So, I promise to come back to my makeup blog later today, I just wanted to let you all know about a fun opportunity that I have! I was selected as a participant to receive a "Vox Box". A "Vox Box" is a box full of items from companies who want you to try out their items and give them feedback as part of their market research. I was selected to receive the "Love Box" and there wasn't any information on what items are coming- so it's a great surprise! I am supposed to receive it next Wednesday or Thursday so I will keep you guys posted!
Second of all, I wanted to clue you in on a couple of my new favorite websites!! I ordered some Simple brand shoes for Josh that retail for $75 a pair, for $14.99 at 6PM.com. They have shoes for the whole family and clothes. Their shipping is free too!! The other one I am obsessed with right now is Hautelook.com. I LOVE their beauty section. They will have expensive lines like Stila, Urban Decay and Crown Brush for over 50% off!! Their offers change everyday- so its always something new. The other one that I am waiting on but that I am obsessed with is HauteFox.com. Its for us plussies who want something edgy, sexy and fun. I ordered two shirts for $9.99 a piece!! I am waiting on the package to arrive so I will let you know what the quality is once I receive my package.
OK, I'm just so excited about some fun online shopping and who doesn't love a good deal?! Anyway- I shall return later today with a blush, bronzer and contouring piece! Thanks ladies!!
Thursday, February 23, 2012
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
"Oh she died? Well she deserved it."
OK, So I am totally going to go there. I am opening a can of worms and I am somewhat scared for the backlash. I know I have been doing a carefree fun makeup blog but I have really been thinking about this for a while and felt it necessary to touch on it. Whitney Houston just passed away, before that it was Amy Winehouse, Heath Ledger, Anna Nicole Smith, River Phoenix, Elivs Presley, Marilyn Monroe and Judy Garland. They all allegedly passed away from addiction. Some deaths were intentional, some were not. We can never be sure because, we aren't them.
I bring this up because there has been quite a few posts on social media like facebook and twitter with messages that basically shame the nation for grieving for Whitney Houston's death. "How dare a state or city put a flag at half mass for her?" "Why are people shocked, she was a crack head?" "It's all her ex's fault anyway for getting her hooked on drugs". These statements have made me really sad. When did we become so calloused that the loss of a human life was brushed off because they lost the battle with a horrible disease?
I know a lot of people who also do not believe that addiction is a disease, that its just poor choices. I can tell you first hand as a person who has looked addiction straight in the face- that statement is really false. If a person was healthy in their mind, would they put their life in danger? If a person was healthy, would they take their own life to escape the demons they are battling? If a person was healthy, would they steal and hurt and lie to others, bankrupt themselves, prostitute or worse for their drug of choice? The answer is no. When you are battling addiction and making horrible decisions, addiction is truly running the show.
Now, before I get clobbered and misunderstood, please understand that I am not justifying or saying that its ok for people to go and do whatever they want just because they are dealing with addiction. I am just saying that it is obvious that they are not healthy or they wouldn't be putting themselves or those around them in danger in the first place.
I think that its important to remember that people are more than just their problems too. These celebrities that passed away were someones child, parent, sibling or spouse. Those that are left are grieving the loss of their family member. It makes sad to think that their family members have to hear horrible and derogatory remarks while trying to cope and heal. I guess what I am saying is I wish there was more compassion from people. Everyone has problems and I for one am grateful that my problems are mine. Have a little bit of compassion and understanding and respect for others- even if you don't understand their choices.
OK, I am stepping off my soap box once again. Thanks for "going there" with me :)
I bring this up because there has been quite a few posts on social media like facebook and twitter with messages that basically shame the nation for grieving for Whitney Houston's death. "How dare a state or city put a flag at half mass for her?" "Why are people shocked, she was a crack head?" "It's all her ex's fault anyway for getting her hooked on drugs". These statements have made me really sad. When did we become so calloused that the loss of a human life was brushed off because they lost the battle with a horrible disease?
I know a lot of people who also do not believe that addiction is a disease, that its just poor choices. I can tell you first hand as a person who has looked addiction straight in the face- that statement is really false. If a person was healthy in their mind, would they put their life in danger? If a person was healthy, would they take their own life to escape the demons they are battling? If a person was healthy, would they steal and hurt and lie to others, bankrupt themselves, prostitute or worse for their drug of choice? The answer is no. When you are battling addiction and making horrible decisions, addiction is truly running the show.
