Another birth story...this one's Jack's

Rewind to 4 (almost 5) years ago. I had birthed Avi unmedicated using Curtis Method Hypnobirthing. It was the most awe-inspiring 15 hours of my life. I knew that if Doug convinced me to have another kid, this would be the route I would go again and I would do it even more prepared and better. Feeling an overwhelming sense of accomplishment and connection with Avi while I birthed her was incredible. She literally smiled at me minutes after being born. I took this as a “Job well done mama.” And it made everything completely worth it.

Fast forward to December 2018 when the pregnancy test for Jack was positive. I was nervous, because the thought of three kids terrified me. BUT, I was looking forward to another unmedicated, totally present birthing experience. Doug and I took the classes over again to refresh our determination and knowledge. We took the classes when I wasn’t as far along so I could practice the meditations and breathing techniques more in depth. I was prepared, I was excited, I was so so so looking forward to birthing Jack and feeling that teamwork and connection again. Which is why, when it didn’t go down this way, it was hard for me to feel ok. Even though everything, in the end, turned out ok.

My due date was September 5^th. I went in for my 40 week apt and they had me sign up for a non-stress test the next morning on the 6th. This was normal for me, Dray and Avi both went way over their due dates. My “womb service” is either really great or my kids like to be in tight cramped spaces. Anyway, to my surprise the non-stress test did not go well and they sent me to the hospital for further monitoring. 4 hours later they were telling me I needed to break my water and get this baby here. Jack was having random heart decels and they weren’t sure why. He was recovering well from them, but they were worried he would be too exhausted from them to go through labor if I waited for labor to start naturally. But it was my choice. I could leave or stay, my choice. Talking it through with my mom, Doug’s mom, and Doug, it still very much felt like my choice. And that terrifies me. I decided to just move forward with breaking my water. Since this was definitely not in the plan I had for my birth, everything from this moment on didn’t feel real. It honestly kind of felt like an out of body experience. About 5 minutes after they broke my water, which was NOT pleasant and not easy, Jack’s heart rate plummeted. Alarms began to sound and people began to rush in. Everything was even blurrier from that point on for me. A nurse jumped on the bed and put her hand up me to find Jack’s head and get it off of his umbilical cord and there she stayed as they rolled me away to an operating room for the doctor to perform a crash c-section. A prolapsed cord delivery happens 1 in every 500 births (I googled it later). And it was happening to me. They immediately prepped me for a c-section with lightning speed. It was terrifying. I was hearing heart rate numbers being shouted out, I was handed something to drink that was supposed to do something (I couldn’t tell you what that was or what it was for, it was gross though), a catheter being put in fast, hurried and worried faces of nurses surrounding me and a doctor I’d never met yelling for them to get me in the OR and to hurry. I remember my mom kissing my head as they rolled me out. I remember I was freezing and shaking from adrenaline. As the nurses started to gag me so they could put a breathing tube in the second I fell asleep, I thought Jack was gone. He was going to die and it was my fault. I chose to break my water, it’s my fault. And I didn’t even know it was Jack. The gender was a surprise. I didn’t know who I was losing but I was sure I had lost them.

When I came out of it, I was crying and gasping for breath. The nurses told me to take deep breathes and that since I had a breathing tube in, my throat might hurt. I didn’t care about that, all I could think about was what happened to the baby. With a scratchy breath I asked if the baby had made it. They said “Oh! He is doing great.” I was first surprised it was a boy, I had been feeling like it was a girl. My relief was potent but my worry never left me. I carried it with me the next 4 days of recovery in the hospital. I carried it with me even though Jack was here and healthy. Up until a couple weeks ago I was still carrying worry from that delivery. Does he have cerebral palsy because his cord was compromised? Will that surface eventually? Are his stomach issues from the trauma? So many worrying thoughts and guilty feelings have been circulating through my head ever since that day.

