The Heart Moniter that is!
Since my last post I have been admitted to the hospital twice more, (for the same contractions), and just went to my 37 week checkup with my doctor yesterday. I am yet again on my way up there this morning to get the baby turned around. And if I get contractions, all the better because then I could be delivering my child today, and be done with the last two crazy weeks.
Sometimes I wonder just how much strain a person can take? But let me tell you it's still all very exciting! Depsite having had a rough two weeks, I am so chuffed at the possibility of getting induced and having little Rose in our home. It's amazing how your body responds to these things, and even as recent as last night I was in agony, it is now a distant memory and I am rejoicing in a lot of good things that have happened in my little life sphere.
So let me recap a bit of the highlights and lowlights of the weeks.
The lowest part besides me bumping around from one hospital visit to the next, is that I neglected my poor hampster and it has given up the ghost. It's not surprising we forgot about her as so many people have been in my household this last week and we just didnt have the proper instructions to feed/take care of our hampster. What's really heartbreaking is how upset it was for my husband since it was his birthday present a year ago. And how my 18 month old walks around the house going "Hah-haze" repeatedly. This is how she said the hampster's name: Hazel. She really enjoyed that little critter. But this is life, and when you have very little support for taking care of your daughter, it's hard to remmeber to take care of a rodent too.
Anyways, the high points have been finishing my counselling sessions and the amount of good it has done for my relationships with all my family members. I won't go into the gritty details, but, my father's side of the family did inflict some serious personal mental/emotional/physical scars on me, and they needed to be delt with. Now they are and I can't express my gratitude to God for this maricle in my life. I thought I'd be harboring anger and resentment until my last breath about it all.
The other really great news is the bridges that I had so worried I had burned with my mother are actually almost repaired. So not only have I almost completely fixed all past personal problems with my father, but I'm well on my way to having a stress free relationship with my mother! Not only that, she's wanting us to move back to America to help her with business endeavors. Which unfortunatly would take another post entirely to talk about and suss out all the details. So I won't bore you here, but we are seriously considering it.
The other highlight, and the biggest one of course is all the medical good news I'm having about this pregnancy. My Version as stated before is today, Alex is on early Paternity leave, and the arrival of a new child all on it's own is the best news I could have. Even if the version doesnt work, they will schedule me for a last resort c-section on the 7th of december. Because of my other health problems it would be safter for the baby to be delivered this way than breach and vaginal.
So here I am, nervous as anything to go in today, and hoping that if I am admitted it's because I have a little girl in my arms, not because I'm going to go home empty handed. My husband will be on-call all day should I find out I need him to rush up to be part of the delivery. So now it's just a few more hours of "wait and see". Aren't you excited too? :D We're going to have another little baby!
Friday, November 30, 2007
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
Painful Indecisions: "Inny" or "Outty"
The last 48 hours have been like a bizzare rollercoaster ride. Or just a very strange waking dream.
It started with contractions on sunday at 35 weeks pregnant. By monday I had shrugged them off and started getting the house hold ready (cleaning and such) for the baby. Packing my bags for the hospital in the next 4 weeks, and going to a doctors appointment that morning.
It was one of those really terribly cold and miserable mornings, and my mood was all over the place. I didn't feel like writing, the contractions from the day before we're like having a bee next to my ear that wouldn't go away, and I wasn't looking forward to going all the way across town in the rain and cold. It was dark, damp, and gross outside, and all I have in the way of shoes is 2 pairs of sandals, and a pair of ballerina pumps. I opted for the last option, and cleverly found a solution to my problems: Get a bus across town. So I figured out the time I needed to be out there waiting and rushed around getting everything ready.
By the time I got to where I thought the bus stop was, it wasnt there. I asked a few other hurried people if they knew where it was, and the they all seemed to look at me like I was stupid and said it would be faster to walk there. And yes, when you're healthy, not pushing a pram in the rain, and not 35 weeks pregnant with contractions that morning, walking WOULD be easier! However that was not the case for me. In the end I looked up and down the street only to be at a loss for this bus stop, and fearing missing my appointment, I had little choice but to walk. By this time my daughter is screaming, and I'm pretty much soaked through since I can't hold an umbrella and push a pram, and for obvious reasons my coat wouldn't button up.
