I had a neat experience today that I thought I should share. With the addition of sweet Jocelyn to our brood, my routines have been thrown off and I have been trying to adjust to my new "normal." This has included accepting the fact that I cannot do all of the things I used to be able to do, including the fact that I cannot always dedicate a half hour or hour of meaningful and uninterrupted scripture study. Along with accepting that, I've also had to learn to accept that it really is okay that I just do the best that I can, even if that "best" looks different day to day. That is all the Lord asks of me.
Anyway, so my studies have looked a lot like this since we brought Jocelyn home: listening (or half-listening) to a conference talk while I tend to my children and my home. This morning I listened to a conference talk from October 1991 by H. Verlan Anderson, titled "Bring Up Your Children in Light and Truth." This talk was an answer to prayer.
One of my biggest concerns and worries (if not my absolute biggest concern and worry) is being adequate enough to teach my children those things and skills that they will need most in this life. For me, those things include who and Whose they are, delayed gratification, self-control and discipline, love and kindness and, of course, the gospel. It is such a big concern of mine that I often fret about it.
Well, this talk taught/reminded me of two very important truths:
1. The age of accountability is the age of 8 for a good reason! Satan literally cannot tempt my children before this age and therefore has no influence over them. They are purely innocent. These early years are critical for gospel learning and character building because these precious children cannot be touched or swayed by the adversary, and the foundation created here will serve as a foundation for the rest of their lives.
2. My children are not mine and Stephen's alone: they are also Heavenly Father's children. He has entrusted these children to us for very specific reasons and purposes and He is even more invested in them then we are (and we are really invested!). We MUST include Him in our parenting and counsel with Him often. If we can do this, then we will not and cannot go wrong.
I am so grateful for these reminders! As I pondered them, I thought about the latest parenting issue that has been troubling me: getting Benjamin fully potty trained. A seemingly silly thing, but I was also reminded that what matters to me also matters to God, no matter how small or insignificant. Potty training Benjamin has been a on-going process for months and months with very slow progress. I hate it. If I could hire someone else to come do it I would. Quite seriously. Anyway, inspired after my study I decided to take the concern to the Lord, and once again the Spirit touched my heart. I told my Heavenly Father about how scared and insignificant I felt about teaching my children. I told Him about all the things I hoped to teach my children, things that mattered most. I realized that potty trained did not make the list. The Spirit softly spoke to my heart that all I needed to do was focus on the things I most wanted my children to learn- those things of eternal value. If I could do that and then trust in God's hands fully, everything else, including potty training, would take care of itself in it's own due time. Of course this doesn't mean that I should stop encouraging and reminding Benjamin to use the potty, but it did mean that I could stop fretting so much about things that didn't really matter. I felt immense relief!
How grateful I am to know how invested God is in my children and that my efforts can be blessed with grace! How grateful I am to know that Stephen and I are not in this parenting business alone!
Thursday, September 15, 2016
Thursday, September 8, 2016
Jocelyn's Birth Story
Because I had gone into labor naturally early with both boys, we fully expected my first contractions with this baby to come early as well. Starting around 36 weeks I had sporadic contractions and some start-stop labor (we didn't know it yet, but baby was posterior and we learned that this can often cause start-stop labor), but it seemed to never amount to anything and it was very frustrating. I also had near constant pelvic pressure and was in a lot of pain. At my 36 week appointment I was dilated to 2cm which encouraged and excited me. Each subsequent appointment, however, I would learn that I had not made any progress and was still dilated to only 2cm. With all of the pain and contractions I was having this was especially discouraging and frustrating. The last weeks of pregnancy were very hard for me, not just because of the pain and seemingly insufficient contractions, but also because I felt like everyone was constantly reminding me that I was still not making any progress and all I wanted to do was to forget about making progress and just enjoy my boys.
To top it all off, I started having what I thought was severe heartburn. I tried 4 or 5 different medications and home remedies but nothing brought relief. The chest pain got so bad that my nurse midwife decided that she wanted me to go in to the hospital to get checked out in case it wasn't heartburn at all but something more serious. So on Saturday, August 13th (the day before my due date) I asked my mom to come down and watch our boys so we could go in to the hospital. I did NOT want to go, but agreed to appease my midwife and Stephen, who had started to worry. While we waited for my mom's arrival, I bounced on the birth ball and talked with Benjamin, who had just gotten up from his nap. Teasing, Stephen told Benjamin to "tell baby sister that it was time to come out." Benjamin rubbed my belly and spoke the words, then sat back, looked at me quizzically and said, "Mama, it no works!" It sure made us laugh. If only labor worked like that...
