I really enjoy running and I found an informal running group in Yarmouth that leaves at 7 AM rain, sleet, snow and dark (but not dark of night because we leave at 7 am). I went the first few times and ran a slow 3 miles with a small group of runners I was actually faster than.
I missed a few weeks due to travel, a 5k and the Christmas Fair.
Today, my first day back, it was 26 degrees to start and it had snowed a little over night. My short, slow group was not there. I took off a little before another group of runners heading my usual route, knowing they would pass me eventually.
They did. They slowed down a bit and we chatted a while but they took off after a bit. When we got to my usual turn to head back the cars, they kept going. I thought to myself, "I can go a little longer." We ran toward the high school and I thought, "They'll turn into the high school and head back." They didn't. I knew I could keep going for a bit and I decided to keep them in my sights and keep going.
Running got a bit hard. My knees were starting to ache and sweat was starting to drip off me. I began to think about heading back. The guys were starting to get farther away and I didn't want to loose them. They took a turn and I followed...then I realized I had no idea where I was! Now, I had to stay with them.
As we crossed into Cumberland, I decided that I had to catch up. I needed to find out how much longer they were running before I got further away from home and couldn't keep up and ended up lost. In order to do this I would need to catch up.
I started to run faster in between power poles. I was starting to get closer to the group and they turned a corner and I lost them. I sped up, it really hurt, but finally I was close enough to shout.
"Are we there yet?"
"Are you still back there?"
"Yep!"
I recounted the story of how I ended up still with them and how I had no idea where we were. They were 1. surprised I had stayed with them 2. impressed that I had caught up 3. sympathetic to the fact that is was the farthest I had ever run. They decided to cut their mileage to accommodate me and we headed up route one. I finally began to recognize where we were. I told them about my running background and they all seemed to be impressed that I had a 5 month old at home.
We made it back and I had run 5 miles! It took about 1:20.
I'm pleased that I did it, especially because it was on accident. DH is proud of me, which is an excellent feeling.
Since this time was accident, I'll try it again on purpose.
I don't know if this makes me hard core yet. But I am pretty sure that I can now call myself a runner.
Saturday, December 11, 2010
Sunday, November 28, 2010
The Turkey is Not the Problem...
After my "success" in the Yarmouth Pumpkin Run, I decided that I would like to run a Thanksgiving race. I didn't want to run before Thanksgiving, because I would be out of town and running on Thanksgiving didn't appeal to me. I found a race in Gorham the Saturday after Thanksgiving, the Burn Off the Turkey 5k. I registered and couldn't wait.
DH had the day off so he stayed home with the baby and I headed off to Gorham. I pulled into the address given on the web site and was a little concerned. There was very little parking available and all the cars I could see there had a layer of frost. There was no bustle of activity I had seen at the other races I ran. I used my mobile browser and found out that I was at the wrong place. I could not find an address for where I was supposed to be so using my GPS was not a solution. I started looking for a place to ask for directions when I noticed that a truck was placing construction barrels along the road. I doubted there was construction on a Saturday, so I figured that I would follow the barrels to see if they lead to the starting line.
They did. There were plenty of cars (that were not frosty) and a bustle of activity. Packet pick-up was in a gym which was really nice because it was 25 degrees out. The runners were allowed to wait inside and I started some small talk with some other runners. About 10 minutes before the race started, some trainers from a local gym led a warm up and we were herded outside.
My goal this race was to finish in under 40 minutes, even if it meant a time of 39:59. I felt like I got off to a good start, I started in the middle of the pack so that only half of the runners would pass me. Which is what happened. There were a few girls ahead of me that stopped to walk not too far after the start. I breezed right past them thinking that even if they passed me later, at least I wouldn't have walked. There was also a girl with an orange knitted beret running ahead of me, she was keeping a pretty good pace, so I figured that I would try to keep her in my sight.
Around the first mile marker, Orange Beret stopped and walked a bit, as I passed her, she stopped to throw up. I left her in my dust, thankful that I was going to run the whole way and not throw up.
There was a water station at the half-way point. It was there that the group of walking girls ran past me and then Orange Beret passed me. She ran a little ahead of me and turned to look at me and started walking. At this point I was running faster intervals between the power poles and I took advantage of one of these to pass her. A minute or two later, she ran past me again, looked back and started to walk. So, I passed her again. This little pattern continued until just after the two mile mark. She must have figured that I was onto her little game and she past me and ran ahead and out of my sight. I realized then, that I could not see any runners ahead of me.
I picked up my pace and crossed a major street and I could see the pack again. I turned a corner and there were some of the race volunteers letting the runners know that we were close to the finish line. A few minutes after that, runners that had already finished were running and walking back along the course. I was getting close!