It really amazed me how someone can be so stupid not to notice a heavily pregnant woman with one child already, and just nochalantly comment with "Why not walk?". The walk to the other side of town, was slow, but I had time since I had planned to take the bus early and wait a half an hour at the clinic. At this point I was hoping to dry out with those 30 extra minutes mostly. Also, the walk is about a mile away, while not uncomfortable in the best of conditions, and usually done within 30 minutes, took me over an hour and 15 minutes, and this was only making it to the middle of town.
I realized at this point something was wrong, because these contractions were getting worse; and making me stop in my tracks to pant. Which was making an already grumpy mummy more miserable. (Try saying that ten times fast!) So with about 10 minutes to get to the clinic left, I was only just now in the middle of town, and I still had a hill to walk up that looked to me to be mount olympus in my condition. So, stubbornly, I tried going up it, and about 100 steps into this process I had to turn back around and go to the taxi rank. While out of my way, it would get me faster to the clinic than I was able to. I had to admit defeat at this point because I didn't want to be late, and I was in a lot of pain, besides I now added a headache to my bad day due to my still screaming child. She really hates water of any sort.
Upon reaching the clinic, my child remained fussy no matter what I did, but I was able to get in to see the doctor and that went fairly smoothly. I got my order for prescription medication I was out of, and I was able to sneak in a quick check of my daughter who had still been sick from a viral infection a few weeks back. We had also just found out my mother-in-law had bronchitis and I was hoping she hadn't passed it along to my child. Anyways, everything checked out, and I feel horrible for that poor doctor as she was such a sweet young woman and I must have seem like the most mean spirited person ever. I just wasn't my normal smiley cheerful self.
Since these contractions at this point resembled real ones, and not braxton-hicks, I decided to head over to the hospital to ask advice of the midwife since it's right next door to where I was anyway. After picking up my prescription, which they told me they didn't have enough in stock of, so they would have to have me come pick it up again tomorrow (WHAT? Another trip to the other side of town in my condition?! UGH!), I headed out even more peeved at my luck today. Upon reaching the maternity ward, they were dealing with the very end of a delivery, and another woman who was in active labor came up behind me as I rang the bell. I just wondered at this point, if the day could get any worse. I really had no idea.
The charge nurse answered, and I squeezed in their tiny office, with a now complacant daughter because she had fallen asleep, thankfully, and told them my situation. Only to be told that I had to wait until the midwife could see me. So after much thumb-twiddling, I was then told I couldn't be seen by the midwife, from the midwife herself because I was only 35 weeks along and they didn't do checks or anything for anyone less than 37 weeks and that I would need to go to Bath in order to make sure I wasn't going into labor, or there wasn't any problems with the baby. Unfortunatly, since I wasn't in active labor, they wouldn't be able to provide an ambulance for me as well. This wasn't even taking into account the fact I have another child to care for and see she gets to the hospital with me!
I Really Needed A Brick Wall to Bang My Head Against Right Then.
Or maybe I could have just screamed bloody murder. But I handle stress well, and I went into action instead of melt-down. I had little choice really but to pull my husband out of work, yet again, for the third time this year to get arrangements for me to go to the hospital. You have to remember I mentioned my mother-in-law with bronchitis. She was going to be useless. And my father-in-law? Well he was on a honeymoon with his soon-to-be wife, in Morroco for another week and a half. I was going to get little help from my husband's family. I called up Alex and told him I'd meet him at home, then I shelled out for another taxi to take me home, promising the midwife that I would go to bath as soon as I possibly could. After reaching home, I just wanted to lay down and sleep, because I was so tired, but my daughter wouldn't go back to sleep and still hadn't eaten anything since 8am, and it was now almost 1pm. At least I didn't have to walk across town to home! I got on my knees at this point just to pray because I really needed to feel calmer about all this. The thought of going to bath when I had been up there and admitted just last month, was the most detestable thing ever. It's not that I wasn't concerned about the health of my child, it was more like, I just hate being away from my family and home.
