Just A Few Weeks Ago: A Birth

Our birth experience was everything I wanted it to be, and so far the first few weeks of parenthood haven't been any more challenging for us than for anyone else (but it can be very challenging). I like to think, relatively speaking, it's been pretty easy. It's a huge adjustment and all of us- from baby to puppy- have had our moments, but this has not been difficult in the way that I understand difficult to be.

We scheduled the surgery for Monday, January 27th. I've been asked a few times why I elected to have a Cesarean, so here it is: Even in my 38th and 39th weeks, I did not show one stitch of labor. Not one Braxton Hicks, not one millimeter of dilation. I had seen several women (most first timers, as well) go into induction for vaginal delivery under the same circumstances, and my slightly-educated guess was that anyone doing that stood a 50/50 chance of ending up in surgery anyway and usually after a long, hard, difficult labor full of interventions, from Cervidil to hours of Petocin. As far as I'm concerned, there is nothing natural about that nor did it seem like something I wanted to do. Yes, a vaginal delivery even with every intervention is more natural than surgery, but all those drugs aren't nice to anyone. Had I gone into labor, I would have welcomed it, but I did not. So anyway, each woman should be able to choose the birth she wants and have it supported. I think every birth is beautiful, and no birth is worth more than another. I do not debate methods of safely bringing a fragile infant into the world, and neither should anyone. So there is that. On with it!

And you know what? Everyone involved, including my doctor, are damn happy I agreed to surgery on my due date because she wasn't coming into the world any other way! Of course she'd need her own special tunnel out. After walking back to the OR and having the epidural administered, my doctor and his support staff quickly got to work. It was uncomfortable, but I was feeling good with the epidural and oxygen (oxygen is amazing, by the way, and I could become a junkie on it). I shook a little bit, but felt very present. Working, kneading, smiling at Aaron, hearing him telling me to just look at him, and then bam! A jolt. My doctor pushed on my chest to pull our little girl out. He said he cut my uterus, nicked the sac, and saw big, fat cheeks. He realized we had a bigger girl on our hands than we initially thought. And out she came, kicking and screaming with all the vigor and anger of someone ripped from their comfortable home! Red, swollen, unraveling her limbs our Alexandra Jayne was 7 pounds and 12 ounces. No one is quite sure how she fit inside of me, but it certainly explains why I never felt a hand or foot poke me, but only knees and elbows: kid was folded in me. She was checked over and given to Aaron. He introduced her to me, and when I said hello her eyes shot open. Whether it's true or not, I like to think she knew who I was right away. It was just the moment I needed. Overall, it was a very strange trip. You drive to the hospital and a few hours later you become a parent! Little AJ had some irregular breathing so she was wisked away. I really wanted to be present and participate in her firth bath, but I let them do it in the nursery since it was told to me that it could regulate her and I could have my baby sooner. Done deal. We'll live without a full day of vernix. Aaron came back with her about twenty minutes later, and I got to hold my daughter for the first time. There's a funny picture of me with my hand on hand, in a total "what now" moment.

I stayed in the hospital four nights, and am very thankful I did. C-sections aren't an easy way out by any means; in fact, it's major surgery. I had an organ cut open and my skin. My intestines were removed and put back. Things tugged and pulled on that had been in one place for 31 years. I watched a video on BabyCenter to see what I was getting into and I'm glad I did, as it helped me respect what had just been done to me. I was in some pretty serious pain for the first two days, but did begin attempts at breastfeeding while there. Once my pain was managed, I felt much better. I even showered once! Aaron stayed with me the whole time and took some nighttime feedings and did all the diaper changes. He is a champ with swaddling, as well. I'm a very lucky lady to have him!

Since being home, I have felt a little better every day. The first 10 days post-op were the roughest, but after that I was able to stop the pain meds and manage a few outings. I pump a lot, and AJ latches fine but we're still having some issues. I'm giving it 6 weeks before I re-evaluate what we're doing. Aaron washes all the pump supplies and bottles, and I do the laundry. She sleeps in a moses basket in bed with us when she isn't in the nursery or baby swing. She's quite a heavy sleeper, so much so she won't wake with early hunger. I have to wake her, and it's difficult to tell what's good when I'm breastfeeding during the day. If we bottle feed at night, it's pretty regular. I was super stressed for a few days about scheduling and normalcy and OMG WHAT AM I GOING TO DO. Then I realized I was being ridiculous and decided that we're not even going to try to schedule anything until at least 8 weeks, although I've been told the real magic number is about 15 pounds, as far as getting the kid to do stuff and all that jazz. So for now, we're enjoying every newborn moment available to us. We've gotten through the first weeks with his parents and other help, and my mom's on her way now. I think we just might make it.

