I'm getting OLD.

Last Wednesday I went back to my old high school for my sister's induction into National Honors Society.  First off, am I the only one who thinks this group is some sort of cult?  Anyway.  I was sitting in the remodeled school's indoor courtyard (it used to be an outside courtyard when I attended York) and I had some crazy flashbacks to my high school days.  I could picture myself walking through the courtyard in between classes just to feel the sun on my face for a whole 35 seconds.  Then I did some quick calculations and realized I was a freshman 16 freaking years ago!  Holy CRAP!  I remember it like it was yesterday.  For a good 20 minutes I started panicking.  Where has the time gone?!  What have I done with my life?!  Why am I so fat now?  Why am I soooo old?!  I instantly wanted to be transported back to high school, and relive my carefree days.  But then I remembered my adorable kids at home, and decided that I am one lucky mama.  I'd still give anything to be a size 2 again though.  Ohhhh a girl can dream, right?!

17 year old Betsy.

Then last night we hit up my old favorite bar, Docs.  I have had some of my very favorite (crazy, drunken) nights at Docs.  I was excited to go back and make some more crazy memories.  But instead I had 3 drinks (in 5 hours), yawned the entire time, got annoyed that I had to scream over the music to have conversations, and ended up leaving by 12:30.  It was a nice evening...I liked hanging out with my friends and siblings, but I seriously kept looking at my phone thinking...Brevin is going to be up in 5 hours.  4 hours.  3 hours.  OH GOD I'M SO TIRED!  There was no dancing.  No shots.  No trying to score free drinks (hahaha as if I really could in my current condition!).  No crazy pictures.  No falls.  No plans to find something to do after hours.  All I wanted to do was SLEEP!  Yeah.  Childless Betsy would sleep until 12 or later after a night at the bar.  Current Betsy does not have that luxury.  Damn those kids of mine for needing me in the mornings ;)

Carefree Betsy after a night at Docs.  Ohhhh to be young again!

So yeah.  I'm starting to feel old.  I even woke up with a headache this morning from 3 drinks.  Pathetic.  I told myself 30 was going to be the best year ever.  So maybe I should try to at least squeeze 1 crazy drunken night in before I turn 31...just to prove that I'm not that old...

We'll see. 

Old Betsy. 

Breastfeeding Bust.

Ohhh man.  Poor Brevin was only breastfed for a week before I gave up.  Have I mentioned that I hate breastfeeding?  Oh yeah.  I did. 

Prior to giving birth, I really wanted to make breastfeeding work.  I was even *gasp* excited for it.  But the minute my little man was latched on to my boob, I remembered how much I disliked it.  I toughed through that first week, supplementing a little formula here and there, mainly to keep me sane...and then I gave up.  I pumped a few times a day for the following week to give my little man a few ounces of boob milk, but made a clean cut after my bought of mastitis cleared up.  I was DONE.  The minute I switched over to bottles I had a huge sense of relief.  Freedom!  I had felt like such a prisoner...always breastfeeding or pumping.  Ugh.  I hated it. 

I feel a bit guilty for giving up so quickly...I mean...I at least made it to 5 weeks with Isla (along with supplementing formula)!  But whatevs. 

Happy mama = happy baby. 

And he is seriously one happy baby!

Phew!

No prolapse!

Things got stitched up wrong leaving me with an extra skin chunk where no one would want one...  UGH.  The good news is that it is totally fixable...they just cut it off.  The bad news is that it means more stitches for me in an area where no one should have stitches. 

So freaking annoying!  But, whatevs.  It could be worse. 

In other disturbing Betsy news, my stomach has taken another beating.  Remember when I posted postpartum belly pictures on my old blog after Isla?  Well, things have gotten MUCH WORSE.  Much.  My flesh fanny pack is heading south...fast.  It's so disgusting.  I can't even post pictures of this hot mess.  So as soon as I'm cleared for working out, I will be hitting the gym hardcore and watching what I eat.  But, because the skin is already hanging, it's going to be pretty  hard to eliminate.  Tummy tuck research is already in the works.  Provided we have the finances, I hope to get it done within a year. 