My mom arrived and Stephen and I kissed the boys good-bye. Upon check-in at labor and delivery I was dilated to 3cm. They determined that all was okay with baby and sent us over to the ER to get me checked out. It was a very long and ridiculous process (I was still mad about being there), but tests were run and we waited not-so-patiently for results. While we waited, we decided to watch some of the Olympic games that were on. This was the highlight of the whole ordeal for me as I love the Olympics and desperately wanted to watch the games but we did not have the means to do so at home.While watching the games, I started noticing mild contractions about every five minutes but did not think much of it since I had had so much start-stop, non-productive labor for weeks prior. It started looking like we were going to be in the ER later then expected so my mom packed the boys up and took them to her house for the night. Around 8pm I finally got cleared to go home with a clean bill of health.
On our way home, we stopped to grab me a Jamba Juice for dinner and Stephen a burger. My contractions started to get a bit stronger and a closer together, but my hope for labor was still reserved. When we got home, we decided to go for a walk to see what happened with the contractions. Almost immediately the contractions became stronger and more frequent and I had to stop and lean into Stephen, moaning through each one. We continued to walk around and around our block, not daring to go too far away from home "just in case." It was 10pm and dark out, our street quiet and peaceful. The night air was cool and the sound of the crickets was very soothing. Despite needing to stop and concentrate through each contraction (now coming on 1-2 minutes apart, but not lasting more than 40 seconds), I really enjoyed that walk with Stephen.
At about 10:30pm I finally accepted that this was the "real deal" and phoned my doula, Sariah, and my good friend, Amanda, who was going to come and take pictures for us. While we waited for their arrival, I labored on my hands and knees bent over the birth ball. Contractions were so powerful now that they nearly took my breath away, but they still weren't lasting very long so it was still bearable. Amanda was the first to arrive and her presence was so comforting and refreshing (my poor, sweet hubby was so exhausted from a long day at the hospital and then a late night supporting me). She came in with a new energy, a smile and a big pan of brownies. I love her. Stephen decided to give my midwife a call to let her know that we were coming back in to the hospital, this time in labor. I didn't hear much of their exchange but I'm positive she heard me hollering through each contraction. My suspicions were confirmed when Stephen handed the phone to me and my midwife told me to hurry and get my butt in the car. She apparently thought, by the sounds I was making, that I was close to pushing and was really concerned that we wouldn't make it to the hospital in time. I wasn't worried though and would probably have stayed at home a bit longer otherwise. Nevertheless, I was obedient.
As we were loading up the car, Sariah showed up and the four of us made our way over to the American Fork Hospital about 25 minutes away. Stephen sped the whole way, making the trip in maybe 15 minutes. His driving didn't make me so nervous this time as it was close to midnight and the freeway was pretty clear. Stephen had highway patrol ready on speed dial just in case a cop caught us and tried to pull us over. My midwife, Katherine, frantically called us as we were pulling in to the hospital parking lot, hoping to hear that we were close. She met us outside with a wheelchair, following the sounds of my hollering to locate us in the dark. Katherine immediately started applying counter-pressure to my knees through each contraction which was a welcome relief. I was so grateful for her.
My room and nurses were all ready to go when we got up to labor and delivery, courtesy of Katherine. They helped me strip down right then and there and throw on a gown. Katherine let me know that the anesthesiologist was not there and that I was probably too far along for an epidural anyway. That is when I panicked. I was in NO WAY prepared for an unmedicated birth and the thought of the possible pain paralyzed me with fear. Katherine checked my cervix and we were all surprised to hear that I was only 5cm along, 100% effaced. I didn't understand how contractions could be this close together and this powerful but not be in transition yet and asked Katherine about it. She said that because I was going so quickly and had hit-the-ground-running with labor that it made sense that contractions would be this intense this early on, and that I'd likely continue to go quickly. She stepped out to phone the anesthesiologist and I prayed hard that he'd make it in time.
