Hello World....Here we Are!

The day following our departure from the hospital was filled with appointments and tests for Elle & tears and frustration for myself....


We had to be a Northside Outpatient bright and early. Elle was born with jaundice & spent the four days of our hospital stay doing phototherapy to address it. By the end of our stay her level was low enough for her to go home, sans the phototherapy bed which FYI the hospital was going to send us home with if need be. Luckily, that wasn't necessary. But we had to make sure that her progress was still moving in the right direction hence our visit back to Northside. When we arrived my sweet girl was sound asleep and bundled up which made me uneasy when it came time to peel off the layers so that her little foot could get pricked. But to my surprise she didn't cry at all! I was such a proud mama :)


Before I lead you to believe that I was cool, calm and collected let me be honest. I cried in the waiting room. First, I was in a lot of pain. I hadn't gotten my prescriptions filled yet and the meds I had taken before leaving the hospital had worn off. Every step, breath & cough was extremely painful enough to cause tears on there own but let's not forget to factor in my emotional state. I didn't like not being able to drive, I couldn't carry Elle in the car seat because it was way to heavy, and I was walking like a eighty year old lady. Que the waterworks! But after I expressed that to my mom and Don I felt A LOT better and was able to move through the rest of the day with no problem. After the hospital we went and had breakfast. This is what my babygirl spent the day looking like...quiet and peaceful.

Our next appointment was with the pediatrician. I spent the visit taking pictures of everything from her head being measured to her being weighed. One of my favorite moments was when Elle made a bowel movement as we waited for the doctor. Just when we thought she was done, she wasn't! As my mom was telling me to put down the camera and get some wipes and a new pad I kept clicking away. Since you probably don't want to see it I'll spare you. Guess it's just one of the things only a mother can appreciate. Our pediatrican is absolutely fabulous! I met her over the summer and knew right away that she was a perfect fit for us.



Here she is with my Elle :)




Our final stop of the day was at Wal-Mart which meant time to get mom some much needed medicine! I was in so much pain that there was no way I could walk around so my mom pushed me around in a wheelchair...gotta love moms!

XOXO

November 28th, 8:45pm

When I left the doctor's office on Wednesday (11/24) this is what I knew: my dr. talked to the nurse about her inappropriate-ness & apologized, he was impressed with the e-mail I sent him and didn't think the title "Receptionist" was doing me any justice (LOVES IT! PS-one day I will be "Office Manager") BUT most importantly I could go into labor ANY day.

Thanksgiving came and went. It was a really good day. Just me, mom, don & grams. Lots of good food, delicious apple cobbler and a ton of rest.

Saturday marked a very important day for my Georgia Bulldogs, we were scheduled to play Tech at 8:00. Nothing better then a good ol' in-state rivalry and a prime-time time slot. I did manage to get some cleaning and organizing in even though it was more like doing stuff for five or ten minutes then laying down for a half-hour. Not exactly productivity at its finest but it's all I had to give.

Telling this story in hindsight comes with pros & cons. On one hand I can close my eyes and remember it like it was yesterday but not being able to do this in the moment makes me feel like I'm bound to leave something out. But here goes nothing...

Contractions hurt! Hurt doesn't really do the most excruciating pain I've ever felt in my life quite the justice it deserves. So just to make sure I'm being clear here are some synonyms of the word hurt: aggrieved, agonized, busted up, impaired, in pain, suffering, unhappy, etc., etc., so on and so forth. Looking back on conversations I had about pregnancy and birth the topic of contractions was very conveniently skipped. I. Understand. I think I've done as good as job as I could in conveying this to my girlfriends because as the days past it's honestly becoming more of a distant memory. Here's to forgetting and at the same time remembering all that pain brings life into the world. All I can say is I'm honored to be following in the path of the women before me...lol.
When the first contraction hit I knew it meant get the hell up and get to the hospital. Here's the thing though, I looked an utter mess & my hospital bag was only half packed. Ironically, what was in the bag had been put there the night before. So when I thought it was safe I got up, changed my outfit, fixed my hair, spruced up my face and made it next door to where my parents were all before the next contraction hit. I sat at the top of the stairs and called my doctor. Contraction. I moved to the couch and through another contraction spoke with the advice nurse who ultimately said, "Ma'am call your doctor and go to the hospital." In the car and exiting the subdivision I heard from my doctor. Insert relief. The ride to the hospital can at best be described as hilarious. I sent some texts and did manage to talk on the phone twice. My mom and grams had a conversation about a thrift store my grams had went to earlier in the day. It was in buckhead and definitely on the nicer side of thrift establishments. Grams said they had nice coats/jackets for five or six bucks and my mom asks if that included furs. All I could do was laugh. Really mom? Grams busts out with if that were the case she would have bought one. Finally...driving down 285. In all I had three contractions. Yelling, crying, gripping the side of the seat for dear life, breathing and this on repeat in my head..."it's your first baby. this is going to take some time." Please say it ain't so.
The hospital tour paid off as we sped up to the Labor and Delivery entrance. Turned on the hazards. I opened the car door, stood up and quickly realized I needed to sit back down and wait for the wheelchair patiently. As I'm rolled up to the check-in desk, contraction, tears, and the filling out of paperwork. Just a few minutes go by and I've got my room assignment and me and my mom are in route. I get my instructions to disrobe & soon have two very constricting and uncomfortable straps around my stomach monitoring mine and Elle's vitals. Now when the contractions hit there is a machine that shows it beginning and ending. Comforting huh? I'm laying on my side crying. Everyone is telling me to breathe through the contractions but that's easier said then done. I felt helpless against the pain. All I could think of was how much more of this I was in store for because all that pain had only lead me to being dilated one centimeter.


