Wakeup Call

It’s sad that it takes a wakeup call to make a person want to change for the better, or live a different life style, or do something differently.  I guess one good thing that can come from a wakeup call is that it motivates us BUT as humans those wake up calls don’t last too long before we are back to the old normal lifestyle.

Lately, I feel like the world has had so many of these wakeup calls, the Colorado shooting for instance. It’s absolutely never a thought in any one’s mind that they may go to see a movie, and never ever come back home.  Did they tell their family they loved them before they left? Did they live life the way THEY wanted to live?

…

Martha. Shes been on my mind all week. She was my new neighbor; we met her about 5 months ago during our building process of our new homes. She was young, single, had no kids. Just a woman that we knew we were going to fully enjoy having around. Derek and I jokingly called her Martha Stuart. She had built her house to perfection and had an interior decorator come in. It was absolutely beautiful. She was a young 49 year old woman whom seemed to be in good shape.

Little did we know Martha was a woman living her second chance at life. Come to find out some time last year she found out she had adrenal cancer, and was completely caught by surprise that her life was about to be cut short. She was able to have surgery right away and was shocked when they told her they got it ALL. She received a second chance to live. This led her to do what she wanted to do. She was so adorable driving around in her little red VW bug and the way she would be-bop around the place checking out everyone’s new homes that were just built and showing off her new home with such excitement. None of us would have ever known that her cancer was back.

After she purchased her home she went back for her 6 month re-check and was totally covered with this horrific cancer. All in all her spirits were extremely high. Not once did she/or we think she would actually pass. The last time I saw her I was picking her off of the garage floor in which she had fallen. We were told she had up to a year. Little did anyone know that she wouldn’t even last close to 60 days.

My point of this blog it to share my wakeup call with everyone else. Everyone needs a little reminder that life is indeed short and that there is nothing guaranteed about it. Her passing (as in any passing) reminds me to keep those important friendships, important and that strong family strong. It reminds me to be a good/better person, love hard, keep good secrets, help those in need and most importantly, LOVE. LOVE ALL. No matter the race, gender, republican, democrat, gay or straight. No matter who did what to who and who was wrong and right. In the end doesn’t everyone just want the same thing? To love and be loved in return?

Delivery and motherhood

I know, I know…I am literally the worlds worst at keeping up with my blog. See, mommy hood struck me HARD. Once Britton arrived I suddenly forgot how to multitask. I couldn’t answer my phone or text anyone back, I didn’t have time to have visitors NOR did I have time to shower…I was a walking zombie who would forget to eat and couldn’t sleep (even if I wanted to). I was learning how to be a mom.  I am not going to lie this was the hardest job I’ve ever had in my entire life! Very much rewarding but very very VERY hard to figure out.  As you know thru my past blog writings, people liked to tell me exactly how my pregnancy was going to go. SO HOW COME NO ONE TELLS YOU HOW HARD THE FIRST MONTH IS GOING TO BE? I like to be warned people….maybe not when it came to my pregnancy but tips on preparing for that first month would be been nice. Ha….

Keep reading….if you don’t, that first paragraph is going to make you think I don’t like being a mom. The word LOVE is a total understatement for the way I feel about being a new mom. There literally is nothing in the world like it.

Let’s talk Delivery! I’ve seen beautiful pictures of my friends with their new sweet babies RIGHT after delivery and they look amazing. Almost like the baby walked itself right out of the womb with not a single sweat particle on them.  Well….Let’s just say I was wrong when I thought I would look like the same person that walked in the hospital, after delivery. WRONG. Way way wrong.

We were at the hospital and in labor by 2:00 in the afternoon December 30^th! Which was perfect because I was going to push him right out (easily) before midnight so he didn’t have to have his birthday on the New Years Eve holiday. My plans were just that, and Derek and I were going to share a sweet moment overlooking our new baby boy new years eve night in the hospital with some smuggled champagne, celebrating this new life along with the new year.  

Well, that’s not really how it happened. My family came for support which was super awesome of them even though I wasn’t allowing them to be in for actual delivery. Knowing they were there meant so much. Even when I was having contractions like crazy and didn’t look like I loved anyone at the time, I truly did. If I remember correctly I went from 4 cm to 7 cm in a matter of 5 minutes.  SO I went from an okay nervous Jessica to a NO ONE TALK TO ME Jessica, as I gripped the bars of the bed not knowing why they suddenly got worse.  

