Our birth story...

I wanted to write down out birth story before the details got too hazy.  Though considering the drugs that were given to me for the c-section, I may have made these details up in my head.  Given that I had a c-section, I suppose it goes without saying that the birth was not the type I had planned, though actually nothing in this experience went as planned so I'm not sure why I expected anything different. 

I imagine anyone who has had any type of fertility problems remembers when they decided to try to get pregnant: the excitement, the anticipation,...and the thought that it would most certainly happen easily and quickly.  Why wouldn't it? We were young, in love, and not at all afraid of working hard and puting ourselves in this heart and soul.  Which is probably why it hurts so much more when it doesn't happen.  After several months, and weird things happening with my body, we realized we needed some help.  Now our fertility issues were nothing compared to those of so many others, but I don't think that makes it easier or makes our experience worth less.  However, after 10 months of medications, lots of blood draws (which you think would have cured my fear of needles), and ultrasounds, we were surprised to find that I was pregnant...especially after I was told that I had no egg follicles that month and that there was no way I could get pregnant.  I was given a prescription for Provera to start my period, which Chris talked me out of taking, saying "Let's just see what happens."  And look what happened. 

My pregnancy was entirely uneventful, until at 35 weeks pregnant I had an ultrasound and found out that the baby was frank breech, or butt first.  My amniotic fluid was on the low side of normal and my placenta was anterior.  Meaning they couldn't move the baby and there was a slim chance he would be able to move on his own because he had no swimming room.  The baby was 4 lbs 15 oz.  I went back at 37 weeks and the baby was still breech, the amniotic fluid was below normal and the baby weighed in at 4 lbs. 14 oz.  Trouble.  I was told to drink as much gatorade as possible in the next 24 hours and if my fluid was not up then I would be having a cesarean that weekend.  Luckily the gatorade did the trick, the non-stress test was normal and I got to keep that little guy in me for a little while longer.  Same tests the next week were also normal, and we scheduled the section for 6/25 at 12:15.  I tried not to think about how the baby wasn't growing. 

We checked in at 10:15 and we were in pretty bright spirits considering my fear of needles and lack of surgical experience.  I made sure to tell every single person who came in how scared I was of needles, and I made it through the IV placement with my amazing OR nurse, Stella.  I was surprised they had me walk myself into the operating room.  Chris would come in after the spinal block.  I sat on the table, rounding over (as much as I could with my belly) and tried to engage a very tiny nurse name Joan in conversation to distract myself.  The nurse anesthetist STUDENT (seriously) prepped me and told me we were just waiting for Dr. Murphy, the anesthesiologist.  I looked at Stella and asked if she could tell Dr. Murphy to move his ass.  She was more than happy to, and Dr. Murphy arrived very quickly, stating that his ass was now in the room.  They started the spinal, and I almost passed out of course, but made it.  I was quickly filled with a warm feeling which was so bizarre, but kind of nice...until I started puking.  They got my BP under control and Chris arrived. 

Chris rubbed my head while they started surgery, and I really couldn't feel a single thing.  No real pressure or tugging.  We talked to Dr. Messinger about her family and she let me know that if there were any problems with the surgery, we wouldn't be having this conversation.  Suddenly she said, "I can see his booty! He's got a little tiny booty!" I convinced Chris to look over the drape to see him coming out and he came out screaming.  They showed him to me quickly then took him about 5 feet away to clean him up, etc.  The NICU team checked him out and said he was great, though tiny at 4 lbs 14 oz....same as the last ultrasound measurement.  They wrapped him up and Chris brought him to me.  The darn nurse anesthetist student took pictures of us as a family. 

We went to recovery where I got some Benadryl for the itching and began nursing.  He was very good at nursing from the get go, though it was tough with no movement from my chest down. 

Tucker John was born at 12:52 pm 4 lbs 14 oz, 18.25 inches.  Though this was certainly not the low intervention, doula assisted birth I envisioned, it was perfect for us.  By far the happiest day of my life. 

What the eff do we do now?

Today is my first day alone with my eleven day old baby, Tucker. My mom left this morning after three glorious weeks here to help. Chris of course had to work today. Know a good way to make everyone feel guilty about leaving you alone? Fall on the stairs and hit your head in the wall. That works well. So now I'm left wondering what on Earth are Tuck and I going to do all day. There are not stairs in my immediate future, which takes laundry or making up the guest bed off the table. Wait a sec... I think that means I can officially do nothing all day. Maybe this is more awesome than it seems. I know exactly what I will do. I will sit here a stare at this beautiful miracle. That should make the time go quickly.

