Wednesday, November 14, 2012

Failure To Thrive:: Another Update

We are now over 5 months into our journey of having a child who was diagnosed as Failure To Thrive (for those of you who don't know, Failure to Thrive simply means that they are not thriving at the level that they should be, according to the averages, charts, etc.).

5 months of pushing Pediasure, trying our hardest to make him eat, going to doctors appointments, and spending time worrying.

So far, nothing has helped.

In July we took him to Sioux Falls to see a Pediatric Gastrointestinal doctor. While we were there, the doctor called in his colleague, who was a Pediatric Cardiologist to consult. Which meant that Drew was put through hours of tests. He had his blood drawn (during that procedure, both he and I were sobbing, and he got so mad that he blew out his vein, so they weren't able to get all the blood they needed. I refused to let them poke him again). He had an EKG and an echo-cardiogram (thank goodness for Baby Einstein Old McDonald, as he loved seeing the animals so he was distracted enough not to cry/move around/fight them during the whole procedure). He had an upper GI test (thank goodness for Grandmas as I wasn't allowed to be with him because it was an x-ray and I was pregnant. but, he still fought them, and it took at least 4 nurses to hold him down).

He was so mad, that he cried the whole way out of the clinic, and only calmed down once I stripped him and let him play in the water fountain:

At the end of the day, the only answer we got was that he had a mild case of acid reflux. Well then. That was a lot of drama for not a lot of news.

However, I will say that I was grateful that his heart tests all came back normal. In fact, the cardiologist told us he never wanted to see us again. Done and done.

The GI did choose to put him on a low dose of Prilosec to see if that helped (it hasn't). Besides that, they were pretty much flummoxed.

So, we go along with our life. Trying to get him to eat (he doesn't). Feeding him Pediasure. Enjoying him. 

Today we take him to see the Pediatric Endocrinologist. Maybe he will have the answer?

I'm not holding my breath.

Monday, September 10, 2012

Book Review:: The Baker's Wife

If what doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger, why is Audrey growing weaker by the day?
When her husband Geoff, a pastor, lost his job after a scandal rocked their congregation, Audrey's never lost faith.
They decide to resurrect a failing bakery as a way to heal family wounds and restore their place in the community.
Running late to the bakery one foggy morning, Audrey strikes a vehicle. Emerging from her car into the fog, she discovers she hit a motor scooter. But there’s no rider in sight. Just blood.
The absence of the driver is a mystery, especially to Sergeant Jack Mansfield, the detective and church member responsible for firing Geoff from his pulpit. The scooter belongs to Jack’s wife, Julie, a teacher at the local high school, who has vanished…like morning fog.
Though there is no evidence to support Jack’s growing suspicion that Audrey and Geoff were involved in Julie’s disappearance, the detective is convinced of their guilt. When he takes the tiny bakery and its patron’s hostage, Audrey must unravel the secret of Julie’s disappearance and her own mysterious suffering before Jack hits his breaking point.
This book is one of mystery, intrigue and catching your breath because you're not really sure what's going to happen next. It's watching layers of people all fold together, and getting mad at the bad guy, because he is being such a good bad guy!
This story kept my interest, and I enjoyed both times that I read it.
I also appreciated Healy delving into circumstances that might not always get attention in the mainstream church - namely, can God use physical manifestations of pain to help us reach out to people who are the ones experiencing the 'true' pain? It's an interesting concept, and a thought worth delving into.
It is my belief and experience that God can't be put in a box. I think he uses people, circumstances, dreams, and sometimes pain to bring truth into our lives. 
The experiences that Audrey go through is unique, and something I really appreciated about the book. I also appreciated the side story of Diane, and the mystery that shrouded her sad self. 
Also, Jack was a fascinating character. His conviction that his way was THE way was admirable, if completely off base. He did a lot of harm through his belief system, and it was hard to sympathize with him. But, when we step back and look at him, are we really so different? Don't we at times railroad over people in the name of our Truth? (don't get me wrong - I'm not saying there isn't Truth. I just think sometimes we major on the minors and minor on the majors. and sometimes there are casualties we leave behind). 
Overall, I would rate this book a 3.5. Definitely one I will read again, but not one that I love to pieces and will rave about forever. 

