The Birth of Cooper Chase Clifton

For those who are unaware, after getting pregnant with Chase, I decided to do a home-study hypnobabies course which focuses on self hypnosis to have a more comfortable birth. I had wanted an unmedicated birth with Brynlee, but that didn't happen and there was a lot about her birth that I wanted to be different with Chase's. I really wanted to be able to listen to my body and have a good experience. My favorite part of the course was changing my perception of birth and releasing my fear surrounding the experience. I wasn't as diligent with it as I could have been, but it still helped me a ton and I was very happy with my experience. And so it begins.

I had been really hoping to have Chase on January 5th, before Derek went back to school, but I would be full-term and all the chaos of Christmas would be over (plus 5 is my favorite number). The obviously didn't happen, and I was okay with it, but still a little bummed.

I had quite a few events happening the following week (which was a big change of pace since I didn't get out much). At each event I imagined what it would be like if my water broke there. I had also been imagining my water breaking in my birthing time--something I don't remember AT ALL with Brynlee's birth (I have no idea if it happened naturally or if the doctors broke it or anything). In my mind, if my water broke, I would know for sure he was coming soon. Alas, I got through all my plans and still no baby.

I had a doctor's appointment on the 15th and I saw a newborn little girl there. It made me so so anxious to have my baby earth-side. I was getting really overwhelmed with questions about if I was progressing and questions about the baby--I felt like it was my fault nothing was happening (thanks hormones), but at the same time, I just wanted this baby to come when he was ready (but hurry up and be ready already!).

By that Friday, the 19th, Derek started asking me if I could go get my membranes stripped and I didn't know if I wanted to or not; I felt silly, but he made an appointment and they got me in that afternoon. I thought I was told I was dilated to a 4, but later found out she said I was like a 3. The stripping wasn't too bad and I went home to wait.

Much to my chagrin, I made it to my appointment on Jan 22, my due date, and still didn't have a baby. My doctor checked me and asked if I wanted my membranes stripped again, to which I said, well why not. He said I was at a 4. We discussed induction--something I really didn't want, but I wanted to know how long they would let me go. He said I was a really good candidate for induction since my cervix was progressing, but I said I wanted to avoid that if at all possible. This stripping seemed more intense and I had more bleeding after it than the previous time.

That night Derek and I decided to brave the cold and walked back and forth to the workshop at the bottom of the hill in our backyard. I tried walking with one foot on a beam on the ground and was so hopeful, yet didn't think anything would come of it.

I awoke to some pressure waves (the early morning of the 23rd), and tried to sleep through them, but decided to get up and listen to some of my hypnobabies tracks. I wasn't timing them, but they seemed to be about 5 minutes apart and I was up for a couple of hours. I decided to try to go back to sleep and then was very cranky when morning came and nothing had happened. I was sleep deprived and felt like an idiot because I was sure that was the beginning of my birthing time, but now I just didn't know what was going on.

Thankfully my mom was willing to watch Brynlee and I just got some more sleep. Around 3 pm I started having consistent pressure waves again and I decided I would start tracking them. I still felt cranky because I thought it would be just like it was in the night. Derek kept telling me to let him know if he needed to come home from school. I was having a hard time knowing when to go to the hospital, let alone knowing how much time to give him to get home and then go!

They were about 5-6 minutes apart and I just tried to watch TV and keep myself distracted. I wasn't having too bad of a time with them, but wanted to focus on relaxing through the waves and not getting my hopes up. Derek got home and we ate dinner and then I decided to go downstairs and make sure everything was ready for the hospital.

Derek asked me if we should get going or if he could put Brynlee to bed first. I said just put her to bed--expecting it not to take too long. While he was doing that, I noticed my waves were starting to be about 2 minutes apart. I was talking to my sister, Jessica, asking how she felt with her last birth because I still felt like my pressure waves were very manageable, but they were so close together. She kept telling me to leave for the hospital. I kept waiting and it felt like Derek took forever to come back from putting Brynlee to bed.

Eventually he did and I told him how close together they were and that I was getting anxious to leave. We packed up in the car and headed to town. It was about 6:30 at this point and it was dark and rainy. I didn't anticipate having a hard time in the car, but it was more difficult than I expected. The road was bumpy and I wasn't very comfortable. I was also getting worried because my waves were slowing down to closer to 5 minutes again and I didn't want to be going to the hospital for nothing.

We got to the hospital at about 7 pm and I was feeling nervous to go inside. When we got in, the nurse asked why we were here. I gave her a blank look thinking, "are you serious? Why do you think?" but told her about my contractions and what not. She told me to change, take a urine sample, and they would monitor me and check me. I wasn't particularly liking how things were going, but went along with it. She kept asking me questions and I was trying to stay calm through my waves, getting annoyed with her asking. I would just close my eyes and focus while having one and she would just keep prodding for the answers and acting like she didn't understand why I wasn't answering. My annoyance was growing. I just wanted to get to a room and be left alone.

She checked my cervix. I had told Derek I didn't want to know what I was at unless it was at least a 7, because I felt so depleted with Brynlee when I was told I had barely progressed at all and that's when I decided to get an epidural. Derek started to stop her from telling me, but my pride got the better of me and I just wanted to know. She told me I was still at a 4. I was honestly surprised but just took a deep breath and didn't let it get me down. I was still managing well and I knew I could do this.

One of the midwives from my clinic came in to talk to us--the only one I hadn't met was on call (of course). She just kind of sat there making awkward small talk and I honestly was not really impressed at first. She then saw the results form my urine and said it looked like I was a little dehydrated and implied that that was likely the cause of my contractions--ones that are annoying but don't cause any progression. I wanted to roll my eyes, but I was working hard to stay positive. They told us to walk the halls for an hour and they would check me again and decide what to do from there.

Derek and I walked around the quiet halls--stopping when I needed to in order to focus on my body and allow it to work. I felt embarrassed whenever we would pass the nurse's desk and I wished we could just be by ourselves. There was one girl who was in labor while I was there. I kept wondering what was happening with her and how she was handling things. Eventually the nurse asked if I was ready to be checked again. I was shocked, "Has it already been an hour?" She said almost, so we said we'd do one more round and then she could check.

