Blogs, Chickens, and Yarn Pyramids

Oh my darling bloginites! How I have missed all of your wonderful IP addresses! Just kidding I am not that smart (or am I). I have however missed bitching about everything I can think of- and that is why I think most of you read this.  Not to hear me bitch but to relate.... or maybe you just like to listen to someone else have a miserable life so you feel better about yours. Who knows- but I do know you ended up here one way or another and that is why I will continue to type away.

I have also decided to put a spin on things here on the farm.  I think I might supplement some days with a vlog entry. And who doesn't like a little one on one action with the face? You take that anyway you want to.  But in all seriousness some days I don't have time to type up a long little blobby post so yelling at my camera sounds better.  Today you get a little taste of that down at the bottom.  Whoa innuendos all around today.

So the fiance and I have been discussing the house situation for when he gets back from his little overseas adventure.  We aren't buying a house until he gets back so we have plenty of time to discuss what we want and what we can afford blah blah.  And so far my input has been nil to not helpful at all.  I have decided we will be having chickens at our house.  Come on how amazing would that be? Fresh eggs all the time and really on the level of ease, chickens are not nearly as expensive as lets say a cow or horse.... although I would kill for those animals too.  But I am being realistic for what we can actually raise.  I also keep joking (not joking) about bringing them inside to relax with us.  He totally thinks I am not being serious- but I half expect him to find me in the mudroom one day hanging out with the chickens. A little mama love with the poultry.  I also want a goat- we can name him Billy Bob.  He also thinks I am kidding about this. I don't think he realizes who he is marrying.

Some of you who have been here on the farm for awhile now (catching on that that is what i am calling this place yet?) know I am an avid knitter.  I believe I mentioned the giant blanket I was knitting the fiance.  If not then- hey! I knit my fiance a huge blanket and now I am going to show you! Hahaha, very subtle am I right?

He is such a wonderful model- am I right?

I also managed to knock out my nephew a hat right before the holidays as an added Christmas present.  I thought the sizing would be perfect since he grows like a weed- but he might need another year before his noggin fits into this bad boy.  The sizing was for kids so I guess I shouldn't be disappointed he can't sport my work quite yet.  

His mom has the inverted version of this hat as well.

And now my current project has resulted in a pyramid of yarn in the corner of my room.  I know, my adiction is getting so great it is taking up space in rooms.  It's almost like hoarding.  But you know you have a problem when you and the fiance are sitting at Michael's and you ring up $180 worth of yarn and between your rewards points and coupons you get it all for $50.  Sad part about this is I still need more yarn for this project. Yes you heard right- this project is going to need about 26 skeins of yarn annnnnd I only have 18.  Oh yay.  But I figured I should dwindle down the pyramid before I start a second one... or before the fiance actually stats to object to my giant yarn piles.  

Its chunky yarn- that is why I need so much.

But enough is enough my darlings. I have a giant blanket to get to knitting.  But I will leave you with my tidbit of vlog just like I promised. Go pour yourself some wine and drink up- I am currently sipping some Relax Riesling from you guessed it, a mason jar.  Stay classy my darlings. 

Banana Bread and Beginnings

Tossed away in the back of your ques rested this blog.... Dormant and lacking love. UNTIL NOW! Guess who's making their come back? Boom. Y'all miss me? Some of you may remember my random, explicit filled blogs that discussed food and liquor. Some of you didn't tune in until I was a mom and the blogs were still filled with explicits and liquor. And mom things. And for my loyals- y'all remember when this blog wasn't called Mama Tried. Those were dark days. But everyone has to start somewhere. So what's been going since I last left you... Well hmm. For starters I'm still losing that baby weight.

Whoever said it takes a year was a liar. Hope their pants burned right off. But I'm sure most women were more active than I was at first. But never fear! I've restarted my yoga practice and have lots of little bits and bites for you there. 