I was past by two more runners. I went around another corner and I could see the finish. The timer was a little bit out of my sight, but it looked like it said either 36 minutes or 38 minutes. If it was 36 I was going to make my goal, if it was 38 I didn't think I would make it. I decided to give it my all and went into a full out sprint. There were runners that had finished along the way and they were cheering. I think they gave me energy to keep up the sprint. I finished to cheers and congratulations.
I made my goal!
I finished at 38:58. Not only was this a post-baby (no stroller) PB, but it is also my overall PB, beating my 2009 Pumpkin Run by a little over a minute!
I went into the gym to cool down and got some food. I got in line for a sports massage and decided to stick around for the awards and door prizes. As it turns out, the ladies I was talking to before the race placed top three in their respective age groups. And, I won a purse.
This was a fun race and I am really pleased with my finish. However, I am afraid I my becoming addicted. I have been checking the Internet for a 5k to run in December. I have found a few, but they are on Sundays and I don't want to skip church to run.
I'll keep running though and maybe I'll come in at 30 minutes or under one of these days!
A picture of me taken by Maine Running Photos
DH had the day off so he stayed home with the baby and I headed off to Gorham. I pulled into the address given on the web site and was a little concerned. There was very little parking available and all the cars I could see there had a layer of frost. There was no bustle of activity I had seen at the other races I ran. I used my mobile browser and found out that I was at the wrong place. I could not find an address for where I was supposed to be so using my GPS was not a solution. I started looking for a place to ask for directions when I noticed that a truck was placing construction barrels along the road. I doubted there was construction on a Saturday, so I figured that I would follow the barrels to see if they lead to the starting line.
They did. There were plenty of cars (that were not frosty) and a bustle of activity. Packet pick-up was in a gym which was really nice because it was 25 degrees out. The runners were allowed to wait inside and I started some small talk with some other runners. About 10 minutes before the race started, some trainers from a local gym led a warm up and we were herded outside.
My goal this race was to finish in under 40 minutes, even if it meant a time of 39:59. I felt like I got off to a good start, I started in the middle of the pack so that only half of the runners would pass me. Which is what happened. There were a few girls ahead of me that stopped to walk not too far after the start. I breezed right past them thinking that even if they passed me later, at least I wouldn't have walked. There was also a girl with an orange knitted beret running ahead of me, she was keeping a pretty good pace, so I figured that I would try to keep her in my sight.
Around the first mile marker, Orange Beret stopped and walked a bit, as I passed her, she stopped to throw up. I left her in my dust, thankful that I was going to run the whole way and not throw up.
There was a water station at the half-way point. It was there that the group of walking girls ran past me and then Orange Beret passed me. She ran a little ahead of me and turned to look at me and started walking. At this point I was running faster intervals between the power poles and I took advantage of one of these to pass her. A minute or two later, she ran past me again, looked back and started to walk. So, I passed her again. This little pattern continued until just after the two mile mark. She must have figured that I was onto her little game and she past me and ran ahead and out of my sight. I realized then, that I could not see any runners ahead of me.
I picked up my pace and crossed a major street and I could see the pack again. I turned a corner and there were some of the race volunteers letting the runners know that we were close to the finish line. A few minutes after that, runners that had already finished were running and walking back along the course. I was getting close!
I was past by two more runners. I went around another corner and I could see the finish. The timer was a little bit out of my sight, but it looked like it said either 36 minutes or 38 minutes. If it was 36 I was going to make my goal, if it was 38 I didn't think I would make it. I decided to give it my all and went into a full out sprint. There were runners that had finished along the way and they were cheering. I think they gave me energy to keep up the sprint. I finished to cheers and congratulations.
I made my goal!
I finished at 38:58. Not only was this a post-baby (no stroller) PB, but it is also my overall PB, beating my 2009 Pumpkin Run by a little over a minute!
I went into the gym to cool down and got some food. I got in line for a sports massage and decided to stick around for the awards and door prizes. As it turns out, the ladies I was talking to before the race placed top three in their respective age groups. And, I won a purse.
This was a fun race and I am really pleased with my finish. However, I am afraid I my becoming addicted. I have been checking the Internet for a 5k to run in December. I have found a few, but they are on Sundays and I don't want to skip church to run.
I'll keep running though and maybe I'll come in at 30 minutes or under one of these days!
