Cancer, Death, Survival February 4, 2012

This is my cousin, Rose Messmer.
She was diagnosed with a common form of Leukemia a few days ago.
Pray for her.
She is responding very well to treatment, but she has a battle that has only begun.

This is my husband’s cousin, Rudy.
On the same day we found out about Rose’s cancer, Rudy died in a car accident.
He left behind a wife, 3 daughters, and his first grandchild.
Please pray for them and our whole family during this difficult time.

This is my personal hero, Austin. My nephew.
He was born at 26 weeks gestation weighing 1 lb and 14 oz.
This tiny little baby has a will to live and he is a miracle.
He is now 3 months old and weighs 7 lbs.
He is a micro-preemie survivor.
Please pray for him to be able to go home with his family soon.
Pray for his lungs to be strong too.

This is a recent photo of our champion, Austin.

Happy Mommy Day May 8, 2009

Need Breastfeeding Support? April 22, 2009

Go here: Custom-Made Milk

And don’t delay!
I would not have made it this far breastfeeding my little Jaxon if not for her help and the help of those like her.
Run. Don’t walk. Go now!

This Year I Will February 19, 2009

I have been sitting on an urge. I haven’t known what that urge was until I read this post. Now I know.

There are many, many charities at home and abroad that need our help. Many. Too many.

Rich and I have given to many, many different flavors of need. Many. So many.

But this is different.

I read that post and I made a decision.

• I will not sponsor a child in a foreign country this year.
• I will not send money to drill a well or provide medicine or for a mission trip to anywhere this year (with the exception of the ones I’ve already promised a donation to).
• I will not support my local Christian radio station this year.
• I will not send money to big time domestic charities (Amer Heart Assoc, Amer Diabetes Assoc, Salv Army, etc) this year.

No. I won’t be involved in any of this type of giving this year.

How can you help?

Really I can do my own work on this one. But if you are local (as in, you live within 20 miles of me) and you know of someone truly in need like this lady and her baby who was mentioned in the post I just linked you to (yeah, click on it and read it — it’s short and it will do you good) then let me know immediately.

I’ll be on the phone tomorrow with the local hospitals, CareNet locations, and churches. I’ll find her. She’s out there. Her baby is sick and needs to eat. I will feed that baby the formula my child doesn’t need because I am able to breastfeed him.

Tonight — when Jaxon wakes me up at 4:00 in the morning for some boob time (as we affectionately call it) I will be so proud of my ability to feed my child a full meal straight from my healthy body. And I will think of her. I will wonder who she is who can’t feed her child a healthy meal. I will pray for her and her baby. I will ask God to reveal her to me. Then I will feed her baby the formula my child doesn’t need until her child is a year old.

This year I will do this.
Because I can.

This year…
what will you do?

Differing Opinions February 4, 2009

I am learning so much about being a Mom right now. I consider myself a veteran for the most part, however there are a few things I didn’t know. Because of this new information, I have been asking a lot of questions to friends of mine who have experienced what I am experiencing now. And you know what — some of them differ greatly in how they answer my questions. It’s very interesting.

I take what I can use from each of them and leave the rest. This is how life is done anyway. And it’s working.

Motherhood doesn’t come naturally. Sure the pregnancy is pretty natural. The birth can be totally natural too. My friend LB has given birth to all 3 of her children as naturally as one can. She’s a trooper! But, after that, it’s mostly trial and error. Things start to come together and may seem natural, but really it’s that Mom and Baby have learned a few things from one another. A Mommy learns what different sounding cries mean. Babies learn their Mother’s voice and unique touch and take comfort in that familiarity.

Breastfeeding doesn’t come naturally either. The body’s ability to produce milk to sustain the life of a growing child is totally natural. The ins and outs of feeding the Baby are learned. Trial and error.