One moment that I was really proud of was when I presented my birth plan to my nurse and made clear my wishes for this labor and delivery. I am not a very assertive person and I struggle quite a bit with standing up for myself, so this was big for me. Luckily, my nurse was very receptive and kind and this made it easier for me to do. Advocating for myself and for my unborn baby made me feel confident and empowered, two things I had hoped to feel during this delivery.
Amanda and Sariah (who drove their own cars) had arrived and I was yet again grateful for their presence. They brought such a calm, happy and energetic feeling to the room and I couldn't help but feed off of it. In between contractions, we were all laughing, joking and having a good ole' time! It was definitely not your typical labor scene. It was so positive and happy and even fun, as crazy as that sounds. I felt so much love for everyone present and so much gratitude for their support. I couldn't believe that labor could feel this way, but I was sure glad that it did!
The positive feelings were only magnified ten-fold when I got my epidural (yes! The anesthesiologist arrived in plenty of time!) and I started to feel kind of silly and loopy, but not incoherent. With some coaxing, Katherin broke my waters and found meconium. I got really worried, but Katherine assured me that baby's heart tones looked great thus far and I didn't need to be concerned. She also said that because of the meconium the resuscitation team would be present by precaution. I was still super anxious and periodically asked how baby's heart tones were looking.
With the epidural, my cervical dilation took off quickly. So quickly that at one point Katherine literally felt my cervix dilate a full centimeter (from 8 to 9) under her fingers within seconds. After laboring for 2 hours at home and 2 hours in the hospital (only 4 hours of labor total!), it was time to push!
I really hated the pushing. I suddenly lost all positive vibes and energy and felt like I had no strength to go on, even though the pushing had only just begun. A nurse brought in a mirror so I could see my progress and it was neat to watch that little head of dark hair descend, but I was still too tired to be too excited. After what felt like an eternity (it had only been 15 minutes) and with a lot of urging from my midwife to push just one more time with just a little more strength, baby came out in a big splash of green fluid. Baby's chord was immediately cut (which I did not want, but I understood that baby needed immediate care) and she was handed off to the resuscitation team. I later found out that as baby descended down the birth canal, her heart rate dropped dangerously low, and upon crowning it was even worse. In efforts to avoid making me panic, my midwife had kept this to herself (which I was grateful for) and urged me to push harder. We also discovered that baby was indeed posterior (which I had suspected all along. Everyone was amazed that I pushed her out as quickly as I did as posterior babies tend to be more difficult to get out) and had her cord wrapped around her neck and then around her right arm. She also had a considerable amount of meconium ingested that was suctioned out by the resuscitation team. With all of those factors, it is little wonder her heart rate dropped so low.
I had a SUPER hard time waiting for them to bring me my baby for the first time. I understood that they needed to make sure that she was alright, and she was really only gone for a few minutes, but those few minutes broke my heart. I was crying pretty hard; because I had had a SECOND successful VBAC when doctors had previously told me I'd likely never have one, because I was so relieved it was all over and because my little girl was finally here and I couldn't yet hold her. After what felt like another eternity (which was only a few minutes), I got to hold my sweet babe for the first time. The tears started all over again.
One look at her sweet face and we immediately knew her name: Jocelyn Nicole Palmer was born exactly on her due date on August 14, 2016 at 2:50am. She weighed 8 lbs 2 oz and was 19 inches long, our smallest baby yet. She had a head full of long dark hair and looked just like my newborn photos.
All traces of fatigue and pain were gone as oxytocin filled my being and the room. I was suddenly filled with new energy and excitement again (labor and delivery does some weird things to your emotions I've decided) and couldn't stop gushing over my new baby and chatting happily away. While Katherine stitched me up (I had some labial tears) I got to cuddle my new baby skin-to-skin for the next hour or more. Much to my relief, within that hour Jocelyn latched right on and was a champ nurser and has been ever since. It was all so perfect.
