4 Weeks with Grace: My Favorite Word of Webster’s

Did any of you parents out there obsess about baby names when you were pregnant? Or did you somehow already know what your child’s name would be? I was a little hypocritical during my pregnancy because I kept telling everyone that I wanted to meet our little one before deciding on a name, but somehow deep in my heart, I knew if we had a girl her name was already decided. I gravitated towards this name because of what it means. It’s a word that has literally transformed my life and if I ever got to have a daughter I wanted her to be named for it. I can’t even begin to express how relieved I was when I told Seth the name and he didn’t banish it to the land of no hope by giving it a veto. 

Even though I already had my favorite girl name picked out, I had a unique moment when I was about six months pregnant that helped solidify it as my number one choice. I was driving by myself and of course daydreaming about the moment when the doctor places your baby on your chest. I imagined the scenario with Seth shouting, “It’s a boy!” and then he would ask me what his name was and I would turn towards him and say, “This is ____” After a few rounds of this I realized I hadn’t played out the situation of the baby being a girl. I pictured a baby girl being placed on my chest and as the imaginary me in my mind said her name, I instantaneously burst into tears! There was no build up with my eyes starting to well and my throat getting tight. All of a sudden I was just completely sobbing. It was strange. After a few minutes I regained my composure and I think I even said out loud to myself, “That was weird.” I figured it was just my wacky pregnancy hormones up to their usual strangeness. I had no idea that my emotional freak-out was a weird way of my body responding to the little life that was growing inside of me.

Yesterday I had another emotional moment but this time I got to experience it with my little one. I picked up my daughter as she woke from her nap and as usual started talking to her. I usually tell her lovey dovey things that would be embarrassing for me if anyone ever overheard. On every other day this conversation has been one-sided for the most part. She might be looking at me but it’s not like she can answer back. Yesterday was the first time I got a response from her and it sent my heart soaring. I lifted her up so her eyes were level with mine. As soon as she was inches away, she gave me a smile that took up her whole face. I started laughing and swaying her back and forth and thought, “What did I do to deserve this?” There is an answer to that question, and the answer is..nothing.

What do you call it when you are given something you don’t deserve? The definition for that…is Grace.

"Grace: defined as the love and mercy given to us by God because God wants us to have it, not because of anything we have done to earn it" -Wikipedia 

How did you pick your child’s name?

P.S. I sincerely love hearing from you! I don’t have to be the only one who does all the talking every week. Let’s make this a two-way conversation :)

You can leave comments here on the blog or if you know me personally you can write to me on Facebook. 

Blessings,

Shantastic

3 Weeks with Grace: Never regret having a dirty sink

I no longer have a concept for the difference between day and night. I used to rarely take naps and if I did it had to be at a time that made sense for the rest of the day. Now I’m finding myself awake at 3:45a.m. and taking a nap at 6:00p.m. I think so far in this whole motherhood to a newborn thing the lack of sleep is the only part that is not very magical. Ok, getting puked on while nursing and literally feeling the warmth run down your back isn’t very magical either. However, I knew what I was signing up for. The only part I wish us moms could change about it though is how delirious you feel at times. I’ve had moments in the middle of the night when I’m changing Grace’s diaper and I feel like a sleepless zombie just going through the motions. I’ve caught myself having to stop for a second and just look at her. If I can get myself to stop and look at her big mesmerizing eyes, I snap out of my zombie-like state and remember why I’m doing all this. I’m her momma, and she needs me to take care of her. Would I trade my Gracie for eight consecutive hours of sleep? Never.