Babies are resilient. It serves a parent good to remember that — especially when guilt feelings surface. Am I holding the baby enough? Am I talking to the baby enough? Am I bonding with the baby enough? Am I drinking enough water for milk production? Is giving a pacifier to the baby a good thing or a bad thing? Is lack of sleep causing me to resent the baby? And so on…

My Mom has not given me much advice unless I’ve asked for it. She’s very wise like that. My Mother-in-law is fairly similar in that she does not interfere and I think she can tell when she’s on the edge of “the line” and she won’t cross it. She’s wise too. My Sisters and my Sister-in-law are available whenever I call upon them. My friends are greatly supportive too. It’s important for a Mother to have a large pool of women from which she can draw upon. I am so blessed in that regard.

But not all of them agree. And the good thing is, none of them will insist that I do it their way and only their way. It’s sort of an unspoken thing that all Moms know. We all know that it’s ok to give advice and it’s ok to tell how we do things with our own kids, but it’s not ok to insist another Mother do it like we do it. We have a silent understanding that not all parents are the same and it’s a good thing.

It’s a good thing.

My Precious Little Life January 8, 2009

I
Can’t
Wait
To
Meet
You

Will you look like him?
Will you look like me?
Will you look like them?
Blue eyes? Brown? Green?
Blond hair? Brown? Red?
Chubby cheeks?

Mommy loves you.
Daddy loves you.
Brianna & Jeremy love you too.
You have a huge family.
Just wait till they all see you.
Soon, my lovely one. Soon.

*all photos courtesy of
Google Images*

The C-section Experience January 6, 2009

I know some women who are afraid of this particular birthing method. I don’t understand why, but I’m sure they have their reasons. Maybe because it is major surgery? Maybe because of the spinal block? Maybe ORs are scary places? Maybe it’s all the lights and sterile atmosphere? Maybe it’s the big blue sheet all up in their faces? Maybe it’s the fear of having their arms strapped down crucifixion style? Maybe it’s all the tubes and machines and monitors and team of “incase something goes wrong here” nurses from the NICU? Maybe it’s the “we might have to put you all the way under if an emergency arises”? Maybe because of all the waivers that need signed?

I don’t know. Whatever it is, I’d like to explain the c-section experience from my perspective. I’ve had two of them. Both were planned. Both were exactly the same, yet different (I’ll explain so read on). Both were fine. Neither had complications. I healed quicker than a lot of women I know who had vaginal deliveries. Granted, I am a quick healer, but there was nothing to fear as far as the healing process goes.

Since one week from today I will have another c-section, I thought I’d lay it all out. If you are easily grossed out by surgical and/or medical procedures then stop reading here and come back tomorrow for a less graphic post.

This post will be a long one. I am mainly writing this for women who are facing a c-section birth — some of which are scared to death.

Brianna’s birth – 9/1/04 – Columbus, Ohio

Since this was my first experience with c-section I didn’t exactly know what to expect. I had watched my fair share of Birth Day on TV and they showed their fair share of c-sections. I was mentally and emotionally prepared for it and had a rough idea of what would happen. I had several surgical procedures before my first c-section so I had no fear. None.

Upon arrival, I was escorted to a bed and told to take all of my clothes off and put on a hospital gown leaving the back open. My clothes and shoes went into a plastic bag. My husband was given scrubs to put on over his clothes and shoes as well as a hair cover. They inserted one IV tube for fluids and one for anesthesia to use, which was later used for nurses to inject pain meds. Then they gave me a catheter. My stomach was strapped to two monitors. One was to keep tabs on the baby’s heart, the other was to keep tabs on my uterus (just like a non-stress test). They gave me some icky junk to drink which was to empty my stomach into my intestines. It’s sour and yuck, but I’d rather down that than puke after the surgery. I stayed like that for about an hour.

Nurses asked me a ton of questions (which they kept repeating) and I had to sign some papers. My OB came to check on me a few times. I spoke with the anesthesia folks, the NICU folks, and some random scrubby wearing folks. It was funny sometimes and serious other times. During my wait for an OR (busy hospital in a big town) two girls had emergency c-sections. They obviously took priority so my wait was a bit longer than usual.

