So while that title may sound like we have the answer to all your sleep-training woes, we really just found a solution that worked for Everett. Who knows if it will even work for our next baby, but it worked for this kiddo, and needs to be shared for posterity's sake!
After 4 weeks of waking up every 30 minutes-2 hours (in the middle of Spencer's traveling project 😑), we (I) finally decided to try some sleep training. Like everything with parenting thus far, I'd read just about everything online about sleep training, and everyone suggested waiting until 6 months to try anything and to not attempt anything in the middle of a regression. And to add to my first time mom confusion, just about everything online contradicted another theory, so I was incredibly frustrated and overwhelmed deciding what route we should take. But when it became obvious that Everett was waking up and crying in the middle of the night because he became attached to me putting him to sleep, I knew something needed to change.
At his 4 month doctor's appointment, I asked the pediatrician's recommended strategy for sleep training. She suggested a version of the Ferber method (that I was already considering) where the first night you let the baby cry for 5 minutes before you go in and comfort him without picking him up. You stick with 5 minutes for the whole night. The second night the interval is 7 minutes, the next night 10 minutes, the following 15, then 20. She said most babies don't even make it to the 20 minutes by the fourth night. She also said that he should be able to go a minimum of 4 hours at night without feeding, so if he wakes before then let him try and get back to sleep before comforting him.
I was so exhausted that I decided to start sleep training the night of his appointment. I'd wanted to put it off til a weekend when Spencer would be home and able to relieve me, but it couldn't wait.
Prior to the beginning of our sleep training, we'd implemented a bedtime routine. I truly think this has helped with Everett being able to put himself to sleep because it signals to him that it's bedtime. We didn't start as soon as some, but we'd had the routine going for about a month before taking the "rock to sleep" out of the routine. We also use white noise to help Everett sleep, and I think that also signals to him that it's time for sleep.
So the night of his appointment, I changed up the order of his routine. We did bath, feeding, book, then bed. Setting him in his bed, and knowing that he just wanted time with me was so hard, but I knew that it was the best thing for him, and for me. (And really, me getting more sleep has been better for him. I've been a much better mom during the day because I have energy.)
He cried pretty consistently the first 5 minutes, then I went in and comforted him. I kissed him, then smiled and said goodnight (apparently the smile is key because it tells the baby they are doing a good thing, that you aren't worried, and therefore they should be either). I ended up going in to comfort him 3 times before he finally started to settle. Once he was just fussing (and not full-on crying), I stopped my timer and just waited for him to fall asleep. On the first night it only took 25 minutes for him to fall asleep. I couldn't believe it. The doctor said to expect an hour+. (Another factor that I think played into our first night's success was that Everett had just gotten his 4 month shots, which can make babies sleepier than normal. So a sleepy baby + sleep training = success ?)
He slept from 6:15pm-11:45pm, then 12:00am-6am. He woke up ONCE. One time! I was so happy the next day. So happy!
It hasn't been a total breeze, but that was definitely the worst of it, and all things considered, that's really not that bad. To add to it, we'd been swaddling Everett because he had a pretty serious startle reflex, but we cut out the swaddle cold-turkey that first night of sleep training, and he did so great!
He is a whole different baby. He is sleeping deeper. He is sleeping longer. He is getting to sleep completely on his own. We are so proud of him. I also realize that this isn't the end of our sleep journey, but I definitely think the hardest part is finally behind us. Hopefully. I'll talk to you in five years. He's sure to have consistent sleep patterns by kindergarten, right?
Thursday, December 8, 2016
Monday, December 5, 2016
Everett Randall Bryson--A Birth Story
I always loved reading birth stories, but now that it's time to write one of my own, I question whether I can find the words to do it justice. I tend to be a rambler, but these are all the details that I want to remember forever.
I think this story best begins the day before I actually went into labor.
