Thursday, July 24, 2014
Productivity
The productivity level in this house over the past week has been ridiculous. I'm exhausted. hahaha. BUT things are getting done! Decorated, organized, cleaned! woohoo!
To Do
I'm a list maker.
If you were to come across a composition book of mine, you are sure to find countless lists mixed in with half thoughts and random notes I 'm supposed to remember to go back to and decipher the jumbled code of abbreviations that don't actually exist in our language - er, any language really. You'll find "To Do" lists, Shopping lists, idea lists, pack lists. I like lists - I mean really, just look at the previous sentence, there's a list of lists in that sentence. A list of lists! I literally listed of a list of lists (at least I don't have a lisp to add to that). Heh. I thought that was funny. Most of the time I feel as if I can't get anything done unless I have a list. So here's the question:
Is my daily list making a product of our instant gratification, pat-yourself-on-the-back culture? Or am I really just that much of an ADD, Scatter-brained, can't-focus-to-see-a-task-through-most-days person? Why do you make lists so much or am I alone in this compulsory list making?
While you go and ponder that, I am off to make tomorrow's "To Do" list, a packing list, and a list of ideas for better bathroom organization.
Toodles!
If you were to come across a composition book of mine, you are sure to find countless lists mixed in with half thoughts and random notes I 'm supposed to remember to go back to and decipher the jumbled code of abbreviations that don't actually exist in our language - er, any language really. You'll find "To Do" lists, Shopping lists, idea lists, pack lists. I like lists - I mean really, just look at the previous sentence, there's a list of lists in that sentence. A list of lists! I literally listed of a list of lists (at least I don't have a lisp to add to that). Heh. I thought that was funny. Most of the time I feel as if I can't get anything done unless I have a list. So here's the question:
Is my daily list making a product of our instant gratification, pat-yourself-on-the-back culture? Or am I really just that much of an ADD, Scatter-brained, can't-focus-to-see-a-task-through-most-days person? Why do you make lists so much or am I alone in this compulsory list making?
While you go and ponder that, I am off to make tomorrow's "To Do" list, a packing list, and a list of ideas for better bathroom organization.
Toodles!
Tuesday, July 22, 2014
Just Call Me Martha.
My name is Martha. But not really. Actually, my name isn't very close to Martha at all. It's Sara, but I suppose since both names in the Bible they are actually closer than you'd think. Anyways, my name is Sara, but you can call me Martha.
Why can you call me Martha?
Well, really, why couldn't you? You could technically call me whatever you'd like. I just may not answer.
But go ahead, call me Martha. Why? Oh yes, I was getting to that.
Call me Martha because I've been crafty. I've been crafty and productive. But I'm sure I'm not as much of a Martha as Martha is. Except maybe I'm closer to Martha Maywho instead of Martha Stewart, though really I'm nothing like Martha Maywho. Martha Maywho is a bit of a self-serving jerk. Ok, I can be like her, but I'm generally not. She wasn't even a Maywho, she was an almost Maywho if I remember correctly. But I digress.
Call me Martha because in the past two days I have:
-Made my Sissy a home-warming gift
-Made us a little decorative thingy to go on our new entry table
-Sewed 5 curtains. Though I need 6. We're almost there. They're sunshiney. I love them.
However, I'm really not like Martha anyways.
I am not monetarily wealthy.
I have not been to jail or prison or anything of the like.
I cannot sew a straight line (but hey, my curtains have character, do yours?!)
I have been shanked by straight pins.
I need (or at least I think I need) the internet or Better Homes & Gardens magazine to inspire my decorative ideas.
I don't own a crafting company that produces crafty things under my name.
I don't have a blonde bob.
I don't even think I know bob. (hahahahaha. hey it's 130AM, what do you expect?)
Why can you call me Martha?
Well, really, why couldn't you? You could technically call me whatever you'd like. I just may not answer.
But go ahead, call me Martha. Why? Oh yes, I was getting to that.