So, how do we solve our lack of sleep problems? Some of the best advice I have gotten is that familiar phrase that most first-time moms hear, “You sleep when the baby sleeps.” I went into my life with Grace with that mentality in mind but making that advice a reality is much more challenging than I realized. You have to time the feedings out perfectly in order to get even an hour of sleep. The second she is done nursing I have to lay down otherwise there simply won’t be enough time before her next feeding. It’s also challenging at times to give myself permission to lie down in the middle of the day and sleep. Since I’m staying home with Gracie all day I feel like it’s my responsibility to keep the house clean and organized. I’m slowly realizing that taking care of a three-week old is a full-time job by itself. However, even in the moments when I do convince myself to stop and nap while Gracie is snoozing, it still doesn’t guarantee that I will actually get to sleep. All you moms out there know exactly what it feels like to finally get the baby to sleep, let yourself sink down into your warm bed, and 10 seconds later hear your little one explode something awful in her diaper and know that your nap is now on hold indefinitely. Even though these moments can send my brain into a whole new level of delirium, thankfully my maternal instincts kick in when I think about how helpless this tiny little life is and how much she depends on me to give up my nap and change that stinky mess.

Another piece of advice I have received from many moms is to enjoy every moment because babies grow up fast. We all know Gracie isn’t going to stay 7lbs 10oz forever. For many moms it is hard to see their babies grow up and not be little anymore. Even though there is definitely a part of my heart that desperately wants her to stay this tiny adorable little bundle, I can also sincerely say I’m excited for her to grow up. I want to experience all the stages of life with her. I daydream about what it will feel like when she hugs me for the first time and what her voice will sound like when she laughs. In order to experience any of these things, she has to get bigger and I have to be ok with it.

The only way I will be able to silence the part of my heart that wants her to stay little forever is if I seriously just stop and live in each moment. It’s true. The dishes can wait. The dishes will be there tomorrow just as dirty as they are today. What won’t be the same tomorrow is my baby. She will be one day older.

My favorite times with Grace so far have been the moments when I have remembered to stop and be present with her. Yesterday I literally said out loud to Seth, “Ok, while you’re gone at the store I’m going to see if I can get the kitchen in order.” Then as I was walking by Gracie who was squirming around on one of her fuzzy blankets I abruptly did a one-eighty and plopped myself down on the floor next to her. While Sethwas gone I didn’t even step foot in the kitchen, instead I played with my little girl. I kissed her hands and snuggled her close to me. In this new journey of being a parent, I know in moments like these I will never regret letting the dishes sit in the sink.

Did you get any advice as a first-time parent?

Blessings,

Shantastic 

Can we keep her?

So many moms told me to look forward to the moment when the doctor places your baby on your chest for the first time. They said that nothing in the world compared to holding your long-awaited child in your arms. For me, I definitely felt love for Gracie when I first saw her, but it wasn’t exactly how I expected it to be. After getting to the hospital only an hour and half before I met my Gracie, I think I was still in so much shock that the labor was over. I had mentally set myself up to be in pain for at least another six or seven hours. And instead I was already looking into the eyes of my little one. I was too exhausted to produce any tears so instead I was doing this weird sort of heaving instead of crying. I eventually felt all those overwhelming ‘lovey” emotions towards her, I think it just took me a few hours before it all seemed real.

I’ve always been a realist. I look at a situation and I see the potentially good and bad outcomes, then I prepare myself for the bad and know then that I’ll be happily surprised if the good prevails. I really think there was a part of me that was waiting for this all to be a dream, for someone to come in and say, “I’m sorry, but you know you don’t get to keep her right?” Once it started to sink in that she was ours, forever, my heart started to overflow with more of the emotions I had originally expected.

About ten minutes after she arrived I realized I hadn’t kissed her yet. Feeling her ‘baby soft’ skin on my lips about stopped my heart. It was as if in that moment I started to realize she was real. She was mine. Then the first time I was alone with her in the hospital room was another moment full of emotion. I was talking to her and I said, ‘Hi Grace, I’m your momma.” At the word “momma” my voice broke and for the first time that day, tears ran down my cheeks in streams. Then when we brought her home I was nursing her in her room and as I looked around at all the work we put into her room I realized the owner of that room was finally here. My eye caught the photo of her 20-week ultrasound and I started sobbing as I cradled the little person from the picture in my arms. Seth walked in the room in the middle of my “mommy moment” and froze in the doorway for a second. In our birthing class I think the instructor scared all the dads when she talked about post-partum depression. I think they were all thinking, “Wait a second, we’ve had to figure out how to navigate living with someone who has been a pregnant ball of emotions for nine months and now you’re telling me there’s a chance she could get depressed?” In that moment I’m sure a tiny part of his brain was hoping my tears were happy and not sad. He tentatively asked, “You ok?” and between sobs I choked out the words, ‘Yes. I’m. just. so. haaappppyyyyy.”