Only nine more to go...or so I thought. Our vitals would be normal and then all of sudden not. Normal. Not. After playing the "roll to your other side" game it became clear that there was a chance I wouldn't be delivering my daughter as planned. Because in what felt like a matter of only minutes it went from "you could end up having a cesarean" to "you're having a cesarean." Enter epidural. Contraction. I squeezed the nurses hand as she very nicely in a whisper told me that I couldn't move and sacrificed her hand to help me through two painful experiences happening simultaneously. I could only take one person in the operating room with me. Although my first choice my mother when she returned to the room after updating everyone waiting in the lobby she asked how I felt about my sister being with me instead. And that was that. She was right there with me as my Elle came into the world.



Meet the Brown's! This was mine & Elle's first picture together :)

I'm a MOM! XOXO

Acceptance...

Last night I went to dinner with a friend in what could best be described as a step towards reconciliation. Our time was filled with catching up, discussing Elle & briefly addressing how we were going to move forward with one another. When all was said and done I was left taking a hard and honest look at the person that I am.

As my pregnancy nears the end and with delivery in the horizon I've come to accept and embrace all the qualities that make me who I am. The: good. bad. ugly. crazy. emotional. sensitive (and insensitive). judgemental. competitive. perfectionist. I have issues when it comes to communication. Sometimes I think before I speak to a fault and don't end up saying what I mean how I mean to. I avoid confrontation at all costs and have learned that there really is no way to. Sometimes the only option left is to just argue it out. The old adage "Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me" couldn't be more flawed. Words hurt. More than I even realized they were capable of. Forgetting is just as hard as forgiving.

ac⋅cept⋅ance/[ak-sep-tuhns]:

1.The act or process of accepting.
2.The state of being accepted or acceptable.
3.Favorable reception; approval.
4.Belief in something; agreement.

fifteen days to go! XOXO

One Flaw in Women...

Women have strengths that amaze men...
They bear hardships and they carry burdens,
but they hold happiness, love and joy.
They smile when they want to scream.
They sing when they want to cry.
They cry when they are happy
and laugh when they are nervous.
They fight for what they believe in.
They stand up to injustice.
They don't take "no" for an answer
when they believe there is a better solution.
They go without so their family can have.
They go to the doctor with a frightened friend.
They love unconditionally.
They cry when their children excel
and cheer when their friends get awards.
They are happy when they hear about
a birth or a wedding.
Their hearts break when a friend dies.
They grieve at the loss of a family member,
yet they are strong when they
think there is no strength left.
They know that a hug and a kiss
can heal a broken heart.
Women come in all shapes, sizes and colors.
They'll drive, fly, walk, run or e-mail you
to show how much they care about you.
The heart of a woman is what
makes the world keep turning.
They bring joy, hope and love.
They have compassion and ideas.
They give moral support to their
family and friends.
Women have vital things to say
and everything to give.
HOWEVER, IF THERE IS ONE FLAW IN WOMEN...

IT IS THAT THEY FORGET THEIR WORTH.

I just read this and couldn't help but share it! XOXO

That's Just my Baby-Daddy

My morning started off well enough. Only mildy irritated by my mother. Took my usual exit off the highway to bypass traffic. Treated myself to Chick-fil-A & even decided to walk-in because the drive-thru line was ridiculous. Surprise...there was no one inside so in just a matter of minutes I had my chicken biscuit and was back on the road heading to the dr's office. I had cash on me today & got to park in the deck (FYI-last week no such luck. I had to park across the street where they take debit cards. Lesson. Learned.)