 Daddy gets his first cuddle.

 Last moments before we became parents.

Our introduction. 

It's been amazing so far. I couldn't be luckier.

 

Transfiguration.

By the time most of you read this, we will hopefully have already begun celebrating my daughter's birthday. Tomorrow, I'm the one being cut open instead of Aaron, but just as his scars altered our path forever, so will this one.

I can tell myself everything will be fine but I also know that I'm not entitled to anything good in this world. I am not "owed" because I've already paid a lot to be here. It is what it is. But statistically, one can only win the lottery (good or bad) so much. Right? I was raised a Christian and I still talk to God, but I talk to all the people in my life who aren't here, too. If our souls do go somewhere after we die, maybe they can all do a little dance for me and help ferry Alexandra Jayne into this world without too much drama.

I have no deep thoughts on becoming a mother just yet because I chose this and I've had about 7 months to let it settle. This is happening and I'm as ready as I can be. I hope to raise a human who is good for this world. I want her to want to be like her parents. I want her to know that before she came along, her parents lived a lifetime of love, baptized by fire. And as she grows, she'll know that we still love each other. I want her to see the kind of life I want her to have, I guess. But most of all, I want a healthy child I get to keep and raise. She doesn't ever have to save the world; she's already made mine and Aaron's so much better. Just by being the one to grow from our love she has already given us so much. She is truly a miracle. She was not supposed to happen, and yet here we are on the eve of her arrival.

I am so excited to finally meet my daughter, but just as much (or maybe a little more), I am thrilled for my husband. He is going to make such a good father. I try to tell him but I believe I fail: He is what makes this worthwhile. He is the reason I can do this. I am the lucky one here. I believe it was more his path to become a parent than mine and I am just fortunate enough to be with him. Really. He's so excited. He's asked me what I want him to wear. He wants to stay each night in the hospital with us. He's staying up late to cook me a midnight breakfast. I went out and bought him this ridiculous gadget as a surprise. He likes gadgets; he's researched everything baby. I love to see him smile. After our midnight meal, we'll pretend to sleep.

I don't have too much else to say. I am treasuring her movements from within because we're on borrowed time for it (although, she's doing a good job of actually hurting me so I am not too sentimental about the end of pregnancy). I made a birth decision and Aaron's on board, as is my awesome doctor. I'm nervous, but calm. Should everything go as planned, I'll be holding her by the time everyone else is eating lunch. Send a good though up for us, and I'll be back soon.

39 Weeks & A New Year.

It's been a hot minute… or twelve since I dropped in and spewed my thoughts. I think about it; I want to do it; I make plans to do it; but man, does every excuse and life just not get in the way of the tiny things that will only take a few minutes? Every time. So what's it been like over here lately?

Well, we moved. In my third trimester. Over the holidays. I won't go into it because I've become a champion whiner lately, but I am not kidding in the least when I say it has been about the second most traumatizing event I've lived through. Pregnancy, disability, moving- it's a perfect storm for a few daily meltdowns. We would not have gotten through it without the amazing help of family and friends, and immense patience on both our parts. It was rough on everyone, and I'm glad it's over. I will never move while pregnant again, though.

I do love our new place (which is just another apartment in our old place). I had to give up some kitchen storage space and my own huge bathroom for a regular sized one, but the trade-off is my own room- a loft! My office. A place for me and my things. Part of the last few years has been making do, and often I felt I got what was left over after all the shared things and prosthetic things and a gun locker and well… you get the picture. Aaron ended up in the master bath because his modest shower bench didn't fit in the guest, but I'm okay with that. I have my desk back, and it's far away from a gun locker. My clothes might be spread out over two closets and a dresser upstairs, but it's worth it.

We painted the baby's room! And our furniture came after a ton of drama (but we got free delivery, free toddler rails, and apologies from two different stores, so all good). We are going to finish it tomorrow and then I'll post pictures. I re-framed art from my own little girl room, and found some cheap pieces on Ebay. I am in love with our little girl's room.