A picture of me taken by Maine Running Photos
Thursday, November 25, 2010
Here Baby, There Mama, Every Where Daddy, Daddy
This may surprise you, but when I was little, I had straight hair. It was just as thick, but it was indeed straight. As I got older, it got curlier, well most of it did anyway. The front is really wavy, the underneath is really curly and the very back is pretty much straight. It gets super fizzy and bushy. If I don't get it cut regularly, it grows into a triangle and I look like 1970's SNL character, Rosanna Roseannadanna. In fact, my mom would call me Joanna Joannadanna from time to time.
My hair got me teased a lot. In fact, I cannot remember a time in school when I was not made fun of because of my hair. I once off the bus with a half eaten Blow Pop stuck in it. And people always seemed to have hair advice ready for me. What bothered me the most was not that it was unsolicited advice, but all this advice came from people with straight hair!
I took a poetry writing class in college. We had an assignment to write a poem that used a lot of emotion. I wrote about my hair:
Why do those with straight hair always think
they know what is right for those with curly hair?
"Wear it long!"
"Wash it less!"
"Cut it short!"
"Condition it more!"
I want to say,
"Shut up!"
"You don't know what it's like!"
But, my mother's words echo,
"There is never an excuse to be rude."
So, I smile and say,
"Thanks, I'll try that."
It was about this time that products for curly hair started to appear on the market. I became a mad scientist trying different products to make my curls work. I realize that I could have straightened every day, I know quite a few girls who did that. But, waking up super early to spend an hour on my hair isn't my style.
After trying several products one at a time, I decided to start mixing them. I didn't see anything on the packaging saying I couldn't mix them so I once again became a mad scientist. I finally found my "hair cocktail."
I use shampoo and conditioner for curly hair and a leave-in conditioner. Next, comes a anti-frizz curl cream, then a scrunching gel for curly hair, then mousse. Before I finish with hair spray, I use a fiber putty to set the curl.
It's a lot of steps, but it works for me and my curls. I have bad hair days now and then, but thankfully, being a grown up, I don't get teased anymore!
My hair got me teased a lot. In fact, I cannot remember a time in school when I was not made fun of because of my hair. I once off the bus with a half eaten Blow Pop stuck in it. And people always seemed to have hair advice ready for me. What bothered me the most was not that it was unsolicited advice, but all this advice came from people with straight hair!
I took a poetry writing class in college. We had an assignment to write a poem that used a lot of emotion. I wrote about my hair:
Why do those with straight hair always think
they know what is right for those with curly hair?
"Wear it long!"
"Wash it less!"
"Cut it short!"
"Condition it more!"
I want to say,
"Shut up!"
"You don't know what it's like!"
But, my mother's words echo,
"There is never an excuse to be rude."
So, I smile and say,
"Thanks, I'll try that."
It was about this time that products for curly hair started to appear on the market. I became a mad scientist trying different products to make my curls work. I realize that I could have straightened every day, I know quite a few girls who did that. But, waking up super early to spend an hour on my hair isn't my style.
After trying several products one at a time, I decided to start mixing them. I didn't see anything on the packaging saying I couldn't mix them so I once again became a mad scientist. I finally found my "hair cocktail."
I use shampoo and conditioner for curly hair and a leave-in conditioner. Next, comes a anti-frizz curl cream, then a scrunching gel for curly hair, then mousse. Before I finish with hair spray, I use a fiber putty to set the curl.
It's a lot of steps, but it works for me and my curls. I have bad hair days now and then, but thankfully, being a grown up, I don't get teased anymore!
Monday, November 15, 2010
Run, Pumpkins! Run!
My dad is a runner. I remember him going for runs when I was younger. I remember the Oak Apple Run t-shirts he wore that he got running the local 5ks. He's even run the Detroit half-marathon, so maybe it's in my blood.
I ran track in the 7th grade. I hated it. I wasn't very fast, and the coach only wanted to work with the top 3 runners in each race. Everyone else was to run the straightways on the track and walk the curves. That got really boring, really fast.
Fast forward 20 some years. Every time I see a runner, I think to myself, "I wish I could do that." I wasn't sure how to get started, I don't know why I just didn't start. I guess I was afraid I would hurt myself.
When I was getting ready to move to Portland, ME, I started looking at hotels and apartments and I noticed that many places boasted "just minutes from Back Cove." I began to wonder what Back Cove was, so I Googled it. The first link that came up was a link for the Maine Running Company. They offered weekly 5ks at Back Cove-which turns out to be a 3+ mile loop running trail around a cove in Portland. The Maine Running Company also offers a weekly running training group with the intention of running a 5k. This sounded really good to me. A way to learn to run and meet people. I discussed it with DH and he thought it would be good for me too, so I joined.