It’s been amazing to watch Seth bond with her too. Moms get an unfair advantage of bonding with their baby for nine months, so it’s incredible to watch him get to experience her too. I think most women can agree that there is just something about seeing a grown man hold something so fragile with so much care. He’s also been really silly with her and it just cracks me up. He’ll hold her so it looks like she’s standing and then have her “walk” across the table or he’ll take her hands and make it look like she’s rapping to Notorious B.I.G. One day he was doing “skin-to-skin” with her on the couch and all of a sudden I heard him go, “oww...oww! OWW!” She had gotten a handful of his chest hair and started pulling it while at the same time she had somehow miraculously latched onto his nipple and was trying to get a little snack! On Tuesday while I was getting her bath all set up Seth got her stripped down. Since he was going to take a shower after he helped me with her bath he had his shirt off and thought he might as well hold her close to keep her warm while I finished getting the bath ready. I’m sure all you parents out there know how dangerous it is to hold a baby who is not wearing a diaper. 30 seconds later Seth screamed, ‘Ahh!! She just peed on me!” He had felt something warm run down his stomach and immediately assumed it was pee. I burst out laughing and said between fits of giggles, “No honey… that’s poop!!” Grace truly does have impeccable timing!

Two weeks after bringing Grace home, I’m still having my “overwhelming turn into a mushy puddle of tears because I’m so happy” moments with her. In one of my previous blog posts I said something about how I couldn’t believe that I could love someone so much who I had never met. Now I think it’s pretty amazing that I love this little person to this capacity, and all she does is eat, sleep, fart, and poop on my husband.

What were your “overwhelming turn into a mushy puddle of tears because I’m so happy” moments with your newborn?

Blessings,

Shantastic 

"How far do you wanna be?"

To the wonderful readers out there who give my inner monologue an audience each week and to those who are joining us for the first time, I have one disclaimer before I can begin the story of Grace’s birthday.

Disclaimer: Because her birthday was such an eventful day, my post this week is a little on the lengthy side…ok, a lot on the lengthy side. I promise next week I’ll reign in my inner voice. But for this week, I let it run wild.

“How far do you wanna be?”

Our lives are the composite of our daily decisions. Who did you decide to marry, what did you decide to do for a living, did you decide to become a parent? When you decide you want to have a baby, all you can think about is getting to that final moment when the doctor places him/her in your arms. Even though nine months is really only a blink compared to a full life, it felt like it dragged on and on for Seth and me. My due date was August 24^th and once I hit 37 weeks we were constantly on full alert. Braxton Hicks teased me endlessly and I grew more uncomfortable everyday. Finally, at 3:45a.m. on August 27^th Braxton Hicks decided to take a leave of absence and sent the real thing. Our decision to have a baby was finally coming true.

The contractions were very mild at this point but I knew they were the real thing. I prayed over our baby and prayed for Seth, then I woke him up. He was groggy at first and then when he realized why I was waking him, he sprang to attention. The entire pregnancy he was always saying he wished there was more he could do. He felt burdened that I was the one doing all the physical work. His job of being my “labor coach” was finally beginning! His job description: be whatever I needed him to be.  And he was.