When we got back to the triage room, I sat down on the bed. Everyone--me, the nurses, the midwife--were pretty sure I was going to be sent home at this point. It didn't feel like much had changed. I had a big pressure wave and felt like I could hear and audible "POP". And then it happened: a big gush of fluid. I look to Derek, "My water just broke!" He gets this shocked look, "Are you sure?" I probably tilted my head and raised my eyebrows, "I'm sure!" He opened the door and told the nurse what I had said. My heart started pounding more and I felt my excitement growing. I took a deep breath and smiled. I had proved them wrong and my son would be here soon. The nurse came in not too long after and lifted up my gown, "It sure did break! I guess you're staying!"

My waves felt stronger after my water broke, but I felt so invigorated. My water had broke all on its own and this baby was coming! I just kept thinking, "now get me to my room; I want in the tub!"

They finally got us to our room and Derek started filling the tub immediately. They told him I couldn't get in until they finished all these questions. More questions? Are ya kidding me? (But really...isn't this the point of pre-registering? So we don't have to do this during my birthing time!) I just let Derek answer most of the questions and I just laid in the bed, focusing. Derek started telling them our desires for the birth and how we wanted the environment to be, I heard him say, "I didn't do very well in my practice run of this, but here it goes..." I had to smile. I was so grateful he was willing to go with my wishes and be my buffer for the staff. They dimmed the lights and continued with the questions.

Before they finished, I started to notice my body was feeling "pushy" with the waves. When she finally finished I said, "I know this is going to sound crazy, but I feel pushy already." It didn't feel like too much time had passed, and I hadn't been checked since I got there, but it couldn't be time already. They checked me and I was at a 7. Derek asked if I wanted to get in the tub, to which I emphatically said yes. The nurse said she would have to check with the midwife. I was told no! I was too far along and since I was feeling pushy, if I got in, they were afraid I would have the baby in the tub (which wasn't allowed at this hospital).

I was laying on my side, grasping the handrails. I asked Derek to hold my top leg up, to help me feel more comfortable. He kept asking me if I wanted to try different positions, and I did, but I felt like I couldn't move and just stayed there the whole time. I just kept letting my body direct me and do what it needed to do. At one point, maybe after they checked me again, I heard the nurse say that the midwife was still in with the other mama in labor and that they were going to call another doctor to come, but she ended up getting in not long after that.

Derek told me I could feel the baby's head if I wanted to experience that, but I didn't feel ready yet. A few contractions later and I decided I wanted the motivation. I reached down and could feel his hair. It was an incredible experience to feel my child starting to enter this world. At one point Derek told me, "He has dark hair, just like his daddy!" I started to cry. I wanted him to have dark hair (turns out it isn't nearly as dark as we thought, and it has lightened up since then).

I never felt like my contractions were more than I could handle. I was surprised at the burning sensation I felt, which I later learned is deemed "the ring of fire." I hadn't been prepared for that sensation, but I knew it was bringing me closer to my son.

I kept telling myself that I could do this in between pressure waves and just did what I needed to during them--quiet and controlled. Derek would say encouraging things to me and he was the only one I heard almost the whole time. I did hear one nurse phone to get more support in, and then she said "No, I mean like right now." I knew I must be getting close. I had kept my eyes closed most of the time, but I remember looking up and seeing the clock for the first time since being in triage. 11:50 pm. I had thought it would be cool if he was born on 01-23, and I told myself I had 10 minutes left to get him out.

Finally I felt his head break free. I couldn't believe it. I had done it. I didn't know what to expect from there because it seemed like Brynlee came out all at once (with a vacuum). The midwife then said, "I need a big push for the shoulders." I just sat there. I didn't feel like pushing and I didn't really hear her. She said "one big push" and I realized I had to do something. I pushed and got him out and he was brought to me. I couldn't believe it. I told him, "Hi bud! We did it!! We did it!" I was flooded with emotions and couldn't believe the journey we had been on and how different it had been than with Brynlee. Everyone couldn't believe how long he seemed.

I don't remember delivering the placenta, (I just asked Derek about it). Apparently it was a while after, I had been holding Chase and they told me to push and I guess I did . I must have been so caught up in him, because I have NO recollection of that taking place (thanks, hormones for completely erasing that from my memory).

I couldn't have asked for a better experience bringing my son into this world (aside from annoying practices of hospitals at the beginning). Derek filmed the birth, without my knowledge, but I am SO SO glad he did. I love watching it and I still tear up seeing my precious boy come into this world and I feel so empowered. Our bodies are incredible and I am so grateful for the precious gift of life.

Welcome to this world, my perfect little Chase man, it is so beautiful to meet you.

Brynlee Blake Clifton Enters the World

I started the morning of Monday April 18th (2 days past my due date) throwing up...no surprise there. As most of you know, pregnancy was really difficult for me. I was so ready to be done, and I was getting worried because we were moving in just under 2 weeks. I had a doctors appointment and I was desperate to be making some progress.
I had my cervix checked, and I can't remember what I was at at this point, but probably like 1.5 cm. They stripped my membranes and I filled out paperwork to be induced on Wednesday morning if things didn't happen by then. It felt nice to finally know that I had a definite day things would get going, but I did NOT want to be induced. He gave me the option of just going in that day or waiting, but I was set on not having an epidural. So, we waited to see what happened.
All day I felt terrible and could barely keep anything down (what's new, right?). Tuesday morning wasn't much different except around 10 a.m. I was finally having some contractions. It was VERY manageable, but I was having them consistently around 7 mins apart. I got a little serge of energy at some point, and as I said I was desperate, so I decided I was going to go for a walk with Derek and a friend of his from back home who was passing through town. As the walk continued, it got harder to keep walking through the contractions, and by then end I was needing to stop during them. We got back home and I was honestly really wishing the friend would leave (sorry Daylen). Eventually he did and I thought it was probably time to pack my hospital bag (how's that for procrastination?).
By 4 I had been having contractions any where from 3-5 mins apart for well over 2 hours. I was still fairly manageable at this point, but I had been told if I had contractions every 5 mins for 2 hours to come in. I was really nervous about getting sent back home, so I kept putting it off, but eventually we made our way.
When we got there they put me in the room you go in while they decide if they're going to keep you or not. They asked a bunch of questions and monitored my contractions and checked me. Derek made a point that I wanted to do things naturally. When she checked me I was about a 3. Progress, but I was disappointed. She said if I was going to do it without pain meds, that she recommended going home and laboring there until I couldn't handle it any more and then to come back. I was a little embarrassed and nervous, but back home we went.
We tried watching an episode of Sherlock (I think) and I was starting to get antsy. I began squeezing Derek's hand through my contractions. I was having a hard time focusing. I couldn't take it anymore so I decided I'd try a bath (like the nurse suggested) to relax me. Except when you have a normal sized bath tub and you're big and fat and pregnant, only so much of you can fit under the water. If I laid down, my belly stuck out. I tried sitting, still wasn't deep enough. I felt so desperate to get some relief and I think the bath frustrated me more because I really wanted it to help and it just wasn't working. Finally I decided we were going back to the hospital. I think it was around 8 or 9 p.m.
I got put back in the pre-admitting room and waited to get checked. I was ready for an epidural, a little disappointed in myself. I thought, well maybe I'll decide when they tell me what I'm at.
They got the girl who had checked me last time and she checked again. She asked what she had said I was at before, I told her a 3, she said, you might be at a 3.5 now.
I think my heart fell to the floor when I heard that. Surely I had dilated more than that in the last 4 hours or so! At that point I knew I was getting an epidural. If I had been further progressed or had been feeling better (had some food in me) I might have been able to do it, but I knew I needed some relief if I was going to make it through the night and through delivery. Derek kept saying, "no, you can do it! You wanted to do it without," which I am actually grateful for since I told him I really needed him to support me on the decision, but at that point I just felt like I was defeated and letting us both down.
I got admitted and they started getting ready for me to have my epidural. I was pretty nervous because of my scoliosis, I didn't know if it would even work or how things would go. That was the first thing I asked when the anesthesiologist (or whatever they're called) walked in the room. He said I might only get numb on one side and I'd have to tell him so that things would work. He was right. I'm pretty sure I was only going numb on one side. I got nervous. He had to adjust things, but eventually it started working.