Now, before I get clobbered and misunderstood, please understand that I am not justifying or saying that its ok for people to go and do whatever they want just because they are dealing with addiction. I am just saying that it is obvious that they are not healthy or they wouldn't be putting themselves or those around them in danger in the first place.
I think that its important to remember that people are more than just their problems too. These celebrities that passed away were someones child, parent, sibling or spouse. Those that are left are grieving the loss of their family member. It makes sad to think that their family members have to hear horrible and derogatory remarks while trying to cope and heal. I guess what I am saying is I wish there was more compassion from people. Everyone has problems and I for one am grateful that my problems are mine. Have a little bit of compassion and understanding and respect for others- even if you don't understand their choices.
OK, I am stepping off my soap box once again. Thanks for "going there" with me :)
Friday, February 10, 2012
Love never fades
So I am thrilled and scared to death to write this post. This is something life altering and remarkable but that I have been private about. This subject is beyond near and dear to my heart and I am scared that posting this may change things but I want to document every tiny emotion so I have it always with me. Let me preface all of this with the fact that I just wrote that my blog had become an online journal of sorts. I was given a blessing (a patriarchal one for my LDS friends) when I was 14 that told me to journal my life not only for my posterity but for myself. I am not a good diary keeper and I am not exactly consistent with my blogging but little did I know that this tiny little blog with 9 followers would forever change my life for the better.
Let me start from the beginning. I am adopted. I was placed through LDS family services when I was two months old in the loving arms of my parents, Gerald and Laurel Macdonald. I cant think of a time when I didn't know that I was adopted. My parents told me from the time I was an infant the story of the loving mother who made my body and gave to to my parents to raise me. I was adopted back in the 80's where everything was closed and adoption records were sealed. The details of how I came to be were very sketchy but the only thing that I was told was that my birth mother was a return missionary of the LDS church, she attended BYU and that she made a mistake. That part was always a little hard for me. I grew up with the unspoken belief that I was a mistake. It wasn't until I was a mother myself that I could process through and completely be at peace with the choice of wording.
I grew up in a home with two other adopted siblings. I also had a few friends who were adopted. I always felt different from them because I was never angry. I didn't grow up being angry with a mythical mother figure who discarded me or gave me away. I have always been at peace and have always felt that I was where I was supposed to be. Make no mistake- I was always curious who this woman was. Did she think of me? Did she know anything about me? Did she want to know me? I was always curious but I also knew that if I were to pursue the dream of seeking her out that in a way it would devastate my parents and I never wanted to disappoint them. I knew from a very early age that if I were ever to find my birth parents, I would have to wait until after my parents passed away. Unfortunately, the day where my parents passed away came much, much earlier that I ever imagined it would. My father passed away from complications of cancer in 1998 and my mother died from complications after an accident in 2004.
A year or so after my mother passed away I made the decision that it was time for me to seek out my birth mother. I did a lot of investigating through hospital records, just trying to find a name. I contacted the agency I was adopted through looking for any information. I went as far as to try to hire a private investigator to locate my birth parents. After an interview, I was told that because of the adoption laws back then, it was going to take a court injunction to have my records opened and that the likeliness of a judge granting it was slim to none unless it was a life threatening medical reason. He told me that the best bet I had at this point was to go online to some of the various adoptee registries and put my information out there. That way, if they were looking for me, they could find me. I was told that it was a total needle in a haystack situation as there are hundreds and hundreds of places to register.
Eight years passed along with no thought of the registry and really no hope that my dreams would come to fruition. I went through a lot of therapy in those years and I came to an amazing place within myself where I feel complete and whole. I wasn't looking for anyone else to fill a void for me or complete me.
