Ella'Lin's birthday was predicted to be January 16, 2011. That day came... and then passed... with disappointment. My doctor's appointment for that week was scheduled for Friday, January 21st. That day, I picked up Israel and we headed to the doctor. Israel was not in a good place with his job. He was frequently frustrated with it and hated going to work. Needless to say, he was not in a very good mood when I picked him up and we bickered the whole time we were together. So, somewhat to my disappointment, when the doctor said that my blood pressure was high and we should head to Labor and Delivery, I was less than excited. Instead, I was thinking that my baby was going to come into this world on someone else's terms, with mommy and daddy at odds with each other, and not surrounded by the love she was created by. I was an emotional wreck. Israel was being less than pleasant towards me, was exhausted, and ultimately slept through the whole fiasco at labor and delivery while they monitored my heart rate for a few hours. When we were given the all-clear to go home and "take it easy" he went back to work. They scheduled me for an induction on Tuesday, January 25, 2011.
I was determined to help Ella'Lin along and let her choose her time to come.
It was Saturday night, January 22, 2011, and the next day I was going to be exactly 1-week late. I was getting desperate to finally give birth. From the beginning of the day, I had a plan and I was going to implement it.
It was my one-year anniversary with Israel. He had to work that day, but the anniversary was the perfect set up for some much needed oxytocin! I called my sister that morning and told her I was going to go get a pedicure and invited her along for the ride. We joked with the ladies at the salon that if they put me into labor, we'd come back and tip them really well... After the salon, we headed to pick up some chocolate covered strawberries and shared in that indulgence. I went home and rested for a few minutes before Israel called me to come pick him up from work. I picked him up and he came out dressed in a shirt and tie, ready for our "date." I wasn't dressed up at all-- not knowing we would be heading straight out, or knowing what we were doing anyway. We laughed a lot and were getting along perfectly for the evening. We decided we would grab some dinner and go to a movie-- I chose a chick-flick romantic comedy (oxytocin!!) and he had to agree with it when I gave him my reasoning. I told him from the get-go when he asked me what I wanted to do, "I want to have a baby tonight." He never questioned any of my methods for that: romantic dinner, romantic comedy, romantic evening (hint, hint).
At dinner, he ran next door while we were waiting for our food at Cafe Shambala and bought some chocolate covered berries and other chocolate goodies from Hatch Family Chocolates. Dinner was served and it was WAY more food than we could have possibly eaten. Near the end of dinner, I felt like my mucus plug had been expelled, or something similar, and excused myself to the bathroom with some sort of urgency. I wasn't thinking too much about it, because over the past several days I had experienced more discharge than usual, but hadn't thought too much about it. This time, the lining of my underwear was quite wet and I thought it was a little strange. I thought to myself, "Did my water break?" Either way, I cleaned up, and returned to the restaurant where Israel had packed up our leftovers and was ready to leave. In the car on the way to the theater I told him that I wasn't sure, but I thought maybe my water broke. The look on his face was priceless. It lit up like a kid on Christmas. "Really!?" I played it down because I didn't want to get him all excited. He asked me to explain and why I thought it had, and I ultimately decided that it probably wasn't that.
As we were pulling into the theater parking garage, Israel's mom called with her usual check up to see if she had a new grandbaby yet. We talked to her on speaker phone for several minutes about how we were celebrating our anniversary and that the plan was we were going to have a baby tonight... but if it didn't work, she'd have one by Tuesday (because of the scheduled induction). She laughed about it, wished us luck, and told us to keep her informed.
The movie was a funny one. We spent the movie cracking jokes (too loudly), laughing, and ultimately having a great time. Throughout the movie, I was having contractions, but not too regularly. At the end of the movie, the older couple in front of us turned around and said, "You two are hilarious!! Loud, but hilarious!" (Ha ha!!) As a 9-month pregnant woman, of course, before hitting the road I needed to visit the restroom. As I was squatting over the toilet, I tightened my muscles and realized that I was still dripping-- and it wasn't urine. Now I was a little bit more certain that my water had released-- but still not positive. I told Israel as we walked out to the car.
In the car, we had a discussion about my water breaking, and my contractions, and I estimated that they were less than 10 minutes apart at this point. We decided that maybe we should call the hospital and see what they told us to do-- if maybe they could give me insight about whether or not my water had broken. I called and they told us that we could come in and they could test to see if my water had broken. I told Israel to just drive home for now and we would see how I felt after a little while. (My biggest concern, strangely enough, was how we were going to "finish the night" not knowing if my water had broken-- after your water breaks, no sex allowed!) ;)
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Insanity Challenge
I've decided that I am ready for a total transformation.... so I am going to do the Insanity Challenge workout.