My contractions were less than five minutes apart at this point but they were only lasting about 30 seconds. I was able to still move around the house and pack some last minute things. We called the hospital and were told to wait and call back when my contractions were less than five minutes apart and lasting 60-90 seconds each for two hours. It was as if my body heard the nurse say this and immediately started stepping up the pain. Each contraction got longer and slightly more painful. The most comfortable place for me ended up being the fetal position at the head of the bed. I kept taking ‘cleansing breaths” through each contraction which is breathing in through your nose and out through your mouth, and Seth kept recording everything. Two hours finally passed so Seth called the hospital to tell one of the nurses. I could hear the nurse on the other end tell Seth that we could come in if we wanted but there was no rush. She said most women like to labor at home as long as possible. Seth and I looked at each other with puzzled expressions. Now we had a decision to make. Stay at home longer or get to the hospital. The last thing I wanted to deal with was being sent back home because I wasn’t far enough dilated. So, we decided to stay at home a little while longer.

The next stage in my labor story is what I refer to as the “dark place”. I went from being able to have an intelligent conversation between contractions to almost completely unable to communicate at all. I was starting to have to grab onto the headboard and squeeze during each contraction. They were getting so strong and I kept thinking, “How much worse does it get from here?” After about an hour of being in the “dark place” I heard Seth talking to his best friend on the phone asking for prayer because we were in labor. Seth hung up and came to get an update on how I was feeling. He said that his friend gave us some advice since his middle child was almost born on the freeway because they labored at home too long. First he had asked Seth a series of questions, “Can Shan talk through her contractions?” Seth said, “No.” “Is she reaching out and clenching onto things?’ Seth's response, “Yes.” Then his friend said the advice that without receiving, we may have let ourselves get in an extremely dangerous situation. He said, “Buddy, I think you should go to the hospital now.” It was 8:20.

When Seth relayed the conversation to me I felt my heart latch onto the words, “you should go”. Seth had made sure the car was packed up so after a contraction finished I walked as fast as I could to the car. I had a mission and that was to get to the hospital bed. We made it to the labor and delivery check in desk after a series of contractions that had once again intensified. While I was signing the paperwork I had a contraction that was so bad I started spinning in a circle desperately looking for a chair to sit in. I came really close to just collapsing on the floor and falling into my favored fetal position!

Finally, we walked into our room and I saw the bed that I had been dreaming about. I got all set up with the monitors and then asked the nurse if it was normal to be feeling an involuntary pressing down sensation during the most recent contractions. It felt like my body was starting to push baby downwards on its own in big thumps. She said yes, it was normal. I was now at the point where I was savoring the few seconds between each contraction and dreading the next one. Then, the head nurse who I accurately will refer to as Nurse Nice Lady came in. As she was checking my cervix to see how far dilated I was, she paused and said with a smirk on her face, “How far do you wanna be?” I was so disoriented that I didn’t know what she was talking about. I think I might have said, “Huh??” She replied with, “You’re at 9cm my dear.” It was 9:20.

If we would have waited at home another hour, I would have been dilated to 9cm and Seth and I would have been clueless about it.  My body would have been experiencing the involuntary push and we would have had no idea what to do.

The next series of contractions made the “dark place” I had experienced earlier feel like Disneyland. These new contractions felt like Bellatrix Lestrange from Harry Potter was practicing the Cruciatus Curse on me. For those of you who are not HP fans, the Cruciatus Curse is also known as the torture curse. My stomach went rock hard all the way around and my back felt like someone had it in a vice and kept tightening it as far as it would go. The pressure to push was almost unbearable. For the first time since I started laboring, I could no longer take cleansing breaths. I was still in too much shock to be weeping so instead my voice came out with an involuntary, “ahhh ahhhh ahhhhhh” that was between talking and shouting.  After four or five rounds of pure torture, Nurse Nice Lady checked me again. To my relief she said, ‘I don’t feel anymore cervix. You’re ready to push!” It was 9:45.

Sometimes the decisions we make are so important that they mark the distinction between life and death, between safe and unsafe. Our decision to leave for the hospital was and will forever be one of the best decisions we ever made. I truly believe God used Seth’s friend to tell us exactly when we needed to leave for the hospital. Without his advice we may have stayed at home too long and put our baby’s safety (and mine) at risk.