It makes sense now, given everything, but I had NO idea I had something left in my back! Like NONE! Not until months later did I see a picture of my back when they put it in and it clicked what had actually happened. I was a little out of it.
That night is a total blur. I didn't feel like I got much sleep, but I must have. The nurses kept saying I was progressing really well, especially after getting the epidural. Apparently most people slow down, but I didn't seem to be.
The next thing I know I'm waking up with this urge to push. It was such a weird feeling. I wasn't in a ton of PAIN necessarily, but I felt very overwhelmed by them. I kept telling myself, "NO! You can't push! You have no idea how dilated you are!" I think I had it in my mind that I would like push a few times and out would be my baby. I was trying to hold it in, trying so hard.
Around 7 a.m. April 19th, they FINALLY came in to check me. I was so glad. They said I was at a 9! HALLELUJAH! I was so excited. I told them I was having a reallllllly tough time not pushing. They talked to my doctor and he didn't want me to push until I was fully at a 10. I told them I needed some more drugs or I couldn't keep from pushing. Apparently I had a button I could push to give me more. Only, my button was broken so it was doing me no good. Any time (which it happened at least like 3 or 4) I needed more (again, not from pain so much, but to keep me under control) they would have to call the anesthesiologist, I'd wait a good 45 mins for them to come, they'd give more, and I'd wait about half an hour for it to kick in. And it would last...oh I don't know, didn't seem like very long.
Eventually my doctor came in to check on me. He told me they needed to catheterize me (which in my head I was seriously screaming THANK YOU, because I felt like I was going to pee my nonexistent pants for like hours) and then still said he wanted the lip of my cervix to be gone before I pushed. I didn't know how I was going to make it.
They kept checking me and checking me and I was just stuck at a 9.
Eventually they asked if I wanted to "practice pushing" thinking maybe that would help me get to a 10. I said YES.
I was a little confused though, I asked, "so I don't have to hold it in?" They told me no (a little like I was crazy) and I was flabbergasted. I had been trying to hold it in this whole time. Looking back, maybe I wouldn't have been stuck at a 9 if I had just listened to my body instead of the dang nurses/doctor (but I love him).
Derek and my mom or a nurse helped to hold my legs while the nurses were coaching me through pushing. It felt a lot better to try pushing, but I was getting tired fast (keep in mind I haven't had any substantial food for close to....36-48 hours and have been in labor for like over 24 hours already). They kept telling me I was making good progress, but looking back, I think they must say that to everyone. "Push, push, push!" "Hold it!" "3, 4, 5, 6" "All the way down to your bottom!" I heard those phrases over and over and over. And pushed, I tried. They asked me if it felt better through the contractions to push, and I said yes, but it is hard work! And I had been laying on a couch, throwing up for 9 months! I was not in shape! I was taking breaks every once in a while, and some random nurse came in and told the other nurses I shouldn't be taking breaks, but should be pushing through every contraction. I hated her in that moment.
I was seriously at 9 cm for hours. They kept warning me the baby would probably be cone-headed because she was in the birth canal for so long. I didn't care, I was expecting that.
They asked me if I wanted a mirror so I could see my progress. I thought it sounded so weird and said no. Plus my eyes were closed most of the time, anyway, so I didn't want to bother.
At some point they said they could see her head and in my mind that meant like....she was almost out (the things your mind does to you while you're desperate to get your baby out). I asked desperately, "DOES SHE HAVE ANY HAIR?!" through my heavy breaths, trying to find some motivation. They said "uhhh....it's kinda hard to tell." Which at the time I thought, "how dumb can you be? Does she have hair or not? It isn't that hard to tell!" Because you know, I thought they could see a head, not like a quarter size tiny part of the head Derek later told me they could see.
I remember at one point smelling something weird and dismissing it. Then later I turn to Derek and ask, "did I poop?" He says, yes you did, but it's okay. Well there ya have it ladies and gentleman. Labor is not a pretty sight. I have no idea how they cleaned it up, or if they did or what. I chose to pretend like I didn't hear it. My dignity was long gone and I didn't care anymore.
During one of my pushing contractions, Derek says, "Come on, Kendra! PUSH!" I loudly stated to him, "I AM!" I was not happy and thought he thought I was just moseying through labor. He likes to tell people I swore at him. I didn't. That's the harshest thing I said to him.
At some point my doctor finally came in to "start the real pushing" and we had my mom go out in the hall. She had been with us up to this point, but we wanted the point when Brynlee came to just be us.
I thought I had been pushing hard, but holy cow things got intense with the doctor. He kept telling me I could push harder and pull my legs back further. I kept thinking, "no, I really can't." After a while of pushing, he stopped and looks at me. He says, "I can tell you're tired. You've been working hard. Do you want me to try to help things along with the vacuum?" Emphatically I replied yes. I was sooo drained. He tried through multiple contractions and it kept popping off her head. I was getting frustrated. The next thing I know I feel this almost gush and everyone is saying she's here. I felt a rush of relief and anxiety all at once.
A tiny cry.
They took my babe over to the little bassinet and away from me. I wanted to cry. I so desperately wanted to see her. They had to suction her out and my heart was racing.
I don't even know when placenta came out, but was relieved to hear that it came out whole and looked like everything was good with it. Dr. Evans said they'd send it to the lab just to make sure everything was normal.
My head kept spinning. I was worried about my baby. I don't think there was any reason to worry, but I still hadn't seen her and Derek was over there taking pictures and I'm pretty sure my mom came in before I even saw her.
I tore. Badly. I started getting stitched up and holy cow it was hurting. I was trying to put on a brave face, but I kept wincing. Eventually Dr. Evans says, "Are you feeling this?!" with a worried tone. I said YES! "Why didn't you TELL ME?! I'll give you some numbing medicine." I can't remember if it helped or not. I was trying to crane my neck to see my babe.
It felt like an eternity. I kept thinking...excuse me, I want my skin to skin. I worked hard for this baby, I deserve to hold her! But I kept waiting. Finally the nurse says, "okay, she's all ready, would you like us to bring her over to you?"
Before I could scream the answer that DUH I wanted my baby! Dr. Evans beats me to the punch and shouts, "NO! I'm almost done here, hold on!" I could've strangled him in that moment. How dare he tell me no.
Soon enough my sweet angel was brought into my arms and it was literally Heaven for me. She was so perfect and my whole heart was bursting. My skinny little babe was finally here and she was all mine, and she didn't even have a cone head.
Oddly enough the maternity ward didn't have any water so it took a day for her and I to really get cleaned up, but we loved each other and she was the best thing to ever happen.