THE DAY BEFORE: Spencer's brother, Connor, came home from his mission! We spent the afternoon waiting anxiously at the airport, then went out for a celebratory lunch. There was a lot of excitement and good conversation. Spencer had to get back to work though, so we had to cut our time with Connor short. Spencer was looking forward to the chance to hang out with him some more, so when we were invited up to Bountiful to play some pickleball that evening, of course we said yes. (And when I say "we" were invited to play, I really mean Spencer was invited to play, and I was invited to cheer them on. There was no way this already uncoordinated girl was going to attempt to play a new sport at 40 weeks pregnant).
So I spent the evening trying to stay comfortable in 90 degree weather and a camp chair. I kept myself entertained by creating some Boomerangs of everyone playing pickleball. I joked that all the excitement of the day would hopefully make our little boy want some excitement for himself.
After a few games, we decided it was time to get Spencer home since he had to work the next day. When we got home, I was exhausted, and Spencer found a second wind and decided to stay up and play a video game.
Side note: the past few nights he'd stayed up late playing--trying to get in some good game time before the baby came. I'd started to worry about his lack of sleep if I went into labor during the night. I finally voiced this concern to Spencer that night and asked him not to be too crazy with his playing and come to bed at a reasonable hour--just in case. (This is important because I feel like this comment is what sent me into labor...). He laughed it off, kissed me good night, and I fell asleep.
THE DAY OF HIS BIRTH: At 2 a.m. I woke up (to an empty bed) with some pains that were very distinct and different from the discomfort of my frequent Braxton Hicks contractions. I did a quick Google search with a description of my pain, and all the signs told me these were true contractions. I started timing the contractions as I tried to fall back asleep. The pain quickly escalated so the idea of sleeping through them went out the window. So I focused on timing the contractions. They were pretty sporadic at first, which led me to believe I was probably in false labor or very early labor. They ranged from every 7 minutes to every 15. I kept thinking they'd stop any minute, so I stayed in bed for a bit longer before telling Spencer I was having contractions. I really didn't want to say I was in labor and then be wrong. After almost an hour of consistent contractions about every 6 minutes, I went into the office and told Spencer that I thought I was in early labor.
We spent the next two hours timing my contractions and trying to keep me distracted. By 5 o'clock, my contractions were 5 minutes apart, so I decided we should get ready to go (at our own pace) because things were looking pretty serious. By the time we were ready to go it was 6:30 and my contractions were every 3.5 minutes and quite painful. We made it to the hospital and got put in a triage room to see if I was actually in labor (meaning my dilation/effacement changed over the course of an hour).
During this time, Spencer tried to distract me and talk through my contractions, but they were just too painful. All I could do was breathe through them. What I needed the most was a distraction during the time between contractions, because all I could think about was the pain that was coming in a minute and a half. The nurse came in and out to check my blood pressure, but she mostly monitored my contractions from a computer at the nurses' station. At the end of the hour, she checked me again, and there was no change. My doctor happened to be at the hospital with a scheduled c-section, so she was going to talk to him when he was done to see what he wanted to do.
It took almost another hour to hear anything from my doctor, and this hour was the hardest. I was in so much pain and on top of that I was stressed that we were going to be sent home and I would have to deal with this pain for who knows how much longer. The nurse finally came back, and not-so-kindly delivered word from my doctor that I was, in fact, being sent home. He expected I'd be back later that night or the next day. I was defeated and so, so sad! I was worried all morning that I wasn't really in labor, and here I was at the hospital and the nurse was telling me I wasn't in labor. The most frustrating thing was that I had all the signs of labor that they tell you to go to the hospital for--contractions that were less than 4 minutes (that was my doctor's interval) lasting for an hour or more, that you couldn't talk through. So I asked the nurse how I was supposed to know when I should come back. She said when they were increasing in frequency or pain (...uhhh we're already there, hun). Obviously, I was a little too good at dealing with the pain because I was already at my maximum for pain and couldn't imagine it getting worse. (In hindsight, I should've had her check my dilation again, because I'm certain I'd progressed in that extra hour we waited).