The running workouts were sent to me via email and the group met once a week. It started out easy enough, walking and running, each week the walking got shorter and the running got longer. The longer the running got the harder it got. I thought I was going to die! My legs hurt so bad, it was awful. But, I was determined to continue. I decided that I would keep running until the 5k and then I would decide if I was going to keep running. I mentioned my leg pain the the trainer I was working with and she recommended that I get new shoes, I was wearing regular cross trainers.
What a difference new shoes made. I was still really slow, but at least I wasn't in pain anymore.
With new shoes and continuing practice, running got easier, and I was enjoying myself. I began to run the entire Back Cove loop without walking and that was really exciting to me, I felt very accomplished. I decided to run the Yarmouth Pumpkin Run on October 31.
My only goal for the race was to run the entire way. And that's what I did! I also caught a cold.
And, as it turns out, I was 5 1/2 weeks pregnant.
I thought that after I was over my cold, I would continue running. I asked a girlfriend, L, about her running while she was pregnant and she said that she ran until she was 28 weeks, so I thought I would try to do that,too.
But, the cold kept me from that. It took until January for me to be able to walk my usual running route without a coughing fit or two. So I decided to wait until after that baby was born to continue running. I walked most days up until the baby was born, but I felt guilty about not running until I was 28 weeks.
In the meantime, I made the decision to run the next Pumpkin Run October 30, 2010, the baby would be 17 1/2 weeks old. Because of the C-section, it took me a little longer to get back into running and I only had 4 weeks to prepare for the race.
Again, I thought I was going to die! I kept at it though and I knew it would be hard, but I felt I was able to run the race. I ran the course at Back Cove and was passed by a woman who was walking. It took me 47:42 to complete the loop, but I managed to run the whole time.
Race day came and it was very cold. I had the baby snuggled up in his jogging stroller and some girl friends, including L, came to run with me. It was a hard run, and I was very slow. I was so slow, in fact, that as I passed the direction signs someone from the race committee would come along, pick up the steak and toss the sign into the back of a pick up truck, that's right folks-I was last.
As I neared the end of the race, L, who ran ahead me of me came to run the end of the race with me and my two other friends ran up ahead of me. I came around the curve of the track and as I entered the chute to end the race I heard my friends cheering for me and I saw my husband (who ran with the dog) cheering as well.
I finished in 45:55, the last runner in my age group and the entire race. But that doesn't matter. Here's what matters:
I ran a 5k with only 4 weeks prep time.
I ran a 5k 16 1/2 weeks after having a baby, via C-section.
I want to keep running.
I ran track in the 7th grade. I hated it. I wasn't very fast, and the coach only wanted to work with the top 3 runners in each race. Everyone else was to run the straightways on the track and walk the curves. That got really boring, really fast.
Fast forward 20 some years. Every time I see a runner, I think to myself, "I wish I could do that." I wasn't sure how to get started, I don't know why I just didn't start. I guess I was afraid I would hurt myself.
When I was getting ready to move to Portland, ME, I started looking at hotels and apartments and I noticed that many places boasted "just minutes from Back Cove." I began to wonder what Back Cove was, so I Googled it. The first link that came up was a link for the Maine Running Company. They offered weekly 5ks at Back Cove-which turns out to be a 3+ mile loop running trail around a cove in Portland. The Maine Running Company also offers a weekly running training group with the intention of running a 5k. This sounded really good to me. A way to learn to run and meet people. I discussed it with DH and he thought it would be good for me too, so I joined.
The running workouts were sent to me via email and the group met once a week. It started out easy enough, walking and running, each week the walking got shorter and the running got longer. The longer the running got the harder it got. I thought I was going to die! My legs hurt so bad, it was awful. But, I was determined to continue. I decided that I would keep running until the 5k and then I would decide if I was going to keep running. I mentioned my leg pain the the trainer I was working with and she recommended that I get new shoes, I was wearing regular cross trainers.
What a difference new shoes made. I was still really slow, but at least I wasn't in pain anymore.
With new shoes and continuing practice, running got easier, and I was enjoying myself. I began to run the entire Back Cove loop without walking and that was really exciting to me, I felt very accomplished. I decided to run the Yarmouth Pumpkin Run on October 31.
My only goal for the race was to run the entire way. And that's what I did! I also caught a cold.
And, as it turns out, I was 5 1/2 weeks pregnant.
I thought that after I was over my cold, I would continue running. I asked a girlfriend, L, about her running while she was pregnant and she said that she ran until she was 28 weeks, so I thought I would try to do that,too.
But, the cold kept me from that. It took until January for me to be able to walk my usual running route without a coughing fit or two. So I decided to wait until after that baby was born to continue running. I walked most days up until the baby was born, but I felt guilty about not running until I was 28 weeks.