It's going to take a while for me to feel normal and look normal.  It's all a bit frustrating, really.  I don't feel like myself, and it is driving me nuts!

So yeah.  That's what's up with me!  30 is going to be the year I take me body back.  Can't wait!

Frankencrotch.

If Frankenstein had a vag, I can only assume it would like like mine.  Dealing with a busted up crotch is not fun.  It's been 4 weeks and I can't even sit on any surface that is not cushioned.  No chairs.  No benches.  No hardwood floor.  Ugh.  It's so frustrating.  I didn't even have the nerve to look down there for 3 weeks!  It appears the stitches are healing okay, but I've got another issue.  I called the nurse regarding some issues...and let's just say the words VAGINAL PROLAPSE came out of her mouth and she scheduled me for an appointment on Wednesday.  GREAT!  So now my crotch is literally FALLING APART?!?!?!  I am so uncomfortable.  I can't walk without feeling like something is stuck in my crotch.  I was hoping that things were just swollen in there.  But after taking a quick peak...I don't think things are where they should be.  I actually Googled: "What should the opening of a vagina look like?"  Yeah.  Don't do that.  Regret!   I'm obviously hoping I do not have a prolapse...but something isn't right.  I'm dreading my appointment on Wednesday.  Blah.  Keep my crotch in your prayers.  Just kidding.  Unless you like praying about other people's private parts.  Then go for it!

So let's review:

C-Section:  2 week recovery.  The first week really sucked.  After 2 weeks I was feeling good.  Sleeping on my sides and stomach hurt for a while, but it was tolerable.  I missed the first 2 hours of Isla's life because I was in recovery. 

VBAC:  Third degree tear, lost asshole control for a week and nearly pooped my pants multiple times, farted uncontrollably, possible vaginal prolapse from all of the pushing, 4 weeks postpartum and I'm STILL IN PAIN.  I did get to hold my little man immediately after birth...but he was taken from me right away so I could get stitched up for 45 minutes. 


Let's just say I may never have sex again. 

It's pretty much been determined that my pelvis is tilted in a way that makes it difficult for a baby to get out.  Both Isla and Brevin had major cone heads and they both had a very tough time making their way down.  Both of them were positioned funny.  Brevin was posterior, and I'm not sure if Isla was or not...but Isla had torticollis and Brevin appears to also have it (although undiagnosed yet).  In both births, my body was VERY slow to dilate.  Clearly, my body has some issues.  Not cool!

So yeah.  Brevin is my last baby.  I'm cherishing every snuggly moment and trying my hardest not to bite his yummy newborn cheeks off.  The more time I spend with my little man, the less time I spend worrying about my Frankencrotch. 

PS:  I will try really hard not to include the words:  vag, crotch, and asshole in any further posts.

Brevin's Birth Story

*Caution:  Read at your own risk.  My language is totally inappropriate at times :)

Other titles I considered:

1. ....and then my vagina almost exploded.
2. "WHY IS NO ONE LISTENING TO ME?!"
3. "I want a C-Section NOW!"
4. "Guys, seriously.  I know I'm pooping."
5. "What just happened to my butthole?"
6. "STOP!!!  My hip has been DISLOCATED!!!"
7. "I DON'T WANT TO DO THIS ANYMORE."
8. "When you are done with me,  you can sew up Andy's butt too."

I don't know where to start!  Brevin's birth was one crazy event that I'm still processing.  It was intense, exhausting, painful, scary, and amazing.  His birth was so different from Isla's.  I would classify Isla's birth as pretty uneventful.  I slept most of the day from my super powerful epidural, never felt one real contraction, never fully dilated, never pushed, and ended up with a c-section.  Looking back on it, it wasn't that bad.  Not quite sure why I decided to VBAC at the moment...but I'm sure I'll remember eventually :)  Anyway, on with the story...