Also- school? Oh boy let me tell you. Whatever dream land I was living in that made me thought as a single mom with a newborn I could tackle nursing school must have been pretty. But here in the real world I realized I couldn't tackle both at once and think about working. Enter stage right, the best opportunity that could have arose. I now work in a dispatch center for my county's ambulances and love it. And because I wouldn't be me if i didn't have a plate full, I'm also going to EMT school and being the single parent I've been. 

Speaking of single parent- little miss EM is a weed. She has seriously sprouted up and over to the moon! Almost two now she's climbing and running and how could I forget, talking. And I mean she talks. All day. All night. Wakes up and still talks. It's like she doesn't know what silence is. Unless of course she's getting into something. Then suddenly silence. Funny how that works isn't it? 

But the most important thing (and something new to touch this blog) is my struggle with mental illness. I'm not one to talk about it or even admit to it but it seems that this might be the best thing to do. I know not many people like to discuss their issues but when you have people like me who Google and Google for hours searching for ANYONE who feels like you- it sucks that no one will just talk about it. And let's face it- it can be an ugly topic. That being said I'm going to lower walls that haven't ever been lowered before and hopefully I'll help someone out there to know they don't have to be alone. I realized over a year ago I had something going on mentally but never wanted to deal with it. Shit I still don't. But it's time to stop playing for just me and start playing for the little girl who depends on me. The yoga however is just for me. 

So quick review; new house, new job, new school, new goals, new outlook on life? Lots to talk about. Where to begin? 

At banana bread. Because everything is better with banana bread. And because I just happened to feel motivated halfway through writing this and decided to crank out so bread. That's what normal people do, right? No? Well. Without more rambling, here is the recipe for a most delicious bread (and if you feel rebellious like I did- throw some chocolate chips in there). 

I decided to make this at 8 at night so there was no way I was dragging out my mixer. And really you don't need to- use those arm muscles ya mama gave ya!

Ingredients
- 3 very ripe bananas, peeled
- 1/3 cup melted butter
- 1 cup of sugar
- 1 egg, beaten
- 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
- 1 teaspoon baking soda
- 1 1/2 cups all purpose flour
- pinch of salt

Preheat that little oven to 350 degrees and butter a 4x8 loaf pan.

In a mixing bowl, mash the ripe bananas with a fork until smooth. Stir the melted butter with the bananas until mixed together.

Mix in the baking soda and salt.  Stir in the sugar ,beaten egg, and vanilla extract. Mix in the flour.

Pour the batter into your prepared loaf pan.  Bake for 1 hour to 1 hour and 10 minutes (check at 50 minutes). Loaf is done when you can insert a tester and it comes out clean.

Remove from oven and cool completely on a rack.  Remove the banana bread from the pan. The first slice of warm bread is always the best.

I will be honest, I was out of baking soda and used baking powder.  The ratio to do this is for very 1 teaspoon of baking soda needed, use 4 teaspoons of baking powers.  Not sure if this will be able to be carried into every recipe so use with caution.  But definitely turned out wonderful with this one!

Until next time my lovelies!

Mercilessly Plugging Myself

Don't you hate when people promote themselves? Yea, so do I. But that isn't going to stop me! For about a month now I have been getting my Etsy shop back up and running from when he who we do not speak up ran it into the ground.  He caused me many bad reviews, and I have remedied all but one.  But, that won't stop me.

So, my shameless plug! I have realized there is this demand for mothers who work gruesome hours to put on this big show for their children's parties.  However, unless you're a stay at home mom who really has the time to make tutus and Olaf cupcakes?  How about those cute Jake and the Nederland Pirate nick nacks? Or the chalk board stat board to boast about your child's teeth and favorite foods? 

I do.  As a stay at home mom it allows me to make all those things you don't have time for.  And who has to know that it came from me?  No one, thats who.  My current favorite thing to make are those adorable tuts I mentioned previously.  Because, what is cuter than a child in a tutu? Nothing. 

Look at that face.  Who can deny that?  What makes this photo? The tutu.  Okay, maybe I a fibbing, its my daughter haha but really now, you know that is a stinking cute photo.  