My birth didn't go as I had imagined it, but it is ours, and it is perfect. Brynlee is the biggest blessing in my life and each day I grow to love her more and more. Bryn Babe, welcome to this crazy journey, I hope you can trust me and talk with me. Tell me your struggles and your worries. I will always be here for you to hold your hand and wipe your tears. I hope we can be the best parents for you; you certainly deserve the world.

Brynlee Blake Clifton you are my light.

Release the Momma Bear

The day Brynlee turned 3 months old (Tuesday, the 19th) she started acting finicky and was feeling warm. We finally checked her temperature that evening and she was at 100.6 (looking back this was quite low, but at the time I was worried. Derek went to the store to get some meds while I called the on-call nurse to figure out what her dosage would be. She told me that they really don't worry about fevers unless they are over 104 degrees. I was shocked. She told me to give her Tylenol alternating with Motrin and told me the dosage for both would be 2.5 mL.

When Derek got home from the store, I relayed the information and we looked at the syringes that came with each medication. I had been looking online and everything seemed to say don't give Motrin to kids under 6 months old. The dosage for the Motrin seemed WAY too high, like 2 full syringes. I said we were just going to stick with the Tylenol and that's what we did. We gave it to her and put a cool cloth on her head then put her to bed. She woke up multiple times in the night, but wasn't eating well and we continued to give her medication as needed. Wednesday night she was at 101.8 and things continued.

On the 21, things seemed to be up the up and up and she wasn't having a fever, but still wasn't eating very well or urinating as much. I pumped more this week than I ever have (my frozen milk supply more than tripled). I went to my OBGYN that day and told him about what was going on and what the nurse had said. He made it seem like you should be worried about anything over 102, which seemed more reasonable to me. Friday afternoon her fever came back (under 101). I thought about calling the doctor again and trying to get her in, but remembered what the nurse said and figured they wouldn't do anything.

Then yesterday hit.

I took her temp at 11:30 and she was 102.7. This made me very anxious. I gave her Tylenol and started asking my family what I should do. I called the on-call nurse again (got the same lady) and she asked if I had been alternating between Tylenol and Motrin. I said no, just Tylenol. To which she replied, "Oh yeah, she's only 3 months, you can't give her Motrin." I was NOT happy at this point--not only had she told me last time to give her a medication she shouldn't be having, but Brynlee probably would have overdosed on it if I had just trusted the nurse's word. The nurse didn't clarify if she was talking about Children's Motrin or Infant's Motrin. Naturally with an infant, we got the infant's Motrin. The dosage she gave us was for children's, which was at least double the infant dosage. My momma-bear instincts were already flaring.

The phone call continued.

She went on again about how they don't worry about it until 104, I told her what my OBGYN said, and she said that only for 2 month olds is a fever over 102 a medical emergency. She said if I'm really that worried about it (in what to me was a very condescending tone), I can take her to urgent care, but they'd probably not be able to do anything for me and just tell me to keep doing what I'm doing. Annoyed I said, "So I just let my 3 month old go on with a fever indefinitely? At what point has it lasted too long?" She asked when it had started again and said, "Well I guess if it hasn't started to trend down by tomorrow, I guess you could take her in." I was annoyed and said goodbye.

I felt so dismissed and like I was being silly for being concerned. I checked her temp an hour after giving the Tylenol and she was still 101, so at that point I decided I was taking her in. Derek was working, and I really didn't want to do this alone. Thankfully my mom came with me and we took her to Urgent Care. Already I felt so much more heard than I had been from the doctor's office. The doctor came in and checked her ears, throat, lungs and heart, as well as her lymph nodes. He said my fear: everything looked normal. I hate going to the doctor and being told everything is fine when it clearly isn't. Thankfully he didn't stop there. He said with little girls, especially, but babies with unexplained fevers in general, there are two more things that need to be checked: her urine and her blood to check for infection.

"Unfortunately we can't do that here, so you're going to have to go to the ER."

I felt like I was in shock a little bit. I wasn't ready to take my tiny baby to the ER. But to the ER we went.

We got there and got checked in relatively quickly. I LOVED everyone we saw there. I'm not kidding. People listened to my concerns, validated my worry, and took care of my little girl. We DID wait foreeveeerrrr to see the doctor, but I was okay with it. The nurse asked a bunch of questions, took her vitals, and told the doctor he needed to lay eyes on her and make sure everything was okay. She mentioned that since she was barely 3 months old, they might treat her like a 2 month old, which would mean more tests (I swear she mentioned a spinal tap, which kinda freaked me out), but it would just depend on the doctor.