Brevin was due on Friday September 23rd.  That morning I started having very mild contractions every 4-7 minutes.  I was SUPER excited and hopeful that I would be going into labor on my due date!  Of course, I wasn't that lucky.  After 26 hours or so, the contractions stopped.  Over the weekend I continued to have false labor, but it seemed my little man was perfectly content to stay put as long as possible.  When I woke up Monday morning still pregnant, I was pretty salty.  I decided I was going to try everything I could to get labor started.  Let's just say I had a busy day.  I went to bed that night without any contractions or any signs that labor would be starting.

I woke up Tuesday morning (the 27th) with some mild contractions and knew right away that I was in labor.  I was telling people that I'd be giving birth on the 27th, long before the day arrived...and somehow I just knew it would be happening.  So I texted my Doula, jumped in the shower, and tried to keep my mind off of the contractions.  After about 2 hours of being awake, my contractions started happening 2-4 minutes apart, lasting anywhere from 1 min to 90 seconds.  I got uncomfortable pretty fast, and called my dad to come and get Isla.  My Doula arrived at my house and helped me get through contractions.  We headed to the hospital when I was having a tough time talking through contractions.  At my previous doctor's appointment (almost a week prior) I was dilated to 3cm.  I was hoping when I arrived I'd be at 5...I mean, all of that false labor, plus the laboring at home had to have done something big, right?! 

Holy belly!  40 weeks and 5 days!

Wrong.  Well, kinda.  I was 3-4cm.  Fully effaced though, which was progress.  The doctor didn't want to admit me yet, but they did let me put my stuff in a room (1 of the 2 rooms with an awesome jacuzzi!) so at least I had a room secured.  I walked the halls for about 45 mins?  I'm not sure.  Time gets fuzzy when you are in pain.  Contractions were happening every 2 minutes.  I could hear the nurses talking about how the doctor better admit me soon since I was clearly in pain and in labor. 

Once I was admitted and checked again, I was still at 4cm!  Do you know how frustrating that was?!?!  UGH.  So I jumped in the jacuzzi for a while, but it was hard to get comfortable with the IV in place and the monitor on my stomach.  I labored in there for about 45 minutes before demanding an epidural.  I had wanted to make it to 5cm before getting one, but I was done with the pain.  At this point Brevin was at a -1 station, which is farther down that Isla got, so I felt it was okay to get an epidural since he seemed to be moving down on his own.

It took 2 attempts before the epidural was in place.  The epidural helped to take the edge off but I was still uncomfortable and in pain.  I thought this was normal though, and just dealt with it.  I dealt with it for a VERY long time though.  After many hours of labor I was checked again and STILL AT 4cm!  At this point I totally burst into tears.  Thank goodness I had an amazing, encouraging Doula who helped me labor in different positions to bring the baby down.  Even with the epidural I was able to be on my hands and knees and in a squatting position.  I still hadn't made very much progress so I asked for anything to take the edge off.  I figured if I could just lay and relax, my body would dilate.  I don't remember what they gave me in my IV but it made me loopy and I felt okay for a while.  A while after this I was dilated to a 5.  This was all around 7pm Tuesday night (I was admitted around noon).  I think the doctor was starting to get concerned about my lack of progress.  Getting worried that I'd be forced into a C-Section, I requested a new epidural in hopes of being able to fully relax.  SUCCESS! 

Apparently the first epidural didn't fully take, but the 2nd one felt much better.  I was able to get a few hours of sleep in before waking up to excruciating hip pain.  The pain was HORRIBLE and I couldn't do anything about it!  From then on it was impossible to get comfortable.  I felt it more each time I had a contraction.  At that point, there was some concern about Brevin's position, and the doctor finally determined his face was sideways (?) I think.  I was so damn tired I couldn't think straight.  At this point I was 9cm so my doctor broke my water and I was put in every position possible to encourage Brevin to turn. 