So, lets say you aren't throwing the party but going to one... what do you get the child who has everything (like my LO).  Something handmade is always better than plastic and impersonal.  But who has that time? Yep, me again. I make hats, dresses, mittens, headbands. You name it I make it.  My current two projects are a crown and barefoot boho sandals.  I am dying to break those bad boys out!  

So where can you see all these wonderful things? Here of course! If you have any questions, or want something custom made just shoot me a message and I can discuss any ideas with you!  Hope to see you soon!

Thank You

Part of me never thought I would thank you.  For everything you have put me through, everything I have dealt with, the names I have been called, the looks I have received.  I never thought I would ever even write this... I know it will never be read by you, and honestly I don't think I ever intended for it to be.  Maybe this is me raising my voice for those who might have been in my situation or are still going through it.  

First off, let me thank you for the year we had together.  I really learned who I was.  And I don't mean who I was with you.  I learned the true meaning of a dollar, the true worth of someone's word.  I accomplished a dream of mine, getting to work in the medical field.  I started school back up, something I never thought I would get back into.  I purchased my first car, threw down my first down payment on a place, and even experienced what penny pinching was.  

Thank you for cheating on me. 

Honestly.

You introduced me to self preservation. It's not that I won't trust anyone anymore, but now I will do so more deliberately.  You forced me to leave the comfort I knew and forced me to make decisions for myself, who I truly am, not who I was trying to be.  I realized I could be with someone so much better, myself.  Thank you for taking all the furniture and leaving me with blankets, a TV and the cable.  You taught me how to find joy with nothing.  And ultimately you forced me to move back closer to my family.  That was a blessing I didn't even know about at the time.  

Thank you for the weekend we spent together months after we split.  "Trying to see how it felt" was just an excuse to get into my bed, and it worked.  Call me sentimental, but I guess memories of happiness allowed you to walk right past my walls.  However, it finalized in my mind that we would never be able to work, and that it was a good thing our engagement fell apart.  But above that, it gave me my most prized possession. You gave me our daughter. 

I know you don't see her as yours, quite frankly I believe your exact words when I called you to tell you the news were, "Fuck off."  I cried, scared that she would blame me for you not wanting to be around.  Blame me for you choosing to be a dad to your girlfriend's daughter and not your own.  And then it hit me; it was a blessing.  I would never have to share those hugs or her kisses she gives while nuzzling her head into your cheek.  Only my chest would she fall asleep on.  Sharing a bed would mean with her only.  When she is older and has a boo-boo, I will be the only one she runs to.  I don't have to share late night snuggles or early morning giggles.  

Sure, there is no one to share the spit up with, or help with the midnight crying while I take too long to make a bottle.  No one to take shifts on diapers or maybe hold her while I mop up my own sleep deprived tears at 3 am.  But I'm glad.  I wouldn't trade any of this for the world.  She makes me a better person.  Everything I do in my life, I do for this little girl.  No longer am I striving to be better for a man, but for a little girl with the most brilliant blues eyes like her mama.  In her eyes, I am a hero.  

I am both mom and dad.  I will hold her while she cries over the boy, and then hunt him down.  I will do her hair for prom, and then threaten her date that on time really means 5 minutes early.  I am both the maternal love and paternal strength.  I am capable of anything.  And it was thanks to your lack of responsibility and compassion that I am able to see this.  Your selfishness has shown me how to be the most amazing person I could ever imagine becoming.  One day she will be old enough to see who raised her, who made the sacrifices for her.  

See, you left me and her behind.  You have your own life now and have happily moved on with your life.  And for all of this I thank you.  Thank you for showing me the real man you are.  Thank you for leaving and showing me that I deserved so much more than you.  Thank you for stepping aside so a man who is better suited for the situation could step up to the plate you so sheepishly ran from; someone who offered to help instead of being scared of the situation.  Thank you for showing me that my happily ever after is with a little girl who scrunches her nose when she smiles while she shares her puffs with the dog.