(Here is my little sweetie looking scared and disgusted at being in this strange ER as she holds on to momma's finger)

When he finally checked her, he repeated what they did at the urgent care, giving the same result: everything looked normal. But then he said next they'd check her urine, but at this point they wouldn't be checking her blood. I was a little surprised by that, but figured we'd see what the urine was like.

When it was finally time to catheterize her, I was feeling really nervous for her. They were getting ready and my anxiety was building as they kept saying it was really hard to see because she's so tiny. They noticed some puss coming out, so they figured this was going to be the culprit of her fever. Luckily, on the first try they got the catheter in and they got some urine; turns out her urine was VERY "dirty" and cloudy.

Although this wasn't a good thing, it was a huge relief to know that we now knew what was going on and could start helping her. The nurse turned to me and said, "good for you trusting your mommy instincts." I know it was simple, but that really meant so much to me.

They gave her a shot of a broad-spectrum antibiotic, and a prescription to pick one up. They'd be culturing her urine and if whatever grew wasn't covered by the prescribed antibiotic, they'd call and prescribe something else. As they were discharging us, they told us if she vomits or has severe lethargy to bring her back to the ER and that she needs to follow up with her doctor this coming week.

We went home and I then had to have the joy of finding a pharmacy that was still open, and of course my phone was dead. It took me about an hour and a half (after begging the people in riteaid to let me use a phone) to finally get her prescription.

I cried as I was driving around looking for it; I guess I had been holding my emotions in, and I was so tired and drained by this point that I just couldn't hold it in anymore.

When I finally got home, Brynlee was feeling REALLY warm and I took her temp: 103.7. I started to feel really anxious again--this was dangerously close to what everyone agreed was a "medical emergency." I gave her tylenol, and held a cool cloth over her head until I felt she was cooling down, and then laid her in her bassinet.

I couldn't sleep.

I stayed up for an hour, checking on her, then finally fell asleep. In another hour, I woke up and peeked in on her. She was wide awake, laying there contently, and gave me tons of smiles when she saw me. She felt much cooler, and I was a little more at peace.

Today she still has not been eating well at all, and slept more than half the day. She's still got a fever and I'm praying that things will start looking better soon. I miss my poor baby girl's happy self. She just isn't the same. And it is no fun pumping medicine into my little baby. She isn't a fan either.

So grateful for doctors and nurses that listened to my concerns and found the culprit of what was ailing my little princess.

Now to find a new doctor to take her to so I don't have to deal with that stupid office ever again.

It Could Have Been Worse

It could have been A LOT worse. Car accidents—big or small—are jolting no matter what. However, they’re even more nerve shattering when you’re carrying an unborn baby.

Derek and I decided to set out for Canada on Tuesday evening instead of Wednesday morning in order to try to avoid the brunt of the snow storm. I was a little nervous about the late hour and all the snow coming, but trusted Derek’s ability to maneuver it. Little did I know there were other things I SHOULD have been worrying about.

 About an hour into our drive, I decided I’d try to get a little rest in case I needed to drive. I rested my head in my hand as I propped myself up on the middle console of the car.

The next thing I know, I’m being jolted awake as the car comes down like a wave as one side of the car makes contact with the pavement and then the other until all four wheels are once again on the road and we’re driving normally, pulling off to the side.

Derek tells me we hit an elk.  My heart is racing, I feel like I could throw up. I don’t know what we’re supposed to do from here.

My thoughts immediately go to my growing baby. PLEASE be okay.

We step out of the car to see what’s been done to the car. Before I can even get to the other side of the car, a man (who I later learned was helping the car that first hit the elk—totaling their SUV) had walked up to us and was checking on us. He helped us look at the car’s damage as I stood there in a daze—the stench of elk guts permeating my senses. All I can think of is my small child.

Before we left, the guy who first hit the deer also came to check on us and said they had dragged the elk off the road so hopefully no one else would hit it; their car was toast and they were no longer going home for Thanksgiving.

As we start on our journey again, I can’t fully grasp what we have just experienced. I try to take calming breaths and play through my mind what I understand of the events that have just unfolded. We ran over a dead elk on the road going 80 MPH as Derek tried to give the cars pulled over to the right some space. Some contents of our car had gone flying around the car, but as far as I could tell, we hadn’t been too affected.

We stopped at a nearby town to get a better look, try to call Derek’s dad, and get some disinfectant to clean off the guts from the steering wheel and such (Derek got some on his hands while pulling a loose piece of our bumper off). My family encouraged me to call the doctor and see if I needed to do anything. The on-call nurse didn’t seem very concerned at all, which bothered me a little and made me feel dumb. She just said if I have bleeding or feel decreased fetal movement to go to Labor & Delivery and they’d check me out. I worried and longed to feel my baby kicking, but wondered how I’d know if it had “decreased.”

It was hard to tell if the baby was moving with the car ride. It was getting late, the roads weren’t good and we were traveling slowly. I felt like I couldn’t even blink, scanning the sides of the road for any movement or eyes reflecting back at me. Eventually Derek told me to sleep (I think he could tell how exhausted I felt, physically and emotionally), but when I closed my eyes, I was still filled with anxiety. Any time I felt the car start to slow, heard Derek yawn, or basically anything else, I would open my eyes to check that things were still okay. I felt like I had been dreaming and this whole trip would dissipate when I opened my eyes. I couldn’t get a grasp on reality. I didn’t, and still don’t, fully understand what happened, and wish I could just go back through my memory, or watch from a bird’s eye view, exactly what happened; make sense of everything and set myself straight. Alas, I do not have that luxury.

When we finally made it to Great Falls, MT (still 3 hours to home), we decided to stop for the night and I was immensely grateful. I wasn’t feeling well, I desperately needed to sleep, and I wanted my brain and body to just relax and not worry about the trip for a few hours. When they gave us our room, we used the bathroom and as we washed our hands, we realized the sink pipe was DUMPING water onto the carpet. We decided to switch rooms and finally get some sleep.

Luckily on the next morning’s drive the roads were mostly dry and we made it to our destination without any excitement. I was still feeling a little anxious about the ordeal, but we got a better look at the car and talked with the insurance, and everything should be covered (minus a $100 deductible), so we’re very blessed in that regard.