I really relish my job, my husband, my child, so disrupting that schedule is really hard for me. And as I said my husband had to leave work early to come get me, I couldnt be making him look good at the work place. I was feeling guilty, in pain, hungry and really tired- not to mention wet still. Things seemed to be looking up however with my husband home an hour later, because I was able to unload what had happened so far to him, and try and work out a game plan from here. We couldn't reasonably take Natasha up with us, and yet, Alex wanted to stay with me incase I had the baby, so he couldnt stay to watch natasha. We called upon the lovely people in our church to help, and while they were able to help watch natasha, getting up to Bath was still proving similar to walking to the moon. In the end, we asked our friend from the Military of Defense if he could take off work early to take us up to bath. He wasn't too happy about this, but he was our very last option, and is practically like family to Alex and myself.
Geoff, the surrogate uncle to alex, came to our rescue and we all, including Natasha, went up to bath. I got admitted, and put on moniter, and really calmed down a lot knowing at this point whatever happened, it would be okay. It was not a little past 4 pm, and I was really exhausted. Stress had started to take it's toll, and I just wanted to know if I was having this baby now, or in two weeks from now just to get it over and done with! They consulted with my doctor and decided to just let me labor if it happened since my contractions were regular and see where it went.
After a few hours, my husband went home, and got all the arrangements with natasha figured out, he then continued my efforts of getting the house ready, while I just played the waiting game to see if my contractions got worse/more regular. I did find out I was 35wk 5days along, so if the baby did come it wouldn't be as bad as just turning my 34th week. I stayed in that ward all night long, my husband coming to up to visit around 8-9pm. I had the longest night of my life as well, as at 10 they told me I was exactly 1 cm dialated, and my contractions were getting worse. So it looked as if by morning I might actually start active labor! I stayed up till 4 am due to the contractions, and passed out sitting up, with my glasses on, from 4-7, having not even moved! If that whole ordeal was not enough, the contractions went away by midmorning and getting checked again only proved that I was no longer dialated at all!
(Note to readers: For those uncomfortable with graphic details of birth or the birthing experience please continue after the next two paragraphs.):
I think personally I still am dialated, as I know from my first pregnancy how hard it is to check me. I don't know why that is, but with my first pregnancy the doctor and nurses both joked about it while making my husband turn beat red, because really, the only way it's hard to check, length wise, is if you've naturally becomes shaped that way. I dont think I need to elaborate more on THAT matter! It's still a running joke between me and my husband BTW. And if a woman doctor 6foot something with VERY large hands has a hard time telling if I'm dialated (and she's done this for YEARS) then a short, very small handed, Indian female doctor is not going to have much success.(besides it was VERY painful to have her check, and I know when someone is getting it right by now I hope! IT IS my body!!)
But I have noticed something in the doctoring profession and that is, it's easier to say "no" with something uncertain, than the doctor admitting they can't do it. The first person who checked me used the proper speculum, I still maintain this indian doctor should have as well. She also tried to convince me not to have breech delivery. She really must have thought I was some sort of dinglebat because she was just so rude, and her oppinion was THE oppinion. I really dislike doctors like that, and wish I could have gotten a second, proper, oppinion on if I was dialated because when I joked "I didn't know you could Un-dialate!" they didnt reply, or laugh, and so I really don't think that's possible. But I will reasearch the matter later.