Everything is a little fuzzy at this point.  I know there was lots of barfing.  I started doubting my sanity and my ability to continue.  I definitely asked for a C-Section at this point.  Everyone told me no though, and I was getting increasingly frustrated and physically/emotionally drained. 

Finally.  10 cm!  Brevin was still at a -1 station but it was time to start pushing.  This was 11am on Wednesday morning.  30 hours into labor.  My epidural had pretty much worn off, but everyone said I couldn't have another one.  I was excited that I had made if farther than I did with Isla.  I was winning!  My body was doing its' job!  Woo!

,

Okay...pushing.  I felt everything.  It sucked.  Plus the hip pain was so terrible that I could barely comprehend what was happening.  I totally started pooping right away.  Everyone told me I wasn't...but I could totally feel it.  And smell it.  Sick.  Oh well.  At least it wasn't explosive diarrhea.  The doctor came in around 12 and stayed with me during a lot of the pushing.  I was constantly rotated between 4 positions...2 on my back, and then laying on each side.  I just wanted to lay on my back and push...I was so angry about all of the moving.  Eventually, things started getting pretty horrible.  I was screaming all sorts of crazy things...that I couldn't do it anymore.  That I wanted a C-Section immediately.  That my hip was dislocated.  That I just wanted to stop.  It's amazing what a weird state of mind I was in.  Everyone kept telling me there was no turning back.  I had to keep going.  At that point I demanded my gown be taken off because I felt like I was smothering.  So I had essentially become a naked jungle woman giving birth.  At least that's what I felt like.  I kept telling myself in my head that I didn't want a C-Section and that I just had to just keep going.  (Naked jungle woman = no appropriate pictures of the pushing phase.)

My contractions were a minute apart...no time to rest really.  The whole labor they averaged 2 minutes apart.  Can you imagine??  33 hours of labor with contractions 2 minutes apart?!  I'm so surprised my uterus didn't rupture.

Anyway.  Finally I started pushing like I never knew I could.  I would push and the forcefulness would make me repeatedly gag/dry heave.  The sounds I was making were completely not human, and I was truly in another world.  The doctor left the room for a few moments and after one giant push Brevin was right there.  The nurse ran out of the room to get the doctor, and I was told not to push even though that's obviously all I wanted to do.  Andy and the doctor quickly put on scrubs (Andy got to help deliver) and it was time to get Brevin OUT! 

After a few more rounds of pushing there was suddenly commotion.  I had no clue what was happening.  The doctor announced "OB emergency", the nurse hit a button, a light started flashing and a siren went off (again, I think there was a siren...I was seriously so out of it, I may have made that up).  Andy had to step aside as a team of people literally ran into the room faster than I've ever seen.  At this point I'm hysterical and everyone is just yelling at me to push as hard as I could without stopping.  I had 2 people on each leg pushing it down, Andy said a nurse was evening pushing on my stomach?  It was terrifying.  Brevin was born about 30 seconds later without complication, but his shoulder had gotten stuck in my pelvis, which obviously could have been a big problem.  Crisis averted, thank God!

Brevin was born at 2:21 pm and he was just the cutest little man!  I held him for a while before I needed to be stitched up.  Due to Brevin's forceful exit into the world, and pushing while laying on my back, I tore like you wouldn't believe.  I tore up the front and back through part of my asshole.  Thank GOD the tear didn't extend all the way through.  All of the tearing took 45 minutes to repair.  It was awful.  Andy was holding Brevin and reveling in the joy of our new baby, and I was getting my ass sewn up.  Not cool.  I even told the doctor he needed to sew up Andy's butthole next.  Yep.  I'm classy like that. 

At the end of it all, I was thrilled to have gotten my VBAC and so proud of myself for the marathon that I had just endured.  I would have never thought I had that in me.  Seriously.  It was so intense.  There were so many times I wanted to give up and just demand a C-Section, but I would have totally regretted laboring for that long and then giving up.  I am pretty positive I would have ended up with a C-Section had it not been for my incredible Doula and amazing nurse.  They are the ones I remember by my side.  They kept me going when I didn't think I had it in me.  I feel incredibly lucky to have been surrounded by such great people during Brevin's birth. 