I was offered a shot of morphine and percocet, and since they weren't expecting me to deliver anytime soon, they said it would wear off for me and the baby before he was born. I was desperately in need of something to help with the pain, so I accepted the chance for the shot. I felt the morphine before we even left the parking lot, but unfortunately the only effect I felt was drowsiness--no relief from the pain. We made it home and decided to try and nap. I probably slept for a half hour, then the pain of the contractions woke me up again. Even with all these reasons I should be asleep (side effect of the drugs and lack of sleep the night before), the pain of the contractions kept me awake.
We had lunch, meaning I nibbled at a sandwich, and put on an episode of American Ninja Warrior to try and distract me. It didn't work. I tried walking around the room. Spencer tried massaging my back. I tried breathing through it. Nothing helped, but I was terrified of going back to the hospital and being sent back home. Spencer kept telling me we should go, but I, being the stubborn girl that I am, kept putting it off, saying I was fine to wait it out a bit more at home.
By 2:30pm, my body was exhausted and sore from 12 hours of labor, and I just couldn't take it anymore. I told Spencer we needed to go to the hospital, and he happily obliged.
We got there, and the same nurse that sent us home was there. I was spitefully happy to see her there to prove to her that I was in fact in labor that morning when I was sent home. We signed in and got put back in the same triage room. A nurse came in and checked me, and I was at a 6 with a bulging bag of water. I WAS STAYING! I'd dilated almost 4 cm in 5 hours, and I tell you, I felt every centimeter (not really, but the pain was definitely there). The nurse was shocked that I made it that far without coming into the hospital! I explained that we'd already been in and sent home, and she was impressed that I progressed that far on my own.
We got moved into a delivery room, and they got me set up with an IV. As soon as the IV was in they could call for the anesthesiologist to come and administer the epidural. The wait for him to get there was so HARD! Knowing that relief was on the way, but not knowing exactly how long I had to wait was killer. I didn't end up waiting too long; he was there within 15 minutes of my IV being finished. I almost cried when he walked in the door. I've never been more excited for a needle in my life. I didn't feel any pain from the placement of the epidural, and I felt immediate relief once he was done. I love modern medicine! Spencer said once the epidural was in, I was back to acting like myself.
Most of my contractions were felt in my back, and from what I read online (not sure if it's a good or a bad thing how much I read up on labor and delivery during the last few weeks of my pregnancy), this typically meant the baby was posterior, or face-up, when he ideally should be face down. The nurses had me lay on one side for 30 minutes, then they'd turn me to the other side to try and coax the baby to flip.
Then we played a waiting game. Because I'd dilated so much on my own, the nurses didn't give me any pitocin to speed things along (which apparently is a common intervention they have to do for first time moms. As the nurses changed shifts they made sure to boast that bit of news for me).
My doctor was now out of town, so I met the on-call OB who would deliver the baby. (Dr. Twelves, she was the best!!) She checked me, and I was dilated to an 8. She decided to break my water to speed up the final bit of dilation. That was the weirdest feeling in the world. Apparently I had a lot of amniotic fluid, and it just kept coming and coming! I swear my belly felt smaller afterward (it was all in my head, I'm sure). There was some meconium in the water, so they'd have some respiratory specialists in the room for delivery just in case the baby aspirated some of it.
We had more of a wait, but this time was a little more exciting. We had people in and out, preparing the bassinet and doctor's table for delivery. At 8pm I was checked again, and I was fully dilated and effaced and ready to push! Pushing with an epidural was definitely a weird thing because I had no idea if I was doing it right.
After almost an hour of pushing, with different nurses and different positions of pushing, there was barely any progress. During this first hour of pushing, several irregular things started to come up with my labor process. First, the baby's heartbeat was starting to dip during contractions and as I was pushing, so they put me on oxygen and kept a close eye on his heart rate. They shouldn't have pointed this out to me, because from that point on with every contraction, I worried about his heartbeat. Another thing that was concerning the nurses, and therefore stressing me out, was that every time they checked the position of the baby's head, there was blood on their gloves. The nurses were great and didn't actually act concerned, but the fact that they made sure to point it out told me that it wasn't normal. The last thing was something they didn't realize until after I'd pushed for a while--the baby's head was crooked in my pelvis, so he wouldn't fit past the ischial spines unless something changed. They propped up my left side to help his head slide more to the right.