A Spoonful of Sugar

I feel like I may have watched Mary Poppins too many times growing up.  I truly do believe that something with a high enough sugar content can make any shitty situation completely better.  Think about it, what was the best part of going to birthday parties? It wasn't watching your friend get cooler toys than you.  It was the cake.  What do they give kids after they get shots at the doctors office? A sucker, unless you had my pediatrician growing who gave you band aides and stickers. Yea I was deprived as a child.  What do pregnant women crave? Sweet stuff in every variety .  Face it, I am right and you know it.  Well, Mary Poppins was right.... I guess I'm just riding the coat tails in this one.  With that being established though, I had a shitty day yesterday.  One of those days where the stress just boils over.  And I am sure we all have our vices and knacks that we go to to relieve stress.  Normally I would power smoke a pack a cigarettes while baking enough for a small town.  Seeing as I am cutting back in all things in that statement, I only baked enough for half of that town.  Because not only do I bake when I am under a lot of strews, but duh! Sweet things are the cure to my shitty day. 

I actually started off cooking.  I guess you can call it cooking.... I made tuna pasta.  Basic little ditty really.  Celery, onions, frozen peas, tuna, sour cream, mayonnaise, and of course noodles.  Now I use these cute little noodles, they're like little bands and super adorable.  I don't even know the correct name for this noodle because I literally call them the tuna noodles.  Its a simple and quick dish that it a summer time staple really. You need it in your life. Are you doubting this? You're missing out, I promise.

But then of course I needed to bake some sweets.  I started off cheating, and thought that baking ore made cookie dough would suffice. Sadly, or maybe dumbly (is that even a word?) I was wrong.  I should have known better haha.  So it was time to whip up a batch of homemade cookies.  And of course I choose peanut butter because no one can go wrong with peanut butter.  Well, I guess if you're allergic you could go wring with peanut butter..... but most people can't go wrong with peanut butter. So on went the apron and on to baking we went.

For this recipe you're going to need:
3 cups all-purpose flour
2 teaspoons baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
16 tablespoons (2 sticks) unsalted butter, at room temperature
3/4 cup sugar
1 1/4 cups packed dark brown sugar
2 large eggs
1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1 cup creamy or crunchy peanut butter (I use creamy, but I have heard amazing things about crunchy)

I don't believe in double cookie sheets going at once.  I know this drags out the process but honestly if you want to perfect cookie, you need your rack in the center of the oven and only work with one sheet at a time.  With that being said, preheat your oven to 350°F.  Go ahead and butter (or Pam) your cookie sheets.  Whisk together your flour, baking soda and salt in a medium to large size bowl and set it off to the side. 
Now its time to pull out the old electric mixer.  You want to mix beat your butter with both sugars for about three minutes on medium speed until it becomes light and fluffy.  Next you're going to reduce speed slightly and add the eggs and the vanilla; beat until smooth a d well combined.  Scrape down the sides of the bowl.  Reduce speed to low and beat I n the flour mixture in two parts so as not to overwhelm the mixer (and make it easier on yourself).  Mix until its combines evenly. 

When you're adding the floor, make sure you go slow or you will end up with flour on your feet like I managed to do....

Roll one inch balls and place on your cookie sheet.  Flatten each ball by pressing the tined of a fork into a crisscross pattern.  Don't squish all the way down or you will have very crunchy, paper thin cookies.  Bake for 13 minutes, or until golder brown on bottom and barely colored on top.  Cool on pan for 5 minutes before transferring to a cooling rack.  Allow to completely cool. 

And voila! You have amazing peanut butter cookies! This recipe makes an obscene 80 cookies or so.  Make sure you have a crowd who will devour them, mine were gone within two days.  Yes its possible.  And no I didn't eat them all.