I haven't intentionally not written during the pregnancy, but I just haven't have too much to say about it. I think I've been luckier than most, but you wouldn't know it by the complaining I can do. When I am in pain, and in particular experiencing back pain, it's pretty awful. When I can't sleep, I cry sometimes. As I deal with pain that creeps into my days instead of just the nights, I become harder to handle for Aaron. It's getting rough on everyone, but I still believe that I've had a good pregnancy. I was really good until about 32 weeks. But I think it's supposed to be this way, you know? So we get excited about becoming parents. I could have stayed pregnant a year if it were like the second trimester. And I know I look pretty good for someone who has gained 25 pounds! However, that's more than a fourth of my pre-pregnancy body weight- all in one place. So yeah, we know why I have horrible back pain. And no one warned me about "lightening crotch" aka "knives in the lady parts." Baby can hit nerves on or near the cervix and it is awful. I could drive off the road from the sudden pain. Pregnancy, even the easiest most soul-filling ones that connect you with Mother Earth and God, is not for sissies.

Aaron retired! Yep, he's done. Our family is done! Blue ID card and everything. I got a new one, too. He's grown a beard and let his hair get out of control for a few weeks. We have a plan for the future, but it also involves a lot of "I dunno." Which is fine with us- school until a better answer arrives! He is getting a better idea of what a dream career will be, so that could happen, too. I want to go back to butt-in-seat classes this fall but we'll see how this family thing goes. It might take someone at home to make all this tick, and I'm the best candidate at the moment. I will at least take a few online courses. I'm even looking into some writing programs. Something about gestating this kid has helped clear up my mind on what I do and don't want to do. And probably just getting older, too. Thank God for the clarity of the 30s. It's like the 20s, but less drunk.

But I did not have any deep retirement epiphanies. I've had a few about our government, in light of the news that some of Aaron's benefits are being cut before he can even get them. And here's what it boils down to for me: I will never regret his service, but I can quickly be ashamed of the country he served for not holding itself accountable to its promises. The cut to Combat Related Special Compensation is particularly nasty. It's hard to explain, but CRSC is supposed to help fill the income gap in retirement and disability pay that comes with being medically discharged from combat injuries before a full career is had. While these severely injured members get full medical and retirement, there's only so much they can get disability based on length of service. So CRSC was created to fill that gap. Now it's being cut, so it's a direct assault on those most injured in combat specifically. But hey, we're just budget leeches. We live off the government tit and I guess it's time we paid up. Which is why we're going to save as much as we can, go to school to improve ourselves, and get jobs so we don't have to trust the government to live up its side of the bargain. Don't even get me started on the retiree COLA cuts and who ends up paying the most in that (the ones forced to retire early, like Aaron). It's all just a big, fat "ugh" and I'm over the debate. We're all going to get screwed eventually, and so I might as well try to let go of the anger now.

Speaking of debate, I also haven't felt inclined to blog during the pregnancy because I just don't want to invite anyone to tell me their opinion. If I want it, I'll ask for it. I have enough mom friends who have all done things differently for me to get some very different perspectives on this whole ordeal. I experienced backlash early in my pregnancy for a few choices so I learned to keep my mouth shut. I talk to people I trust and who aren't judgmental. Each woman's experience is different and hence, our decisions will be different. That's the end of it, right?

I look forward to a 2014 with more writing. I want a bright, wide future. I get to have my husband at home as we embark on parenthood, which is by far the luckiest part of this whole new life. I love our apartment. Danica the spoiled puppy is doing great, and I think she'll do okay with the baby (eventually). And I really couldn't ask for more; maybe just more of the same! Hope you're all having great starts to the new year. Until next time-

Two Veterans.

Aaron wanted to take his brand-new legs out for a spin the first day he had them, so he decided to say hello to a few friends. Here's one precious moment from that day.

I'm not busy, just scattered.

Somehow I am 25 weeks pregnant but before we go any further: Aaron retires out in <30 days, has extensive throat and nose surgery before that, we go home for two weeks, return to move a week later, and then should everything keep going well, we'll welcome little AJ in late January.

Overwhelmed much? Who knew leaving the military could be even more hectic than being in it. He also did not receive a mid-month paycheck, because DFAS was the only entity not to process his extension paperwork... back in August. Of course, nothing was figured out until the paycheck before last came up a bit short. Of course we were promised it would be fixed. And of course it wasn't, leaving us hanging until the 15th when the money didn't roll in. He should receive this all back paid on November 1, but we'll see. It's incredibly stressful because he should not retire without receiving all of his active duty pay. That seems to be what we would call a very bad idea. Then we'll go about 4-12 months without consistent income. Some will roll in here, some later, some sooner than later. He has all his out-process paperwork so as long as he's paid up, November 16 will be the day the bell rings on his active duty career. So long, and thanks for all the fish.