-------------------------------------------------------------
(For those who skipped the last paragraph, You have not missed much of the story, just my personal oppinion on a few matters concerning how pregnancy works, and is not nessecary to the story! :) Please continue from this point onward):
In the end, I was sent home that evening, my contractions irregular as they were on sunday, and told not to do anything strenuous. Like thats possible with a house to maintain and an 18 month old to look after!! But I am back home now, and I've slept loads this evening, even with contractions, it's easier to do that in your own home than at a hospital. And I am really grateful the NHS exists to moniter me and help me, even if I do take some of the doctors oppinions with a grain of salt. When you see that many different doctors in a day, you tend to have to form your own oppinions based on the fact than what the doctors tell you. For me I just rely on the spirit, and the spirit and body tells me, this baby is getting ready for a normal vaginal birth and I am quite happy to let it! So, I have an appointment on the 29th, and tomorrow I am officially 36 weeks pregnant. On the 29th if the baby hasn't turned head down, then they will try to do it for me, and even if it doesnt i'm still going to try and deliver the baby naturally. I feel very strongly this is the right thing to do for my situation, and in no way would I make this choice with out careful spiritual, and physical confirmation. Being told to trust your instincts is one of the best advice out there. And besides my doctor wants me to try and labor it away, and is really supportive, So hopefully it will all go smooth sailing and no more contractions until the ACTUAL birth.
It started with contractions on sunday at 35 weeks pregnant. By monday I had shrugged them off and started getting the house hold ready (cleaning and such) for the baby. Packing my bags for the hospital in the next 4 weeks, and going to a doctors appointment that morning.
It was one of those really terribly cold and miserable mornings, and my mood was all over the place. I didn't feel like writing, the contractions from the day before we're like having a bee next to my ear that wouldn't go away, and I wasn't looking forward to going all the way across town in the rain and cold. It was dark, damp, and gross outside, and all I have in the way of shoes is 2 pairs of sandals, and a pair of ballerina pumps. I opted for the last option, and cleverly found a solution to my problems: Get a bus across town. So I figured out the time I needed to be out there waiting and rushed around getting everything ready.
By the time I got to where I thought the bus stop was, it wasnt there. I asked a few other hurried people if they knew where it was, and the they all seemed to look at me like I was stupid and said it would be faster to walk there. And yes, when you're healthy, not pushing a pram in the rain, and not 35 weeks pregnant with contractions that morning, walking WOULD be easier! However that was not the case for me. In the end I looked up and down the street only to be at a loss for this bus stop, and fearing missing my appointment, I had little choice but to walk. By this time my daughter is screaming, and I'm pretty much soaked through since I can't hold an umbrella and push a pram, and for obvious reasons my coat wouldn't button up.
It really amazed me how someone can be so stupid not to notice a heavily pregnant woman with one child already, and just nochalantly comment with "Why not walk?". The walk to the other side of town, was slow, but I had time since I had planned to take the bus early and wait a half an hour at the clinic. At this point I was hoping to dry out with those 30 extra minutes mostly. Also, the walk is about a mile away, while not uncomfortable in the best of conditions, and usually done within 30 minutes, took me over an hour and 15 minutes, and this was only making it to the middle of town.
I realized at this point something was wrong, because these contractions were getting worse; and making me stop in my tracks to pant. Which was making an already grumpy mummy more miserable. (Try saying that ten times fast!) So with about 10 minutes to get to the clinic left, I was only just now in the middle of town, and I still had a hill to walk up that looked to me to be mount olympus in my condition. So, stubbornly, I tried going up it, and about 100 steps into this process I had to turn back around and go to the taxi rank. While out of my way, it would get me faster to the clinic than I was able to. I had to admit defeat at this point because I didn't want to be late, and I was in a lot of pain, besides I now added a headache to my bad day due to my still screaming child. She really hates water of any sort.
Upon reaching the clinic, my child remained fussy no matter what I did, but I was able to get in to see the doctor and that went fairly smoothly. I got my order for prescription medication I was out of, and I was able to sneak in a quick check of my daughter who had still been sick from a viral infection a few weeks back. We had also just found out my mother-in-law had bronchitis and I was hoping she hadn't passed it along to my child. Anyways, everything checked out, and I feel horrible for that poor doctor as she was such a sweet young woman and I must have seem like the most mean spirited person ever. I just wasn't my normal smiley cheerful self.