Because of all these complications, but mostly because the baby's heartbeat kept dipping, the nurses decided to let us "rest and descend," where they just let gravity to a bit of work without me pushing. We had a half hour break to just recharge.
When the nurses came back, I was determined to get this baby out (mostly out of fear of a c-section), so I was excited for the chance to push again. After about 15 minutes, the doctor came back in, and I knew we were going to have this baby! Because I was having such a hard time making any progress with this crooked little guy, the doctor mentioned that we might need to use forceps to get him out. I'd heard horror stories about them, but at this point, I knew I had already torn, so there wasn't much more damage the forceps could do. So since the doctor thought it was out best option (which also meant avoiding a c-section), I was okay with it.
I pushed through a couple contractions with the doctor there, but didn't make any progress. The nurses did some final preparations and the doctor got the forceps ready. On the next contraction, the forceps plus one push got the whole baby out! It really startled the doctor who was expecting just his head to come out, but with that one push our sweet baby boy was born at 10:36pm! Just goes to show I was pushing correctly, and dang hard, but this little stubborn boy was stuck pretty good!
Once he was out, Spencer cut his cord, and we got to do skin to skin. I couldn't believe he was here! As soon as they laid him on my chest, I felt something warm leaking down my side. Our boy decided to greet me by peeing all over me! (I'd like to say that was the last time he peed on me, but...). The next few minutes were a complete blur, but I couldn't stop staring at this beautiful boy laying on top of me!
After a half hour or so, they finally weighed him and measured him, and we learned another reason why his delivery was so hard! Our little guy was not so little! 9 pounds 5 ounces, and 21 inches long! He is absolutely perfect, and we couldn't be more in love!
The rest of our time in the hospital wasn't ideal, but we had the best nurses to get us through! I lost enough blood during delivery that my blood pressure dropped significantly. For the first bit, I blacked out every time I sat up, so I didn't even try standing for a while. When I finally did stand, I passed out. They pumped me full of fluids hoping to get my blood pressure up, but after 12 hours with no improvement, they decided to do a blood transfusion. Man, that made me feel just as good as the epidural.
We were pretty sure when we got to the hospital that his first name would be Everett, and his middle name would definitely be Randall because that's Spencer's and his dad's middle name, but it wasn't until we were just about to leave and were filling out the birth certificate paperwork that we actually had a conversation about it!
Luckily, there was no parenting test or exit exam;), so they let us leave with our little man after 48 hours.
We have been loving our time as a family of three! Everett has definitely changed our lives for the better, and we love him so much!
Welcome to the world, Everett Randall Bryson! We are so glad to have you here!
I think this story best begins the day before I actually went into labor.
THE DAY BEFORE: Spencer's brother, Connor, came home from his mission! We spent the afternoon waiting anxiously at the airport, then went out for a celebratory lunch. There was a lot of excitement and good conversation. Spencer had to get back to work though, so we had to cut our time with Connor short. Spencer was looking forward to the chance to hang out with him some more, so when we were invited up to Bountiful to play some pickleball that evening, of course we said yes. (And when I say "we" were invited to play, I really mean Spencer was invited to play, and I was invited to cheer them on. There was no way this already uncoordinated girl was going to attempt to play a new sport at 40 weeks pregnant).
So I spent the evening trying to stay comfortable in 90 degree weather and a camp chair. I kept myself entertained by creating some Boomerangs of everyone playing pickleball. I joked that all the excitement of the day would hopefully make our little boy want some excitement for himself.
After a few games, we decided it was time to get Spencer home since he had to work the next day. When we got home, I was exhausted, and Spencer found a second wind and decided to stay up and play a video game.