*Disclaimer: I received this book in exchange for my honest review from BookSneeze*

Book Review:: Break-Through:When To Give In, How To Push Back

Break-Through: When To Give In, How To Push Back. The Moment That Changes Everything 
by Dr. Tim Clinton and Pat Springle

"Well, I guess he does have a good side."... "You know, it's probably my own fault." ... "I need to cut him some slack, because he's had a rough life." It's easy to get stuck in painful, even destructive relationships - caving in to a spouse's addictions and consequent abuses, ignoring a live-at-home son's inconsiderate behavior, or putting up with a supervisor's manipulation or even harassment. We excuse them again and again, and then kick ourselves for not setting respectful boundaries. Break-Through has a self-test to help readers get back in control and is filled with useful tools to help them make big changes in their life. This important book will show readers when to give in, but also when to push back for a happier, more stable life.

I have to admit that over all I am a fiction/memoir girl. But, there are times that my psychology nerd side comes to the forefront, and I want to pick up something with a little meat to it.

Well, this book definitely had meat. So much meat in fact, that it took me several months to get through it. I simply couldn't sit down and finish it all at once. But, I think overall, that is a good thing. After all, it means that I had a lot to think about.

And having something to think about while reading a book? I would say that's a good sign.

Clinton and Springle do an excellent job of probing into different reasons people stay in difficult relationships. While the book's topic is more about co-dependency than I was expecting, there was some excellent advice for dealing with people types we all encounter, even if it isn't in an intimate relationship. We all know people who tend to be a little more enmeshed than is healthy, or who push themselves forward so that they are dominating the conversation/relationship/situation to cover up their insecurity. This book delves into the reasons behind their actions, and gives some practical tips for dealing with the frustrations.

Not only that, but every once in awhile the authors would pull out these zingers that made me break out the highlighter and turn down the page corner. That's a good sign friends!

For example:

"We wear very different clothes, drive cars, hold jobs, and have children of our own, but emotionally, we're like the scared kid in the hall who is unsure that anyone will be his friend" (pg 74). {that is truth!}

"God sets us free, but not adrift into confusion and isolation. He frees us from the prison of sin and shame so that we can genuinely know him, delight in him, and find more meaning than we ever imagined. When we begin to grasp this truth, it thrills our heart. This new affection begins to crowd out the fear and arrogance that has dominated us for so long" (pg 103)

Perhaps you, or someone you love, is dealing with a situation involving co-dependency. Perhaps you just would like more information about living in this world with difficult people. Or perhaps you're a bit of a psychology nerd like me (and my mom. apple doesn't fall far from the tree people!). If any of those are you, I would definitely recommend this book! It's not the end-all, be-all, but then again, what book is? It will give you stuff to think about, topics to delve into further, and really, what more can you ask of a book?

*Disclaimer: I received this book in exchange for my honest review from Handlebar Marketing. All opinions contained within are mine, and mine alone.*

Failure To Thrive :: An Update

(I wrote this back in July, but thought I'd still post it to give a complete overview of his story. Look for more updated information soon!)

Well, it has been over a month since we have gotten the 'official' diagnosis on the Drewster. He has been weighed twice, drank more than his weight in milk and Pediasure and is officially weaned.


He has gained a full pound. Which is great!

However, he did all of his gaining in the first 18 days.

Our original appointment where we got the diagnosis was on the 31st of May. We then took him back to see the doctor on the 18th of June, where he went from 16 lbs 14 oz to 17 lbs 13 oz.

Cue ecstatic cheering.

He was drinking whole milk like a champ (especially since he gets to have chocolate milk, the lucky duck. hey, it's all about the calories right??), and downing Chocolate Shake Pediasure like it was going out of style (once again, it's all about the calories!).

The whole food thing wasn't really exciting him all that much, but he was eating a fair amount.

Then, he just kinda quit eating. When I say my kid doesn't eat a lot, I don't mean he eats a container of yogurt and then quits. I mean he eats 1 tsp of yogurt and then quits. I don't mean he eats a serving of spaghetti and then quits, I mean he eats about 2 TB worth and then quits (and spaghetti is one of his all-time favorites!).

Cue frustrated mommy sighs.

It's hard. When I took him in to get weighed on July 5, he was up an ounce. One measly ounce. This was on a different scale, so it's hard to say really how much he has taken in, but still. ONE OUNCE.

We give him food all day long. He gets more treats than I am comfortable with, simply because if we can get him to take anything in we consider it a win. There are time he doesn't eat a single thing except maybe 1 piece of shredded cheese. I would love to just feed him his favorites so he would eat, but I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT THOSE ARE.

Except cheese. He loves cheese. So he gets it a lot. But you know what cheese does? Binds a person up, if you know what I mean. And since starting on this journey, our poor little one has gone through some serious bouts of constipation. As in screaming, writhing, sweating and crying his way through the process and then being completely wiped afterwards. It is pitiful.