My tip, between each sheet of cookies, pace your self.  I normally took the out and let the cool for five minutes.  Then I waited another five before trying to put more cookie dough on that sheet,  otherwise your dough melts before you even get it into the over.  And who wants a gooey mess?  These cookies would be great during Christmas or just because you need some sugar.  Definitely a great rainy project for the kids! Hopefully y'all enjoy and it brings some sunshine to your afternoon. 

Coffee, God and Cigarettes

Does anyone else have this almost morning ritual?  I have had the same morning ritual for about five or so years now (with a few tweaks here and there). Every morning I get up and pour myself a nice cup o' Joe with a splash of creamer, sit down and hop on tumblr.  I'm not sure if it's the combination of something visual instead of reading that I prefer or the fact that sometimes I just need to look at a fitblr (for those who aren't familiar, that is a fitness blog on tumblr) for some extra motivation to get through the day, but tumblr has never been replaced with a newspaper or even an ebook.  However, now with a little one I have come to  realize how important those rituals can be.  We have fallen into a pattern (at only 3 months) and everyday like clockwork we stick right to it.  And no matter what I do to change this routine, the NICU made her sleep and eating patterns and she has not (a stubborn little one) been willing to let these times go.  

So you may ask what this NICU schedule was? Basically she ate at 1, 4, 7, 10 and repeat. Now I have been blessed by the Gods with an extremely good baby.  At 3 months (almost) she sleeps through the night. We haven't perfected night time yet but hey once she goes down, she is down for the night.  But our morning routine is a little like this...

6:30- Wake up and demand breakfast in bed right NOW

7:00- Now I want you to dance with me to whatever is playing on CMT 

7:30- Did I say stop?

7:45- This room is boring now, remind me what the rest of the house looks like

8:00- Now we will go outside or I will cry until we do. 

8:15- Let's cuddle on the couch, oh and I want 2 more ounces of milk

8:45- Oh it's 8:45 AM? More like PM, goodnight. 

By nine we are back asleep until at least about eleven.  Which gives me the perfect time for coffee and tumblr to unwind and finish waking up before I launch into my school books and take advantage of the sleeping beast.  Now as for the rest of the day its a crap shoot.  Lately we have been boycotting our afternoon nap so I have a cranky baby by 5, but that normally is cured by new people getting home from work.  Ya know, cause mom gets boring after awhile.  We are also going through a mommy stage, which means that during the day I better have that sling out and handy because if she isn't touching me, she isn't having it.  Only for someone so cute would I put up with that.  

Now on a completely unrelated note, I have found a song that speaks to my morning routine (not the routine with my child).  And as the song goes, those things really are the only things that keep me sane some days when the stress is just too much. 

I'll just leave that right here.... yea, right there. That works for me. 

And Tonight, Mommy Needed a Drink

There are always those days that you just sink into the couch at the end of the night and know that you deserve a drink.  Lately the little one had just been crying up a storm.  I am not sure who thought the terrible two's were the worst; but honestly I would take a child throwing a temper tantrum any day to a child who can't tell you why they're crying.  And then there are always those special nights where you have been run so ragged you can't tell ice cubes to Legos.

Lately the little one seems to know when I am trying to put her down for a nap, or the night.  And it is really starting to run me ragged.  How can someone so small be so smart?  Is this Baby Genius?  She will do anything to get out of sleeping.  She will start cooing so sweetly, smiling her little happy face right off.  Then she breaks out the A game, she reaches out and start holding your hand, or cuddling into the crook of your neck.  She is quite the little player to try and get what she wants.  And of course when all else fails she resorts to straight screaming until she is bright red and gasping for breath.

The struggle the other night just happened to be her ability to wake up at the most inopportune times.  No matter what we did her little eyes would pop right back open the second you tried to do anything other than give her your full and devoted attention.  Which is great, if you haven't been holding it for three hours, and now you need to go NOW.  So while you're doing the dance down the hallway, only inches from freedom, she starts to wail.  Normally I would just quick pee and run to her, a few moments of crying won't hurt her.  But she has been battling a cold and when she starts crying she gets so fired up she stops breathing.  Yea, its serious to her.  So I can't fathom letting her cry for even a moment.  But I can proudly say I have now mastered pulling down pants with one hand, seeing as you can't hold it forever... and she just had to come with.