Since these contractions at this point resembled real ones, and not braxton-hicks, I decided to head over to the hospital to ask advice of the midwife since it's right next door to where I was anyway. After picking up my prescription, which they told me they didn't have enough in stock of, so they would have to have me come pick it up again tomorrow (WHAT? Another trip to the other side of town in my condition?! UGH!), I headed out even more peeved at my luck today. Upon reaching the maternity ward, they were dealing with the very end of a delivery, and another woman who was in active labor came up behind me as I rang the bell. I just wondered at this point, if the day could get any worse. I really had no idea.
The charge nurse answered, and I squeezed in their tiny office, with a now complacant daughter because she had fallen asleep, thankfully, and told them my situation. Only to be told that I had to wait until the midwife could see me. So after much thumb-twiddling, I was then told I couldn't be seen by the midwife, from the midwife herself because I was only 35 weeks along and they didn't do checks or anything for anyone less than 37 weeks and that I would need to go to Bath in order to make sure I wasn't going into labor, or there wasn't any problems with the baby. Unfortunatly, since I wasn't in active labor, they wouldn't be able to provide an ambulance for me as well. This wasn't even taking into account the fact I have another child to care for and see she gets to the hospital with me!
I Really Needed A Brick Wall to Bang My Head Against Right Then.
Or maybe I could have just screamed bloody murder. But I handle stress well, and I went into action instead of melt-down. I had little choice really but to pull my husband out of work, yet again, for the third time this year to get arrangements for me to go to the hospital. You have to remember I mentioned my mother-in-law with bronchitis. She was going to be useless. And my father-in-law? Well he was on a honeymoon with his soon-to-be wife, in Morroco for another week and a half. I was going to get little help from my husband's family. I called up Alex and told him I'd meet him at home, then I shelled out for another taxi to take me home, promising the midwife that I would go to bath as soon as I possibly could. After reaching home, I just wanted to lay down and sleep, because I was so tired, but my daughter wouldn't go back to sleep and still hadn't eaten anything since 8am, and it was now almost 1pm. At least I didn't have to walk across town to home! I got on my knees at this point just to pray because I really needed to feel calmer about all this. The thought of going to bath when I had been up there and admitted just last month, was the most detestable thing ever. It's not that I wasn't concerned about the health of my child, it was more like, I just hate being away from my family and home.
I really relish my job, my husband, my child, so disrupting that schedule is really hard for me. And as I said my husband had to leave work early to come get me, I couldnt be making him look good at the work place. I was feeling guilty, in pain, hungry and really tired- not to mention wet still. Things seemed to be looking up however with my husband home an hour later, because I was able to unload what had happened so far to him, and try and work out a game plan from here. We couldn't reasonably take Natasha up with us, and yet, Alex wanted to stay with me incase I had the baby, so he couldnt stay to watch natasha. We called upon the lovely people in our church to help, and while they were able to help watch natasha, getting up to Bath was still proving similar to walking to the moon. In the end, we asked our friend from the Military of Defense if he could take off work early to take us up to bath. He wasn't too happy about this, but he was our very last option, and is practically like family to Alex and myself.
Geoff, the surrogate uncle to alex, came to our rescue and we all, including Natasha, went up to bath. I got admitted, and put on moniter, and really calmed down a lot knowing at this point whatever happened, it would be okay. It was not a little past 4 pm, and I was really exhausted. Stress had started to take it's toll, and I just wanted to know if I was having this baby now, or in two weeks from now just to get it over and done with! They consulted with my doctor and decided to just let me labor if it happened since my contractions were regular and see where it went.