My mind was stuck in worry for Jack and having a hard time getting back to normal. There were a lot of tears shed by me and sweet Jack. Later, I realized I was definitely dealing with some post-partum anxiety.  He has reflux and tummy issues and I had been trying everything to help him. No dairy, no acidic foods, no sugar, goats milk, formula, etc. In one week, I had gone to a chiropractor, his pediatrician, and a lactation specialist to help me figure out why my breastmilk seems to be bugging Jack’s tummy and what I should do about it. I got conflicting advice from all three of those people and my head was spinning. Should I do formula? Goat’s milk? What’s wrong with my milk? Why does he seem to hurt when I feed him my milk? What was I doing wrong? In that same week, Doug was out of town and I was overwhelmed with the head spinning, complete lack of sleep, and my older kids testing their boundaries as kids do. This led to a complete breakdown. I told my kids to leave the house and find someone to play with before I did or said something to them I would regret. And then I sat there on the couch nursing Jack and sobbed. He was spitting up a lot more that day than usual and was especially bugged and couldn’t nap for longer than ten minutes without waking up uncomfortable and crying. So I sat there, wondering what I did to cause his pain and wondering if me nursing him even in that moment was good for him or not and cried and cried. Thankfully, my kids had ended up at my friend Tori’s house. She texted me to let me know they were there and could play. I informed her that I was in a bit of a break down and she insisted they stay for dinner too. *If you’re reading this Tori, thank you again for your help that night. It made all the difference. While they were gone my bishop and another ward friend were able to come to my house and give Jack and I a blessing. Because for some brain foggy (post-partum anxiety) reason I hadn’t thought of doing this until 2 months had gone by and I was falling apart. Even though it had been suggested to me numerous times, I had put it off.

Jack was happy and quiet through both blessings which in and of itself was a small miracle with how he had been feeling just an hour earlier. I on the other hand cried like a baby through the whole thing. It’s amazing to me how I am capable of forgetting how well blessings can calm my soul down. I have received many in my life, each time feeling peace after. How had I not gotten one sooner? Would have saved myself and all the people around me a lot less worry. Cause trust me, all I’d been able to think and talk about with my friends and family was Jack and his tummy issues.  I’m sure I was an exhausting human to be around. But there it was. The peace I had been searching for. And I realized something. Those past two months, I had been trying to find peace, healing, and answers for Jack and me through everyone around me. When really, the one who knows Jack and me the very most and can lead me to exactly what we need is my heavenly parents. And I, as his mother, can figure out and have peace with my decisions with His help. Once this realization hit me, I was able to calm down quite a bit. I remembered that as a mother, I have the powers of heaven at my fingertips to help raise and nurture my children. I can trust myself with Heavenly Father’s help.

The day Jack was born I had to make decisions and they felt big and they felt heavy. I didn’t consult with my Heavenly Father that day. I’m not saying things would have been different if I had, but I’m sure I would have felt more peace, more confidence, and less anxiety and guilt about what all went down if I had.

But let’s talk about the good. Because SO much good came from this whole experience for me. First, I am so so so grateful for Sadie, the nurse who sprang into action and helped keep Jack breathing. To all of the nurses and to the doctor who rushed in and knew exactly what to do and how to do it quickly, I owe them everything! Without them, Jack would either not be here or be here with a lot of problems.

Second, the night Jack’s birth all went down our friend’s, the Elswood family, took our kids into their home for dinner and to stay the night with them without hesitation. And I, for not one second, had to worry about their well-being. Jayne, Jeremy, Cake, Parker, and Jessie (and Elder Elswood too of course) have always been and continue to be such amazing friends to our family and are so great with our kids. It was such a relief for me to know they were safe and having a blast with friends.

Third, I have the best loving friends and family!! The evening I came home from the hospital I was in A TON of pain. Like…how could they possibly be discharging me when I was feeling this kind of pain. I thought my kidney was failing or that something went wrong during surgery and they had left something they shouldn’t have in me. I was texting my friend Haley and she informed me that I just needed to poop and I’d feel better. Constipation people. It’s no joke. It was so bad. She rushed over to my house with milk of magnesia and a belly band to help me with recovery. In the meantime, my other friend Tori had run to Smith’s and was buying me a fleet enema. Everyone who knows me knows I don’t mind talking about poop but to spare y’all the dirty details I’ll just say that 20 or so minutes after drinking the Milk of Magnesia there was a bathroom break and I felt like I could run a marathon after. Seriously, I felt so good that I didn’t even need to take any of the proscribed pain meds I was sent home with. Before all of this was happening, my other friend Suzanna came by with a baby gift and a breast pump for me to KEEP because I had realized our Health Share “insurance” wasn’t going to be providing us with one. I had reached out asking friends if I could borrow one for a few nights and she GAVE me hers. It was a really nice one too. Incredibly generous of her!! I also had dinner brought to me and my family by another family in our ward. I was overwhelmed by all the love and support I felt that night.