Our new favorite game she likes to play is to projectile shoot the pacifier out of her mouth at the dog.  Only at the dog. Because apparently the dog is the best target.

That is love on both of their faces...

But as fun a Spa-tooey is (that is what we named her new favorite game), she has been an absolute doll with allowing me to study.  She has no problem curling up and listening to me talk about different body parts or the construction of the body.  As long as I am talk, she doesn't fuss.  And they said you're supposed to read to your children, they never specified as to what you're supposed to read.  Watch ten years from now you'll find out I did her right haha!  One can only hope; I mean we all damage our kids, one could hope something good comes from what we're doing! 

Now back to that drink? Just in case you needed a new one for the back to school weeks, I have one just for y'all! It's called the Slutty Soccer Mom.  It's 2 oz. vodka, 1 part grape juice and 1 part cherry juice. Come on, don't play dumb, you know you have all those ingredients in your van right now... including the vodka. 

Miracles Come in Different Forms

A few months later and I have neglected my page, but for good reason.  I finally had that precious little girl I have been talking about.  Yes, Ella Mae was born into the world on May 31st at 5:31 AM.  She weighed in at 9 pounds and 6 ounces, measuring 22 inches long.  She was not little baby!

So many wires... definitely scary!

After much thought, I have decided to share with you how my labor went.  A lot went wrong with my delivery and I and hoping to share this experience with you and you can prepare yourself.  In no way do I intend to scare anyone.  I know during the last few months of my pregnancy everyone thought this was the best time to share their horror stories with me.  Most were just women complaining they had the WORST contractions ever, and how I would be miserable etc.  But looking back, those were not true horror stories, and I found that most women have a true horror story, don't walk around telling their story.  I also found that sometimes, going through something really hard like a horrible labor and then your child spending time in the NICU can make you friends that are more important than anything.  

I am going to start this off by telling you that I wanted a natural birth, with no medical interventions. My entire pregnancy I wanted no pain medications, I really wanted nature to take it's course.  However during my second trimester I began to have complications.  Little miss had a cyst on her brain and I was having problems with keeping hydrated.  Then around 31 weeks I began having contractions.  Over the next 8 weeks, I was in and out of the hospital with regular contractions, each time they would monitor her and make sure she was doing okay, since this could have put too much stress on her little body.  Around 33 weeks I was put on complete bed rest, only allowing 30 minutes to get food and pee a day.  Once I hit 35 weeks, my high risk doctor was concerned the cyst was still there, so my OB decided to have me going in every five days or so for a NST (non-stress test, or fetal monitoring).  

One of the many NST's

I went in on a Thursday morning for a check up, I was 39 weeks and 5 days.  I was only 1 cm dilated and had been having string contractions since the previous night; my doctor was highly concerned.  When she checked her heart rate it was slightly low.  Between her heart rate being low, the contractions that had been going on for almost 10 weeks, and the fact that they were not helping the labor progress had her concerned.  She decided that it was time to induce me.  Now since I wanted my labor to be natural she suggested we start with the Cervidil pill, and that should help speed things along.  We discussed that since her heart rate was low she wanted to keep me in the hospital until I gave birth.  After the pill, if it didn't work we would go to the gel.  I was never okay with Pitocin, as this can bring the contractions on too suddenly and can harm the baby.  I went home, made a few phone calls and then it was off the the hospital for me.  That night was the hardest to get sleep.  Between the uncomfortable bed to the nerves coursing through my body, I was wide awake.  If you don't know anything about Cervidil, once administered you can not walk for the first 4 hours, and they take it back out after 12 hours and check your dilation to see if it helped or not.  