Once in the OR I had to get my spinal. That was interesting. I leaned over into a nurse (like she was hugging me) in the worst possible posture I could manage trying to push my spine out like a cat. The feeling of the needle being inserted in my epidural space hurt a little — about a 3 on a scale of 1-10 — but I am told I have a moderately high threshold for pain. Immediately it felt like little cold slivery needles were shooting through my legs (this feeling is very unpleasant to me). The nurse caught me and leaned me into the anesthestist and they laid my on my back. I could feel nothing from my chest down. They strapped my arms to the table, pulled the sheet up so I couldn’t see anything below my chest, and started asking me if I could feel this or that and telling me to move my legs, which I could not do no matter how hard I tried. If I remember right, one of my legs slipped off the bed and I had no clue until, along with giggles, the nurse told me.

My OB and the intern assisting walked in, greeted me, and began scrubbing up. My OB walked around the table to tell me a few last minute details and about then I started to feel nauseous. I told her and she looked at the anesthetist who cranked something into my veins and from that point on I nicknamed him “Dr. Feel Good”. I felt amazing. Whatever that drug was, I still want more. LOL!

Rich came in right before they opened me up. I felt nothing. Since my OB was being assisted by an intern she explained in detail each part of the surgery. I was in awe. I love that junk anyway. I heard her say “her head is too big, we’ll have to make the incision bigger”. I heard “her head is out” and Rich jumped up and started snapping pictures. Brianna’s head popped right out when my doctor reached inside my womb. She eased her body out and I only felt slight pressure and a few jerking motions. I heard them suction Bree and the gagging and choking my newborn girl was doing. I didn’t like those sounds, but I knew how necessary it was for her in order not to swallow amniotic fluid as she tried to take her first breath.

My OB brought my naked and screaming newborn around the table to show me. She was gooey, slimy, bloody, and mucousy and it was the most beautiful sight I had ever laid my eyes on. And she was screaming. I know I said that, but our little Brianna hasn’t stopped screaming since that moment. Well, almost. She’s a vocal little thing.

Rich went to be with the nurses who were working with little Bree and I heard my OB explain what they were doing to close me up. I heard the staples going in and I told everyone in the room how much I loved each and every single one of them — esp Dr. Feel Good. It was truly amazing.

I was in recovery for a little over an hour. Once I could dig my heels into the bed and lift my bottom and legs off the mattress they allowed me to go to my room.

Jeremy’s Birth – 3/27/06 – Stuart, Florida

I had been having what I thought were Braxton Hicks contractions all morning. I left my 18 month old daughter with a sitter and headed to my doc’s office for a regular OB appt and non-stress test. I told the sitter and my little girl before I left that I’d see them in 2 hours. That was the last time I saw my daughter until the next day.

The nurse monitoring my non-stress test couldn’t have been more shocked when she came into the room 20 minutes after starting the test. “You’re having contractions. Don’t you feel those? I have to go show this to your doctor. You will probably have that baby today. I’ll be right back.” She ripped off the strip of paper showing my contractions and left the room. I was in a state of disbelief which lasted until I got to the hospital.

All the same procedures were performed as when I had Brianna. The situation was a little different, but it was no emergency and I had time to chit-chat with the nursing staff while they got me ready. Even though the c-section for Jeremy was planned, it wasn’t supposed to happen until April 5th. He was born March 27th. He had his own idea of when he wanted to be born.

There was a difference as far as the delivery experience for me. Jeremy must have been a stinker to get out. I felt so much pressure this time around and it scared me a couple of times. No pain. Pressure. They pulled, jerked, pulled, pushed, jerked, pushed more, pulled more and it literally felt like someone was sitting on my chest bouncing up and down until my lungs collapsed (my lungs did not collapse, but it felt like they did because I felt like I could not breathe). At one point I told Rich to “get that nurse off of me”. He looked at me like I was a crazy loon and the anesthesist told me nobody was on my chest. I hated his delivery. I felt like I was being torn apart from my chest to my pelvis. Again, I felt no pain, but the pressure was overwhelming. Once he was out complete peace filled the room and I was fine.