Side note: the past few nights he'd stayed up late playing--trying to get in some good game time before the baby came. I'd started to worry about his lack of sleep if I went into labor during the night. I finally voiced this concern to Spencer that night and asked him not to be too crazy with his playing and come to bed at a reasonable hour--just in case. (This is important because I feel like this comment is what sent me into labor...). He laughed it off, kissed me good night, and I fell asleep.
THE DAY OF HIS BIRTH: At 2 a.m. I woke up (to an empty bed) with some pains that were very distinct and different from the discomfort of my frequent Braxton Hicks contractions. I did a quick Google search with a description of my pain, and all the signs told me these were true contractions. I started timing the contractions as I tried to fall back asleep. The pain quickly escalated so the idea of sleeping through them went out the window. So I focused on timing the contractions. They were pretty sporadic at first, which led me to believe I was probably in false labor or very early labor. They ranged from every 7 minutes to every 15. I kept thinking they'd stop any minute, so I stayed in bed for a bit longer before telling Spencer I was having contractions. I really didn't want to say I was in labor and then be wrong. After almost an hour of consistent contractions about every 6 minutes, I went into the office and told Spencer that I thought I was in early labor.
We spent the next two hours timing my contractions and trying to keep me distracted. By 5 o'clock, my contractions were 5 minutes apart, so I decided we should get ready to go (at our own pace) because things were looking pretty serious. By the time we were ready to go it was 6:30 and my contractions were every 3.5 minutes and quite painful. We made it to the hospital and got put in a triage room to see if I was actually in labor (meaning my dilation/effacement changed over the course of an hour).
During this time, Spencer tried to distract me and talk through my contractions, but they were just too painful. All I could do was breathe through them. What I needed the most was a distraction during the time between contractions, because all I could think about was the pain that was coming in a minute and a half. The nurse came in and out to check my blood pressure, but she mostly monitored my contractions from a computer at the nurses' station. At the end of the hour, she checked me again, and there was no change. My doctor happened to be at the hospital with a scheduled c-section, so she was going to talk to him when he was done to see what he wanted to do.
It took almost another hour to hear anything from my doctor, and this hour was the hardest. I was in so much pain and on top of that I was stressed that we were going to be sent home and I would have to deal with this pain for who knows how much longer. The nurse finally came back, and not-so-kindly delivered word from my doctor that I was, in fact, being sent home. He expected I'd be back later that night or the next day. I was defeated and so, so sad! I was worried all morning that I wasn't really in labor, and here I was at the hospital and the nurse was telling me I wasn't in labor. The most frustrating thing was that I had all the signs of labor that they tell you to go to the hospital for--contractions that were less than 4 minutes (that was my doctor's interval) lasting for an hour or more, that you couldn't talk through. So I asked the nurse how I was supposed to know when I should come back. She said when they were increasing in frequency or pain (...uhhh we're already there, hun). Obviously, I was a little too good at dealing with the pain because I was already at my maximum for pain and couldn't imagine it getting worse. (In hindsight, I should've had her check my dilation again, because I'm certain I'd progressed in that extra hour we waited).
I was offered a shot of morphine and percocet, and since they weren't expecting me to deliver anytime soon, they said it would wear off for me and the baby before he was born. I was desperately in need of something to help with the pain, so I accepted the chance for the shot. I felt the morphine before we even left the parking lot, but unfortunately the only effect I felt was drowsiness--no relief from the pain. We made it home and decided to try and nap. I probably slept for a half hour, then the pain of the contractions woke me up again. Even with all these reasons I should be asleep (side effect of the drugs and lack of sleep the night before), the pain of the contractions kept me awake.
We had lunch, meaning I nibbled at a sandwich, and put on an episode of American Ninja Warrior to try and distract me. It didn't work. I tried walking around the room. Spencer tried massaging my back. I tried breathing through it. Nothing helped, but I was terrified of going back to the hospital and being sent back home. Spencer kept telling me we should go, but I, being the stubborn girl that I am, kept putting it off, saying I was fine to wait it out a bit more at home.