I saw the infomercial when Ella'Lin was probably just days old while feeding her at 3 a.m. I enjoyed it (not only because of the great shirtless eye-candy) and decided that I should do it to lose my baby weight... of course, that suggestion was met with opposition because I was only barely a week postpartum and needed to take it easy.
But now, so much has changed.
Ella'Lin is over 2 months old.
Israel is gone.
I moved out of my apartment.
I need to complete a change that I can take complete control of-- so I'm doing it. I should get my videos in the next week and then, IT IS ON.
(I hope my body can keep up.)
I saw the infomercial when Ella'Lin was probably just days old while feeding her at 3 a.m. I enjoyed it (not only because of the great shirtless eye-candy) and decided that I should do it to lose my baby weight... of course, that suggestion was met with opposition because I was only barely a week postpartum and needed to take it easy.
But now, so much has changed.
Ella'Lin is over 2 months old.
Israel is gone.
I moved out of my apartment.
I need to complete a change that I can take complete control of-- so I'm doing it. I should get my videos in the next week and then, IT IS ON.
(I hope my body can keep up.)
Saturday, April 2, 2011
"Baby Mama Drama"
It only gets harder to get over what feels like complete abandonment by Israel. I have gone over it time and time again in my head and I can't figure out exactly why I feel the way I feel. My psychoanalysis is inconclusive.
I feel like I have been lied to for the past 9 months. But I know I haven't. Looking back on it, the only "lie" there is the "We're in this together," lie. It's hard to believe he really meant that when he set out across the country when she was only 3 weeks old. I wasn't and am not feeling much "togetherness."
Even through his detachment and distance, I have felt a need to keep him involved. The first week or two he was gone, I sent pictures, videos, updates of her development and doctor visits. He never once asked for them. On one or two occasions, he thanked me for them. It was like I was trying to be mommy and daddy for her by maintaining his relationship with her FOR him. Eventually, that got to be a drain of energy, mostly emotionally. The more I did or sent, the less it seemed like he cared. I was taking it personal. I decided to protest and stop sending anything until he asked. After a couple weeks, he finally asked. I sent an indepth email with a TON of pictures within an hour or so of his text. Then, virtual silence again.
Then I started wondering if the reason I cared so much had to do with the dreaded "baby mama drama" I always vowed to stay clear of. I didn't want to be the source of it. But the more I tried not to be, the more dramatic the situation became. Taking a step back, some of the communications I had with him definitely could be construed as dramatic. But what could I say? I was a single mom, desperately trying to free myself from the stereotype. And it only deepened the drama. Let's face it, Krista: motherhood is dramatic -- with or without a daddy. I finally had to say, "F- what anyone else thinks."
Ultimately, I figure his friends and family know his personality. They know that he is not the easiest person to live with. Maybe they even disagree with his decision to leave us and go to Florida. I can't please everyone, so I damn well better start by pleasing myself and my baby. It's just the two of us now... and even though it gets lonely and I frequently find my mind wandering to how life would be different if he had been able to be the man we needed him to be, I couldn't be happier with my baby girl.
It is true-- there is no getting over a breakup. Only getting through it. And I'm working hard at it.
I always kept my heart hidden away and so deeply protected inside me... but now, she lives and breathes outside of my body. It's an even bigger struggle to guard her-- perhaps another reason for the "drama" ?
I feel like I have been lied to for the past 9 months. But I know I haven't. Looking back on it, the only "lie" there is the "We're in this together," lie. It's hard to believe he really meant that when he set out across the country when she was only 3 weeks old. I wasn't and am not feeling much "togetherness."
Even through his detachment and distance, I have felt a need to keep him involved. The first week or two he was gone, I sent pictures, videos, updates of her development and doctor visits. He never once asked for them. On one or two occasions, he thanked me for them. It was like I was trying to be mommy and daddy for her by maintaining his relationship with her FOR him. Eventually, that got to be a drain of energy, mostly emotionally. The more I did or sent, the less it seemed like he cared. I was taking it personal. I decided to protest and stop sending anything until he asked. After a couple weeks, he finally asked. I sent an indepth email with a TON of pictures within an hour or so of his text. Then, virtual silence again.