Call me Martha because I've been crafty. I've been crafty and productive. But I'm sure I'm not as much of a Martha as Martha is. Except maybe I'm closer to Martha Maywho instead of Martha Stewart, though really I'm nothing like Martha Maywho. Martha Maywho is a bit of a self-serving jerk. Ok, I can be like her, but I'm generally not. She wasn't even a Maywho, she was an almost Maywho if I remember correctly. But I digress.
Call me Martha because in the past two days I have:
-Made my Sissy a home-warming gift
-Made us a little decorative thingy to go on our new entry table
-Sewed 5 curtains. Though I need 6. We're almost there. They're sunshiney. I love them.
However, I'm really not like Martha anyways.
I am not monetarily wealthy.
I have not been to jail or prison or anything of the like.
I cannot sew a straight line (but hey, my curtains have character, do yours?!)
I have been shanked by straight pins.
I need (or at least I think I need) the internet or Better Homes & Gardens magazine to inspire my decorative ideas.
I don't own a crafting company that produces crafty things under my name.
I don't have a blonde bob.
I don't even think I know bob. (hahahahaha. hey it's 130AM, what do you expect?)
on my pregnancy, fears and having a preemie baby
Since I've been wanting to blog about my experiences and my anxiety is keeping me up - I figured I'd tackle some of the things I mentioned here that I've been wanting to blog about. I shall start at the top of the list which, if you read the title of this post, is about my pregnancy, my fears and having a preemie.
My pregnancy was not an easy one. In fact, if I'm completely honest it was awful with the exception that I was carrying my precious daughter. Everything made me sick...like EVERYTHING. Sweet things made me sick, chicken, avocado, dairy, tomatoes, smells, the thought of certain foods, not eating, eating. It's a miracle I actually gained weight since I'm sure I spent 97% of my pregnancy worshiping the porcelain throne. I actually still can't bring myself to eat avocado and sometimes I'm wary of cereal. Funny how that happens even though I know I'd be fine now. One of my pregnancy fears was eating. I was often late to work because I was sick all the time. I often ran away from customers because I was sick. I ran a lot in retrospect. hah! But my main fear was losing my baby. I was determined to not have another miscarriage (because I can control that). I attempted to eat better - which just turned into an attempt to eat, I stayed away from caffeine until my second trimester, I slept when I could, put my feet up when I could, I did pregnancy yoga (which is a lot less tortuous than non-pregnancy yoga). I tried to not be a Debbie downer (but seriously, when you puke only 6 times on a good day, it makes it difficult). I was shocked and excited when we found out we were having a girl and I tried so desperately to give all my fears over to Jesus and I discovered where I lack in my faith and I discovered (though I already knew), that despite what the doctors say, God is bigger. God is stronger. God is bigger. God is faithful. Despite what they said, He protected her. He kept her safe and healthy and He brought her to us. He even brought her early ;) It's interesting and frustrating that my anxiety issues were so prevalent over losing her. It's frustrating that it scares me to get pregnant again because I'm afraid of losing another. I'm afraid of having my baby in the NICU. I'm afraid of anything being wrong with any of my babies - past, present, future. I hope this is just a mom thing. I suppose that sums up the first two points. Let's move on, shall we?