So cut to Thursday February 9th at 3:57 PM. I had just gotten Sophie from school, got the kids a snack and sat down to nurse Lyza when my phone rang. I cant explain in words what happened to me. My hands went numb and I felt like I needed to answer the phone. I didn't know the number but I recognized that it was a Colorado phone number. I fought myself and finally I decided to let the answering machine get it. I figured if someone wanted to really get a hold of me- they could leave a message. The message transcribed was- "Hi this is Lynn and Im looking for Kristen Parsons. My number is XXXXXXXX and I live in Denver, Colorado and I would like to talk to Kristen." I dont know how- but I knew it was my mother. Shaking, I picked up my phone and redialed the phone number. Lynn answered the phone and I told her that I am Kristen and that I missed a phone call from her. Her response was: I dont know how to say this....(long pause) and before she could say anything else- I blurted out- "are you my mother?" She responded that she thought that she was.
She asked me my birthday and asked if I was adopted through LDS family services. I said yes, yes, yes and wept. All I could say over and over and over was- Oh my God. Oh my God. She started out with explaining how a day hasn't gone by without thinking and loving me. She explained her reasons for giving me up for adoption and wanted to make it clear that she was not a teenage floosie and told me the story of how I came to be (which is extreamly private and I am not willing to post here.) It matched ver batum the story I was told from the time I was young.
We sat and talked for over two hours. She explained that she had found me through that needle in a haystack registry. SUPER long story shorter- she found my blog. She found my online journal and was able to read it and learn about me. She was able to see a picture of me and knew without a doubt that I was hers. I cant really tell you the specifics of our conversation because I was in shock and not really with it. I learned that I have three siblings. I want to give them the respect of not opening them up to my online world so I will not go into detail about them. I will say that I found them on facebook and could not stop looking through pictures. I look like my mom. A LOT. I was shocked because I have never looked like anyone- ever! My children were the first genetic relatives that I have ever known.
I am still in a state of shock, amazement, gratitude and overwhelmingly- LOVE. My mother wrote the words "love never fades" on her facebook status. Truer words have never been spoken. I am completely overwhelmed right now with all of the emotions and I am trying to process and digest all of this. I found out a few years ago from my Aunt that my mother and her spoke before she passed away about the desire for me to find my birth mother. I truly believe that she facilitated this from the other side. Miracles do happen and prayers really are answered. I look forward to the future and I look forward to getting to know the woman who brought me into this world. I look forward to my family expanding and for my children to get to know her.
The one thing that I ask, beg and plea is that my friends and more importantly, my family can give me the respect and space to get through this- and in my own way. I am overwhelmed trying to process this on my own, let along help others through this. I know those around me love and support me but I do need a bit of time to digest. Please, please, please be respectful of my birth family and their feelings- and please don't inform me how I need to feel and how to process. Thank you all for your love, respect and support.
Let me start from the beginning. I am adopted. I was placed through LDS family services when I was two months old in the loving arms of my parents, Gerald and Laurel Macdonald. I cant think of a time when I didn't know that I was adopted. My parents told me from the time I was an infant the story of the loving mother who made my body and gave to to my parents to raise me. I was adopted back in the 80's where everything was closed and adoption records were sealed. The details of how I came to be were very sketchy but the only thing that I was told was that my birth mother was a return missionary of the LDS church, she attended BYU and that she made a mistake. That part was always a little hard for me. I grew up with the unspoken belief that I was a mistake. It wasn't until I was a mother myself that I could process through and completely be at peace with the choice of wording.
I grew up in a home with two other adopted siblings. I also had a few friends who were adopted. I always felt different from them because I was never angry. I didn't grow up being angry with a mythical mother figure who discarded me or gave me away. I have always been at peace and have always felt that I was where I was supposed to be. Make no mistake- I was always curious who this woman was. Did she think of me? Did she know anything about me? Did she want to know me? I was always curious but I also knew that if I were to pursue the dream of seeking her out that in a way it would devastate my parents and I never wanted to disappoint them. I knew from a very early age that if I were ever to find my birth parents, I would have to wait until after my parents passed away. Unfortunately, the day where my parents passed away came much, much earlier that I ever imagined it would. My father passed away from complications of cancer in 1998 and my mother died from complications after an accident in 2004.