This Thanksgiving morning, Derek put his hand on my belly and said, “hey baby, I’m looking forward to being your daddy. I think Mom will be your favorite, though. She’s mine.” Very soon after, Baby Clifton started kicking like crazy and Derek felt it FOUR times! Which is double the amount he’s felt throughout the whole pregnancy so far! Plus I felt a TON more. I felt extremely blessed to be a little more assured that he/she is still growing in there.

We have been so immensely blessed and I can’t stop thinking about how much worse things could have been. We most likely would be dead if we had been the ones to hit the elk—which could have easily happened had we left even 5 minutes earlier. We were given such a tender mercy and were protected throughout our journey and I am immeasurably grateful. Baby Clifton kicks, reminding me of our precious blessing, as I finish writing this up. Less than a week until we can finally use pronouns! 

Beginning of my Pregnancy Journey

Saturday, August 8th, 2015

Today I am four weeks pregnant!! I still can hardly believe it. I started crying at about 12:15 a.m. on Thursday when I saw a very light, positive pregnancy test.

I thought I should do something more exciting to tell Derek than just waking him up like last time. But, once again, I couldn't wait. When I got home from work that night, I came home to these:

What a sweet husband I have. Well, I took another test today, just to be sure. 

I was feeling worried about the pregnancy tests not being as dark as I remember it being last time, then I remembered that I likely could have had a much higher HCG level than normal last time, so maybe it's a good sign that it isn't so dark.
Every time I go to the bathroom I'm nervous I'll have started my period, but thankfully I still haven't! It feels so unreal--and I haven't noticed too many differences yet. I do feel like I smell EVERYTHING, though (which was the case last time, as well). Luckily I'm not feeling sick, yet, let's pray that continues to be the case. We're praying every day that things will develop properly this time around. I'll be calling the doctor on Monday to see when I need to start coming in to get my blood checked and whatever else they're going to do given my situation. Anyway, not too much more to report at this point. We are VERY excited to be parents, and so hopeful that things will go smoothly this time.
I haven't told a single soul yet (aside from Derek, obviously). I'm pretty impressed with myself. I am terrible about keeping secrets! We'll see how long I last!

Saturday, August 15th, 2015

Today I am officially 5 weeks pregnant! And I've already had my first two doctor's appointment. I called on Monday and didn't hear back until Tuesday at some point. A part of me felt silly when the nurse said, "It sounds like you have some exciting news!" All I could say was, "we hope so." She/Dr. Evans wanted me to come in that day to get my blood checked. Derek was working all day (thus I had no car), so I was nervous trying to figure out how I would get there--especially without telling anyone why I needed to go to the Women's Clinic, and my good friend in the ward was out of town! Thankfully my wonderful neighbor let me borrow her car and off I went. It was uneventful, they drew my blood and said they'd call with the results and that Dr. Evans guessed the next step would be an ultrasound.
The next day, Wednesday, I received a call from some other nurse than the one I usually speak with (Dr. Evans' head nurse, Nita). She said they wanted me to come in for an ultrasound tomorrow. That made me a little nervous because I didn't know why it was such a rush. I asked how my numbers looked, she didn't seem to know, but I could hear Nita in the background saying they looked good. Anyway, I had to majorly rearrange my schedule so I could fit in the doctor's appointment.
Even with all my pleading, Derek wasn't able to get work off, so I had to go to the first ultrasound on my own. I was unbearably nervous. When they called my name and I went back, I was feeling so sick--not sure if this was the beginning of morning sickness, or just my nerves. I got changed and the ultrasound tech came back and said, "So we're just following up on everything again?" My heart sank....and again, I almost felt silly for thinking things could really be happening. I hesitantly replied, "Well....I'm almost a week late on my period......*mumble mumble*" Her face lit up, "OH!" I was surprised that she didn't know, and she re-looked at my chart and found the note in there. We laughed, mine with a nervous hint.
Finally I couldn't keep it in. I asked her what we should expect to see, especially since it's so early. I didn't want to be blindsided like last time, especially since I was here on my own. She said we MIGHT see the beginnings of a sac, but not necessarily. I clarified that if we didn't, it didn't mean something was wrong, and she confirmed it. I felt a little more at peace. She started doing the ultrasound and the TV monitor wasn't on. I wanted to see it! I said, "no monitor this time?" She sounded a little nervous and said, "I wanted to see what I was looking at first.......but okay," and she turned it on. There I saw the most tiny black dot--the small sac my baby would hopefully grow in.
She said it was so little (because I'm so early) that the machine wouldn't even give her a due date based on the measurements, but she said I was measuring about 5 weeks, give or take 10 days. Haha. She just used my last period to calculate and currently the due date is April 16th!

The rest of the ultrasound was pretty uneventful. I asked a lot of questions and she was nice and put up with me. She said Dr. Evans was out, but that he would likely want weekly ultrasounds at least until we see a heartbeat and we might as well schedule it for next week, and we can always cancel if he didn't think we needed it. She started talking like we could set one up for Monday, but I wanted to give it more time. We scheduled my next appointment for this coming Friday so both Derek and I could be there. I continued to question her about what we should be able to see at that point. She didn't really seem to want to give definite answers, but said, mostly we want to see growth, that things are progressing, and we should at least see a yolk sac most likely by that point. I was satisfied and went on my way.
I got called the next day saying Dr. Evans wanted to wait until the following Wednesday to do the ultrasound so he could meet with me afterwards, I told her that I really couldn't make Wednesdays work (both Derek and I work all day). After looong waits, we decided to keep the scheduled ultrasound and to schedule another one the following Friday where we would then meet with Dr. Evans as well.
My little sister and her hubby come into town today. We're having to hide a bunch of stuff to try to keep our happy little secret.
Keep growing, my little one!