Having a preemie. The most asked question I receive is "were you scared?". In length, no. There really isn't time to be scared. I woke up at 2:30AM on Christmas morning and shortly after we were heading to the hospital - after talking to the Hubs and calling my mom and then the doctor and then questioning the doctor's advice and then finally going. I had no idea I was in labor at that point, so I wasn't scared. And then they hooked me up to the contraction monitor and told me I was having contractions and I still wasn't scared. Then they started evaluating me further and decided to airvac me to another hospital. And I was as cool as a cucumber, which is apparently pretty cool and it's apparently uncharacteristic of me. I should have been freaking out, but God kept me calm. His peace is the only thing that makes my reaction explainable. For that, I am forever grateful. Fast forward a few twelve hours or so and it's 2ish PM and they're moving me from antepartum to delivery after I asked them if we could wait a few minutes. The nurses looked at me like I was crazy. Fast forward another 15 hours and I'm asking the doctor to wait to break my water. Again, she looked at me like I was nuts. Then around 8:30AM our precious daughter entered the world. I was terrified around midnight when the NICU staff came in to tell me everything that COULD be wrong with her, but then they told me the percentage and my fears subsided. Then she was born and I was excited, I was in love, I was so proud of her and I was terrified in that moment when they took her away to NICU. They had to, she was 9 weeks early. But they said she was big and strong and feisty and my fears subsided. It wasn't until I was utterly sleep deprived and having to make decisions for the life of a less than four and a half pound baby that the fear crept in. There was no time for fear during labor and delivery. You just go with it. Everything kicked in later. When she got her PICC line and I saw the nurses suited up for surgery because they needed a 100% sterile environment and her door was closed or when they put her under the bili lights or when she'd have a bradycardia or apnea spell, or when she'd pull off her alarms. The machines were fear provoking. The alarms were fear provoking. I tried to be strong, I'm not that strong. I leaned on my husband and I leaned on God more than I ever have. We were blessed, so abundantly blessed, that our little preemie girl was strong, big and healthy. We were blessed, so abundantly blessed that most of her alarms were false alarms, set off by our little feisty pants taking off her wires. We are so blessed by her and I am constantly blown away at God's grace over her life and His provision for us emotionally, spiritually, physically during that time. He brought us through. He gave me the strength to see our daughter on monitors. He gave me the strength to get through some scary stuff and to get through some tough stuff and I am grateful. He protected her and strengthened her and kept her healthy and put us in the care of the most caring nurses I've ever met. So no, I wasn't scared in the moment of having her. I wasn't scared at the prospect of having her early. But yes, I was terrified. I was so scared when the alarms would go off, I was scared every morning when I'd walk in and check her weight progress, I was scared when they called and asked permissions when we weren't at the hospital. I was scared when I wasn't there, I was scared when I was. I was scared of losing my daughter, but I wasn't scared of being her mom or having her early. But then, I think we're all scared on some level when we become parents.
And it's funny to me how so many people ask me what it's like having a preemie or ask me if it's weird or if it seems abnormal or weird in any way. I think people forget that I have not been a mom to a full-term baby, so everything we've went through with her - we really don't have a different standard. I think, whenever God blesses us with another child, I think then it will seem weird when I carry a child to full term and have a "normal" birth experience. Is any birth experience "normal"?
So there's the quickest run down of my pregnancy experience and having a preemie baby. I could write more, but our little love is sick and it's late (or early) and I should get some sleep because she needs me to comfort her again. And if you could and if you'd like to, she could use some prayer. She's never been sick-sick before this and she's miserable, so if you would pray she'd kick this stomach bug quickly and be back to her normal self soon she, her daddy and I would greatly appreciate it. Thank you & God bless.
My pregnancy was not an easy one. In fact, if I'm completely honest it was awful with the exception that I was carrying my precious daughter. Everything made me sick...like EVERYTHING. Sweet things made me sick, chicken, avocado, dairy, tomatoes, smells, the thought of certain foods, not eating, eating. It's a miracle I actually gained weight since I'm sure I spent 97% of my pregnancy worshiping the porcelain throne. I actually still can't bring myself to eat avocado and sometimes I'm wary of cereal. Funny how that happens even though I know I'd be fine now. One of my pregnancy fears was eating. I was often late to work because I was sick all the time. I often ran away from customers because I was sick. I ran a lot in retrospect. hah! But my main fear was losing my baby. I was determined to not have another miscarriage (because I can control that). I attempted to eat better - which just turned into an attempt to eat, I stayed away from caffeine until my second trimester, I slept when I could, put my feet up when I could, I did pregnancy yoga (which is a lot less tortuous than non-pregnancy yoga). I tried to not be a Debbie downer (but seriously, when you puke only 6 times on a good day, it makes it difficult). I was shocked and excited when we found out we were having a girl and I tried so desperately to give all my fears over to Jesus and I discovered where I lack in my faith and I discovered (though I already knew), that despite what the doctors say, God is bigger. God is stronger. God is bigger. God is faithful. Despite what they said, He protected her. He kept her safe and healthy and He brought her to us. He even brought her early ;) It's interesting and frustrating that my anxiety issues were so prevalent over losing her. It's frustrating that it scares me to get pregnant again because I'm afraid of losing another. I'm afraid of having my baby in the NICU. I'm afraid of anything being wrong with any of my babies - past, present, future. I hope this is just a mom thing. I suppose that sums up the first two points. Let's move on, shall we?