Over the next few weeks of recovery, I received TONS of meals from family’s in my ward. My mom and Doug’s mom were there to help with meals and all three kids. My kids were whisked away to play and be entertained and helped with homework by friends and some of the young women I serve with. My husband was home for a week and took very good care of me. Carpools to and from school were taken care of by my friends as well. My mom stayed overnight when Doug left out of town to put Jack back to sleep after every feeding so I could sleep. And then when she went home, packages from Amazon would continually show up on my doorstep with anything I expressed a need for and gifts for my other two kiddos and Jack from her. I received countless texts, gifts, and encouragement from those around me. My sweet neighbor who does body and energy work was even helping me talk through the traumatic birthing experience so my mind could heal as well as my body.

The break down I had was imminent. I’m glad for it though. I didn’t want that birth experience for me and Jack. I was angry and devastated for a long time. BUT, the outcome I have finally come to realize through my Heavenly Father’s guidance, is that we cannot control everything that happens to us or our kids. And that is ok. I just need to do my best. I as a Mother to Dray, Avi, and Jack, I just need to do the best I can and stay close to my Heavenly Parents. If I do that, come what may, it will be ok. I had forgotten that. And since I am human, I am sure to forget it again. This was a huge reminder for me though. I was also reminded how blessed I am to have such incredible support from all my family and friends. So many people have done so many things for me and Jack. So many prayers and acts of service offered in our behalf. A million thank you’s to all of you who helped then and continue to help me now. The newborn phase is harder when you have two other kids to care for and are totally sleep deprived. Jack is still not sleeping great, but I am in a much better place and through the powers we receive from heaven as mothers, I manage to make it through each day on fumes. I have some of the greatest group of friends and family supporting, empathizing, sympathizing, serving, and being patient with my crazy kids currently. Dray and Avi have had to put up with a pretty tired and distracted mama lately. But they surprise me every day with immense thoughtfulness (sprinkled amongst the totally normal boundary testing assholery -probably brought on from the focus being turned to a baby and less on them).

Mine and Jack’s birth story was not like Dray’s or Avi’s, and that’s ok. Also, I recognize that countless other mom’s have gone through worse. I am super blessed with the outcome we got. Some may consider me to be a tad dramatic being so sensitive and upset about not getting to birth naturally again. But it was something I was passionate about, and it felt like a heavy loss. As my wise friend Janelle reminded me, I am allowed to grieve for the birth I had planned on and didn’t get.

Doug and I weren’t totally on the same page for Jack’s middle name going into the birth. But I always knew it would be Stark. Yes, it is after Tony Stark. Maybe that’s why his birth had to be a tad dramatic ;) But I love heroes. I love what they stand for. As Iron Man himself said, “Heroes are made by the paths they choose, not by the powers they are graced with.” It’s all about our choices. I love that heroes always choose for the betterment of all then for themselves. And that’s what I hope for Jack. That he can be a hero for people in his life. Make good choices little man. There’s great power when the choice to stay close to your Father in Heaven is a priority. And serving and loving others, no matter how different their path may be from yours, no matter what, is a great way to do that.

Baby Avi's birth story

If you would have asked me a couple years ago if I would consider doing a natural non-medicated birth I would have without hesitation said no and laughed. I have hardly any pain tolerance and not a lot of confidence in my body. But then I had an emergency c section with Drayson and knew I didn’t want to go through that again. It was not the most pleasant experience for him or me. It wasn’t horrible, but not what I wanted for my baby or my body a second time around.

When we found out I was pregnant with Avi I knew I would be going for a VBAC (Vaginal birth after cesarean), but I didn’t realize I would also be wanting to do it non-medicated. I knew I wanted Doug and I to take a birthing class of some kind and I stumbled across a hypnobirthing class that was here in pleasant grove so I thought, why not? I didn’t know what hypnobirthing was but it was a class close to our home that Doug and I could take together to prepare for birth, so done deal. After our first of five classes though, I was sold and hooked on the idea of a natural birth for Avi. I wasn’t sure if I could do it, but I was going to go for it.