The nurse walks in and checks me…”oh my God, family out! Hurry, we will let you back in when we figure out what’s going on”. My face if it wasn’t already white, turned white. A team of nurses rushed in and I quickly got stabbed with a needle and some sort of medicine into my left shoulder. We find out that Brittons heart rate had nearly stopped. The medicine made me convulse, but sped his heart rate right back up. Poor Derek was standing back after being pushed aside wide eyed and feeling helpless I’m sure. This happened a number of times. The medicine they pumped into my system stopped ALL my labor each and every time to boost Brittons heart rate. These nurses had me rolling over in all directions trying to get his heart rate up. They even turned me upside down. Seriously...in the bed, nearly upside-down. Ask Derek, I’m sure it was a pretty site. All kinds of thoughts were running thru my head but I lay there speechless asking no questions just praying everything was going to be okay.  At one point I know I said “We’ve come too far to lose him”. That may sound dramatic to you but this was my delivery, so to me it was the most traumatic experience ever. The emergency team rushed in and threw out all the tools for an emergency C-Section. I was throwing up, had blown blood vessels in my eyes and crying. This wasn’t the delivery I thought I would have. To make it worse the nurses and Doctor were having spats right in front of me about what they should do. In the middle of pushing Brittons heart rate flat lined…Everyone stopped and stared at the machine and my Doctor said to the nurses “What, are you going to do, pump her with the medicine again??” He was being a smart ass because he was ready for me to have this baby not only because the hospital was so busy and he was needed but for Brittons safety. They said Britton couldn’t handle anymore and had to come out. When the heart rate didn’t show back up, the doctor first tried the vacuum.  Thank God we didn’t have to do a c-section and out came my sweet baby boy. Because of everything that had gone on I couldn’t hold him immediately. Derek and I sat there stunned at what we just went thru as Britton just stared at us while the doctors were checking him out. We were so overcome by his sweet face that we didn’t realize that he hadn’t cried. Finally, a wimper came out that brought tears to both of our eyes. It was the sweetest wimper I had ever heard. Until the doctor burst our bubble “This isn’t the cry we want”. Apparently they are supposed to cry pretty loud. They did several tests and after what seemed like hours we finally we got to hold him. All I could say after seeing him was “I could totally do this again”. Everything we went thru was so worth all the pain and trouble. The instant connection you get is such an amazing feeling.

 As the nurse took us to our room it was 5 in the morning (EXHAUSTED was the word for the next three days in the hospital). She told us how hard the day was and that there were 74 babies born.They were short staffed and EVERY delivery on my hallway was an emergency c-section. She said the nurses were determined that mine not be. Her exact words “I’m not going to lie to you, we were all so scared for your baby”. Those words nearly made me cry. The thought of leaving the hospital with no baby was a thought that never crossed my mind. It truly made me grateful and made me appreciate the experience so much more.

I’m convinced that nothing in my life comes easy BUT that it’s all worth it. Britton is now a healthy 3 ½ month old. He has the most adorable face (but I’m a little partial). I’ve finally learned to multi task and I now know how to get out of the house WITH my baby. Haha I’m just now finding time to get back in shape and I’m able to travel with him to go see family and friends. BUT the thing I’m most pleased with is my ability to dodge the pee stream.  SCORE! 

That first month may have been so hard but I learned so much and being a mom now feels like second nature. Those four o’clock in the morning feedings are so much easier on me, especially when he smiles at me behind the bottle letting milk spill. He is such a loving baby, constantly smiling and rarely crying. His smile and his patience make me want to give him the world.

SO I may not have had the most easy delivery…and I definitely didn’t come out of the hospital looking like I did when I came in and I most definitely didn’t get that smuggled champagne I so desired for new years eve…BUT I came out of the hospital with a husband that I now looked at differently. I had a whole new love for him. Seeing him love Britton and hold him the way that he did, and all the help that he was made me want to be a better person.  We came out of that hospital with a new meaning of what is like to be a protector and to be selfless …and most importantly we came out of that hospital a family of three.