Saturday, August 22, 2015

Today I am 6 weeks pregnant. Let's just say it's been a much harder week. Morning sickness hit me like a train at full speed and I wasn't handling it well. I didn't work almost the whole week and was having a really rough time. It has been an emotional week and I've been trying to keep my composure, but I'll be honest, I'm a wimp and don't handle this very well. I think it's also hard because it seems like we/I haven't allowed myself to get as excited as last time (don't get me wrong, I'm still thrilled), just until we're more sure things are developing as they should be.
Well, yesterday I talked with my boss about my schedule and how I didn't know if I was going to be able to handle everything. Thankfully he was very understanding and cut my work load down, but I think I might have to cut it down even more. I guess we'll see.
Yesterday we had our second ultrasound! This was a fun one! We saw a teeny tiny little peanut who has a heartbeat! That was such a blessing to see. We're excited to see as our little one continues to grow and develop! Right now they call it our "diamond ring," since all we can really see is the heart and the yolk sac. The little dot on the left is the heart, and the right circle is the yolk sac.

Today was Clarrissa and Christian's second reception. I was REALLY not feeling well, but trying my best not to show it. I have a feeling my family is starting to suspect something is up. I guess we'll see!
Anyway, really not much more to report this week other than....UGH my body hates me! Haha. Until next week!

Tuesday, September 15, 2015 

Wow, I can't believe it's been almost a month since I last wrote on this thing! I had another ultrasound on the 28th which was really fun! We got to see the growing peanut and see little limbs starting to form! Heartbeat was going strong which is always relieving to see. It feels like it's been forever since we've been to the doctor, even though it really hasn't. Head is in the upper right, with the little body going down the left side.

I met with Dr. Evans after this ultrasound and he honestly didn't really say much. He said he was so excited for us and talked about how he had been so worried about me when this journey started, but is so glad to see where they're going now. And that was pretty much it. He said we should schedule our first "official" appointment (the one between 9 and 12 weeks) and then we'd keep going from there.

I have been SO sick. It was getting worse and worse each week and I was in bad shape. I couldn't keep anything down, losing weight, becoming really dehydrated. Finally, this past Sunday I went in to urgent care and got an IV. I have been feeling much better since then and surprisingly haven't thrown up since then, which is like a huge improvement.
Oh, p.s. I'm 9 weeks now.
We get to see our little peanut on Thursday and then we're headed off to Oregon! I am sooo nervous for this ultrasound, but also excited. I can't stop thinking about different things I want to do in regards to the birth and having a newborn and everything. It's all exciting times, especially now that I'm not puking my guts up all the time.
We've told our families now, we couldn't keep lying to them, plus they were all suspecting anyway, especially given I was sleeping like half the day away. I still don't have much energy, but I'm working my way there and even though I'm pretty sure everyone would say my stomach is still flat, I am feeling so bulgey in my stomach and it feels like it's already sticking out to me.
All I keep doing is rubbing my belly and saying, "keep growing, little one!"

Tuesday, October 5, 2015

I'm now officially 12 weeks. Well, once again, I slacked at staying updated. The last month hasn't been as easy as I hoped. It's been BETTER, but even today I have already thrown up twice, so I'm not in the clear yet.
Well we had our first official appointment. I was so unbelievably nervous for this ultrasound. I would be past the point when I had lost the last one, and knew we'd be leaving straight from there to go to Oregon, so if it was bad news, I'd just have to deal with it for a while. I was feeling so sick in the waiting room, but I wore mascara (nonwaterproof) to try to be optimistic.
I couldn't really see the heartbeat in the baby, but it was like we had a little dancing bean in there, so it was clearly living. I almost started to cry because I felt so relieved. We had never seen our baby move around before and it is a really cool experience.

Then we got taken back and they start giving me all this stuff and asking me questions about genetic testing and on and on. It was all surreal. Finally I met with Dr. Allred, the other OBGYN at the clinic, and we talked to him about some questions we had and where we'd go from here. He said he'd like to have another ultrasound done before the anatomy scan, just to make sure the placenta isn't taking over and, of course, they'd keep track of my HCG levels. They drew my blood and we were on our way to Oregon.

While in Oregon my sister gave me her doppler and we tried to hear the heartbeat for the first time and were able to find it. Another way cool experience. We had seen it moving, but never heard it before. Loved it!

I got a call about a week later saying that my HCG levels were on the "high side of normal" so they wanted me to come in for another ultrasound. I told them I had one scheduled for the 15th, but they said they wanted me to come in the next week (this past Tuesday, the 29th).
Once again, I was so very nervous, of course my levels would be high.
Well the ultrasound check was kinda surprised to see me again, and they had taken out my fat file and made just a pregnancy one, so she didn't have all the background info anymore, but we started the ultrasound anything.
I started to panic when I didn't see Baby moving on the screen, but then she moved the wand and the little thing jumped like it was scared! I guess that woke him/her up! It was so cute to see this ultrasound, and I feel like I fell more in love with our little baby. We hadn't really seen the profile yet, it had been too small or the hand had been up by the face, blocking our view, but we got this adorable view, and I think our baby has the cutest nose!

Then the tech was looking at my file, looking at my levels and what is normal, while still holding the wand on my stomach. I started laughing and she looked at me saying, "are these numbers funny?" I pointed at the screen and this is what we saw:

I don't know why, but I just thought it was so funny, Baby just wanted to show us a little leg :)
Anyway, they drew my blood again and the next day told me the doc is much more comfortable with where my levels are at! Hooray!
We're getting more and more excited as time goes on, and we're so grateful for all the support.
Here's the beginning of my belly bump :)

I'm still having trouble eating enough, and I've lost weight. I'm excited to start gaining and to keep watching our little one grow!

The Moment We've All Been Waiting For....Drum Roll, Please

Most people who have a miscarriage are advised to wait to try for at least 3 months/cycles. I'll admit that I was pretty sad to hear that. Lately, it seems like I KEEP hearing about people who got pregnant MUCH quicker than the 3 month waiting period. (Jealous Kendra sometimes has a hard time with that). Here I am, 372 days after we found out we lost our baby, and I'm still "not allowed" to try.

As some of you may know, I had my MRI this past Tuesday. But, apparently I never blogged about my LAST MRI, so I guess I'll start there.

At the point of my last blog, we were still waiting to hear about my MRI results. I probably never wrote about what happened because I was so frustrated and hurt. Dr. Evans was out of town when I got the MRI, so we were waiting to hear from him when he got back into town. We kept trying to get a hold of his office, but things just weren't working out. One night, almost 3 weeks after the MRI, Derek and I had a long, late-night talk. We finally openly discussed how we were really feeling about the whole situation and we talked about how we really felt it was time for us to start trying and start our family. I can't tell you how good this conversation felt. It was literally like Christ, Derek, and I were sharing the yoke and together we could bear the load.