Hypnobirthing isn’t about someone hypnotizing you and then having a completely painless birth like you might initially think upon hearing “Hypno.” Not at all. We watched a lot of videos with women giving birth in baths and it looked pretty effortless and painless, so I know if you can get into the right mind state, it’s possible to have a painless birth. I am not one of those people who can, or really, who is willing to let myself get to that place. So what hypnobirthing taught me, was to RELAX. To BREATHE. To LISTEN to your body and TRUST its natural urges. To remember that the pain will end and that this kind of pain is your body doing what it should to bring you a baby. And the classes gave Doug and I tools and insights on how to cope with surges (contractions) and to breathe your baby down. Doug and I could probably talk to someone for 3 hours about all the cool things we learned about the uterus and a woman’s body and what it is capable of during labor and delivery. But I won’t get into all of that here. I will say though, sphincters are amazing and a Uterus is God’s crowning creation. Lol…but seriously wow.  Learning about it all really empowered me and made me feel confident in myself, my baby, and my body’s abilities.

Avi’s birthday began for me, around 3:30 am February 19^th. Her actual “due date” was February 8^th. So as you can imagine, I was feeling a lot of anxiety on having to be induced soon. I didn’t want to get induced. Using Pitocin to stimulate contractions on a VBAC patient can often lead to another c section. Me no likey. So on the 17^th and 18th I got a prenatal (labor stimulating) massage, ate some eggplant parmesan, and took a clary sage essential oil bath. These tactics either did the trick or Avi was just finally ready to discontinue my excellent “Womb Service” and hang out with us for reals. Who knows.  All I know was that the Braxton Hicks contractions I had been feeling since week 25 were beginning to feel much stronger and more intense. I had been experiencing random episodes of these contractions a couple days before too, but they would always fade off pretty quickly. This time they were not fading off. They began to be more consistent. I woke up Doug and told him what was going on and then immediately went to the bathroom to put make up on. Yes I really did that. You gotta do what you gotta do when you have no eyebrows and you know people might be taking pictures of you that day. Don’t judge me. I then started a bath. I wanted to labor as much as I could at home and baths are my absolute favorite way to relax and center myself. During all of this I would have to pause occasionally and breathe through contractions. Doug set up camp next to the tub with essential oils, calming music, trail mix, and our hypnobirthing book, ready to help in any way possible. I put head phones on and listened to a relaxation meditation I had been listening to for weeks.

Oh ignorance is bliss….I remember thinking at this point: if these are contractions this will be a breeze. Guess what dummy, contractions get stronger. Doy.

I texted my mom and she got my birthing entourage informed of the goings on. I felt bad because it was super early in the morning and I didn’t want to get them all up if this wasn’t all really going to go down. My mom was confident this was the real deal though and was, in fact, “going to go down”.

Eventually, my holy sanctuary (the bathtub), just wasn’t cutting it anymore in the comfort department. Every time I felt a surge coming on I felt like I needed back support or something to push against. The tub was not helping me accomplish these needs. So I got up, got dressed, and moved to sitting on the birthing ball (exercise ball) with Doug behind me on the couch. Whenever a surge would happen I would just breathe deeply and push my back into Doug for support.

Did I mention I was dealing with a nasty cold during all of this? My nose was clogged. So when my entourage arrived at my house (mom, dad, Britni, and Mei) my Dad brought a sinus rinse for me as well. I did one of these in between contractions to help me breathe easier. This part isn’t totally necessary for me to write about, I guess I just want extra props for being sick during labor.

The surges were getting closer and stronger so I decided I wanted to go to the hospital and get acclimated in my birthing room and make it feel cozy before things got crazier. We called the midwives at AF Valley OBGYN and they said to come in to the office first to make sure I was dilated enough so the hospital would take me. So there we were, sitting in the lobby area of the OB’s office, breathing heavy and contracting, lots of super pregnant women looking at me with fear in their eyes. I started to have a contraction when the midwife was about to check me so she jumped into doula mode and pushed against my knees (I couldn’t believe how much that helped) while I sat on the examination table and she talked me through it, lots of good stuff about waves. She was so sweet. I was dilated to almost a 4 so she said I was more than welcome to go to the hospital now if I wanted. I wanted. I knew I wouldn’t be getting anything for the pain, I guess I just took comfort in knowing I would be somewhere that people could help me quickly if I needed it. And then my second thought was, dilated to a 4? Only a 4? What does a 6 or 7 or an 8 surge feel like then? Was I going to die? Hush stupid brain. Just BREATHE. Then I remembered that I had never even dilated past a 2 with Drayson and that my body was going into labor all on its own. I did in fact want this to happen. So be happy dang it! Appreciate this! BREATHE. Amidst the pain I was a little excited.