Granted, he has also gone through 2 extended episodes of the opposite issue, but that I blame on teething.

Anyways, here we are. Still documenting his every ounce (when I can muster the strength. some days its just too much ya know? but I figure any days I do it is better than nothing. the doctors can be as upset as they want, but I think they'll get a pretty good idea from what I do write down). Still shoving whole milk and Pediasure down his throat (except the past couple of days because he had some projectile vomiting issues. in a camper that is covered solely in carpet and fabric. let's just say it's not ideal). Still trying to tempt him with the nummy, nummy food.

On the 25th we go to see a Pediatric Gastrointestinal doctor in Sioux Falls. He was originally meant to see a Pediatric Endocrinologist, but they passed us on to the GI. Hopefully we will get some answers. If not? Well, I guess we'll just do what we do and love on our little boy. Because he is very lovable!

Saturday, June 16, 2012

The TinMan

Ya'll have seen The Wizard of Oz right?

(if you haven't, ummm, well, I'm going to say for the sake of living in America, you probably should, because hello, it's a classic. if you really don't want to watch the movie, then read the book! or the book series! both are fun)

I was talking with Luke today (and to be honest, crying a little, because, hello, hormonal woman!) and trying to explain to him how I felt about being in social interactions lately (spoiler alert: not very good). As I was talking about how I felt as if someone physically takes my mouth and keeps it shut, no matter how much I want it to open and words to come out, the idea of the TinMan came to me.

When Dorothy sets out on her adventure to the Emerald City, she encounters her 3 traveling companions along the way. First is the scarecrow, then is the TinMan. The TinMan has been stuck in the forest for years because he was out working when it started to rain and all of his joints rusted shut.

Including his mouth.

And that's where I come in.

I spend a lot of time alone. Mostly by choice, partly by circumstance. We have 2 homes, and have very sporadic schedules as to when we are going to be in each place, so it's hard to develop any kind of social schedule. Especially when you're an extreme introvert like me.

Plus, both places are new to me and so I am starting from scratch to develop relationships. And developing relationships takes time. And effort. And I have a baby who needs a somewhat consistent schedule and I am tired (cue: excuse symphony).

But as a result of all my aloneness (with the exception of the babe and husband of course), my words have dried up. According to a book called The Female Brain, women supposedly say 20,000 words a day (and men only 7000).

Ha. Ha, ha and ha!

20,000??? Sometimes I'm not even sure I say 1000.

Once again, mostly by choice. There are times where I construct flimsy excuses as to why I can't go to this or that or get together with this or that person. Or I just plain old chicken out of texting someone to go to the park, when I know that the worst they can do is say no.

And I am not a mother who spends a lot of time talking to Drew (don't get me wrong. I talk to my child. I just don't explain everything I am doing all day, every day, like some parenting sites tell you to do).

And with Luke's job, it's easier to talk to him via text rather than calling just because I never know if he is loading, unloading, or driving. We do try to talk at least once while he's on shift, but we mostly text.

Add in one short call to my mom on a typical day, and you get my lack of words.

And my rusted together mouth.

Because, as with all muscles, lack of use causes atrophy. And my mouth has atrophied. Not only is it physically tiring for me to talk a lot (seriously. sit me down with one of my besties, and I will talk. and walk away with a very, very tired and sore mouth/jaw), but it's emotionally exhausting to even think about talking. I see a nice looking mom at the park with a kid who's close to Drew's age and I do almost everything I can to avoid her. Oh, I try not to be a total snot. I do say hi, smile, etc, but I don't walk right up to her and strike up a conversation.

So the moral of the story?

I need to oil my mouth.

Except not literally. Because that's gross.

But in a figurative way.

I need to do something, because I am the dreaded 'l' word (lonely, for those of you wondering). But it's hard. And not as easy as just keeping my comfy pants on and staying home. But if I don't do it, who will?

Thursday, June 14, 2012

Failure To Thrive

Drew has always been a wee little guy. When he was born he was a mere 6 lb 5 oz. Sure, that's not exactly the smallest baby that has been born, but considering I was over 9 lbs when I was born, I was a bit surprised. In fact, I had to go buy smaller sleepers for him because the ones I had were way too big. He sure was cute in his little preemie pajamas though!

(our little grumpus on his birth day. ooo so tiny!)

As he continued to grow he never shot up. He always hovered at the 25th or less percentile for height/weight (40th for head ... but what can I say? he's a smart kid!). And then his percentiles started to drop. He went from the 25th to the 10th. And then from the 10th he disappeared right off the charts. 