After a few hours, my husband went home, and got all the arrangements with natasha figured out, he then continued my efforts of getting the house ready, while I just played the waiting game to see if my contractions got worse/more regular. I did find out I was 35wk 5days along, so if the baby did come it wouldn't be as bad as just turning my 34th week. I stayed in that ward all night long, my husband coming to up to visit around 8-9pm. I had the longest night of my life as well, as at 10 they told me I was exactly 1 cm dialated, and my contractions were getting worse. So it looked as if by morning I might actually start active labor! I stayed up till 4 am due to the contractions, and passed out sitting up, with my glasses on, from 4-7, having not even moved! If that whole ordeal was not enough, the contractions went away by midmorning and getting checked again only proved that I was no longer dialated at all!
(Note to readers: For those uncomfortable with graphic details of birth or the birthing experience please continue after the next two paragraphs.):
I think personally I still am dialated, as I know from my first pregnancy how hard it is to check me. I don't know why that is, but with my first pregnancy the doctor and nurses both joked about it while making my husband turn beat red, because really, the only way it's hard to check, length wise, is if you've naturally becomes shaped that way. I dont think I need to elaborate more on THAT matter! It's still a running joke between me and my husband BTW. And if a woman doctor 6foot something with VERY large hands has a hard time telling if I'm dialated (and she's done this for YEARS) then a short, very small handed, Indian female doctor is not going to have much success.(besides it was VERY painful to have her check, and I know when someone is getting it right by now I hope! IT IS my body!!)
But I have noticed something in the doctoring profession and that is, it's easier to say "no" with something uncertain, than the doctor admitting they can't do it. The first person who checked me used the proper speculum, I still maintain this indian doctor should have as well. She also tried to convince me not to have breech delivery. She really must have thought I was some sort of dinglebat because she was just so rude, and her oppinion was THE oppinion. I really dislike doctors like that, and wish I could have gotten a second, proper, oppinion on if I was dialated because when I joked "I didn't know you could Un-dialate!" they didnt reply, or laugh, and so I really don't think that's possible. But I will reasearch the matter later.
-------------------------------------------------------------
(For those who skipped the last paragraph, You have not missed much of the story, just my personal oppinion on a few matters concerning how pregnancy works, and is not nessecary to the story! :) Please continue from this point onward):
In the end, I was sent home that evening, my contractions irregular as they were on sunday, and told not to do anything strenuous. Like thats possible with a house to maintain and an 18 month old to look after!! But I am back home now, and I've slept loads this evening, even with contractions, it's easier to do that in your own home than at a hospital. And I am really grateful the NHS exists to moniter me and help me, even if I do take some of the doctors oppinions with a grain of salt. When you see that many different doctors in a day, you tend to have to form your own oppinions based on the fact than what the doctors tell you. For me I just rely on the spirit, and the spirit and body tells me, this baby is getting ready for a normal vaginal birth and I am quite happy to let it! So, I have an appointment on the 29th, and tomorrow I am officially 36 weeks pregnant. On the 29th if the baby hasn't turned head down, then they will try to do it for me, and even if it doesnt i'm still going to try and deliver the baby naturally. I feel very strongly this is the right thing to do for my situation, and in no way would I make this choice with out careful spiritual, and physical confirmation. Being told to trust your instincts is one of the best advice out there. And besides my doctor wants me to try and labor it away, and is really supportive, So hopefully it will all go smooth sailing and no more contractions until the ACTUAL birth.
Monday, November 19, 2007
1 'nana, 2 'nana, 3 'nana- four!
Natasha is quickly growing into the smartest little girl I know. Yesterday she wouldn't stop counting everything. "Nana" is her word for Grandma, but it's also her word for banana. She loves picking up items placing them in a certain order and going, one, "t", free, foor, "t". The T stands for two, and she can't really say the other words properly yet, but it's still the most adorable thing I've ever seen.
I really need to get some pictures up to show you all. It's so cute.
Another adorable thing she started saying yesterday was "HelloO" yes, with the extra all important "o". She tends to talk like an american that way, saying things almost like a question at the end all the time. Yesterday she got hooked on it before bed time because I go to: Webcam with my mother.