A year or so after my mother passed away I made the decision that it was time for me to seek out my birth mother. I did a lot of investigating through hospital records, just trying to find a name. I contacted the agency I was adopted through looking for any information. I went as far as to try to hire a private investigator to locate my birth parents. After an interview, I was told that because of the adoption laws back then, it was going to take a court injunction to have my records opened and that the likeliness of a judge granting it was slim to none unless it was a life threatening medical reason. He told me that the best bet I had at this point was to go online to some of the various adoptee registries and put my information out there. That way, if they were looking for me, they could find me. I was told that it was a total needle in a haystack situation as there are hundreds and hundreds of places to register.
Eight years passed along with no thought of the registry and really no hope that my dreams would come to fruition. I went through a lot of therapy in those years and I came to an amazing place within myself where I feel complete and whole. I wasn't looking for anyone else to fill a void for me or complete me.
So cut to Thursday February 9th at 3:57 PM. I had just gotten Sophie from school, got the kids a snack and sat down to nurse Lyza when my phone rang. I cant explain in words what happened to me. My hands went numb and I felt like I needed to answer the phone. I didn't know the number but I recognized that it was a Colorado phone number. I fought myself and finally I decided to let the answering machine get it. I figured if someone wanted to really get a hold of me- they could leave a message. The message transcribed was- "Hi this is Lynn and Im looking for Kristen Parsons. My number is XXXXXXXX and I live in Denver, Colorado and I would like to talk to Kristen." I dont know how- but I knew it was my mother. Shaking, I picked up my phone and redialed the phone number. Lynn answered the phone and I told her that I am Kristen and that I missed a phone call from her. Her response was: I dont know how to say this....(long pause) and before she could say anything else- I blurted out- "are you my mother?" She responded that she thought that she was.
She asked me my birthday and asked if I was adopted through LDS family services. I said yes, yes, yes and wept. All I could say over and over and over was- Oh my God. Oh my God. She started out with explaining how a day hasn't gone by without thinking and loving me. She explained her reasons for giving me up for adoption and wanted to make it clear that she was not a teenage floosie and told me the story of how I came to be (which is extreamly private and I am not willing to post here.) It matched ver batum the story I was told from the time I was young.
We sat and talked for over two hours. She explained that she had found me through that needle in a haystack registry. SUPER long story shorter- she found my blog. She found my online journal and was able to read it and learn about me. She was able to see a picture of me and knew without a doubt that I was hers. I cant really tell you the specifics of our conversation because I was in shock and not really with it. I learned that I have three siblings. I want to give them the respect of not opening them up to my online world so I will not go into detail about them. I will say that I found them on facebook and could not stop looking through pictures. I look like my mom. A LOT. I was shocked because I have never looked like anyone- ever! My children were the first genetic relatives that I have ever known.
I am still in a state of shock, amazement, gratitude and overwhelmingly- LOVE. My mother wrote the words "love never fades" on her facebook status. Truer words have never been spoken. I am completely overwhelmed right now with all of the emotions and I am trying to process and digest all of this. I found out a few years ago from my Aunt that my mother and her spoke before she passed away about the desire for me to find my birth mother. I truly believe that she facilitated this from the other side. Miracles do happen and prayers really are answered. I look forward to the future and I look forward to getting to know the woman who brought me into this world. I look forward to my family expanding and for my children to get to know her.
The one thing that I ask, beg and plea is that my friends and more importantly, my family can give me the respect and space to get through this- and in my own way. I am overwhelmed trying to process this on my own, let along help others through this. I know those around me love and support me but I do need a bit of time to digest. Please, please, please be respectful of my birth family and their feelings- and please don't inform me how I need to feel and how to process. Thank you all for your love, respect and support.