To top it all off, I started having what I thought was severe heartburn. I tried 4 or 5 different medications and home remedies but nothing brought relief. The chest pain got so bad that my nurse midwife decided that she wanted me to go in to the hospital to get checked out in case it wasn't heartburn at all but something more serious. So on Saturday, August 13th (the day before my due date) I asked my mom to come down and watch our boys so we could go in to the hospital. I did NOT want to go, but agreed to appease my midwife and Stephen, who had started to worry. While we waited for my mom's arrival, I bounced on the birth ball and talked with Benjamin, who had just gotten up from his nap. Teasing, Stephen told Benjamin to "tell baby sister that it was time to come out." Benjamin rubbed my belly and spoke the words, then sat back, looked at me quizzically and said, "Mama, it no works!" It sure made us laugh. If only labor worked like that...
My mom arrived and Stephen and I kissed the boys good-bye. Upon check-in at labor and delivery I was dilated to 3cm. They determined that all was okay with baby and sent us over to the ER to get me checked out. It was a very long and ridiculous process (I was still mad about being there), but tests were run and we waited not-so-patiently for results. While we waited, we decided to watch some of the Olympic games that were on. This was the highlight of the whole ordeal for me as I love the Olympics and desperately wanted to watch the games but we did not have the means to do so at home.While watching the games, I started noticing mild contractions about every five minutes but did not think much of it since I had had so much start-stop, non-productive labor for weeks prior. It started looking like we were going to be in the ER later then expected so my mom packed the boys up and took them to her house for the night. Around 8pm I finally got cleared to go home with a clean bill of health.
On our way home, we stopped to grab me a Jamba Juice for dinner and Stephen a burger. My contractions started to get a bit stronger and a closer together, but my hope for labor was still reserved. When we got home, we decided to go for a walk to see what happened with the contractions. Almost immediately the contractions became stronger and more frequent and I had to stop and lean into Stephen, moaning through each one. We continued to walk around and around our block, not daring to go too far away from home "just in case." It was 10pm and dark out, our street quiet and peaceful. The night air was cool and the sound of the crickets was very soothing. Despite needing to stop and concentrate through each contraction (now coming on 1-2 minutes apart, but not lasting more than 40 seconds), I really enjoyed that walk with Stephen.
At about 10:30pm I finally accepted that this was the "real deal" and phoned my doula, Sariah, and my good friend, Amanda, who was going to come and take pictures for us. While we waited for their arrival, I labored on my hands and knees bent over the birth ball. Contractions were so powerful now that they nearly took my breath away, but they still weren't lasting very long so it was still bearable. Amanda was the first to arrive and her presence was so comforting and refreshing (my poor, sweet hubby was so exhausted from a long day at the hospital and then a late night supporting me). She came in with a new energy, a smile and a big pan of brownies. I love her. Stephen decided to give my midwife a call to let her know that we were coming back in to the hospital, this time in labor. I didn't hear much of their exchange but I'm positive she heard me hollering through each contraction. My suspicions were confirmed when Stephen handed the phone to me and my midwife told me to hurry and get my butt in the car. She apparently thought, by the sounds I was making, that I was close to pushing and was really concerned that we wouldn't make it to the hospital in time. I wasn't worried though and would probably have stayed at home a bit longer otherwise. Nevertheless, I was obedient.
As we were loading up the car, Sariah showed up and the four of us made our way over to the American Fork Hospital about 25 minutes away. Stephen sped the whole way, making the trip in maybe 15 minutes. His driving didn't make me so nervous this time as it was close to midnight and the freeway was pretty clear. Stephen had highway patrol ready on speed dial just in case a cop caught us and tried to pull us over. My midwife, Katherine, frantically called us as we were pulling in to the hospital parking lot, hoping to hear that we were close. She met us outside with a wheelchair, following the sounds of my hollering to locate us in the dark. Katherine immediately started applying counter-pressure to my knees through each contraction which was a welcome relief. I was so grateful for her.
My room and nurses were all ready to go when we got up to labor and delivery, courtesy of Katherine. They helped me strip down right then and there and throw on a gown. Katherine let me know that the anesthesiologist was not there and that I was probably too far along for an epidural anyway. That is when I panicked. I was in NO WAY prepared for an unmedicated birth and the thought of the possible pain paralyzed me with fear. Katherine checked my cervix and we were all surprised to hear that I was only 5cm along, 100% effaced. I didn't understand how contractions could be this close together and this powerful but not be in transition yet and asked Katherine about it. She said that because I was going so quickly and had hit-the-ground-running with labor that it made sense that contractions would be this intense this early on, and that I'd likely continue to go quickly. She stepped out to phone the anesthesiologist and I prayed hard that he'd make it in time.