We crossed the road to the hospital and realized we had never been there and weren’t sure where to go. The sweet lobby ladies pointed us in the right direction though. I got up to Labor and Delivery, they got me into a room, and poked the shiz out of me trying to find a vein to insert the tubey thing in, in case they needed to give me an IV at any point. My veins are shy, not their fault they had to poke around a bunch. Anyway, I thought I would try laboring in the tub at the hospital. That lasted about 5 minutes. Shivering while having contractions is not a good idea by the way. So I decided to start trying other positions that we had learned in Hypnobirthing class.  I brought my own nightgown to birth in, a pretty little black number from Target. Those hospital gowns are a bit too big for hobit sized me and quite ugly. If I was going to birth a baby I was going to do it in a dress I felt a little less huge in. Just another way to usher in some confidence. I got changed and sat in the hospital bed which had transformed into an upright “princess throne” position. I believe that’s what they called it. I sat there and had Doug push my knees in towards the bed when surges came. This helped a little. After doing that for a while I sat on the birthing ball again with him behind me in a chair. This is weird, but his arm was near my mouth at one point and I had the urge to bite the crap out of him during a surge. I didn’t. But I wanted to. Anyway, I stood up occasionally and leaned over the bed and just rocked side to side. I did all these things for a while. I say awhile because I literally can’t remember how long this went on. Hours and hours probably. I was not allowed to eat anything at the hospital but I snuck in some trail mix once and awhile. Shhh don’t tell. I was also being handed water and pebble ice from my sister.

At this point I made my first mistake and asked to be checked to see how far dilated I was. This began a domino effect of despair. I think I was at a 6 and shocked to only be at a 6 after all those surges and hard work. My midwife could tell I was getting a tad panic-like so she suggested breaking my water to help speed things along. I said yes please. This is a tad frowned upon in hypnobirthing because it is not necessary and can make it easier for bacteria to get up there. But I felt ok about it. After the water breaking, I laid in different positions and had my birthing team pushing my hips and sacrum. This is hard to explain so I will include pictures. Basically my birthing team all took turns putting pressure on my hips and sacrum whenever I breathed through a surge, while I laid over the birthing ball in the hospital bed. When I say Pressure I mean their entire body weight. My birthing team was amazing. They did this for me for probably ten hours by the end of it all. Doug’s mom even helped wipe me down when I urinated all over myself. Gross, but this is the reality of birthing people. And she was an angel to do that for me. The physical pressure they applied helped a little but emotionally, having them right there going through and assisting me through each surge, is what really helped. They got me through each tidal wave. 

I will admit at this point the only techniques from hypnobirthing class I could muster to help me was how to breathe. I couldn’t seem to get myself into a calm and relaxed mind frame anymore. I couldn’t remember my affirmations or meditations. I just wanted Avi here and the pain to stop. I remember telling Doug multiple times that I couldn’t do it and that I refused to ever do it again. I felt a bit like a failure but then swiftly remembered that I needed to stay focused, breathe, and that I was totally doing this and could do this. Also I had to do it, because it was too late for an epidural. No turning back now. Doug told me I could go to Hawaii and have anything I wanted around this time. I’m going to hold him to that at some point.  **side note: My advice to other hypnobirthing mamas or anyone giving birth without medication is to not get checked every hour to see how far dilated you are. That is what caused my panic and discouragement. You don’t need to know how far you are, your body will let you know when it’s time to push. And boy mine did. And that’s when the weird noises started coming from my mouth.

I was finally dilated to a 9 and wanting desperately to be at a 10 so I could push. My contractions were teaming up with a pushing feeling and I wanted to push. My cervix wanted to stay at a 9 though, yes it sure did. The midwife did something for me to help push it over the edge and turn it into a 10. I literally can’t remember what she did but Heaven thank her. As soon as she said you are at a 10, push if your body wants you to push, I PUSHED. With each contraction and pushing urge I started doing this weird low growl or moaning noise. We talked about this in birthing class. While in classI remember thinking there’s no way I would be making noises like that. But there I was, doing it. I remember thinking before a surge started, “It’ll be ok because you can make that noise again.” I can’t really explain it. It just helped. Doug and a nurse, were helping me hold my legs up to my chest.  Britni and my mom were on either side of me. I had their hands and with each surge, push, and growl I dug their hands and arms into the bed. I felt like I was going to break them. The midwife asked me if I wanted to reach down and feel Avi’s head as she started coming out. I said NO and kept pushing. I didn’t want to pause for anything, I wanted her out. The feelings at the end of birth are so bizarre. I was excited, determined, and felt like I was about to take a very very large number two. It literally feels like you are going to poop out a baby. I could feel my body telling me to slow down the pushing or there would be tearing. I could feel the burning. But I kind of ignored that and pushed with crazy red head determination. I can deal with tearing and stitches I thought. **side note: remember how I had a cold through all of this? Well it magically went away during labor and magically came back as soon as it was over. Coughing with stitches in your lady parts sucks and is scary. If I could go back I would tell myself this and sloooooow down.