Monday, February 6, 2012
OK, I lied
OK, so my last post was all about setting goals and keeping on task on my blog- then the sun rose the next day. I just wanted to share a dumb little thing that I tried and LOVED! OK, so I bake. I enjoy baking for the most part but there are parts that make me bonkers. Like when a cake sticks to the pan- so you line it with parchment to keep it from sticking...but then you have to bust out the scissors and cut a circle out...and that's time consuming and for some reason- I SUCK at cutting something perfectly. SO- I was baking a 8'' coffee cake for my sweetheart and I vaguely remember someone saying that they ran out of parchment so they used coffee filters instead. Well- I flattened one out and low and behold- it fit perfectly for an 8'' round pan! No cutting! Not to mention my lovely coffee cake turned out like heaven! So do yourself a favor and pick up a pack of plain coffee filters to make your baking life easier :) xoxo- Kristen
Sunday, February 5, 2012
Focus, Focus, Focus
So I have been reading quite a few different blogs lately and I have had the chance to interact with a few fellow bloggers and they question has been asked more than a few times- what is YOUR blog about. I attempt to explain that its about my life. Its about things that I love, whether that is about my kids, funny stories, changes and events in our life- things that make my life easier-you know- LIFE. I get kind of funny looks and get told that its more of an online diary that I am keeping and not necessarily a BLOG that I am keeping. SO- I decided to FOCUS. Have one main theme and focus. I have touched on my birth stories, motherhood, etc. I have talked about my struggle with addiction and bi polar syndrome. I have touched on my struggle with weight loss and my journey after having a gastric bypass.
I am not one for New Years Resolutions. I think that its another way that we set ourselves up to fail and then beat ourselves up for. I believe in making goals- but keeping them attainable and realistic. I believe goals are there to be something that we work towards whether its's over the coarse of a few weeks, a few months, a few years, or a lifetime. SO let me share a few goals with you that are internal, monetary, external, spiritual and for my children.
My goals for the months of February and March:
I will start back in a fitness routine a minimum of three days a week. I will incorporate cardio and resistance training.
I will use my tax returns to eliminate the bulk of my credit card debt and make a plan to eliminate the remaining balance.
I will find a quiet moment for myself each day. If only for five minutes- and relish in them.
I will read one book cover to cover. (this one is a lot harder than one might think for me)
I will set aside time once a week to spend with each child and my husband to make sure that they know how special they are to me.
I will NOT cut my hair. ( I want bra strap length hair and I keep getting tempted to cut it )
I will update my blog with updates on how my goals are coming along.
Phew....that's a lot (for me). SO, I want feedback. Are you resolution people? Do you stick to them? What works for you and what doesn't work? What are your goals? Do you want to do an accountability thing where we all check in together? Make a goal "club"? Love you all and I cant wait to hear back from you! XOXO- Kristen
I am not one for New Years Resolutions. I think that its another way that we set ourselves up to fail and then beat ourselves up for. I believe in making goals- but keeping them attainable and realistic. I believe goals are there to be something that we work towards whether its's over the coarse of a few weeks, a few months, a few years, or a lifetime. SO let me share a few goals with you that are internal, monetary, external, spiritual and for my children.
My goals for the months of February and March:
I will start back in a fitness routine a minimum of three days a week. I will incorporate cardio and resistance training.
I will use my tax returns to eliminate the bulk of my credit card debt and make a plan to eliminate the remaining balance.
I will find a quiet moment for myself each day. If only for five minutes- and relish in them.
I will read one book cover to cover. (this one is a lot harder than one might think for me)
I will set aside time once a week to spend with each child and my husband to make sure that they know how special they are to me.
I will NOT cut my hair. ( I want bra strap length hair and I keep getting tempted to cut it )
I will update my blog with updates on how my goals are coming along.
Phew....that's a lot (for me). SO, I want feedback. Are you resolution people? Do you stick to them? What works for you and what doesn't work? What are your goals? Do you want to do an accountability thing where we all check in together? Make a goal "club"? Love you all and I cant wait to hear back from you! XOXO- Kristen
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
Third times a charm...
So one of my greatest friends that I have known over half my life found her way to my blog last night. She dropped me a message and mentioned that she knew that I had a newborn since I haven't blogged since her birth. To be honest- my brain hadn't even registered that fact until someone else brought it to my attention. I figured today was the best mommy day possible to attempt an entry. My two oldest are sick, my hubby is sick...so that means it just me and my sweet baby Lyza hanging out together.
Motherhood the third time around has been such a different experience. I don't know if its because I know that this is my last go around, because I have the experience of parenting other children or just because I am older (so much older) and dare I say wiser? I think back to my parenting style with my first and I get the biggest laugh thinking about it. I really thought that I could control EVERYTHING and I tried really damn hard too. I kept the log of how much she ate, when she ate, when she slept, when she sneezed...the whole tamale. I was so focused on trying to control everything that I lost perspective and I didn't have fun with it. I also dealt with A LOT of post pardom depression and it took about a year for me to get my wits about me again.