The pushing part was actually one of the best parts of the whole labor experience. I’m not sure if that’s the same for every woman. The contractions still hurt but being able to push with it made it much more bearable. As soon as I started pushing Nurse Nice Lady turned to the other nurses and said, “Umm when did you say Dr. Calming Voice will be getting to the hospital? …And how far away is that hospital? …How long ago did she leave for here?” It seemed to me like what she really wanted to be saying was, “We’re going to need Dr. Calming Voice in here much sooner than we thought and it looks like she might not make it in time.” Even though I may have been reading the situation totally wrong, I turned it into motivation. If they thought I might need the doctor soon, I wanted that to be true. I wanted that doctor to come, catch my baby, end this pain, and introduce me to my little one.

After about 15 minutes of pushing Nurse Nice Lady asked Seth if he wanted to see his baby’s head. She said you could see about the size of a quarter. I asked her how much needed to be showing before the doctor would come in. She held up a circle with her hands about the size of a large sand dollar. I guess I really must be driven by concrete goals because I’ve never pushed so stinking hard in my life. Not to “toot my own horn” but I even kept pushing after they told me to take a break. Nurse Nice lady was saying, “Push push push push and breathe… oh, you’re still going? Ok! Push push push!” Then she said something to the other nurses that I had been hoping for, “Please call Dr. Calm Voice.”

The doctor came in and for the next 30 minutes I pushed and pushed. It was a little weird to actually be able to feel baby move a tiny bit at a time. It was getting close to 10:30 and the doctor said, “I’m noticing baby’s heart rate is starting to drop and it looks like baby is getting stuck. I’m going to give you some Novocain in case I need to make a little cut, is that ok?” The way I interpreted that statement was, “If we don’t get baby out soon and the heart rate keeps dropping then we will start talking about a c-section.” So, I told her to go for it.

Seth said it was kind of funny because as soon as the doctor made the cut, baby just shot out like a cannon. The doctor even fumbled just a little trying to catch her! At 10:36a.m. Grace joined our lives! If you read my post from last week then you know how surprised we were to have a little girl instead of the boy we were expecting. We both, however, couldn’t be happier.

Those of you who have been reading my posts from the beginning know that I had been hoping to have a drug-free labor. I was prepared to do what was necessary, but I wanted it to be natural if at all possible. In the hospital one of my friends from elementary school came to visit us. She is a nurse and she used to work in the post partum wing that I was staying in. She asked me about getting any drugs and this is how our conversation went.

Friend: You did it without getting an epidural!?

Me: Yeah!

Friend: So did you just get <insert fancy drug name here> ?

Me: No

Friend: Oh…so you just had the patch <insert another fancy name here> on your thigh?

Me: No

Friend: ..seriously? Just an IV then?

Me: Nope

Friend: What?? Are you for real?? Shan, that’s crazy!

It is a little crazy! Grace decided she wanted to come and I guess she is one determined little girl. There wasn’t time to hook me up to anything! Compared to most women’s labor experiences, I know I am extremely blessed that mine only took seven hours. However, there is that pesky little part of me that still wants to say, “That doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt!!!” It’s true though what every woman says after they give birth. You take one look at your baby and know wholeheartedly that you would do it all over again in a second.

I’m looking forward to sharing my first-time mom adventures with you in the upcoming weeks. One of the highlights of my new life was when I watched (and attempted to help) Seth during Gracie’s “exploding from both ends” fiasco. I’m not sure how much Seth would agree with me, but I thought it was pretty hilarious.  He got poop on his arm and spit up on his shoulder. There was probably some pee on him somewhere too. Classic!

Moms: How long were you in labor? Did you have a "dark place" like me? Or worse, were you also a victim to the Cruciatus Curse? 

Blessings,

Shantastic

Grace hijacked my body!

Grace, my gorgeous baby girl, has arrived! The baby who hijacked my body is finally here!

Those of you who know me on a personal level know that Seth and I were convinced we were having a boy. We just had a "feeling". Most of our family was guessing boy, strangers looked at the shape of my belly and said boy, and one of the times the doctor listened to Grace's heartbeat he said, "sounds like a boy!"