Then I started wondering if the reason I cared so much had to do with the dreaded "baby mama drama" I always vowed to stay clear of. I didn't want to be the source of it. But the more I tried not to be, the more dramatic the situation became. Taking a step back, some of the communications I had with him definitely could be construed as dramatic. But what could I say? I was a single mom, desperately trying to free myself from the stereotype. And it only deepened the drama. Let's face it, Krista: motherhood is dramatic -- with or without a daddy. I finally had to say, "F- what anyone else thinks."
Ultimately, I figure his friends and family know his personality. They know that he is not the easiest person to live with. Maybe they even disagree with his decision to leave us and go to Florida. I can't please everyone, so I damn well better start by pleasing myself and my baby. It's just the two of us now... and even though it gets lonely and I frequently find my mind wandering to how life would be different if he had been able to be the man we needed him to be, I couldn't be happier with my baby girl.
It is true-- there is no getting over a breakup. Only getting through it. And I'm working hard at it.
I always kept my heart hidden away and so deeply protected inside me... but now, she lives and breathes outside of my body. It's an even bigger struggle to guard her-- perhaps another reason for the "drama" ?
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Welcome, Ella'Lin Nicole!
The day finally arrived!!
My beautiful little girl made her grand entrance into this world on Sunday, January 23, 2011 at 8:41 p.m.
She weighed 7 pounds, 11 ounces and measured in at 19 1/2 inches long.
It was a long, hard labor, but both mommy and baby were troopers throughout. That story will follow. :)
My beautiful little girl made her grand entrance into this world on Sunday, January 23, 2011 at 8:41 p.m.
She weighed 7 pounds, 11 ounces and measured in at 19 1/2 inches long.
It was a long, hard labor, but both mommy and baby were troopers throughout. That story will follow. :)
Ella'Lin Nicole West
(3 days old)
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
41 weeks, 2 days.
This waiting game is excruciating!
I've been lucky through this entire pregnancy to have things move smoothly. I've felt fabulous for the most part and enjoyed the experience of having a little being growing inside of me. But now, as I'm down to the final days of pregnancy, it all comes to a halting screech of discomfort.
It starts at about 38 weeks... and you start thinking, "Any day now..." At that point, it's exciting. The buildup of anticipation, thinking that at any moment you could be bringing a new life into the world. But then, 39 weeks shows up and you start praying for "any day now." Sleeping becomes difficult-- like sleeping with a giant egg strapped to your chest that you have to delicately protect.
Then, 40 weeks. The anticipation build up starts brewing into frustration. The phone calls start to come in from various sources, each asking the same thing, "Baby?" Then, with each day after 40 weeks, they start almost joking about it, "When you going to have that baby?" or "She's stubborn, just like her parents." And I smile about it and halfway laugh with them. But inside, you just want to scream! The discomfort gets to be more and more unbearable... and each time you are asked when you're going to have "that baby" you feel a pressure weighing down on your shoulders even more. Like somehow I'm letting everyone down by not having the baby yet. I know, it's ridiculous. And I know it's not the truth or even based in reality, but... maybe that's just one of the thoughts the frustration brews.
Today, I am 40 weeks, 2 days. Only 2 days late. Only. The part that is the most discouraging, however, is that I went back to the doctor today for my weekly appointment. Last week, the doctor was all sorts of encouraging about having the baby. This week was a different sort of feeling I got off of him. Just like the past 2 weeks, I was only a little over 1 cm dilated and 70% effaced. He seemed a little discouraged that I hadn't made any significant progress over the past 2 weeks. (I can relate.)
So the new game plan is that I am going back to the doctor on Friday to check things out AGAIN. He said that come Sunday or Monday, I'm done carrying this baby-- that makes 41 weeks. He said that the problem with going longer than that is that the baby starts getting really big and the water around the baby is compromised. So on Friday he's going to check my water levels and make sure that I'm healthy enough and the baby is healthy enough to carry the baby longer without getting induced. (I'm really hoping to let her come on her own, even though I'm getting anxious as all hell!)
Basically the doctor sounded like he was very wary of whether this baby was going to come on her own.
I cried on my way home from the doctor.
(I won't miss these hormones.)
I've been lucky through this entire pregnancy to have things move smoothly. I've felt fabulous for the most part and enjoyed the experience of having a little being growing inside of me. But now, as I'm down to the final days of pregnancy, it all comes to a halting screech of discomfort.