In the 18 months between the birth of Sophie and the conception of Duncan I had two really devastating miscarriages and I was really struggling with my weight. I ended up getting pregnant with Duncan in March and I was in shock that I was actually pregnant because I felt AWESOME! I never got sick, never gained weight, I had energy the whole time. It was by far my easiest pregnancy. I have blogged about the birth trauma that I experienced with his delivery so I wont rehash that.
So anyway- I have LOVED being a mommy to this little one. I love that I stay home full time. I love that I get to nurse on demand. I love everything about this little gal of mine. I am enjoying every laugh, every smile, every tender heart warming moment with her. Its so wonderful to feel complete with my family unit. I feel like now that we have her here we can move onto a different chapter of our lives. No more pregnancies to plan around. We can focus on raising the three wonderful chitlins we have been blessed with and start making plans for our future. Now how to convince Josh we need a bigger house....
Motherhood the third time around has been such a different experience. I don't know if its because I know that this is my last go around, because I have the experience of parenting other children or just because I am older (so much older) and dare I say wiser? I think back to my parenting style with my first and I get the biggest laugh thinking about it. I really thought that I could control EVERYTHING and I tried really damn hard too. I kept the log of how much she ate, when she ate, when she slept, when she sneezed...the whole tamale. I was so focused on trying to control everything that I lost perspective and I didn't have fun with it. I also dealt with A LOT of post pardom depression and it took about a year for me to get my wits about me again.
In the 18 months between the birth of Sophie and the conception of Duncan I had two really devastating miscarriages and I was really struggling with my weight. I ended up getting pregnant with Duncan in March and I was in shock that I was actually pregnant because I felt AWESOME! I never got sick, never gained weight, I had energy the whole time. It was by far my easiest pregnancy. I have blogged about the birth trauma that I experienced with his delivery so I wont rehash that.
So anyway- I have LOVED being a mommy to this little one. I love that I stay home full time. I love that I get to nurse on demand. I love everything about this little gal of mine. I am enjoying every laugh, every smile, every tender heart warming moment with her. Its so wonderful to feel complete with my family unit. I feel like now that we have her here we can move onto a different chapter of our lives. No more pregnancies to plan around. We can focus on raising the three wonderful chitlins we have been blessed with and start making plans for our future. Now how to convince Josh we need a bigger house....
Monday, September 5, 2011
Lyza's Birth Story
I should begin by saying that this little one has been a total and utter surprise since day one. We found out that we were pregnant the second week in December against all odds. We were in shock but thrilled. We had a pretty uneventful pregnancy with the exception of a few minor hiccups here and there. (Speaking of hiccups- this little one had them a dozen times a day from the day she was conceived!) I enjoyed her pregnancy so much and really cherished this one as it was our last experience with pregnancy. It brings tears to my eyes as I type thinking back on how much I loved this little monkey before we even got to meet.
My “due date” was August 26, 2011. I have a history of post date births and so we weren’t at all expecting her to arrive before September. As our due date approached, I began with pretty intense early labor. I had lots of contractions, I lost mucus plug and other signs that pointed in the direction that she was on her way starting at 38 weeks. Needless to say, she was NOT early. In fact, with all of the early labor I had begun to doubt that I would EVER know if I was really in labor. I would go hours in what felt like very real labor and then it would just stop. My family felt like I was crying wolf. I started to feel like it too. I was starting to feel guilty for “wasting” people’s time and I was getting a lot of crap from family and friends about it. I started joking that I wouldn’t bother to call anyone until I saw her head coming out....oh I will learn to laugh at that later on.
My 40 week appointment came and I opted to get a cervical check done since I had avoided them up to that point. I was already dilated to a 3+ and 80% effaced! I was in shock! I had NEVER progressed like that on my own with my other two babies. So we sat out the weekend thinking baby was eminent. I continued to have hours of contractions that never really got more intense and never got close together, so I ignored them. Josh went to work Monday, no baby. Tuesday I had little to no contracting and actually felt quite fine. I started getting concerned that I was getting closer to the ever present 42 week mark and that I was going to have to be induced. I just had to keep telling myself that Lyza would choose her birthday when she was good and ready.