In the meantime, I made the decision to run the next Pumpkin Run October 30, 2010, the baby would be 17 1/2 weeks old. Because of the C-section, it took me a little longer to get back into running and I only had 4 weeks to prepare for the race.
Again, I thought I was going to die! I kept at it though and I knew it would be hard, but I felt I was able to run the race. I ran the course at Back Cove and was passed by a woman who was walking. It took me 47:42 to complete the loop, but I managed to run the whole time.
Race day came and it was very cold. I had the baby snuggled up in his jogging stroller and some girl friends, including L, came to run with me. It was a hard run, and I was very slow. I was so slow, in fact, that as I passed the direction signs someone from the race committee would come along, pick up the steak and toss the sign into the back of a pick up truck, that's right folks-I was last.
As I neared the end of the race, L, who ran ahead me of me came to run the end of the race with me and my two other friends ran up ahead of me. I came around the curve of the track and as I entered the chute to end the race I heard my friends cheering for me and I saw my husband (who ran with the dog) cheering as well.
I finished in 45:55, the last runner in my age group and the entire race. But that doesn't matter. Here's what matters:
I ran a 5k with only 4 weeks prep time.
I ran a 5k 16 1/2 weeks after having a baby, via C-section.
I want to keep running.
Friday, October 29, 2010
Did you know...
that I play the violin?
that was (a historically inaccurate) Laura Ingalls Wilder for Halloween in the 5th grade?
if I could do anything without regards to talent or money, I would be a ballet dancer?
that I once considered trying out for Survivor?
that I love cupcakes?
that I met my DH online?
that I lived in South Dakota for a short time?
that I was a Girl Scout from first through twelfth grade?
I came in 8th out of 18 in a cannonball contest in college?
I have a goal to have my picture taken in front of each state capital or state house?
I routinely call my son the dog's name and vice versa?
I own all 7 seasons of Girlmore Girls on DVD?
I used to rent designer handbags?
I once considered joining the Army?
I think Audrey Hepburn is the classiest and most elegant actress of her generation?
I DVR Jeopardy?
that I hate massages?
I almost always wear mascara?
I ran my first 5k October 31, 2009?
I didn't start drinking coffee until I was in my 30s?
that I am really glad you are reading this?
that was (a historically inaccurate) Laura Ingalls Wilder for Halloween in the 5th grade?
if I could do anything without regards to talent or money, I would be a ballet dancer?
that I once considered trying out for Survivor?
that I love cupcakes?
that I met my DH online?
that I lived in South Dakota for a short time?
that I was a Girl Scout from first through twelfth grade?
I came in 8th out of 18 in a cannonball contest in college?
I have a goal to have my picture taken in front of each state capital or state house?
I routinely call my son the dog's name and vice versa?
I own all 7 seasons of Girlmore Girls on DVD?
I used to rent designer handbags?
I once considered joining the Army?
I think Audrey Hepburn is the classiest and most elegant actress of her generation?
I DVR Jeopardy?
that I hate massages?
I almost always wear mascara?
I ran my first 5k October 31, 2009?
I didn't start drinking coffee until I was in my 30s?
that I am really glad you are reading this?
Monday, October 25, 2010
Baby Love
I may not be a blogger, but I am a mother, and here is my story...
When I found out I was pregnant, I started reading all about pregnancy and birth. I was fairly certain that I could do a vaginal birth without drugs. I was more nervous about my DH being at work when I went into labor than doing it without drugs.
Along the way, my blood pressure and weight were just fine. In fact, my BP was pretty low. Everything was going fine. There was one thing that caused the doctor some concern. It turned out that I had a mid-point cord insertion, the only real complication for this might be low birth weight, so an ultra-sound was ordered to monitor the baby's weight. It was actually a little big.
This was fine in terms of the cord, but in other ways, not so much. If the baby (by this time we knew he was a boy) continued to grow in the current trend, he would be over 5000g and we would need to have a c-section.
At the next ultra-sound scheduled to monitor the baby's growth, the estimated weight showed that the baby wasn't gaining as fast and we were out of the C-section woods.
Everything continued just fine. We attended a childbirth class and I made the decision to go drug free. I didn't like the side effects for me or the baby. My DH was totally behind my decision and was hoping that I would chose to go drug free. I made out my birth plan and began to read everything I could on childbirth without drugs. I practiced Dr. Bradley's positions and relaxing techniques. When 38 weeks came along, we packed our bags, put them in the car and installed the car seat. We found an alternate route to the hospital, just in case. We sat and waited for the baby to came-well not really-we went to a baseball game and the Maine Wildlife park. When at the doctor's office, I was 1 cm dilated and not effaced each week.