By 2:30pm, my body was exhausted and sore from 12 hours of labor, and I just couldn't take it anymore. I told Spencer we needed to go to the hospital, and he happily obliged.
We got there, and the same nurse that sent us home was there. I was spitefully happy to see her there to prove to her that I was in fact in labor that morning when I was sent home. We signed in and got put back in the same triage room. A nurse came in and checked me, and I was at a 6 with a bulging bag of water. I WAS STAYING! I'd dilated almost 4 cm in 5 hours, and I tell you, I felt every centimeter (not really, but the pain was definitely there). The nurse was shocked that I made it that far without coming into the hospital! I explained that we'd already been in and sent home, and she was impressed that I progressed that far on my own.
We got moved into a delivery room, and they got me set up with an IV. As soon as the IV was in they could call for the anesthesiologist to come and administer the epidural. The wait for him to get there was so HARD! Knowing that relief was on the way, but not knowing exactly how long I had to wait was killer. I didn't end up waiting too long; he was there within 15 minutes of my IV being finished. I almost cried when he walked in the door. I've never been more excited for a needle in my life. I didn't feel any pain from the placement of the epidural, and I felt immediate relief once he was done. I love modern medicine! Spencer said once the epidural was in, I was back to acting like myself.
Most of my contractions were felt in my back, and from what I read online (not sure if it's a good or a bad thing how much I read up on labor and delivery during the last few weeks of my pregnancy), this typically meant the baby was posterior, or face-up, when he ideally should be face down. The nurses had me lay on one side for 30 minutes, then they'd turn me to the other side to try and coax the baby to flip.
 |
| so excited for my jello diet |
Then we played a waiting game. Because I'd dilated so much on my own, the nurses didn't give me any pitocin to speed things along (which apparently is a common intervention they have to do for first time moms. As the nurses changed shifts they made sure to boast that bit of news for me).
My doctor was now out of town, so I met the on-call OB who would deliver the baby. (Dr. Twelves, she was the best!!) She checked me, and I was dilated to an 8. She decided to break my water to speed up the final bit of dilation. That was the weirdest feeling in the world. Apparently I had a lot of amniotic fluid, and it just kept coming and coming! I swear my belly felt smaller afterward (it was all in my head, I'm sure). There was some meconium in the water, so they'd have some respiratory specialists in the room for delivery just in case the baby aspirated some of it.
We had more of a wait, but this time was a little more exciting. We had people in and out, preparing the bassinet and doctor's table for delivery. At 8pm I was checked again, and I was fully dilated and effaced and ready to push! Pushing with an epidural was definitely a weird thing because I had no idea if I was doing it right.After almost an hour of pushing, with different nurses and different positions of pushing, there was barely any progress. During this first hour of pushing, several irregular things started to come up with my labor process. First, the baby's heartbeat was starting to dip during contractions and as I was pushing, so they put me on oxygen and kept a close eye on his heart rate. They shouldn't have pointed this out to me, because from that point on with every contraction, I worried about his heartbeat. Another thing that was concerning the nurses, and therefore stressing me out, was that every time they checked the position of the baby's head, there was blood on their gloves. The nurses were great and didn't actually act concerned, but the fact that they made sure to point it out told me that it wasn't normal. The last thing was something they didn't realize until after I'd pushed for a while--the baby's head was crooked in my pelvis, so he wouldn't fit past the ischial spines unless something changed. They propped up my left side to help his head slide more to the right.
Because of all these complications, but mostly because the baby's heartbeat kept dipping, the nurses decided to let us "rest and descend," where they just let gravity to a bit of work without me pushing. We had a half hour break to just recharge.
When the nurses came back, I was determined to get this baby out (mostly out of fear of a c-section), so I was excited for the chance to push again. After about 15 minutes, the doctor came back in, and I knew we were going to have this baby! Because I was having such a hard time making any progress with this crooked little guy, the doctor mentioned that we might need to use forceps to get him out. I'd heard horror stories about them, but at this point, I knew I had already torn, so there wasn't much more damage the forceps could do. So since the doctor thought it was out best option (which also meant avoiding a c-section), I was okay with it.