Wednesday the 31st came early at 2:30 AM. I woke up to contractions that were quite uncomfortable and that I couldn’t sleep through. I got up and moved downstairs to try to find a better position. I basically sat up and breathed through contractions all morning all the while watching horrible infomercials. Josh left for work and I warned him I might be calling him to come home. Sure enough, a couple of hours after he left, I called him panicked that contractions were coming closer and more intense. He dropped everything and rushed home. Once he got home, I decided to try to relax and see if any change occurred. Contractions stayed the same and finally, after 12 hours of exhaustion, they started to pitter out. I called my midwife and she suggested sleep and to see if things progress from there. I went to bed around 11.
Like clockwork 2 AM rolled around on the first of September and I was having contractions again. These were different. They were only 30-45 seconds long but wow- they were intense. I tried to just keep as relaxed and calm as possible. I was able to pass out in between them and slept on and off until 8. I woke up with more bloody show and called my midwife. Contractions were not longer than 45 seconds and they were far from regular. They were anywhere from 6 to 12 minutes apart. They were intense but nothing earth shattering. Because things were not seeming to progress, I just told my midwife that I would plan on seeing her at 4 for my 41 week appointment. This was the first time that I had considered an intervention and wanted her to break my water. I actually told Josh that day that I knew that if my water just broke that she would fly right out because I could FEEL how far along progressed I was. I knew I was probably dilated to at least a 6 or a 7.
I made lunch for me and the family all the while having to take periodic breaks to breathe through contractions. They were inconvenient and uncomfortable but nothing excruciating. At 1 PM, I sat down and had three contractions in 10 minutes. I thought to myself – that’s weird and I don’t feel so hot. I went upstairs to use the bathroom thinking that I had just eaten too much or that the coffee I had with my breakfast was irritating my stomach. I sat down to do my business and had the mother of all contractions- in fact it was like having two at a time. I started to shake and wanted to crawl out of my skin. And then my water popped. I screamed for Josh to get the phone and start our phone tree of support and to get ready to head to the hospital. He made it through calling our doula and my sister before I started screaming. Josh tried to get me up and down stairs to the car. It was then that the thought hit me- oh crap- THIS IS TRANSITION. I just yelled at him to help me get my pants off because there was no way that I was going ANYWHERE.
He asked who to call next and I told him 911. I kind of went into this strange tranze at this point where I KNEW I had to calm down and relax but my body was running the show. It was at this moment while Josh was repeating our address for what felt like the 20th time that I felt her crown. I reached down and touched what I thought was her head. I screamed for Josh to look and he confirmed it. It took all of 8 steps round trip to grab a towel from the hallway and by the time he returned, Lyza’s head was completely out. I remember holding her head and thinking that this couldn’t really be happening. I was in a full squatting position on the floor- one arm on the toilet, the other on the side of the bathtub.
My body gave me a whopping 2 minute break before the next contraction started and without even pushing, her body shot out. Josh caught her in his arms mid air. He handed her to me since he was still on the phone with 911. Her cord was so short that I couldn’t really even pull her up to my chest. She was so calm- it was crazy. She coughed, and squinted and let out a little squeal and that was about it. She just sat and stared at us. So we sat and stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity and let the total shock of what had just happened wash over us. WE JUST HAD A BABY. ALONE. IN OUR BATHROOM. AT HOME?! All I remember saying is – “We did it! Just the two of us babe!”
Duncan peeked his head in the bathroom and asked if the baby was out. Oh yeah Duncan is home! I guess he had been trying to peek his head in to see what all the screaming was about and Josh tried to keep him out because of all the blood. I told him that he had a new sister. At that moment, the EMTs came in and Duncan ran to the top of the stairs yelling-“ I have a new sister, come and see!”
Somewhere in the mix of all of this the 911 operator was instructing Josh to find some string or dental floss to tie off the cord. He ran and grabbed the floss and I still get a kick out of this...among all of this chaos, he remembered to tell the operator that we wanted to wait until the cord stopped pulsing before we tied it off. How awesome is that?! I thought that was SO cute and so awesome that all these months of prepping for an intervention free and natural birth experience had actually sunken in with him. My heart swelled with love for him in that moment.