I usually went to the doctor's office on Friday and my due date was on a Thursday. When making my appointments, I went ahead and made an appointment for the day after my due date. Since the baby didn't come on his due date, we went to the appointment at which we had an ultrasound to monitor my fluid levels.
After the ultrasound, a pediatric cardiologist came and told us that the baby's aorta looked large and an echo cardiogram after his birth would be given to check on it. The doctor didn't think it was going to be a problem, but if it was a problem, the fix was nothing to worry about. I am a worrier, so all I could think about while waiting for my doctor was my tiny baby having a bad heart.
When my doctor came to the exam room, he didn't look quite the same as he usually did. I thought it was because of the enlarged aorta. He told us that the baby didn't read the text book and had gained quite a bit of weight in the last few weeks. His estimated weight was 10 pounds, 10 ounces! The doctor explained that this estimate could be up to 15% off, putting the baby at between the mid 9 pounds to the low 12 pounds!
He recommended a C-section.
If he mentioned the enlarged aorta, I don't remember.
All I could think about was holding it together in front of the doctor.
He went on to explain, that we could try for a vaginal delivery, but there was a possibility of a broken collarbone and nerve damage, which could be permanent. He told me that if I were his wife, mother, sister, we could recommend the C-section. So we scheduled it. We were coming up in the Fourth of July weekend, so the section was scheduled for July 6.
When we got to the car, I had a peace come over me about the C-section. I knew exactly when the baby was coming and we had time to put everything in order.
To keep ourselves busy the day before the delivery, we cleaned our apartment form top to bottom and went out for a nice dinner. I had the best sleep of my pregnancy that night.
I was really nervous all the way to the hospital and all through the check in process. Our pastor came to pray with us and I felt the same peace wash over me as before. While we waited, we made a list of all the state capitals in alphabetic order.
When DH left to get his scrubs on I wanted to cry out for him to come back and take me home, we would wait until the baby came on his own. But, I didn't, I was determined to be strong.
While the doctor was giving me the anesthesia, all I could think was, "well, there goes the drug free birth." But, I really wasn't that bad. The worst part was all that cold soap. As the doctor's got started, I again began to think that I didn't want to do this, but, I told myself that it was too late now.
When DH came in, I felt much better. I felt the same peace that I had when I saw him as I entered the sanctuary the day we got married.
The procedure went fine and as the doctors cut his cord, "Brown Eyed Girl" was the song playing in the operating room. His cries were the most beautiful sound I had ever heard (funny how quickly that changes).
When DH brought him over to me, I couldn't stop looking at his perfect little face. He weighed 9 pounds 8 ounces. I cried.
I cried from happiness, yes, but also because I had missed out on all the things I had been looking forward to: the excitement of going into labor, having him placed on my chest, watching DH cut the cord, feeding the baby right away. I prayed and told the Lord how happy I was that He had blessed with a healthy baby and was able to go back to tears of joy.
His aorta is the perfect size.
When I found out I was pregnant, I started reading all about pregnancy and birth. I was fairly certain that I could do a vaginal birth without drugs. I was more nervous about my DH being at work when I went into labor than doing it without drugs.
Along the way, my blood pressure and weight were just fine. In fact, my BP was pretty low. Everything was going fine. There was one thing that caused the doctor some concern. It turned out that I had a mid-point cord insertion, the only real complication for this might be low birth weight, so an ultra-sound was ordered to monitor the baby's weight. It was actually a little big.
This was fine in terms of the cord, but in other ways, not so much. If the baby (by this time we knew he was a boy) continued to grow in the current trend, he would be over 5000g and we would need to have a c-section.
At the next ultra-sound scheduled to monitor the baby's growth, the estimated weight showed that the baby wasn't gaining as fast and we were out of the C-section woods.
Everything continued just fine. We attended a childbirth class and I made the decision to go drug free. I didn't like the side effects for me or the baby. My DH was totally behind my decision and was hoping that I would chose to go drug free. I made out my birth plan and began to read everything I could on childbirth without drugs. I practiced Dr. Bradley's positions and relaxing techniques. When 38 weeks came along, we packed our bags, put them in the car and installed the car seat. We found an alternate route to the hospital, just in case. We sat and waited for the baby to came-well not really-we went to a baseball game and the Maine Wildlife park. When at the doctor's office, I was 1 cm dilated and not effaced each week.
I usually went to the doctor's office on Friday and my due date was on a Thursday. When making my appointments, I went ahead and made an appointment for the day after my due date. Since the baby didn't come on his due date, we went to the appointment at which we had an ultrasound to monitor my fluid levels.