Jeremy choked and gagged on the suction too. But his cry was so much quieter than Brianna’s screams. To this day, he is a much quieter child than she is. Anyway, I got to hold and kiss him for about 30 seconds and then off he went to the nursery with Rich following close behind.

I heard them staple me up and I complimented everyone. Into recovery I went and stayed again for about an hour. They brought Jeremy to me after his bath and he began right away to eat eagerly. After he ate, we went to my hospital room and there we stayed until Thursday morning.

The truth about cesarean

• The sooner you start walking the faster you will begin to heal. This is not a myth. Walk and walk as much as you can.
• It hurts to laugh and to cough, but if you hold a pillow to your incision area before you do either it eases the pain considerably.
• Catheters are great for the first few hours and then they become a real bother.
• IVs suck after about 5 hours when you start to want to rip them out yourself.
• Take pain meds. Just take them. You’re welcome.
• If you don’t poop you don’t eat solid food and you won’t be discharged. Ask for stool softeners and laxatives. Your nurse will probably offer them to you, but if not ASK.
• You will bleed from your hee-haw like you’ve been shot. Be prepared.
• Staples look bad. Don’t look if you can help it. It’s like Frankenstein.
• Staples sometimes hurt when removed and sometimes not. I think it all depends on who stapled you and how gentle the nurse is who removes them. Both times (2 diff hospitals in 2 diff states) my staples were removed right before I was discharged.
• You will be in the hospital a minimum of 3 days.
• Once home try to take it easy. However, the day I was discharged my daughter fell off of my platform king sized bed and I jumped off the bed, scooped her up, and ran to her bedroom. My husband ran after me, made me sit down, and I held her until she stopped crying. Guess what? Nothing happened and I was fine (she was too by the way).
• By the end of week one I was walking and functioning and feeling almost like myself. By week two I was dying to start exercising. I didn’t do that, but I felt like I could have. By week four I felt totally normal and the bleeding was pretty much gone. By week eight I was normal and couldn’t believe they made me wait that long to heal. I felt fine by week 4.

The benefits of cesarean

• No sore hee-haw
• No torn hee-haw
• No stretched hee-haw
• No bladder control issues
• No troubles down below whatsoever
• Your hee-haw stays the same as it was before you got pregnant

Cesarean cons

• Long hospital stay
• Bye bye flat stomach no matter how tiny you get post-partum (I wore a size 4 about 10 months after having Jeremy and still no flat stomach)
• Itchy abdomen as the incision heals
• More complications can happen — hopefully they won’t happen
• It’s major surgery
• You are physically limited for 2 weeks, at least

One more week and I’ll have my third, which I’m sure will have a story all its own. And you know I’ll post about it.

If you’re facing a c-section, be not afraid. It’s not as bad as you might think and it’s definitely better, in my not so humble opinion, than trying to squeeze an 8 pound baby out of a quarter sized hole. You’ll be fine. You will.

You’ve Got Male December 30, 2008

So according to me I am 38+ weeks pregnant. According to my flawed doctors and their reliance on ultrasound at 7 weeks gestation (yes, that’s sarcasm) I am 37+ weeks gestation. Doesn’t really matter though — both get me to full-term (a full-term singleton pregnancy is one that reaches 37 weeks — that’s when baby lungs are fully developed).

Ok. So what. Right?

Well I am here to tell you that I have made it this far — inches from giving birth — and the gender “secret” has been utterly ruined. People just aren’t used to keeping gender a secret in our current times. Now, I thought my Mother-in-law had spoiled it awhile ago when we thought there may be a cyst on the baby’s brain. She was (besides my medical crew) the only one who knew the gender b/c she went with me to the ultrasound and I told the sonographer that it was ok to tell her. But I was certain she’d keep her lips shut. So certain that I allowed her to come. Well when I got the news she did the whole “he, him, his” thing as she was trying to console me. Unbelievable.