Having a preemie. The most asked question I receive is "were you scared?". In length, no. There really isn't time to be scared. I woke up at 2:30AM on Christmas morning and shortly after we were heading to the hospital - after talking to the Hubs and calling my mom and then the doctor and then questioning the doctor's advice and then finally going. I had no idea I was in labor at that point, so I wasn't scared. And then they hooked me up to the contraction monitor and told me I was having contractions and I still wasn't scared. Then they started evaluating me further and decided to airvac me to another hospital. And I was as cool as a cucumber, which is apparently pretty cool and it's apparently uncharacteristic of me. I should have been freaking out, but God kept me calm. His peace is the only thing that makes my reaction explainable. For that, I am forever grateful. Fast forward a few twelve hours or so and it's 2ish PM and they're moving me from antepartum to delivery after I asked them if we could wait a few minutes. The nurses looked at me like I was crazy. Fast forward another 15 hours and I'm asking the doctor to wait to break my water. Again, she looked at me like I was nuts. Then around 8:30AM our precious daughter entered the world. I was terrified around midnight when the NICU staff came in to tell me everything that COULD be wrong with her, but then they told me the percentage and my fears subsided. Then she was born and I was excited, I was in love, I was so proud of her and I was terrified in that moment when they took her away to NICU. They had to, she was 9 weeks early. But they said she was big and strong and feisty and my fears subsided. It wasn't until I was utterly sleep deprived and having to make decisions for the life of a less than four and a half pound baby that the fear crept in. There was no time for fear during labor and delivery. You just go with it. Everything kicked in later. When she got her PICC line and I saw the nurses suited up for surgery because they needed a 100% sterile environment and her door was closed or when they put her under the bili lights or when she'd have a bradycardia or apnea spell, or when she'd pull off her alarms. The machines were fear provoking. The alarms were fear provoking. I tried to be strong, I'm not that strong. I leaned on my husband and I leaned on God more than I ever have. We were blessed, so abundantly blessed, that our little preemie girl was strong, big and healthy. We were blessed, so abundantly blessed that most of her alarms were false alarms, set off by our little feisty pants taking off her wires. We are so blessed by her and I am constantly blown away at God's grace over her life and His provision for us emotionally, spiritually, physically during that time. He brought us through. He gave me the strength to see our daughter on monitors. He gave me the strength to get through some scary stuff and to get through some tough stuff and I am grateful. He protected her and strengthened her and kept her healthy and put us in the care of the most caring nurses I've ever met. So no, I wasn't scared in the moment of having her. I wasn't scared at the prospect of having her early. But yes, I was terrified. I was so scared when the alarms would go off, I was scared every morning when I'd walk in and check her weight progress, I was scared when they called and asked permissions when we weren't at the hospital. I was scared when I wasn't there, I was scared when I was. I was scared of losing my daughter, but I wasn't scared of being her mom or having her early. But then, I think we're all scared on some level when we become parents.
And it's funny to me how so many people ask me what it's like having a preemie or ask me if it's weird or if it seems abnormal or weird in any way. I think people forget that I have not been a mom to a full-term baby, so everything we've went through with her - we really don't have a different standard. I think, whenever God blesses us with another child, I think then it will seem weird when I carry a child to full term and have a "normal" birth experience. Is any birth experience "normal"?