(still just a wee little thing. drowning in his 0-3 month shorts)

As any good doctor would, our doctor started to get nervous. After all, they have these Bell Curves for a reason. And when someone isn't on a Bell Curve, they don't really know how to react to that. So we started to look more into what was going on. 

He considered the possibility that perhaps Drew's heart murmur was connected. However, after monitoring it pretty closely for a month, it became clear that it was fading, and that possibility was taken off the table. 

We were stumped. But, we just kept soldiering on. After all, our baby was happy and healthy (with the exception of weight). He was meeting all his developmental milestones. His little legs were quite chunky and he still hasn't grown wrists. Plus, he constantly moves, so we kinda figured he was just burning it all off. So, we were okay with his size. After all, his daddy was never huge, nor were his aunt and uncles on that side.

But, our doctor continued to be worried. I had to call in or stop in every month to get him weighed. And that number wasn't going up. Maybe an ounce or two a month, but that was it. So, we were given an order for a blood panel. We didn't rush right out to do it, but we knew our doctor would insist at his 12 month check-up if we hadn't done it, so we went ahead and did it ahead of time so he would have the results.

And? Nothing. There might have been a number or two that was a little higher or lower than it should have been, but nothing unreasonable or even noteworthy. 

All this leads up to last week. Our wee little guy went from being a tiny little wee to a bit bigger of a wee. 

(celebrating being one with Minnesota family and friends!)

And it was time for his 12 month well child check. We trotted in to get his weight, and I was feeling good. He felt heavier, he really had taken off on the whole eating real food thing, and he was obviously doing ok. So I stripped him down and plunked him on the scale with a bit of mommy pride. After all, I had done it. I had kept my little boy on the right track. I was certain he was up at least a pound from the last time.

Sadly my optimism was a bit too optimistic. 

He wasn't up a pound. In fact, he was down from the last time he had been weighed. However, in all fairness that was on a different scale and involved him wearing a onesie and a diaper. But, after I told our nurse that, she had me put him in a onesie and a diaper just for comparison sake. He was still down. The only argument I had on my side was that he was on a different scale. And since I was quibbling over mere ounces, somehow I don't think I really had a leg to stand on.

So, here we are with a little guy who is quite insistent on staying little. Not only did he stop gaining weight, but he stopped growing length wise. He dropped from 10th percentile to 5th percentile in height. And he still isn't touching the chart with his weight. 

All of that leads to a diagnosis: failure to thrive.

Well, ouch. That just shot mommy right through the heart. After all, I am the one feeding him and caring for him. He gets a majority of his sustenance from my very own body. And I didn't get the job done. 

Our doctor is worried, but supportive. Right now we are tracking everything he eats, including breastmilk, which means we may be working our way to weaning since I have to pump and my supply is way down, which makes pumping hardly worth it.

Since he is now one, his food possibilities are practically endless. And we are taking advantage of that! So far he is a fan of peanut butter. We are a fan of all its calories! 

We go back in on the 18th for a weight check and will assess then, but our doctor is currently working with a pediatric endocrinologist in the big city so most likely we will end up in that doctor's office within the next month or two. They are currently reviewing his files and will be getting in touch with us soon.

And if he doesn't have the answers? Then I really have no clue. We'll just keep trucking on. And enjoying our little boy, who may be little but sure has a BIG personality!

Saturday, May 5, 2012

What's In a Blog?

Or a blog title as it were.

Those who pay attention may have noticed that I have changed the name of my blog, yet again. And to be honest, I am not sure that I am totally stuck on this one either. That's the freedom that comes from having an eponymous URL. Or the downside perhaps, as it lets the indecisive in me rule a bit too much.

Also, those of you who pay attention may have noticed that I have been in a bit of a writing pause for quite awhile. Is it weird to blame this space? I write stellar blog posts in my mind, but when it comes to actually writing them down, I have no motivation. No desire. I hate to blame it on a lame excuse, because if I were a true writer it wouldn't matter where I wrote it, but I don't like the look of my blog right now and so I don't want to share my words in such a space.

Lame? Yes, perhaps. Shallow? Yes, perhaps. The way my mind works? Yes, definitely.

Not only do I bemoan the lack of pretties on the page, I also really struggle with being yet another one of the multitude. Everywhere I turn there is yet another blog, doing it awesomely. These people are writing stories that are mildly interesting and are getting hundreds of hits and comments. I don't.