Then came the series of ultrasounds (nine) and echocardiograms (three) on the little wee one. I still didn’t know the gender. I refused to look at the screen during examination near the nether regions.

The perinatologist, an unemotional guy I’m sure due to the nature of his job, slipped once and called the baby “he”. He didn’t react, but ever so slickly went back to calling the baby “the baby”. Hmm.

Out of about 100 people, I kid you not, all but 3 have said “it’s a boy” and a few were complete strangers (remember Home Depot guy?).

Well I had a regular OB check and non-stress test Monday. The midwife decided to examine me in the NST (non-stress test) room. During a NST my baby and my uterus are monitored. I can hear the baby’s heartbeat the whole time. It’s my job to click this button thingy whenever I feel it move. The goal is for the baby’s heart rate to go up during movement. If it goes down, there is trouble. All three of my full-term babies have repeatedly passed this test. Thank God!

Ok so the midwife is coming into the room saying all loud and proud “that little boy is so active, I can hear his heartbeat all the way down the hallway, he’s a happy little guy in there”. For crying in your Cheerios!!! Are you serious? I have gone an entire pregnancy without knowing for sure if it’s a boy or not until exactly 2 weeks from my c-section. Aaaaahhhhhh [me screaming]!!!!! You have GOT to be kidding me!! Someone who shall remain nameless (Dorothy the midwife) apparantly did not read the part of my chart which said “gender unknown to Mom by choice”.

So the slips were slips and could very well have meant nothing because a lot of people say “he”. However, “little boy, little guy” is waaaay more than a slip.

I know it’s rare to not know gender these days. I am well aware of that. But it was so cool hearing Rich call out Jeremy’s gender in the operating room. I just wanted that experience one more time. This is it for us. Once our newest baby boy is born I will have no more pregnancies. Tubes tied. Snipped. Burned. Kaput!

Am I mad? No. I had a feeling it’s a boy too. Lots of similarities with the end of my pregnancy with little Jay-Jay. But I didn’t know for sure.

Am I disappointed? Greatly. I feel like my moment of hearing that excitement in Rich’s voice as he gets to tell me we just had a little baby boy has been robbed.

I won’t dwell. I won’t. What can we do? Nothing.

But [sigh] I just think that sucks a little. Ya know?

Google Images
“newborn boy”

She Broke Me December 17, 2008

Twice now I have written posts about things relating to this downward spiral we call an economy. Twice I have deleted them. Most posts I now write I schedule so I’ll have time to reread them to be certain I want to live with the consequences of posting them. Usually they just end up being edited a couple times. Rarely do I scrap them altogether. However, I thought I lacked compassion and understanding in the economical hard times people are experiencing so in order to keep from sounding like a jack ass I decided not to post those “articles”.

Today brought it full circle and just about brought me to my knees as well. I’m so thankful I did not post them. Sometimes listening to that still, small voice is beyond important. Sometimes it saves me from eating a lot of crow along with swallowing both feet. Whew. Dodged the missile bullet on that one.

There is a woman who was pregnant and hugely enormous whose daughter is in the same preschool class as mine. I noticed about a week or so ago that her enormous belly had disappeared. I had been meaning to congratulate her and ask about the baby. Every time I saw her the stars were not aligned in such a way that I could start up a friendly Mommy conversation. Today I determined I would force the alignment and merge into her path so I could ask how everything was going. Since I hadn’t seen the baby yet I was secretly worried it was in the NICU or something. I am so very dramatic (as if you haven’t figured that out yet).

My drama could never have touched the reality though. Ever.