There are absolutely a ton of feelings going on with this retirement, but the one which comes to mind is how I'll feel now that he won't correct people when they ask if he's a retired veteran. "No, I am still active duty." I won't boast that he says it proudly and puffed up, but he is clear. He liked pointing out that you could still serve, even while injured. And he could have continued on in some capacity if he had chosen to do so, but that was not in the best interest of our family. He hardly brought it up. In fact, he just seems to accept it. He's the happiest dude I know, so I'm not surprised. He just wants me to allow him to 6 months without a haircut.

For me, however, I bounce between indifferent and happy that the military will be behind us. We still have loads of uncertainty ahead of us, so that's nothing new. But at least it's our uncertainty; we're waiting on ourselves and not anyone else to tell us what to do. I wish it was as easy and simple as, "Move home, build a house, raise family, go to school, get jobs." But we want to stay here. We want him to have access to one of the best hospitals in the world, and maybe the best place in the world for amputees. The VA in DC isn't too bad, either. At any point he can switch to Standard and still receive the care he would need from Walter Reed (mainly amputee) and the VA, but then choose from dozens of top-notch civilian providers as well. Staying here will give us both the most opportunity. We miss family and know it would be easiest to just "go home," but home is wherever we are. And we've been here longer than we've been anywhere else, anyway.

Pregnancy is physically incredibly easy for me. I can control a lot with diet and exercise (or pay the price for not being mindful). My back hurts a little and I have dealt with insomnia, but I've never been sick and I think I look great. I'm me, with just a bit extra. I've gained maybe close to 20 pounds, I guess. I don't have a scale in the house so I only know when I go in or visit other people who own scales. You can cyber punch me all you want for this next sentence: I finally broke 100 pounds for the first time in my life. I don't mind the changes to my body, but I definitely don't feel sexy, ever. I think I can look "nice" and "cute" but sexy? Nope. Not feeling it. I'm sure it'll come back at some point. Maternity clothes definitely make me feel better about myself, even though I didn't like shopping for them. And nothing a new pair of Michael Kors black boots with gold zipper and buckle couldn't fix. Even Selena Gomez liked them (she said as much when she visited the hospital). Of course, had I known we weren't getting paid, I would probably be boot-less. C'est la vie.

Emotionally, I can be kind of wreck but I think I'm okay. Mostly. I get really upset when I feel like there's no hope for certain things to get better. Some people really take pleasure in telling me how tired I'm going to be, how hard it'll be, how I have no idea what I'm in, et. al. It's actually pretty damn rude if you ask me. And further, not one person who has gone through this journey then entering parenthood has told me anything like that. No one who has faced real adversary prior to caring for a newborn has upset me. I know I should just nod and smile, but sometimes it does get to me. If you don't know their journey, don't comment on it, k? I feel completely capable in regards to handling an infant and my current life. I'm not saying I'll be rocking more classes or not eat a lot of microwaved food for awhile, but I'm not scared. I don't think it's going to be the hardest thing I ever do. The most important? Yeah, that I do agree with. It isn't The Most Important Job In The World, but for my existence raising my kid to be a healthy, functioning, contributing adult is probably the most important responsibility of my life. And if I can save a life, I'm sure I can raise one. At least I have Aaron here with me. The pleasure and privilege of that is not lost on me.

Life is stressful, but good. I am having way too many baby showers because so many people feel so much joy from little AJ's pending full-fledged existence. She's viable now, so I am currently baking a preemie in there instead of a fetus. I feel her all the time and can do certain things to get her to move. I really thought I'd have to meet her first to be so in love, but I've surprised myself. I want her. I need her. And I can't wait to meet her and tell her that I belong to her more than she'll ever belong to me.

We haven't bought anything because of the move, but I can't wait to build her room! Well, we ordered her furniture. Her very expensive, very heavy beech 3-piece suite. The chest and dresser are Bombay style, and in this princess pearl white I just love. Aaron and I took one look and knew it was for us. Nothing else compared. At least the crib converts up to a full-sized bed, so she'll get to keep this forever. If I let her take it with her when she moves out, that is. I really love this furniture.

Here's some of it. 

So everything is okay. I do have quite a list of big life changes in front me for the next 120 days or so, and while I might not rock it all- it all will get done. We'll be juuuuuuust fine. And eventually, we'll be awesome! Aaron has been awesome at walking a ton lately, and really kicking recovery's ass. So I really can't ask for more, can I?