So there's the quickest run down of my pregnancy experience and having a preemie baby. I could write more, but our little love is sick and it's late (or early) and I should get some sleep because she needs me to comfort her again. And if you could and if you'd like to, she could use some prayer. She's never been sick-sick before this and she's miserable, so if you would pray she'd kick this stomach bug quickly and be back to her normal self soon she, her daddy and I would greatly appreciate it. Thank you & God bless.
Thursday, July 10, 2014
It's already been half a year!
I've stopped blogging, or really, writing in general. I should keep up with it. Or at least do it a little more frequently. I enjoy it, it helps me process and I get to look back on it and remember things a little more clearly. It's been over half a year since the last time I wrote. The last time I wrote, I was 6 months pregnant and getting excited about C's room getting closer to being done. Crazy.
So what's been going on?
I've been creating an on-going list of things I'd like to write about in my mommy brain that gets lost about every 5 seconds.
Our daughter came in December, exactly 2 months before her due date. Labor was oddly easy. She was big for her gestational age and perfect. She stayed in the NICU for 26 days. I documented everything in a notebook I keep losing, freaking out about, and then finding again. Then the cycle repeats itself. I should really put that somewhere safer or record it in my e-mail or something that has a lesser chance of being misplaced.
Things I've been wanting to B-log about?
Having a preemie baby.
My fears during pregnancy.
My fears as a Mommy. (because they are real, and no one told me about them)
My joys as a Mommy.
My struggles in the transition of just the Wifey-Boo to Wifey-Boo and Mommy.
Having a baby in the NICU.
Strength.
PPD.
And then we finished her room.
And I've been meaning to show pictures and brag on how awesome my hubby is for doing the chair rail and designing so much of her room. I'm so thankful for his creativity!
Things I've been meaning to B-log about?
Adding chair rail in a room.
Painting plastic.
Making stencils.
The awesome headboard A made me for my birthday.
and other silly things that pop into my mind. Like what would you do if you entered someone's house to find they owned a Flemish Giant Rabbit. I've found pictures. Really, you would be speechless.
And the baby just spit up on Daddy's pillow. Nice one, lovey bugg, nice one.
But, for now - I'll just B-log about how I've had plans to B-log about all those things and more (cloth diapers and other sewing projects!)...and now it's time to try to get baby down to sleep because she's WIDE awake and it's 10:30PM
So what's been going on?
I've been creating an on-going list of things I'd like to write about in my mommy brain that gets lost about every 5 seconds.
Our daughter came in December, exactly 2 months before her due date. Labor was oddly easy. She was big for her gestational age and perfect. She stayed in the NICU for 26 days. I documented everything in a notebook I keep losing, freaking out about, and then finding again. Then the cycle repeats itself. I should really put that somewhere safer or record it in my e-mail or something that has a lesser chance of being misplaced.
Things I've been wanting to B-log about?
Having a preemie baby.
My fears during pregnancy.
My fears as a Mommy. (because they are real, and no one told me about them)
My joys as a Mommy.
My struggles in the transition of just the Wifey-Boo to Wifey-Boo and Mommy.
Having a baby in the NICU.
Strength.
PPD.
And then we finished her room.
And I've been meaning to show pictures and brag on how awesome my hubby is for doing the chair rail and designing so much of her room. I'm so thankful for his creativity!
Things I've been meaning to B-log about?
Adding chair rail in a room.
Painting plastic.
Making stencils.
The awesome headboard A made me for my birthday.
and other silly things that pop into my mind. Like what would you do if you entered someone's house to find they owned a Flemish Giant Rabbit. I've found pictures. Really, you would be speechless.
And the baby just spit up on Daddy's pillow. Nice one, lovey bugg, nice one.
But, for now - I'll just B-log about how I've had plans to B-log about all those things and more (cloth diapers and other sewing projects!)...and now it's time to try to get baby down to sleep because she's WIDE awake and it's 10:30PM
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