Who it was shocking to see. I haven't seen her face in almost two years, and the last two years weren't to kind on her features. Suddenly to me, she really looked her age, and then some. The last surgery she had must have been hard to recover from. But the way her eyes sparkled, and how she was so happy to see natasha and myself made me so happy. She really was crying, and it was gorgeous to see her. I wish she were more involved with the church because then she could take comfort that we would all be family together someday.
But for now, instead of worrying about all that, I simply let natasha wave her arms out like a loon, and saying HelloO! Yesterday was a perfect day, with a perfect nights rest, and was exactly what I needed to refill my spiritual and emotional cup.
I really need to get some pictures up to show you all. It's so cute.
Another adorable thing she started saying yesterday was "HelloO" yes, with the extra all important "o". She tends to talk like an american that way, saying things almost like a question at the end all the time. Yesterday she got hooked on it before bed time because I go to: Webcam with my mother.
Who it was shocking to see. I haven't seen her face in almost two years, and the last two years weren't to kind on her features. Suddenly to me, she really looked her age, and then some. The last surgery she had must have been hard to recover from. But the way her eyes sparkled, and how she was so happy to see natasha and myself made me so happy. She really was crying, and it was gorgeous to see her. I wish she were more involved with the church because then she could take comfort that we would all be family together someday.
But for now, instead of worrying about all that, I simply let natasha wave her arms out like a loon, and saying HelloO! Yesterday was a perfect day, with a perfect nights rest, and was exactly what I needed to refill my spiritual and emotional cup.
Saturday, November 17, 2007
Learning the Hard Way
I remember growing up how my mother would always admonish me to put the dirty clothes in the basket instead of the bathroom floor. And each morning for my shower, the clothes, and towels, hair brush, and my brain would be picked up off the floor and put in the laundry basket by my mother.
How entertaining it is to know what it means to be a mother now. I constantly follow after my 18-month-old picking up her items, and teaching her how to sweep, mop, put away, and organize. She loves it, but it's hard to do these things having never really done them before in my life.
In fact over the past five days, I have started to iron for the first time in my life. I'm now sporting 4 battle wounds on my arms that make it look like I intentionally hurt myself, (It Really IS the iron!!) and each attempt to make clothes wrinkleless gets only slightly better.
At least practicing on children clothing is easy.
Why is it that some unknown factor in the universe makes every pregnant woman from about 6 months onward become this nesting cleaning machine. Because for me, if I stay still too long my legs start twitiching and I get the itch to do something! Anything! I've never had such a clean house, in fact, I worry I'll be able to keep it up after the new child is here (or if that's even important! LOL).
But I am learning slowly, the hard way, it's taken almost 3 years for my skills to reach passable, and only just now do I feel like I've left the plateau and headed to higher footing on the homemaking front. This all coming from a woman who cant sew on buttons, who never washed anything by hand, who played most the days of her child hood, and who's only homemaking skill was organization. This from the person who never ironed, never cleaned her own room, and was basically spoilt rotten. It's not like my parents didnt try to teach me! It's more like my brother bailed me out a lot. In fact, the best of my cooking skills before now was french toast.
But now, I'm proud to say I can make a half decent pizza. I can make bread that doesnt fall in the middle, and I only burn myself 50% of the time. I thought becoming a mother entitled you automatically to all the secret knowledge of savvy cleaning know-how. Boy was I wrong! And my poor arms and fingers are showing the battle scars of a girl-woman trying her best to be adult for her children.
I just have to keep asking myself, what's adult again?
How entertaining it is to know what it means to be a mother now. I constantly follow after my 18-month-old picking up her items, and teaching her how to sweep, mop, put away, and organize. She loves it, but it's hard to do these things having never really done them before in my life.
In fact over the past five days, I have started to iron for the first time in my life. I'm now sporting 4 battle wounds on my arms that make it look like I intentionally hurt myself, (It Really IS the iron!!) and each attempt to make clothes wrinkleless gets only slightly better.
At least practicing on children clothing is easy.