It starts at about 38 weeks... and you start thinking, "Any day now..." At that point, it's exciting. The buildup of anticipation, thinking that at any moment you could be bringing a new life into the world. But then, 39 weeks shows up and you start praying for "any day now." Sleeping becomes difficult-- like sleeping with a giant egg strapped to your chest that you have to delicately protect.
Then, 40 weeks. The anticipation build up starts brewing into frustration. The phone calls start to come in from various sources, each asking the same thing, "Baby?" Then, with each day after 40 weeks, they start almost joking about it, "When you going to have that baby?" or "She's stubborn, just like her parents." And I smile about it and halfway laugh with them. But inside, you just want to scream! The discomfort gets to be more and more unbearable... and each time you are asked when you're going to have "that baby" you feel a pressure weighing down on your shoulders even more. Like somehow I'm letting everyone down by not having the baby yet. I know, it's ridiculous. And I know it's not the truth or even based in reality, but... maybe that's just one of the thoughts the frustration brews.
Today, I am 40 weeks, 2 days. Only 2 days late. Only. The part that is the most discouraging, however, is that I went back to the doctor today for my weekly appointment. Last week, the doctor was all sorts of encouraging about having the baby. This week was a different sort of feeling I got off of him. Just like the past 2 weeks, I was only a little over 1 cm dilated and 70% effaced. He seemed a little discouraged that I hadn't made any significant progress over the past 2 weeks. (I can relate.)
So the new game plan is that I am going back to the doctor on Friday to check things out AGAIN. He said that come Sunday or Monday, I'm done carrying this baby-- that makes 41 weeks. He said that the problem with going longer than that is that the baby starts getting really big and the water around the baby is compromised. So on Friday he's going to check my water levels and make sure that I'm healthy enough and the baby is healthy enough to carry the baby longer without getting induced. (I'm really hoping to let her come on her own, even though I'm getting anxious as all hell!)
Basically the doctor sounded like he was very wary of whether this baby was going to come on her own.
I cried on my way home from the doctor.
(I won't miss these hormones.)
Friday, December 10, 2010
Still alive... still pregnant.
It's definitely been a long time since I've updated. And it's really unfortunate because I could have definitely used the escape of writing over the past several months. Perhaps it would have kept me a little more sane than I've felt.
It's hard to believe that I'm already 35 weeks pregnant. The time has flown by and though I would love to say that it's been an amazing time, it would only partially be true. The pregnancy itself has been an easy one and even enjoyable. I've gained weight slowly, been in great health (MS-wise) and basically just felt great physically! Up until these past couple of weeks, I have moved with ease despite my extra 25 pounds. I played volleyball up until last month. I've felt fabulous.
I can't say as much for the emotional rollercoaster this whole event has been. I have to think that it must be an easier ride for people who are married or otherwise more prepared to have children with their partner. It's no secret that Israel and I kind of rushed into things, even if unintentionally. I think not having established our own relationship with each other and gotten to know each other on a deeper level has been incredibly detrimental to our relationship with the added hormones.
But as a general update: the current status of things is that the pregnancy is moving along great and at least for the time-being, Israel and I are working on our relationship and planning on raising our baby together.
I go back to the doctor next week and so far everything is looking good. I'll visit the doctor every week from here on out until delivery. I'm measuring exactly where I need to be and feeling a very active baby inside of me. It's almost a comforting feeling having someone with you all the time. I think I'm going to miss that after giving birth.
More update on specifics later.
It's hard to believe that I'm already 35 weeks pregnant. The time has flown by and though I would love to say that it's been an amazing time, it would only partially be true. The pregnancy itself has been an easy one and even enjoyable. I've gained weight slowly, been in great health (MS-wise) and basically just felt great physically! Up until these past couple of weeks, I have moved with ease despite my extra 25 pounds. I played volleyball up until last month. I've felt fabulous.
I can't say as much for the emotional rollercoaster this whole event has been. I have to think that it must be an easier ride for people who are married or otherwise more prepared to have children with their partner. It's no secret that Israel and I kind of rushed into things, even if unintentionally. I think not having established our own relationship with each other and gotten to know each other on a deeper level has been incredibly detrimental to our relationship with the added hormones.
But as a general update: the current status of things is that the pregnancy is moving along great and at least for the time-being, Israel and I are working on our relationship and planning on raising our baby together.
I go back to the doctor next week and so far everything is looking good. I'll visit the doctor every week from here on out until delivery. I'm measuring exactly where I need to be and feeling a very active baby inside of me. It's almost a comforting feeling having someone with you all the time. I think I'm going to miss that after giving birth.
More update on specifics later.
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