I called the office the next morning and to my surprise, things were finally working out. She said Dr. Evans wanted to meet with us and was SHOCKED that someone had cancelled and they could get us in on Monday (I think this was on a Friday). Derek and I were really wanting him to be at the appointment with me, but he had school and we weren't sure how things would work out. The lady on the phone told me the time, and I couldn't help but smiling that it perfectly fit into Derek's schedule. It felt like things were just falling into place and we were being blessed because we were relying on the Lord. Derek and I discussed how we were going to talk to Evans about our feelings and basically say, "Hey, we believe in God, we know you do, too. This is how we're feeling, what's your counsel, can we try?"

When we got to the doctor's office we literally waited for what felt like hours (and realistically probably was over an hour). When we were finally called back, Dr. Evans told us of how he had spoken with Dr. Gosewehr pretty extensively about this. My tumor/scar tissue had shrunk, but it wasn't gone. Either way I COULD NOT GET PREGNANT. That's the LAST thing "we" want right now. He said it didn't really matter if it was the tumor or the scar tissue, but that they would check my blood every month, for 3 months, and then repeat the MRI.

Derek and I were honestly so dumbfounded and upset that neither of us really said anything. I probably cried the whole way home. I'll admit, I was probably very angry with God. I felt like all these things had been prompting us and hyping us up, only to have it ripped away from us. I was hurt. I was angry. I was sad.

Fast forward 3 month.

Given how long the process was with the last MRI, I wanted to speed things up, get my MRI scheduled early and already have a follow-up appointment with Dr. Evans so we weren't waiting 3 weeks again.

So, like I said, I had my 3-month MRI on Tuesday. Today we had our follow-up appointment with Dr. Evans. All week Derek and I have really been trying not to get our hopes up. Wondering what bad news we were going to get; "It's grown," "nothing has changed," "it's shrunk a little, let's keep waiting 3 more months." Every possible solution had a frown on my face.

Okay, a small part of my hoped, begged, that it would be good news, but I just couldn't allow myself to feel the pain I had last time, so I quickly shut it out. We had been asking people to fast and pray for us, and as I sat in the room, waiting, I thought "why the heck do I keep telling so many people I'm having this stuff done? Now I'm going to have to tell everyone the bad news and be disappointed all over again." That's what I get for telling the world my story, I guess.

Waiting for the doctor feels like an eternity.

The nurse told me we were up next and my heart was racing. I would sit up straight, trying to be prepared, then slouch back down as I went through the scenarios in my head again. (talk about the roller coasters I put myself on). I felt like I was going to throw up. Or cry. Throw up and cry. (and let's just say I've been doing a lot of crying lately).

So, the knock on the door and the doctor walks in.

*deep breath* "I can do this, I can be strong," I think to myself.

"Well," Dr. Evans begins as I hold my breath, "the MRI looks fantastic!"

Again with the heart stopping. Had I heard that right? That wasn't one of my fathomable outcomes. *begin hyperventilation*

I'll be honest all I could think at this point was, "BABIEEEESSSS!!!!!"

But of course, I was getting ahead of myself.

He said he just got the results and hadn't had a chance to talk with Dr. Gosewehr yet (whom he greatly relies on, for which I am actually grateful, even though it's annoying to have to wait for that communication to happen). So he wanted to double check with him for what all we still needed to do. But, he said they'd check my blood and he wanted an ultrasound done within the next week. He also said that we may need to do a.....holy cow I must have been very distracted cuz I'm forgetting a lot of the names of things, but we might have to do this thing where they check the integrity of my uterine wall/lining. He wasn't sure if we'd need to, or if we'd just see how it holds up through pregnancy (which at the time seemed like "yeah, let's just get pregnant already," but now that I think about it, that sounds a little scary).

Anyway, that was pretty much all he said at that point. Then he starts dictating his report into his little recorder thing, he was saying the results of the MRI and mentioned two things that I remember thinking, "well what the heck is that? You didn't tell me that." But I don't know what exactly they were. I'd like to get my hands on that report and read it for myself. All I really care about though, is that I seem to be in the clear.

Anyway, I got my blood drawn and I went to schedule my ultrasound. Pregnancy, here I come!
Only, booooo. They can't fit me in until the 22nd, and of course, Dr. Evans will be out of town that week, so he can't get the results and talk with Dr. Gosewehr until he gets back. KILLING ME. Let's be honest, I'd like to start trying ASAP, soooo if we could get the results before I ovulate, that'd be great, thanks.

In the end, I almost cried, but not for the reasons I thought it'd be for. I almost cried because I was so elated.

I'm excited and happy, but also nervous and feel like it could still be a while before we can actually start trying, but hey. We're one step closer (even though every time we get one step closer, it seems 3 more steps are added), but I'm still grateful.

Thank you SO VERY MUCH for your fasting and your prayers. And for your support, from near and far. It means the world to me.

I don't know when we'll get pregnant, but please try not to ask me. I'm a bad liar and Derek and I aren't sure when we'll tell people given everything. But I promise that when we're ready to tell you, you'll know.

THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU

HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY 
FIIIIIIIINAAAAAALLLYYYYYYYYYYY

Insanity

When I can't sleep 'til nearly 3, I write some good ol' poetry.


Insanity

A fear I’ve had since I was young—

one I hoped would never come.

This monster I had never seen,

but it still haunted my every dream.

One day I opened my closet door

and suddenly I heard a boisterous roar.

My heart stopped its rhythmic beat;

my cheeks were filled with a fiery heat.

I lay on the floor face to face

with a monster of the darkest race.

Dazed and afraid, chills invading my skin,

I continued my day with a counterfeit grin.

I did not tell a single soul

about my new found, secret troll.

Each day I’d timidly wake to meet

this pesky monster always at my feet.

Try as I may to just pretend,

he never left—this unwanted friend.

I learned to live like I’d moved on,

even though the monster was never gone.

My worst fear has engulfed my mind,

a way to escape it, I must find.

But all my ignoring has gone in vain,

until the moment I release my pain.

I claw and tear and scream and yell.

This is my very own terrible Hell.

And thought I cannot bid him leave,

to a different reality, I’ll continue to cleave.

Until the day when I am found,

by fear and pain, so tightly bound.

He’s overcome me; I have lost.

Into his eternal cage, I’m carelessly tossed.