There were things I was looking forward to about having either gender. If we would have had a boy I was excited to dress him up like a superhero and wear "little man suits" on Easter Sunday. For baby girls, there's just something about being able to dress a tiny human in a frilly dress that makes me so happy. The bottom line though was that I just wanted a baby and I was so excited either way. But because I thought we were having a boy I was excited for boy things and thought the little girl things would have to wait until baby number two or possibly never happen at all. When we were in the labor room we told the doctor and nurses we wanted Seth to tell me the gender when baby came out. If I could go back in time and sound record one moment of my life it would be Seth screaming with the most excited, happy, and surprised voice I have ever heard, "IT'S A GIRL!!!" We were both so in shock and so elated that our baby was finally here! She is absolutely perfect. So far, being a mom has surpassed any hope and expectation I had. I look at her and I am speechless.

Yesterday after I was done feeding her, I put her tummy on my chest and just watched her sleep. I ran my finger down her back and felt her tiny backbone, her shoulder blade. My eyes welled up with tears for about the billionth time as I praised God for giving me something so pure and so perfect. All week I had just been thanking God over and over for getting me through the delivery, for blessing us with a healthy baby, and for supportive family and friends. I was in so much awe that God would bless Seth and me with everything we've ever wanted. As I was admiring God's creation that snoozed on my chest, I realized that although God wants me to have a grateful attitude, He also wants me to embrace Him and enjoy Gracie together. I had been so focused on making sure I worship Him as my Creator and the Creator of my daughter, but I finally realized I serve a God who wants not just admiration from me, but a relationship as well. The tears that were pooling in my eyes spilled down my cheeks as I embraced the One who gave me Gracie and allowed myself to experience the joy of His gift together.

I'm saving my labor experience for next week because I need more time to write it all down. So for now I will leave you with some of the ways in which my body is still hijacked because of my beautiful Gracie.

My belly button is no longer "out"
My non-maternirty t-shirts still don't fit...not because of my enormous belly though. they don't fit for a new reason. Breastfeeding moms, do you follow??
I slept for a two hour chunk straight last night for the first time since she was born and when I woke up I felt like a bear waking up from hibernation. Two hours now feels like ten.
Yesterday I got to wear jeans for the first time in over two months. They zipped and I did a little dance!

My belly is significantly smaller but I keep examining it in the mirror and thinking, "Please tell me it's not done shrinking." I am definitely anxious to be back to my pre-baby size someday but I know it will take time.

Seth's parents are staying with us for a few more days and last night they offered to watch Grace if we wanted to go out into the real world together for a little date. We decided even though part of our hearts were screaming, "NEVER WILL WE LEAVE OUR SWEET BABY GIRL!" we knew it's something that would have to be done eventually and who better to leave her with for the first time than with a grandma and grandpa? We went to Target and thought it would be really special if we picked out a little outfit for Gracie now that we know we have a girl. It was so fun being able to focus our attention on who exactly we were shopping for. In the checkout lane I was telling Seth how I think my belly pooch looks like I am about four or five months pregnant and since I'm actually not pregnant I would like it to go away.  He was saying how funny it would be if a stranger asked me how far along I was and how embarassing it would be for them to tell them I had just had a baby. The woman at the check out was this little old Indian woman. She looked at the cute girly dress we had picked out for Grace and then said with a huge smile on her face, "When the baby coming??" I laughed and said, "She came on Monday!" She looked at my belly then back up at me and smiled very sheepishly. I smiled back at her and hoped she knew I wasn't offended. I thought it was hilarious.

I'm looking forward to sharing with everyone how God protected Grace and me during the delivery process. I'll leave you with a little teaser and say that if we had made a couple different choices, things could have been very dangerous for both of us.

I'll also leave you with a photo of Grace's first bath. She cried the entire time and enjoyed cuddling with her daddy afterwards.

Blessings and feeling very blessed myself,
Momma Shan :)