My fault? Yes, perhaps.

Not that I necessarily want the responsibility that comes along with having hundreds of hits and comments. People can be mean, especially if they know they are protected by a computer screen.

However, I want to be heard. I have a voice and I want to keep it from getting too rusty. So I shall press on to write just to write. Enjoying the tapping of the keyboard, the pouring of the words and the emptying of the brain. After all, I am somebody am I not? I read my own writing, and that, for now, shall be good enough.

Monday, January 23, 2012

Life :: An Update

I feel like all my posts lately have had a theme to them. And that theme would be the story of how our little peanut came into this world. Which is all good and all if you’re into reading birth stories, but if you come to blogs and want to know more about the person than just the fact that she birthed a baby, then hey, maybe you would like an update on life.
(Drew’s 1st deer hunt – Thanksgiving Day)
So here goes.

I’m currently sitting in my SD kitchen, which is probably 10 times bigger than my ND kitchen, which really, doesn’t take much. Baby is napping, and I’m listening to the radio while reading blogs.

And that’s a pretty typical day.

(Thanksgiving Day Deer Hunt)
The dishes are piled up in the sink and on the counter.

Also a pretty typical day.

(bonfire by the Missouri River – 11/25)
Anyways, for those of you whose heads are spinning, trying to figure out if we live in SD or ND or WHAT THE HECK IS GOING ON WITH OUR LIVES, let me help you figure it out:

We live in both states. One state permanently (as in, that’s where our stuff is, where our driver’s license and bank thinks we live, etc) and the other one we live in because that’s where the work is.

(Drew showing us his mad Big Buck Hunter skills)

However, when it got to be getting on to winter and all we had for a place to live was a camper with a garden hose running over a driveway for water and nowhere to dump the grey water, we figured it probably wouldn’t be the best situation for winter. Especially with a baby.

So, we headed back south and let my brother use our camper for the winter. Of course, less than a week after we left, a full hook up spot opened up. So goes life. But my brother was able to put the camper in the spot and he’s spent the winter making it all cozy.

(Christmas Eve)
We have really enjoyed being back in SD for awhile. It’s been nice to be in a place that not only has its own bathroom/shower, but SEPARATE ROOMS! Oh the beauty. It’s also been really nice to be back by family, especially around the holidays.

(Drew and Mommy playing with his Christmas present from Mommy and Daddy. Forgive the creepy red eyes. It’s a curse.)
Luke has been staying busy helping his parents out on the farm and with some remodeling projects (we live about 5 mins from their dairy farm). Drew and I have been staying busy playing with toys, snuggling and staying warm.

(Drew taking his afternoon nap by the River on Christmas Day)

Soon enough we will go back up North and Luke will start driving truck again (for those of you who wonder what he does … he drives a semi truck that carries a trailer full of dirty water that is pulled up from oil wells that needs to be dumped down another old well. as my brother expands, he will probably start driving an oil trailer, which mean he will be carrying a trailer loaded with the actual oil from the wells). And Drew and I will play, snuggle and stay warm. It’s what we do.

(celebrating our 2nd anniversary – 1/2)
And in a nutshell, that’s what new with us!

Wednesday, January 4, 2012

Drew Solon :: What’s In A Name

You know what’s hard? Choosing a name for a person. One that is theirs for the REST OF THEIR LIFE!

Luke and I spent the whole pregnancy trying to come up with a name for our baby. We discussed it a little bit in the beginning, and then amped up the talks once we knew we were having a boy. And could not find a name we agreed on.

I would say one, he would say no. He would say one, I would say no. We read a whole book full of thousands and thousands of names. We noticed them in movies, in books, in talking with people. We would find one that we were interested in and then remember that our friends had a baby named that (our rule was that if we were related, or they were in our wedding, the name was out). We went into the hospital and still had no name.

The one thing we agreed on was that we wanted his name to have meaning. While driving one day we talked about what traits we hoped and prayed for in our first-born and came up with some ideas. So, we started looking at names with those meanings, but struck out again as none of those struck us.

So, after he was born, Luke went to the computer and started looking up names again. We had come across the name Solon on a list, and loved the meaning: wisdom or wise one. For a while we debated having Solon as his first name, but both of us felt like it just fit better as a middle name.

That just left the most important name then, his first name. We had talked about Andrew before, but I wasn’t crazy about it. But then we started talking about shortening it to Drew. And it started to grow on me. We also loved it’s meaning: bold and courageous (at least on the site we used. it can also mean man or warrior or trusty. also great meanings!).