First let me stand on a fine line of judgmentalism. You’ll understand as you read what I mean by that. I had noticed as she got bigger and bigger she wasn’t wearing maternity clothes. She always had on large t-shirts and sweatpants or stretchy cotton shorts without the drawstring. Remember I am a very observant person by nature so cut me slack because I don’t purposely notice these things. Anyway, her shoes were worn out, her children seemed to always wear the same few outfits week after week, and their shoes were worn out too. I assumed that she didn’t have a lot of money. I didn’t think less of her. My heart went out to her. I’m being sincere.

So as I was approaching Brianna’s classroom I was preparing to say something to her in passing because she was signing her little girl in before me. I waited patiently in the hall holding the door open. There was another mother in there before us and thank you God for that woman. Thank you God you put that woman in that room before me. Here’s why I say that.

That woman asked the no longer pregnant Mom about her baby. I was right behind them in line so I heard the whole conversation. I’ll admit my ears perked up because I was going to do that exact thing if it hadn’t already been unfolding before my very ears. The no longer pregnant Mom said “the baby I was carrying wasn’t mine”. The woman said cheerfully “oh you were a surrogate Mom, that’s wonderful”. The no longer pregnant Mom said “yeah, something like that I guess. Actually he was my 6th baby, and we, well…” She tapered off and the woman who asked her immediately turned five shades of pale and I think her heart may have stopped beating for half a minute. She didn’t know what to say. I was inwardly thanking God that He kept me from being the “one to ask”. I pretended I hadn’t heard a thing and started messing with Brianna’s hair to look busy and distracted.

Hard times. Economic struggles.

How about having to give up your child because you cannot afford another one?

Gulp!

I held the tears till I got to the van. Then I sprung a leak. Ok, I sprung a waterfall. That unselfish full of love Mom did the most unbearable thing in the universe. She loved that baby so much she gave him life and then gave him a better life. The only time she had with that little baby boy was the 9 months he spent in her womb and the few minutes (hours?) they may have given her with him after delivery.

That little baby boy has just been the best Christmas gift his new Mom could ever have dreamed of. That little baby boy has just been the biggest sacrifice his other Mom has ever had to make.

And he has no idea that he has 5 older siblings. I wonder if he’ll ever know. I wonder if his adoptive family has more children. I wonder if they live in Florida. I wonder so many things.

So much love in that little one’s life. So much sacrifice. So much.

Happy birthday baby boy. Your little life has touched me and changed me and given me compassion for the people who have real struggles and real pain and real sacrifices. Because of you my eyes have been opened to the smack dab reality our society faces these days.

Happy birthday sweetheart and I am praying for you. I hope your new family will teach you the love of Christ and that your birth Mom will get to see you once again in heaven. God bless you and your precious life.

Thank you God for showing me how selfish and inconsiderate I was being and for saving me from utter embarrassment. You are so gentle and loving and protective. Amen.

Google Images
Photo by Anne Geddes

Footsie December 3, 2008

As I was driving to yet another doctor’s appointment, I felt something hard at the very tippy top of my stomach. Neat! Head? No. Butt? No. Foot? Yes!!

I used to play games with Brianna when she was in utero. She’d push her foot to my stomach at the top. I’d rub it. She’d leave it there for a minute while I rubbed. She’d move it for a minute or two and then she’d do it again. Over and over we’d do this almost daily at the end of my pregnancy. She still loves to have her feet rubbed.

Jeremy would push his feet up and then start circling them around. I couldn’t rub his feet because as soon as I did he’d hide them from me. Once he was born I found out why. The boy is super ticklish. Cute, huh?

This baby seemed to like having a foot rub. I loved feeling the tiny little foot pushing on me. It’s so small. Seemed about 4 or 5 inches from toes to heel. Adorable.

It’s moving all over the place right now. Just when I start to think it has run out of room the womb gymnastics begin again. This is my favorite part about being pregnant. This is how I bond with my babies before they are born. This is something only I can experience with him or her. Others can feel it move if I tell them where to put their hand. But I know each and every little twitch. It’s me and the baby right now. So sweet and precious. Moments I won’t forget. Just us.

Google Images