starting to really feel those
stitches, I was on cloud 9.
That night came around and Emme was so good. I could hear
babies screaming down the hall and she didn’t make a peep all night. I nursed
here 3 or 4 times and she snuggled in my arms. It was very serene. I felt bad
for Shaye in those terrible cots they have. I think it was hard for him to
enjoy the first day with Emme just because he was so terribly uncomfortable. He
held her as much as I would let him, and she would just stare up at her daddy.
So sweet!
The hospital stay was really pretty comfortable for us. The
nurses were so sweet about helping me and cleaning up after me. The food was
reasonably good, though I was hardly interested in eating at all. The nurses
fussed over Emme and whenever they took her out to test her, I felt really
comfortable with them having her.
When it came time to go home, I dressed her in the same
outfit my mom had taken me home in. It was such a sweet moment. Emme looked so
darling in the little dress and the bonnet and booties I had crocheted for her.
I couldn’t believe we were taking home our little miracle. It took us quite a
while to check out. We heard that if we paid for Emme before we checked out
that we would receive a huge discount. What would have cost us $4k only cost us
$1,100—amazing!
I sat with the baby in the back seat and watched her little
face. It was clear that she didn’t mind her car seat and she didn’t mind the
car either. Just as we were leaving, Stephanie called to ask where our broom
was, and told us that she had been cleaning our house. We were so touched! When we drove down to the house passed the school, I could see pink
streamers on our back wall on the corner. Steph greeted us and there was a beautiful “It’s
a Girl!” sign and streamers all over inside. I started blubbering when I saw
it, and then laughed, realizing how hormonal I was.
That first day, orienting myself with the baby felt pretty
second nature. I was amazed at the sacred feeling that immediately filled our
home. It is a purity I’ve never quite known before, and something that I’m
quite determined to preserve as well as I can. We are so blessed, it’s crazy!
- Shaye is building his new business-- Call IQ. He's doing awesome! - Amanda is earning her Ph.D. in British and American Lit at UNLV. - We REALLY want to have kids...hopefully soon! - We hope to take a trip to Europe.
Need to finish?? I insisted that I always finished what I started.
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