One moment that I was really proud of was when I presented my birth plan to my nurse and made clear my wishes for this labor and delivery. I am not a very assertive person and I struggle quite a bit with standing up for myself, so this was big for me. Luckily, my nurse was very receptive and kind and this made it easier for me to do. Advocating for myself and for my unborn baby made me feel confident and empowered, two things I had hoped to feel during this delivery.
Amanda and Sariah (who drove their own cars) had arrived and I was yet again grateful for their presence. They brought such a calm, happy and energetic feeling to the room and I couldn't help but feed off of it. In between contractions, we were all laughing, joking and having a good ole' time! It was definitely not your typical labor scene. It was so positive and happy and even fun, as crazy as that sounds. I felt so much love for everyone present and so much gratitude for their support. I couldn't believe that labor could feel this way, but I was sure glad that it did!
The positive feelings were only magnified ten-fold when I got my epidural (yes! The anesthesiologist arrived in plenty of time!) and I started to feel kind of silly and loopy, but not incoherent. With some coaxing, Katherin broke my waters and found meconium. I got really worried, but Katherine assured me that baby's heart tones looked great thus far and I didn't need to be concerned. She also said that because of the meconium the resuscitation team would be present by precaution. I was still super anxious and periodically asked how baby's heart tones were looking.
With the epidural, my cervical dilation took off quickly. So quickly that at one point Katherine literally felt my cervix dilate a full centimeter (from 8 to 9) under her fingers within seconds. After laboring for 2 hours at home and 2 hours in the hospital (only 4 hours of labor total!), it was time to push!
I really hated the pushing. I suddenly lost all positive vibes and energy and felt like I had no strength to go on, even though the pushing had only just begun. A nurse brought in a mirror so I could see my progress and it was neat to watch that little head of dark hair descend, but I was still too tired to be too excited. After what felt like an eternity (it had only been 15 minutes) and with a lot of urging from my midwife to push just one more time with just a little more strength, baby came out in a big splash of green fluid. Baby's chord was immediately cut (which I did not want, but I understood that baby needed immediate care) and she was handed off to the resuscitation team. I later found out that as baby descended down the birth canal, her heart rate dropped dangerously low, and upon crowning it was even worse. In efforts to avoid making me panic, my midwife had kept this to herself (which I was grateful for) and urged me to push harder. We also discovered that baby was indeed posterior (which I had suspected all along. Everyone was amazed that I pushed her out as quickly as I did as posterior babies tend to be more difficult to get out) and had her cord wrapped around her neck and then around her right arm. She also had a considerable amount of meconium ingested that was suctioned out by the resuscitation team. With all of those factors, it is little wonder her heart rate dropped so low.
I had a SUPER hard time waiting for them to bring me my baby for the first time. I understood that they needed to make sure that she was alright, and she was really only gone for a few minutes, but those few minutes broke my heart. I was crying pretty hard; because I had had a SECOND successful VBAC when doctors had previously told me I'd likely never have one, because I was so relieved it was all over and because my little girl was finally here and I couldn't yet hold her. After what felt like another eternity (which was only a few minutes), I got to hold my sweet babe for the first time. The tears started all over again.
One look at her sweet face and we immediately knew her name: Jocelyn Nicole Palmer was born exactly on her due date on August 14, 2016 at 2:50am. She weighed 8 lbs 2 oz and was 19 inches long, our smallest baby yet. She had a head full of long dark hair and looked just like my newborn photos.
All traces of fatigue and pain were gone as oxytocin filled my being and the room. I was suddenly filled with new energy and excitement again (labor and delivery does some weird things to your emotions I've decided) and couldn't stop gushing over my new baby and chatting happily away. While Katherine stitched me up (I had some labial tears) I got to cuddle my new baby skin-to-skin for the next hour or more. Much to my relief, within that hour Jocelyn latched right on and was a champ nurser and has been ever since. It was all so perfect.
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