At 4 AM my nurse came in and removed the pill, and I had no progress.  She then went out to the nurses station and called my doctor.  When she came back in she started to adjust my IV, and before I realized it (it was about 4:30 AM and I was only half awake) she was administering Pitocin.  So now as you can imagine I am extremely upset since that was the last thing that I have ever wanted.  By 8 AM I am at maximum dosage and there is no progress.  My doctor comes in and tells me she wants to break my water.  I have my concerns but I ask her why she wants to and what the benefits are of having this procedure done.  She told me that my daughters stress was starting to show and that by breaking my water that it would help speed labor along naturally as it would just move her down father in my uterus against my cervix and help to dilate me.  My biggest question was, is there a time limit that once expired I would have to have a cesarean?  She talk me that there was not a time limit, but that once my water was broken I could not go home. She kept hounding and hounding so I finally gave in.  At 9 AM Friday she broke my water.  

Throughout the day she increased my dosage of Pitocin until it was double the maximum dosage.  My contractions were hard and strong, yet they were not doing anything.  I tried breathing through them, I tried walking, I tried my labor ball.  Nothing was working or helping.  I was running on 2 hours of sleep and the exhaustion was setting in.  My contractions were 2 minutes long and I was only getting about 15 to 20 seconds between each one.  Normally they should last about one and a half minutes and you should get about a minute between when you are 7-10 centimeters and ready to push.  I was only 2 centimeters.  At 8 that night I finally gave in.  After almost 48 hours of labor, I told the nurse to call for the epidural.  Before you give me grief for giving in too soon and everything else, let me explain my reasoning.  I had no sleep under my belt, keeping my mind off the pain was becoming harder and harder to do.  It was consuming me.  I was also only 2 centimeters.  I had hours to go before I was ready to push, and even if I magically jumped to 10 centimeters I had no energy to push.  I knew that I needed sleep.  

The anesthesiologist came with the epidural, and I was terrified to say the least.  I am petrified of needles, and I knew how big that needle was and where it was going.  I have to say, he was such a sweetheart, trying to crack jokes to keep my mind off of things.  Right as he administered the local anesthetic I began to have a contraction.  I was screaming in pain, I could feel the medicine burning at the same time as the contraction.  He then told me he was going to put in the epidural needle.  He missed the spot the first time and I was in searing pain.  He backed out the needle and tried again, this time with success.  With each contraction, the pain got less and less.  I climbed back into bed and once my contractions were only able to be seen on the monitor and no longer felt, I passed out for about 4 hours.  When I finally woke up, I was hoping to have progressed some.  I was still just 3 centimeters.  I felt distraught.  As the night progressed nurse after nurse checked me.  I slowly climbed; 3, 4, 5.  I finally felt like things were coming along.  

My face after the epidural took effect

At about 3 during shift change my new nurse came in.  She checked me and I was hoping for a 6, and to be finally more than half way there.  To my surprise I was back to a 3!  I have no idea how I can regress, she claims I was never a 5 and that the nurse must have been lying to me.  She went back out the the nurses station and about 20 minutes later she came rushing back in with a handful of papers and informed me that they had decided to do a cesarean.  The next thing I know there are 4 other nurses in the room prepping me for surgery.  I yelled for everyone to stop.  I was furious.  I had no consented to this and was beyond pissed this was happening.  My doctor came in and explained that I had spiked a fever and that it suggested an infection, and since my water was broken this could be bad news for baby.  She was also showing signs of stress.  But her biggest reason for the surgery was the fact that I had been rupture for so long.  This set me off, since I was told it didn't matter how long I was ruptured for.  Then we found out that they hadn't given me enough fluids, so they began pushing bag after bag of fluids just so they could up my epidural.  I was shaking violently I was so terrified. My heart rate was stuck at 180, and nothing they said could calm me down.  As the wheeled me off to the OR, my person was still putting on scrubs to come back to the room with me.  