15 hours of back breaking labor and 30 minutes of pushing and Avi graced us with her presence. I felt my stomach empty, SOOOO weird and cool, and there she was, in my arms, looking up at me. She didn’t cry, they needed her to cry to get gunk out but she just didn’t cry. She was rather peaceful despite everything going on. My family and I did cry though. It was a team effort and we had done it! I felt relief and shock that I had done it. Avi’s heart rate was perfect through the whole thing. She had done wonderfully and here she was, healthy and content. I don’t have a lot of confidence in my abilities, so I felt proud of myself. I felt grateful to my Heavenly Father for giving me the opportunity to bring Avi into the world and to my guardian angels and birthing team for helping me through it. It’s all overwhelming in the best ways possible. Everything was worth those first skin to skin moments with my Avi girl. She brought comfort to me while the midwife and nurses stitched my torn parts and took care of everything else going on down there. Shudder.  And there’s nothing like a tiny new baby looking up at you with their adorable blue-grey newborn baby eyes. They know who you are and cling to you. It’s a beautiful thing.

So there you have it. Would I do it again? During labor I would have said Hell no, give me the epidural. But looking back at it now, I think it was worth it. I was totally involved and in control of my birthing experience. Was it painful? Yes. But it was also beautiful, empowering, awe inspiring, and something I will never ever forget. Although I feel like I didn’t have as much mental control as I had wanted, I wasn’t behaving like Angie from the movie Baby Mama like I thought I would. Best of all, it was great for Avi. She wasn’t drugged in any way like poor sleepy percoset high Drayson after my c section. Avi and I were a birthing team and that, for me, was worth it. Also Doug treated me like a “Birthing Goddess” for a while after words and was totally impressed with me so that was cool.

I in no way think this is for everyone. I applaud all mommies with whatever decisions they make for the birthing of their babies and how they plan to raise them. Being a mom is the hardest but most rewarding job ever and every mom knows what is best for them and their baby. And if they don’t, they will figure it out. This just happened to work for me. It was not easy but if Doug and I are crazy enough to have more kids I would choose hypnobirthing again and I would try again and harder to apply everything I learned in class. Besides, I get better with practice. I am confident in my body and my babies. My birthing “theme” or mantra was Confidence and Love. I definitely felt both of those things on February 19^th, 2015.

Moms

I have to keep reminding myself that I'm a mom. I'm well aware of and totally in love with Drayson. But I'm realizing that I haven't felt like I've earned those stripes yet, the ever powerful and sacred title that is MOM. I've been pooped on, thrown up on, drooled on, cried on, boogered on, crawled on, etc. But that's like...mommy 101 basics. I ask Drayson everyday to be patient with me because even these 101 basics make me lose my cool sometimes. I have so much to learn and go through still with my little buddy. Every time I see my mom interact with him though, I am reminded of how to do it. She is the most loving, patient, protective, caring, thoughtful, and beautiful Mom I know. The best example I could ask for. She makes one hell of an awesome Grandma too.

I've put my mom through a lot. I'm a red head. I had some major red head rage when I was younger. I even remember her trying to brush my hair and me screaming at her, telling her I hated her. I had an evil streak but she kept me anyway. I strapped her into my roller coaster of emotions that is me and she stands here still by my side. I've always been a needy child. Now that I have my own child I feel even needier. How can I possibly be even half as great as a mom to Drayson as she was and is to me?? I will keep trying every day.

I used to think all moms were like my mom. I have come to realize that I am SPOILED. If I could share my mom with everyone I would. I would want to make sure that everyone could experience the love that my mom has for her kids and two new grand-babies for themselves. Bottle it up some how and share the wealth.