After the ultrasound, a pediatric cardiologist came and told us that the baby's aorta looked large and an echo cardiogram after his birth would be given to check on it. The doctor didn't think it was going to be a problem, but if it was a problem, the fix was nothing to worry about. I am a worrier, so all I could think about while waiting for my doctor was my tiny baby having a bad heart.
When my doctor came to the exam room, he didn't look quite the same as he usually did. I thought it was because of the enlarged aorta. He told us that the baby didn't read the text book and had gained quite a bit of weight in the last few weeks. His estimated weight was 10 pounds, 10 ounces! The doctor explained that this estimate could be up to 15% off, putting the baby at between the mid 9 pounds to the low 12 pounds!
He recommended a C-section.
If he mentioned the enlarged aorta, I don't remember.
All I could think about was holding it together in front of the doctor.
He went on to explain, that we could try for a vaginal delivery, but there was a possibility of a broken collarbone and nerve damage, which could be permanent. He told me that if I were his wife, mother, sister, we could recommend the C-section. So we scheduled it. We were coming up in the Fourth of July weekend, so the section was scheduled for July 6.
When we got to the car, I had a peace come over me about the C-section. I knew exactly when the baby was coming and we had time to put everything in order.
To keep ourselves busy the day before the delivery, we cleaned our apartment form top to bottom and went out for a nice dinner. I had the best sleep of my pregnancy that night.
I was really nervous all the way to the hospital and all through the check in process. Our pastor came to pray with us and I felt the same peace wash over me as before. While we waited, we made a list of all the state capitals in alphabetic order.
When DH left to get his scrubs on I wanted to cry out for him to come back and take me home, we would wait until the baby came on his own. But, I didn't, I was determined to be strong.
While the doctor was giving me the anesthesia, all I could think was, "well, there goes the drug free birth." But, I really wasn't that bad. The worst part was all that cold soap. As the doctor's got started, I again began to think that I didn't want to do this, but, I told myself that it was too late now.
When DH came in, I felt much better. I felt the same peace that I had when I saw him as I entered the sanctuary the day we got married.
The procedure went fine and as the doctors cut his cord, "Brown Eyed Girl" was the song playing in the operating room. His cries were the most beautiful sound I had ever heard (funny how quickly that changes).
When DH brought him over to me, I couldn't stop looking at his perfect little face. He weighed 9 pounds 8 ounces. I cried.
I cried from happiness, yes, but also because I had missed out on all the things I had been looking forward to: the excitement of going into labor, having him placed on my chest, watching DH cut the cord, feeding the baby right away. I prayed and told the Lord how happy I was that He had blessed with a healthy baby and was able to go back to tears of joy.
His aorta is the perfect size.
 |
| Before |
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| 6 minutes old |
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| Our First Family Portrait |
Monday, October 18, 2010
I've Fallen In Love!
I love living in a place that has four seasons. Each of the seasons is wonderful and beautiful in its own way. Right now, all the wonderful things about fall invade my thoughts.
The girly-girl in me loves all the fall clothes. I love skirts and tights, fun flats and fashion boots, cozy sweaters, felt and knitted hats, scarves and vests. Not to mention the handbags (is pink a fall color?). And the coats! I also love all the places to wear such fun fashion: Daughters of the King, Leaf Raking parties, Harvest Parties, Harvest Dinners...
I love the traditions of fall. We decorate for fall and I get to pull out all the beautiful things that I sadly put away the day after Thanksgiving last year. It makes the whole house feel warm and cozy. Plus, my DH makes fires in the fire place that crackle and pop. We also have "popcorn Thursday." We pop the kernels on the stove and enjoy it with apple cider while we watch The Office. One of my favorite traditions in fall was, at one time, being at a football game and marching with the band a half time. Since those days have past me by, I now enjoy falling asleep on the couch while football is on TV. I like to open the window just enough to need a blanket to snuggle in.
Fall food is incredible! Chili and cornbread, pot roasts, stews, stuffed peppers, pumpkin and apple pies and donuts and cider. There is something about fall that makes me want to spend all day baking! Of course, with the food comes the outings to pick apples and hayrides to find perfect pumpkins-both of which I have done this year, baby in tow.
It may go against the girly-girl thing. but there is something magical about being outside in the fall. The air is just cool enough and there is the faintest sweetness mixed with wood smoke aroma in the air. There is something about the way the blue sky mixes with the colors of the leaves and evergreens that speaks to me. I am so glad that God has given us the ability to appreciate the beauty of his creation.