Soon enough I've grabbed a magazine (Working Mother. Never read it before. Pretty interesting. Think I'm gonna start a subscription.), my presence has been noted by the dr's assistant who is being quite chatty with me. This is out of the ordinary for her but after some small talk I'm left reading and listening to Steve & Vicki. When I'm finally called back for the customary weigh-in & urine sample the dr's assistant (whose name I should know but don't because she's not my fave) starts to ask me some "questions." I feel the quotation marks are necessary because it doesn't take long to realize that she's just being nosy. I guess it's naïve on my part to think that after nine months of showing up to these appointments alone, inquiring minds wouldn't be just a wee bit curious...right? BUT...it's none of her business! Last I checked she was there to weigh me, do whatever it is she does with my urine sample, & stand in the room with my dr. as he conducts the appointment. I didn't just mention be a nosy rosy, now did I?
Her first question seemed normal enough. She wanted to know who was going to be in the delivery room. I told her my mom, dad, sister (who I'm still not speaking with at the moment & could possibly not actually be there) & my best friend. Her response...your dad? Yes. Did I stutter? My father. Who I have asked to cut the umbilical cord. She follows up by asking me if the father knows. I'm standing there dumbfounded. Thinking to myself did she really just ask me that. Wait. I think she did. I said excuse me? Took a deep breath and remained composed because after all I haven't come this far to have just anybody deliver my daughter. I told her as a matter of fact he did and added (you didn't think that was it...did you? lol) that I strongly doubted I'm the first woman to walk into there office without "the father" & I strongly doubt I'm the last. As for the rest of the appointment, it went along as normal. I took a nap while I waited, got my blood pressure checked, heard Elle's heartbeat, cervix checked, and had the instructions of when I'm supposed to call reiterated. See you next Wednesday!

I've been playing this back to myself all morning and feeling judged...sucks. The life we are living and creating for ourselves is all about choices. Clearly the one's I made that resulted in getting pregnant are well rather obvious. If you've read any of my past posts then the choice DaddyWarBucks made is crystal clear as well, although not final in any respect for the time being it is what it is. I'm choosing to have a happy & healthy pregnancy since I want a happy & healthy Elle. And when I put my hurt feelings aside I'm not ashamed or disappointed in Vanessa (FYI-I'm a sucker for 3rd person...lol). I could very well be giving birth to the next Tyra Banks, you can thank me later :)

nineteen days to go! XOXO

He's Just Not That into You, but...

I just read this article: http://www.stumbleupon.com/s/#1IT0xw/www.momlogic.com/2009/11/i_think_he_likes_my_kid_more_than_me.php/

It wasn't a scenario I had run through my head prior to reading but I guess anything really is possible. It made me laugh! Remember that episode of Will & Grace, when Will is dating this guy he really isn't that into but is totally in love with the dog? So he ends up sticking around a lil' longer.

Like the old & over-used saying goes: He's Just Not That into You (but your kid is a totally different story....lol)

still at twenty-three days & counting. XOXO

Hormones. I mean Honey.

Someone said this to me recently and I found it both hilarious and honest. The truth of the matter is I couldn't be more hormonal if I tried....

Here's the thing I've decided that it's not my doing. These moments arise and bring out the hellion in me.

There was Wal-Mart. First, I pose a question: Is there proper etiquette for the self-check-out lines? I happen to believe there is. When all the stations are being used you form a "general admission line" (i.e. you stand sort of centered between the two sides. one behind another.) and when the check-out station becomes available you approach, check-out, pay and then it becomes someone else's turn. Simple enough...right? Hmmmm...not so much for this man I'm going to refer to as Baldy. Well, Baldy didn't see things the way I just presented them. His take on it was line up behind the person checking out and call your dibs from the very beginning. I was in line behind another gentleman who asked him what he was doing & explained what proper etiquette consists of. Baldy said that if he'd like he could just go ahead of him but that he wasn't going to do it that way. [Enter Vanessa from behind] Are you serious? You've got to be kidding me? Could you be more rude! After sizing me up and realizing that I was just some loud pregnant lady he scoffed & turned around. If I could have I would have kicked him, right at the knee from behind and enjoyed his slow & ultimately painful descent to the ground. No. Such. Luck.
Upon exiting and making the trek back to my car there was a car starting to reverse out of there parking spot. Clearly, they saw me because they stopped...for a moment that is and proceed to continue to pull out of there spot. I in turn stood there: hand on hip very matter of factly expressing to them my disgust for lack of the respect for pedistrians...i.e. me. In my mind I pictured myself doing the Karate Kid jump this time on the trunk & not the hood as in the movie. I'm not sure what I would have done after that. I didn't get that far in my montage...LOL! I definitely would have kicked some butt though.

Then there was my mother. She kept me waiting for an hour and fifteen minutes! I had a plan to get the furniture moved around and be in front of the t.v. watching kickoff at 7:00. That. Didn't. Happen. When I do finally hear from her she doesn't even address the fact that I've been waiting all this time for her. This is where I turn into a sobbing mess. And after using my fine tuned scare-tactics I'm left in my house alone struggling to just push my nightstand out of the way. Enter more tears. Just seconds later I SOS for help, talk to my mom, get the furniture moved & watch Georgia win. Kinda like a half-hour episode of Full House...huh?! LOL.

Moral of the Story: To know me is to love me :)

twenty-three days to go! XOXO