Why is it that some unknown factor in the universe makes every pregnant woman from about 6 months onward become this nesting cleaning machine. Because for me, if I stay still too long my legs start twitiching and I get the itch to do something! Anything! I've never had such a clean house, in fact, I worry I'll be able to keep it up after the new child is here (or if that's even important! LOL).
But I am learning slowly, the hard way, it's taken almost 3 years for my skills to reach passable, and only just now do I feel like I've left the plateau and headed to higher footing on the homemaking front. This all coming from a woman who cant sew on buttons, who never washed anything by hand, who played most the days of her child hood, and who's only homemaking skill was organization. This from the person who never ironed, never cleaned her own room, and was basically spoilt rotten. It's not like my parents didnt try to teach me! It's more like my brother bailed me out a lot. In fact, the best of my cooking skills before now was french toast.
But now, I'm proud to say I can make a half decent pizza. I can make bread that doesnt fall in the middle, and I only burn myself 50% of the time. I thought becoming a mother entitled you automatically to all the secret knowledge of savvy cleaning know-how. Boy was I wrong! And my poor arms and fingers are showing the battle scars of a girl-woman trying her best to be adult for her children.
I just have to keep asking myself, what's adult again?
Monday, November 12, 2007
Journal,
I've been neglecting you latly in favor of livejournal. I know, I'm a traitor. But never fear, I am back and ready to type my way into action. I've been lurking around other journals, but I just haven't felt like posting here. I am not sure why, maybe because I've been talking to my family a lot on the phone and havent felt to update everyone here.
But things have been happening, and mostly on a personal level. I feel like i've raised myself to a new standard for happiness. Alex and I for sometime now have done scriptures and prayers nightly, now we've extended that to personal prayer/scripture time, and I've even pursued this in the morning as well.
I am doing www.flylady.com, to help me become organized with day to day things, and I'm really enjoying trying to push myself. I had a sort of ephifany recently, and If you're interested, it has to do with lovely Alma, chapter 7. Everything in there seems to apply to me right now, and I especially loves how it alks about in verse 23 of being humble and submissive.
Yesterday I got a phone call from both my mother and father on the same thing: We jsut bought a webcam and want to talk to you on it. Strangly enough I had similar reactions to both. Shock and weirdness. I dont know about you, but I feel like a whale right now at the end of pregnancy and anything but all togther. I wonder what Dad looks like? Anyways, I'm going forward with this because I love my parents. Both of them. Even if it's a bit scary for me haha. (much more scary about my dad than my mom...really strange that it happened on the same day however!!)
Anyways, I must away now journal, as life goes on and my time to write is limited. I will soon catch you up on more things as I try and evolve into the best mummy and wife I can be.
I've been neglecting you latly in favor of livejournal. I know, I'm a traitor. But never fear, I am back and ready to type my way into action. I've been lurking around other journals, but I just haven't felt like posting here. I am not sure why, maybe because I've been talking to my family a lot on the phone and havent felt to update everyone here.
But things have been happening, and mostly on a personal level. I feel like i've raised myself to a new standard for happiness. Alex and I for sometime now have done scriptures and prayers nightly, now we've extended that to personal prayer/scripture time, and I've even pursued this in the morning as well.
I am doing www.flylady.com, to help me become organized with day to day things, and I'm really enjoying trying to push myself. I had a sort of ephifany recently, and If you're interested, it has to do with lovely Alma, chapter 7. Everything in there seems to apply to me right now, and I especially loves how it alks about in verse 23 of being humble and submissive.
Yesterday I got a phone call from both my mother and father on the same thing: We jsut bought a webcam and want to talk to you on it. Strangly enough I had similar reactions to both. Shock and weirdness. I dont know about you, but I feel like a whale right now at the end of pregnancy and anything but all togther. I wonder what Dad looks like? Anyways, I'm going forward with this because I love my parents. Both of them. Even if it's a bit scary for me haha. (much more scary about my dad than my mom...really strange that it happened on the same day however!!)
Anyways, I must away now journal, as life goes on and my time to write is limited. I will soon catch you up on more things as I try and evolve into the best mummy and wife I can be.
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