As they prepped me in the OR my shaking continued.  My heart rate was up to 220, and I now had a new set of nurses and a new anesthesiologist. He was also a sweetheart and tried to crack jokes with me and calm me down.  He allowed me to have my arms free and unrestrained since I was already a nervous wreck.  They started the surgery before my person was in the room with me.  Unfortunately everything after this point gets fuzzy, and I will explain why.  I began to bleed uncontrollably on the table.  In the haste to get my daughter out, they ripped my incision site.  They got her out onto the table and everyone laughed as I guess she stretched all her limbs out.  However she wasn't breathing right so the nurses whisked her away. I was bleeding horribly internally and it became extremely hard to breathe.  And suddenly I felt EVERYTHING.  It felt like they were tearing everything or stabbing me.  I started screaming and crying in agony.  My doctor wanted them to push Versed.  My anesthesiologist argued, he was afraid I wouldn't remember anything and didn't want to give me it.  They had to push 6 units of Versed before I was no longer in pain.  I then passed out.  I never got to see my daughter.  

   As she was starting the stretch

I woke up to my doctor talking to me, but she sounded like the Peanuts teacher.  I can barely remember her making any sense at all, she sounded like, "Wah wah wah baby girl wah wah 9 pounds wah wah good job wah wah mom."  Yupp, that is all I understood.  I promptly passed back out and woke up in recovery with a woman yelling at me to move my feet.  I asked how my daughter was and she told me she was perfectly healthy, and waiting in my room to meet me and all I had to do was be able to move my feet and that I could then go back.  I struggled for the next hour to get my damn feet to move.  She finally gave in and told me it was close enough (since I could only move one foot and one toe on the other foot).  As she started to wheel me to my room, he shift replacement showed up.  The following conversation took place between the women.  "Is this room 184?" "Yea, were headed up there now so she can see her baby." "Oh! Her baby is in the NICU, didn't you know?"  And that is how I  found out my daughter was in the NICU.  I started to freak out.  We got to my room and my family greeted me with pictures of my daughter.  This was one of the harder moments during this, to know everyone else had seen her and yet I hadn't. 

But the hits kept coming, I started having clotting complications.  The nurses then informed me that I could not go down and see my baby for a minimum of 6 hours.  This meant that it was 8 in the morning now and it would be a minimum of 2 PM before I could see my daughter.  I burst into tears.  People were taking turns going down to see my daughter and bringing me back videos and pictures.  But nothing would compare to seeing her for the first time.  Finally the nurse came back and told me that if I wanted to see my daughter, that I would have to stand up and walk to the bathroom by myself to be cleared.  So 6 hours after major surgery I was forced to walk.  I think she was doubting my ability.  But I forced myself to stand and walk to the bathroom door, tears streaming down my face the whole time.  But I was cleared and down to the NICU I went. 

The first moment I held her.

It was hard to see her in all of those wires.  She was NPO (which means nothing by mouth) for the first day.  Which of course meant no breast feeding.  But I pumped for when she could start eating.  She was in the NICU for one whole week.  I stayed in the hospital the entire time with her.  I went down for every feeding.  I made friends with another girl who had her son the same morning in a very similar situation to mine.  Her NICU stay was hard on everyone and I am glad she became healthy and could go home.  The wait was worth it though.  

I am thinking about going into the problems we ran into with the NICU in another post, let me know if you guys would be interested in it.  I hope this helps someone out there.  I guess what I am trying to convey is, no matter what your birth plan is, be prepared for anything.  I never researched a c-section so when it came time to go into it, I had no idea what to expect or how to mentally prepare myself.  I wish I had known more about rupturing of the membranes and Pitocin prior to going into the hospital.  Hopefully you can learn from my mistakes and make yourself prepared for the unknown, and don't be so hard on yourself if it doesn't go your way.  But my biggest word of wisdom here if things don't go as planned? You are not defective, it is not your fault, and you did not do anything wrong!  I felt like it was all my fault, and I felt like a failure as a mother and just plain defective.  But you can't feel this way! Stay positive! You will get through it!  Much love y'all, can't wait to start blogging about baby things now!  

The day we finally got to go home!