By this point, it was Sunday afternoon (and Drew was born Saturday at noon). In other words, people were chomping at the bit to get us to name this child. It was the number one question of the nurses and the doctors, plus family and friends. But, we wanted to make sure Drew Solon was the right choice, so we tried it out for a day, without telling anyone what it was.

And it fit him perfectly. So, finally, on Monday morning, shortly before 9:00, we signed the papers. It was official. No going back!

And as the lady walked them out of the room, we could hear all the nurses gathering around her, excitedly asking what we had finally decided on as a name.


Monday, January 2, 2012

Drew Solon :: A Birth Story {Part 3}

So the last time I left you, I was 24 hours into the induction/labor process. And my body was basically saying ‘na na na, can’t make me!’.

And she was right. We couldn’t make her.

My doctor decided to try one more round of Cervadil and see what happened. But because we were going into the 2nd night of ‘fun’, they wanted me to get some sleep so they gave me an Ambien. Which meant I spent that night in a cycle of dozing off, waking up with a contraction and squeezing Luke’s hand, and then dozing off again.

Poor Luke. He didn’t have the benefit of an Ambien so he had to deal with his wife squeezing his hand REALLY hard every 2 minutes, so he didn’t get very much sleep that night.

We also had nurses coming in and out of our room all night checking on the babe. I didn’t mind that they were concerned and monitoring us, but it bothered me that no one introduced themselves, except my 2 main nurses. So here I am, having some unknown person looking up a place where no unknown person should ever look.

They finally called my doctor in at around 5:00 because they were concerned about Drew’s heart rate. He felt I was far enough along in the process to break my water, so he took his little crochet hook and did so. It didn’t hurt as much as I thought it would, but it was still a weird feeling.

It didn’t do anything magical, but there was definitely no turning back after that!

They did decide that I should get up and walk to see if that would help, so they sent Luke and I on a round through the hallways. It was so (NOT) fun.


Luckily there was the rails for me to lean on when I hit a contraction. But it was really annoying because when my nurse put TED compression hose on me the night before she didn’t pull them all the way up, so as you can tell from the picture I had a bunch of hose hanging off the end of my feet and it felt funny when I walked.

I did not make it very long with this whole walking thing. All I wanted to do was get back in bed. So I did.


After a couple hours of letting my body try, they hooked me up to Pitocin. That sent me into terrible back labor. It was awful. I was exhausted because I hadn’t slept in 2 days (well, really 6 months because of being preggo, but officially 2 nights), I was still a little out of it because of the Ambien and IT HURT! We had decided not to go for an epidural if at all possible, but I needed something so I asked my nurse for some pain medicine. Not sure if she just put saline in my IV or what but WHAT A JOKE. It did absolutely nothing.

So we tried the Pitocin for a couple of hours. At least I think it was a couple of hours. I really don’t know. I just remember laying there thinking this was the most horrible thing I’ve ever experienced and I just wanted to get out of there. I was about to walk out of that room and never come back. Ever. I didn’t care if I never had the baby. He could just stay in there. I was really hazy, so I would basically just deal with the contraction and then lay there in a stupor.

Finally my doctor came in and checked me one last time. After 40 hours, and 4 rounds of medicine my doctor basically said he would be generous and call me a 5. Wow. Basically my body was having none of it this whole labor thing, but I wasn’t in a good place health wise and my baby was in distress.

My doctor tries to do everything he can to avoid c-sections, but he felt it was necessary in my case. Since I had just spent the last 3 hours laying there knowing that my body just wasn’t going to be able to do it and begging them (in my mind) to just cut the kid out, I agreed without hesitation. Poor Luke. I didn’t consult him or even talk to him about it.

Once the decision was made, things moved along. I was taken to the OR and the nurse anesthetist put my block in. That was fun because I was still having contractions and had to sit very still. But he did it and I started to go numb.

Soon we were ready to start. Luke was in there, so they asked him if he wanted to watch. He took one glance behind the sheet, and that was enough for him. We still weren’t so sure about the c-section process, and part of us wondered if trying an epidural wouldn’t have helped enough to have the baby born naturally.
However, the doctors quickly dispelled that question when they came to the baby and found that his cord was wrapped around his neck 3 times. 

With that news, I just felt the protection of God wash over us. If we had pushed through and tried to go for a natural birth, it could have ended with catastrophic results.

As soon as we heard the baby cry, we knew that it was ok. Everything was ok. It was ok that I went through a failed induction. It was ok that I had a c-section. Because our baby was here. And he was perfect.