The EMTs came in and cut the cord and started all the routine tests to ensure she was safe. Sure enough, everything was awesome. The EMTs got me off the floor- after much instruction from ME on how to do so. How many male EMTs does it take to get a woman off the floor….the answer was six. One to listen to me bark orders and follow them, the other 5 to stand around and play with their gadgets and crack really dumb jokes. I had to laugh that I felt like I was the only one with my wits about me and I had just delivered a baby. Oh well…
They had to take me downstairs in a gurney because I had lost a LOT of blood at this point and I was in no condition to walk. Miss Lyza was downstairs pooping for the second time and being checked for heart rate and saturation levels. She was perfect, perfect, perfect. They strapped her in with me on the gurney and placed me in the back of the ambulance. I remember looking at Josh outside while they were lifting me in and loving him more in that moment than I swear I ever had. He was white as a sheet and obviously in shock but I had to laugh because he STILL had a level head on his shoulders and was on top of everything….which is SO Josh.
They transported us to Riverton Hospital which is only about 3 miles away from our house. I asked if she could breastfeed and the EMT was totally fine with it. I didn’t even have to move her. The second she smelled that boobie- she was off on the hunt! It was hilarious! She was rooting around and practically positioned herself to latch. It was a perfect latch from the first time! The EMT commented that his wife would hate me and I had to tell him that this was the first time ANY of my kids did anything like that!
We got to the ER and that was when either I went into total shock or the humor of the situation hit me the hardest. We arrived to a hallway FULL of medical staff and I started to laugh uncontrollably. All these people for just the two of us? We were fine! They took Lyza across the room to a barrage of about 10 people. They put her under all of these machines and hooked her up to heart monitors and stuff. I was on the other side of the room just hanging out answering questions about how this happened. Not because they wanted or needed to know any medical information, they were just curious.
The ER doc informed me that I couldn’t be admitted to Labor and Delivery since I had already delivered and so we would have to have any procedures done in the ER and then transferred to Mom and Me for recovery. My midwife had been notified but she was actually in the middle of another birth at Jordan Valley 20 minutes away. The ER doc said that I would need some stitches but that he would prefer to have my midwife take care of all of my work. I was fine with that. It took about an hour and half for her to get to see me. I tore in a lovely star pattern but all three tears were only a first degree which meant that they weren’t deep but gosh dang did they sting.
We spent 24 hours in recovery mainly because I had hemorrhaged pretty badly and I was pretty anemic. I didn’t have to have blood administered but I was really weak. I’m grateful that the nurses had the foresight not to let me use the bathroom by myself the first time. I kept telling her that I was fine. I felt fine- until I got the horrible echoing hearing and tunnel vision thing. She helped me back in bed and that’s when I decided maybe she was right and that I should take it a bit easier.
I spent 9 months planning this really special, natural birth. I wanted it just so- aromatherapy, my doula, candlelight. The funny thing is that I didn’t get it- I got something SO much better. I got to have an experience with my husband that I will never forget and has brought us so much closer. The two of us alone created her and the two of us alone brought her into this world. Can you ask for anything more special?
Its funny because now that the dust has settled a bit and the story of Lyza’s birth has gotten out, we have been asked a few questions that make me laugh. Did it hurt? In the moment, the LAST thing on my mind was a pain level. All my body and brain could focus on was getting her here. The physical pain wasn’t even a thought. Not to mention, adrenaline and endorphins are funny little boogers aren’t they. The second question I hear a lot is- Weren’t you scared? No. I wasn’t. Once I actually realized what the situation was there was no fear and no doubt. I knew that we could do this and I knew our baby was safe and I was more confident in that moment than I can explain.
There is a blog that I read my whole pregnancy that was titled Birth Without Fear. I always kind of laughed the titled off and thought to myself, there has got to be a LITTLE bit of fear- there are a million things that could go wrong. And yes- there are a million things that COULD go wrong but all I know is that in that moment- I was completely fearless, strong and capable. I DID birth without fear and it was awesome.
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