I pushed through a couple contractions with the doctor there, but didn't make any progress. The nurses did some final preparations and the doctor got the forceps ready. On the next contraction, the forceps plus one push got the whole baby out! It really startled the doctor who was expecting just his head to come out, but with that one push our sweet baby boy was born at 10:36pm! Just goes to show I was pushing correctly, and dang hard, but this little stubborn boy was stuck pretty good!
Once he was out, Spencer cut his cord, and we got to do skin to skin. I couldn't believe he was here! As soon as they laid him on my chest, I felt something warm leaking down my side. Our boy decided to greet me by peeing all over me! (I'd like to say that was the last time he peed on me, but...). The next few minutes were a complete blur, but I couldn't stop staring at this beautiful boy laying on top of me!After a half hour or so, they finally weighed him and measured him, and we learned another reason why his delivery was so hard! Our little guy was not so little! 9 pounds 5 ounces, and 21 inches long! He is absolutely perfect, and we couldn't be more in love!
We were pretty sure when we got to the hospital that his first name would be Everett, and his middle name would definitely be Randall because that's Spencer's and his dad's middle name, but it wasn't until we were just about to leave and were filling out the birth certificate paperwork that we actually had a conversation about it!
Luckily, there was no parenting test or exit exam;), so they let us leave with our little man after 48 hours.
We have been loving our time as a family of three! Everett has definitely changed our lives for the better, and we love him so much!
Welcome to the world, Everett Randall Bryson! We are so glad to have you here!
Wednesday, September 28, 2016
One Very Late Pregnancy (and Life) Update
I am quite, quite late in posting this, seeing as we already have the little guy here, but....
WE'RE HAVING A BABY!
Due this past July!
(don't worry, he came two months ago, too)
Seeing as I was already terrible at updating the blog, add in going back to work with the added load of being the team leader, and add in a pregnancy--I had no motivation to update this bad boy for way too long (sorry about it!). So for your viewing/reading pleasure (but mostly for my record), here is an after-the-fact update of my pregnancy.
FIRST TRIMESTER:
Highlights:
- finding out I was pregnant! and sharing the news with our families:
Me and Spencer:
I woke up early one morning and very hesitantly took a pregnancy test. I always heard that there was a terrible two minute wait where women would sit bored in the bathroom waiting for the result. Well, my test was positive right away and I almost screamed out in joy. I didn't because I wanted to surprise Spencer. I'd planned on telling him with a copy of "Your Baby's First Word Will Be DADA," (we love Jimmy Fallon) but in my superstition, I wouldn't buy it until I was pregnant. But I also couldn't wait to tell Spencer. Which meant sneaking out of the house at 8 in the morning to buy the book. I actually didn't end up sneaking out, but I made some excuse as to why I had to go to the store, by myself, that early. Not sure what the excuse was, but I remember Spencer barely bought it. I had to go to two stores to find it, then I was on my jittery way home! When I got home, Spencer was sitting in the office playing a game. I walked in, showed him the book, and he said something to the effect of, "Oh, great! We need that book!" I had to explicitly tell him that I was pregnant. My bad for not being obvious enough.
Spencer's Parents:
We didn't intend on telling anyone until after my first doctor's appointment, but when Spencer's car died later that week, and we made a trip to Bountiful to borrow a car from his parents, we couldn't resist the chance to tell them. I am terrible with secrets, and it was nice to tell someone.
My Parents:
We went out to North Carolina for Thanksgiving to visit my grandparents and meet up with my parents and sister. In keeping with the book theme, I bought two books by Mercer Mayer: Grandpa and Me, and Grandma and Me. I snuck my parents into a back room and showed them the books to surprise them with the news.
- Spencer totaled his car. In that the battery died and it would have cost more to replace the battery than the car was worth.