Listen, I just love Moms. I am a Mom. Like a princess mom...and my mom is the queen mom...she is training me well. But seriously, Mommy.....I love you so much. I know you always say you learned from the best. There is a HUGE part of you that is my dear sweet sanctuary guardian angel grandma Devona (I am missing her oh so much too p.s.). But there's another part of you that is just YOU. And YOU are amazing by nature. Some things can't be taught ya know? You just have it. That X factor... Mama style.

To Drayson....I am honored to be your Mom. Thank you for choosing me...thank you for loving me and needing me and giving my life more purpose than I ever knew it could posses and more love than I ever knew I could feel. Mwah! xoxoxo

Happy Mother's Day to all Mamas!!!

For Rachel

My cousin Rachel and I are the "runts" of our families, but boy do we have a large presence. We have the same hair color spirit, I say this because she is blond and I am a red head, but we share the same red head sassy fire. Watching Rachel and Hannah grow up together, it always seemed like they were a pair or a duo, attached at the hip even. I don't live in their home with them so I don't know if this is the case, but from what I have seen, their relationship reminds me of the relationship Britni and I grew up with. For these reasons I have always felt a bond with Rachel that I honestly have never openly talked about, but just knew. Considering the craziness that Rachel is going through now though, I think I would like to tell her and everyone just what I think about her now.


Rachel,

Being short is not always an easy task, not just anyone can pull it off. But you can. It used to drive me crazy when people teased or talked about me being tiny. But then I realized this saying is totally true:
 

Being short is unique and awesome. It's a humorous blessing even. Almost every day something silly happens because of being short. Also, short jokes and stories can be a great conversation starter ;)  Dynamite comes in small packages, the best perfumes come in tiny bottles, fun size candy is the best, travel size anything is more convenient, etc. These are all true facts. Own your tiny stature little lady. Our Little Grandma was the best example of doing just that. She was a powerful force and I think you are too. And when there are tough short girl problem days, cause there are, just call me and we will make fun of the tall people and go shopping in the kids section and get happy meals cause we can...so there. I love being the runt along with you.

I love following you on instagram. You always post uplifting and wonderful things. And I love that you follow me and always leave such sweet comments about Baby Dray. You radiate positivity!

Why this tumor has come to you, I have no clue. I hate this tumor for coming to you. BUT, you are going to kick it's ass. That I am sure of. You are the beautiful mighty Rachel. This visitor is not welcome and you will show it the door. And we will all be there to help you give it the finger while you escort it out. In fact, I'm giving it the finger now. The road will be a hard one but you got this Rachel. And being tough doesn't mean you cant cry. If you feel like crying then you cry, it's actually quite healthy! We will cry with ya and then help lift your spirits with happy laughing tears instead ;) Little, to me, means powerful. So I Love you Little Rachel. Consider the Petersen's yours.

Love,
your little compadre,
Erika

If I could get an explanation from God....warning: these are mostly girly problems and I'm not holding back.

If I could get an explanation from God about some things, as of right now, this would be my list: (in no particular order)

1-Teething. Why does teething have to hurt so bad? I am almost to the breaking point watching Dray struggle with pain because these tiny little teeth are cutting through his gum. He cant sleep either. I've tried cold chew toys, cold wash cloths, teething tablets, clove oil, pushing on him gums with my fingers, ice cubes wrapped in a wash cloth, etc etc etc. It just doesn't seem fair that a little baby must go through this!

2-Postpartum. So you just pushed a baby out of your who-haw and now you have to learn to nurse (see #3) so heck, let's throw in some emotional trauma. You have the urge to cry over anything, everything, and nothing all at the same time! The stress and anxiety over now caring for and raising this beautiful (but scary and screaming) child seems almost unbearable. Thrown in some major sleep deprivation to that mix as well for some real fun.

3-Nursing. All the new parents videos made it look so beautiful. What a bonding experience it will be they say. I would say I feel that way about it 1 out of every 10 nursing sessions. At the beginning it was beyond stressful...add that postpartum and you have red swollen eyes for weeks. Did you know that little new born babies can suck crazy strong? I mean enough that your nipples crack, bleed, and hurt so bad that you sob and hold your breath through trying to feed your baby. Oh but don't tense up when feeding your baby, they can sense it and it will stress them out and then your milk have trouble coming in. GGGAAH are you serious??!! How do you relax when it feels like someone is slowly trying to cut/pull your nipple off??  Dray is 7 months old now and it is no longer painful. But still a little stressful. Is he getting enough? Am I eating things that are making him sick? He has teeth now...have you ever had someone bite your tender nursing nipples? Wowzers that's a doozy.  Then when you are away from your baby for a few hours your boobs get so full of milk they feel like rocks that are going to explode. And they sometimes do. Hope you have some pads in your bra for when that happens. Dudes will just never get this.