My little man was totally worth all of the exhaustion, pain, and stitches.

8lbs 12 oz 20.5 inches!  Just a tiny bit bigger than his sister...

Welcome to the world Brevin!  You are truly the sweetest, most perfect baby.  I love you tons!

Guilt.

A few months back I wrote a post about how I was struggling with the thought of having a boy.  I am actually quite shocked that I felt that way, and am starting to realize that I was in some sort of major funk for a few months.  I'm blaming it all on hormones.  Sorry Brevin!  You have been wanted and loved all along!!

Anyway!  As much as I miss pink things and pretty outfits, I'm SUPER excited to be having a boy!  One of each seems to be a perfect balance.  Plus I know how much Andy really wanted a son.  Isla has turned out to be a girly girl...exactly what I had wished for.  I'm pretty sure dance lessons are right around the corner.  She often calls me into a room and says "Mommy, look!  I dancing!"  And she proceeds to do a little dance routine for me.  Add that to her love of shopping and dressing up, and I'd say I have my little clone!  Now it's Andy's turn to experience that with his son.  I know he has great hopes for Brevin to be very involved in sports and he can't wait to do "boy" things with him.  I would hate for Andy to miss out on that experience.  It's an amazing feeling to watch your child love to do something that you love doing.  I'm quite positive that my heart may explode from happiness the day Isla has her first dance recital.  (She can start dancing when she turns 3!)

So seriously...best of both worlds!  I'm getting so anxious and excited to meet my little man!  Who will he look like?  Will he have blonde hair?  Will his cheeks be as chubby and kissable as Isla's?  Will he be a good sleeper like his sister?  So many things I am dying to know!

22 more days....

Woo!

Looking Back

I just went back to my old blog and read every single post I had written while I was pregnant.  It was fun looking back on my pregnancy with Isla.  I sort of forgot how lazy I was during June and July of 2009.  I remember being tired, but GOOD GOD, I took laziness to an extreme.  Thankfully I haven't been that tired this time around.  I've surprisingly managed to maintain a good amount of energy on most days.  I certainly have days where I feel like my eyes are bleeding and a nap is completely necessary, but most days I function like a normal person and don't need to get 15 hours of sleep as I apparently needed with Isla.

I do feel slightly guilty that I haven't blogged much about my current pregnancy.  I'm going to try and make up for lost time in my final weeks...

So, let's jump back to when I found out I was pregnant!!

Andy and I had been trying to get pregnant on and off for maybe 5 months?  It wasn't a ridiculous amount of trying, and some months we tried much more than others.  In true Betsy fashion, we ended up getting pregnant during one of our "lazy" (ie: 2 baby-making session) months.  Anyway, the end of January rolls around, and just like I had done the previous months, I go out and buy a ridiculous amount of pregnancy tests.  My period was due on a Friday.  I started testing on the Wednesday before. Wednesday?  Negative.  Thursday?  Negative.  Friday?  NEGATIVE.  UGHHH!  Friday comes and goes with no period though.  Interesting.  Saturday?  NEGATIVE.  WHAT THE HECK MAN?!!?  Now I'm starting to get salty.  Sunday??  BIG NEGATIVE.  Still no period.  GRRRR.  I was starting to get discouraged.  Then, Sunday night as I rolled over in bed I felt a weird stretching pain in my stomach.  It was at that moment I absolutely was sure I was pregnant.  Monday morning rolls around and I finally got my positive test!  Success! :)  Thank goodness!!!  I was spending so much money on those damn tests we were about to be homeless ;)  Seriously, in one month I spent $60 on pregnancy tests.  Ridiculous. 

I was happy that I hadn't consumed mass quantities of tequila while unknowingly pregnant.  I was also happy that we would be moving into a house big enough to accommodate our growing family.  The pregnancy came at a perfect time for us, and we were thrilled with how everything was working out!