A few of my favorite things

Okay, I'll admit it.  I actually don't care for the pumpkin spice latte.  It tastes more like coffee creamer than coffee, and the sugar gets me higher than the caffeine, but for a lot less time. 

But I'll forgive autumn this one misstep because I love everything else about fall.  Everything.

Here in Spokane, it is definitely fall.  Mid 50's, crisp and sunny, beautiful leaves changing colors.  The smell of homefires burning. 

My only problem is that all I want to do is lay in front of the fire, eat soup, read a book, while smelling a yummy candle. 

And this is not doing much for my ass. 

a butcher, a baker, a candle stick maker

I feel very lucky to have a partner that pursues his passions with fervor.  Barbeque? Got the smoker, got the cookbook, it has been perfected.  Pasta making? Multiple cookbooks and six hours later and we have 42 servings of homemade pasta in the freezer.  Going wine tasting? We've got the names, the map, and the printout of all wine prices before leaving.  Okay, that one might have been me. 

Latest obsession of Chris? Bread making.  Ahh, bread making.  Who doesn't love fresh baked bread? The smell, that first warm bite.  Chris REALLY loves bread, and more than that the challenge of bread making. 

Round 1:  Late August.  As all foodie challenges begin, Chris was watching a bread making episode of America's Test Kitchen.  Crusty white bread.  As kids who grew up on wheat bread, we love love love some farm style white bread.  It was great.  We proclaimed, "THE BEST BREAD EVER MADE!" 

Round 2-3: Attempts to make the previously mentioned bread lighter.   Still tasty, however not lighter.  Following these two loaves I thought perhaps I was gluten intolerant.  Then I realized I should probably include something besides bread in my diet.  Cured.

Round 4: We discovered an amazing blog...foodwishes.blogspot.com wear the Chef provides video recipes.  Viola! We made REAL, LIGHT, WONDERFUL Ciabatta bread! BEST BREAD EVER MADE! We decided to include some vegetables in our diet this time around with bruschetta from our garden tomatoes and basil. 

And then I lost track.  Since this time, we've had at least 6 loaves of bread including light farm style white bread that was not dense  (Again-best bread ever made!), oatmeal bread, and more ciabatta bread.  Today is his first attempt at multi-grain bread.  I'm sure it will also be the best bread ever made. 

Did I mention we had to buy the 50 lbs. bag of bread flour from Costco?

Mambo Italiano

I am lucky to have an occasional day off in the middle of the week.  I would be really lucky if that meant I didn't have to work the weekend as well but whatever. 

Quite often, Chris comes home from work to find me covered in flour, unshowered,  and probably sweaty after cooking all day.  Lucky guy, my husband. 

Most recently, I decided to make lots of food, Italian food.  Homemade gnocchi, butternut squash ravioli, and veal ravioli.  I'm not sure what the hell I was thinking, but it was fabulous. 

And I promise I did take a shower that day, I just didn't look like it by the time Chris got home. 

chez ambrose

Conversation at our house tonight:
Me: So let me get this straight. As your wife, I'm in charge of buying the birthday cards, making all the appointments, paying the bills....What are you in charge of?

Chris: Finding the deals.

Ah, my husband. Just keep him away from the coupons.

Adventures in Camping...

I am lucky I have a husband that loves camping and knows how to do it. I am also really lucky my parents never forced us to camp a day in our lives. Beach cottages and hotels were more our style.

Early in our relationship, camping came up. It's cheap, you get to enjoy the great outdoors, you're out of cell phone range. It's good in theory, right?

Somehow we never made our first camping trip until this weekend (almost 3 years since the first discussion). And it's probably a good thing that Chris didn't experience me in the wilderness pre-marriage, otherwise I can't guarantee he'd have met me at the altar. When we decided to venture to the Idaho/Montana border this weekend, I had one stipulation...we would be eating hotdogs and poptarts. Chris also had one stipulation-we would only go for one night. We shook on it.

Our trip involved moving campgrounds once (thanks to bear warnings and no tent camping) and lots of whining. It was really cold. And the ground is surprisingly uncomfortable. I probably slept three hours and must have looked quite the princess with my ear plugs and sleep mask. Needless to say, camping was not my favorite activity.

Ah, the silver lining...the first thing Chris said to me this morning, "I'm too old for this sh*t."