4-Hemorrhoids and/or anal fissures. If being pregnant wasn't hard enough you are usually left with these afterwords. Lets see if your butt hole will fall apart and cause more pain than anything EVER every time you need to drop a deuce. I dare you to not pick up a swearing problem after dealing with those. They even make grown men scream and cry for help. Trust me on this. I woke up to my upstairs neighbor screaming and cussing up a storm so bad I thought he had cut off an arm. So I went upstairs to check on him and he waddles out of the bathroom saying, "sorry, I have hemorrhoids." Immediately I get it...and I want to go get him the number for the butt doctor who fixed me up and give him all my left over stupid creams that barely helped. I guess men get to experience this horrible thing too.

5- Periods......really painful terrible bloody periods that make you pass out, throw up, and want narcotics. I mean, periods so bad that you ask people if they have a tranquilizer they could shoot you with to just knock you out for a few days. But wait! Are you nursing?? You better not take anything too strong that can mess with your milk. Suffer through it. Suffer. Why does it have to hurt so bad?? The PMS that comes along with it is outrageous too. My husband sure enjoys it too.

I think there are more but I must tend to my teething baby. I am not blaming God for any of these things. I would just like to discuss with him why they happen and then kindly ask him to make it all go away. And if no changes will be made...well, then I think God should make it so I wont gain weight from all the ice cream and treats it takes to help me deal with these issues.

P.s. I love my baby Drayons sooooo much that all of this is worth it if it means I get him. And the times that nursing does work out great it is a little magical and cute. Although lately when he is nursing he likes to grab my face and mouth and scratch, slap, and pull. That is not so cute.

Christmas feels good :)

Drayson has been taking great naps today so I have time to blog.....I dont have anything to say really though. Other than I LOVE Christmas. I love how everyone is in a giving mood and spirit. I wish it would carry on with everyone for the rest of the new year too. How cool would that be? 

I'm super excited for Drayson's first Christmas. I wish his cousin Mei could be here with him! I'm sure he will enjoy playing with boxes and paper more than he will enjoy the toy smart phone I got him. But I am still excited to watch him open it. 

I also wish there were 3 of me during the holidays. Because I have three families I would love to spend the whole day with but just cant. 

This New Year's Eve will be a tender one. My Grandma DeVona passed away last year on New Year's Eve just before midnight. I know she got a chance to hang out with Drayson while he was still in Heaven waiting to board the crazy train that is Doug and I. But I can't help but wish she was here with us still so I could watch her with Dray baby. I miss her so much. There's a part of me in denial that she isn't in St. George just hanging out still. When I do let myself think about not being able to give her a hug or talk with her I break down a little. I cant wait to see and hug my sassy 4'9 friend again. But until then....we shall play canasta and swear up a storm in honor of her. New year's eve we're going to play canasta all night in honor of that wonderful Grandma, Mother, and Best Friend. I am going to channel her and kick everyone's butts. 

Warning: This is a hatred of pornography vent session

Ok, I am all for freedom of speech/expression, but I don't think Pornography should be a part of that because it is twisted and messed up. I also think teaching/preparing your children to guard themselves from porn is awesome, but I honestly don't think it's enough. Which sucks. I will be doing all I can to help my children through it but I think it's about time serious measures are taken to knock it off and out.

The porn industry is a filthy sack of rotting cow crap that destroys anything and everything sacred. It's addicting and seriously messes with your brain. I think it should be abolished and all those involved in the production of it should be fined and get therapy. This will never happen though, so any and every way to make it harder to access is a great step. There should be no justification for it's existence. If life wasn't hard enough, humans throw crap like porn into the mix. It's like we're asking for and teaching men and women to have really screwed up ideals of each other by it being out there and so easily accessed. It's creating our future sexual predators. It's a joke!

I really wish we had a super human hero who could take this issue into their hands and make it their job to obliterate it from planet Earth! Because I think it would take a super hero to do it. So while we wait for this Porno Pulverizer to come rid us of the filth, take a stand and support any efforts made to guard ourselves from it. Teach your kids about it, talk about it, and get help with it if you have an addiction.

Ok rant over.