Sometimes I think I might be happy if fall was all year, but then I think that it might not be so special to me. So, I'll take it for the short time it is here and try to love every day of it. I'm sure that by the time the last leaves fall and the snow begins, I'll be ready for the winter (is pink a winter color?).
The girly-girl in me loves all the fall clothes. I love skirts and tights, fun flats and fashion boots, cozy sweaters, felt and knitted hats, scarves and vests. Not to mention the handbags (is pink a fall color?). And the coats! I also love all the places to wear such fun fashion: Daughters of the King, Leaf Raking parties, Harvest Parties, Harvest Dinners...
I love the traditions of fall. We decorate for fall and I get to pull out all the beautiful things that I sadly put away the day after Thanksgiving last year. It makes the whole house feel warm and cozy. Plus, my DH makes fires in the fire place that crackle and pop. We also have "popcorn Thursday." We pop the kernels on the stove and enjoy it with apple cider while we watch The Office. One of my favorite traditions in fall was, at one time, being at a football game and marching with the band a half time. Since those days have past me by, I now enjoy falling asleep on the couch while football is on TV. I like to open the window just enough to need a blanket to snuggle in.
Fall food is incredible! Chili and cornbread, pot roasts, stews, stuffed peppers, pumpkin and apple pies and donuts and cider. There is something about fall that makes me want to spend all day baking! Of course, with the food comes the outings to pick apples and hayrides to find perfect pumpkins-both of which I have done this year, baby in tow.
It may go against the girly-girl thing. but there is something magical about being outside in the fall. The air is just cool enough and there is the faintest sweetness mixed with wood smoke aroma in the air. There is something about the way the blue sky mixes with the colors of the leaves and evergreens that speaks to me. I am so glad that God has given us the ability to appreciate the beauty of his creation.
Sometimes I think I might be happy if fall was all year, but then I think that it might not be so special to me. So, I'll take it for the short time it is here and try to love every day of it. I'm sure that by the time the last leaves fall and the snow begins, I'll be ready for the winter (is pink a winter color?).
Saturday, October 9, 2010
To a First Time Mother,
I received this poem in a card. It touched my heart, and I hope it touches yours as well.
Relax my dear, your little elf
Relax my dear, your little elf is just an amateur himself.
So if your hands, so newly filled with tasks
Seem somewhat less than skilled,
Relax, I say. This little pinkling
Doesn't have the slightest inkling
That you are new to baby lore--
He's never had a MOM before.
Author Unknown
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Think Pink!
So I was reading a friend's blog and I began to wonder, "Could I do this?" And I think the answer is, "Yes!" But, I am not really sure if I am "blogger" and if anyone will read this or be interested in what I have to say about the world around me. But, I suppose even if I do not turn out be be a blogger, I will still have an outlet for all the stuff that runs through my head from day to day, so here it goes...
I may not be a blogger, but I am a girl.
I should rephrase that: I am not just saying that I am a female. I am not saying that I am a wife and mother (both of which I am), I am saying that I am a girly-girl.
That's right, I am girly to the core. My favorite color is pink and I love shoes and handbags. I would get a manicure and a pedicure every week if I could. I love to read about fashion and watch shows like Project Runway and What Not to Wear. I love to shop for clothes and make up and shoes and handbags and accessories.
If I have an option to get something in pink, I do. I have a pink laptop, camera, violin case, iPod, handbags and shoes. I even have a pink feather boa, a pink DVD player, and a pink highlight in my hair. The only reason I do not have a completely pink apartment is because my husband said, "NO!"
I think my friends all talk about me and roll their eyes behind my back about this, and I am sure my sister does, but at the end of the day, they are still my friends and still support my insanity.
So, I may not be a blogger, but I am a girly-girl.
I may not be a blogger, but I am a girl.
I should rephrase that: I am not just saying that I am a female. I am not saying that I am a wife and mother (both of which I am), I am saying that I am a girly-girl.
That's right, I am girly to the core. My favorite color is pink and I love shoes and handbags. I would get a manicure and a pedicure every week if I could. I love to read about fashion and watch shows like Project Runway and What Not to Wear. I love to shop for clothes and make up and shoes and handbags and accessories.
If I have an option to get something in pink, I do. I have a pink laptop, camera, violin case, iPod, handbags and shoes. I even have a pink feather boa, a pink DVD player, and a pink highlight in my hair. The only reason I do not have a completely pink apartment is because my husband said, "NO!"
I think my friends all talk about me and roll their eyes behind my back about this, and I am sure my sister does, but at the end of the day, they are still my friends and still support my insanity.
So, I may not be a blogger, but I am a girly-girl.
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