- We bought a new car. Not a mom car yet, but we needed a good commuter car for Spencer, so we got a 2013 Cruze! We love it.
- We watched So You Think You Can Dance over the summer and went to the concert for my birthday in December!
- We had two ultrasounds in the first trimester. It was so fun to see our little baby!
Symptoms:
Overall, my first trimester was pretty alright. I had a bit of morning sickness, but it was mostly just an all day nausea. I never really got sick, which was lucky because I don't know how I would've hidden my pregnancy at school if I was rushing out of my classroom to throw up every five minutes. But it was hard for me to eat because nothing sounded good. I didn't have any extreme cravings, though I ate the same dinner for almost a week straight--a salad with butter lettuce, lemon, pepper, and bacon bits. My main food aversion was water. Luckily, that went away after the first trimester.
Other News:
I managed to stay in my pre-pregnancy clothes throughout this time, mostly because it was winter, which meant layers that could easily hide a bump (and the elastic keeping my pants closed xD).
The first trimester seemed to go the slowest, mostly because I was counting down the days until we would tell people. Then once we were into the safe window, things kept coming up and we didn't put together our announcement until I was 15 weeks along.
SECOND TRIMESTER:
Highlights:
- Finding out we were having a boy!
- Telling people I was pregnant!!
- Feeling the baby kick at 17 weeks! At first I wasn't sure if I was feeling the baby, or just imagining it, but after a few weeks of that little movement getting stronger and more frequent, I was sure it was the baby! He was a strong kicker from the start, so Spencer could feel him pretty soon after I did.
- Getting to see our cute boy in one last ultrasound.
- A visit from my mom and Oma.
- Painting the nursery, buying most of the furniture, and rearranging the room ten times. And that's not an exaggeration.
Symptoms:
 |
| 18 weeks |
Other news:
At 18 weeks, I decided to finally bite the bullet and buy maternity clothes. At first it was fun to buy a few clothes and imagine my growing belly in them. By 23 weeks when I did a major shopping trip with my mom, I had a really hard time buying clothes. I didn't like how anything fit me. Nothing had good style (at a decent price). And I couldn't justify spending a lot of money on something that would last me just a few more months. And pregnancy hormones make everything harder. Eventually I found a few things that made me feel good (but now that I'm not pregnant, I definitely do not miss those clothes...).
Our Christmas present to ourselves was a new kitchen (which deserves a post of its own), so various elements of that happened throughout this time, including refinishing the cabinets and a new countertop, sink, faucet, backsplash, dishwasher, lighting, and floor...
The floor was actually paid for by our insurance...
Our basement flooded throughout the month of January (we realized it toward the end of the month :O ) from a leak in our new dishwasher. After some calls with our insurance and a claims estimate, we ended up with more money to fix the problem than it would take to actually make the repairs since Spencer was planning on doing a lot of the work himself. We had to replace the ceiling and carpet in the basement, and the floor in the kitchen was warped from the water damage as well so it needed to be replaced too. Which meant our new wood floors would be covered by the insurance money! With the updated kitchen and new floors throughout our main level, it's like a whole new house!
THIRD TRIMESTER
Highlights:
- Getting so close to meeting our boy!
- The end of the school year!
- So many baby showers! I had one at work, one put on by my sweet beehive class at church, and one with my friends and family! We definitely got spoiled.
- A visit from my parents in June
- Finishing the kitchen remodel (mostly the finish work like baseboards and door casings)
Symptoms:
I had pretty much every pregnancy symptom come the last months of my pregnancy. Well, not really. But it felt like it. I couldn't sleep because I couldn't get comfortable. I had heartburn. I had to pee. all. the. time. I had swollen feet (by the last week, only one pair of shoes fit!). My back ached. My body felt foreign. I had a baby kicking my ribs. I had Braxton Hicks contractions (those actually started at 24 weeks, but they were much more consistent in the third trimester). Oh and it was the middle of summer and I was always hot for the first time in my life.
 26 weeks | ||||
|
 36 weeks  |
| 38 weeks |
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)