Tuesday, October 12, 2010
I'm starting up my own home haircutting business. I have a few clients that I will be starting with this week and I'm psyched out of my mind. If you live in or around the area I live, leave me a message or call me to schedule an appointment and/or price listing.
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
She didn't cry hardly at all either! Screams and wails, but as soon as I picked her up and swaddled her into her car seat, she was silent and observing her surroundings. Very good baby!
Right before her shots. Love that baby check-up gown!
Sunday, September 19, 2010
My girlfriend posted this link- http://thismamamakesstuff.com/2010/09/girls-with-glasses-i-need-your-help/
If you have specs, read it it's super cute!
Winter 2008- 18 days postpartum after my first baby
Saturday, September 18, 2010
Saturday, September 11, 2010
Just then, one of my band buddies walked up to me and asked something like, "Is it true that one of the twin towers was just hit with an airplane??"
I looked at and laughed. "Haha! NO! Where's you hear a CRAZY idea like that?"
"Someone said something and I wasn't sure." I had no idea how wrong I would be.
Really though, I was thinking about it all morning and by 3rd hour, the entire school was buzzing and the teachers had turned on Channel One to watch new reports. I was in my third hour history class and everyone had turned their desk around to the back of the classroom to watch the tv, our big reports all but forgotten. As we all watched the first tower rolling with smoke and flames, we all watched in shock as another plane flew into the south tower. The bell rang and no one moved. The school was eerily quiet for getting out for lunch. The reporters were helpless as they reported the live footage. One of the female reporters starting crying.
Then all the sudden, the school sprang to life. People started to get up quickly, tripping over desks, some trying to make it to the next location with a tv to keep up with what was going on. I remember like everything was a teen movie, walking through the animated lockered hallways, in slow-mo with no sound.
After lunch, I heard reports that the Pentagon was under seige with a possible airplane hit. My grandfather and grandmother had moved back to DC to secure his retirement the year before. He worked in the Pentagon. My throat tightened and I felt like I couldn't breathe.
School FINALLY ended and I made it home. Later that evening, we found out that my grandfather had been scheduled to work on the opposite side of the Pentagon that was hit so he was safe. I was beyond relieved, but the full weight of everything hit me right then. All those people.
I was devistated. The people in the planes. The people in the buildings. Their families would would never see them again. The first terrorist attack on America since Pearl Harbor. The very first attack on the American Mainland. All the sudden life seemed more fagile, not so safe, even though I lived 3000 miles away from NYC.
Last year after I put my son to sleep, I turned on the telly. My local news station was playing footage from that day. As I watched, transfixed, all the emotions from when I was a teenager flooded back. Tears started pouring down my face. My husband came into the room and sat down on the couch by me. Together, we relived all our feelings from 9/11. Then he held me as I cried, overwhelmed all over again by the horrendous loss of all those innocent American lives.
Let us not forget those who were left without family members of AA flight 11 and UA flight 175 and those in the towers. Let us not forget those lives from the Pentagon and those from AA flight 77. Let us remember those who bravely took over UA flight 93 to save the lives within the US Capitol Building. Let us remember September 11th and be stronger Americans for it.
Friday, September 3, 2010
We see these things happen as we shuffle through our daily tasks, but most of the time, I don't think we truly see them. With all of the things we heap on our plates, it's a miracle we even see anything.
A few weeks ago, as I sat on my couch watching my son play excitedly and holding my brand new baby girl, a thought quickly flooded my mind. It impressed upon me and everything all started to make sense. I felt as if I were disconnected with my children after the birth of my daughter, but it was more of an awakening. I felt more than heard this thought. I felt this- my children aren't mine. They are here to live and experience life.
I asked my husband, "Do you ever feel like these aren't our kids? Like, they're just these amazing little people who've come to spend time with us and teach us things?" I don't remember his response, but after I said those things aloud, it made more sense.
I truly feel that way. I don't feel possessive of my children anymore like the way I felt at first with my son. I truly believe that they are marvelous little people who've come to join my husband and I on our way to eternity. They are our teachers.
When I look at my oldest child, I see glimpses of his spirit. He is wise and knows so many things. There are times that I feel like he's looking right through me, as if he can see something I can't. I feel as if he's older than me spiritually. There are some who say he's an "old soul." And I agree.
Let us cherish these little people who've come to us. Let us take time to count to 10 before we react, speak calmly about things they can not understand, love unrestrained when we feel overwhelmed and pray for guidance when there is a moment to teach. Let us take the good from our parents and guardians and forget the bad. Let us take time to really truly see those precious things going around us and shut out the unnecissary. Let us simply take time.
Monday, August 23, 2010
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
I was released and came home from the hospital on Tuesday afternoon July 20th. Things were fine, other than the normal aching from stitches. My parents were going to be at our place around 8 that evening and would be here for an entire week. I was very much looking forward to it. I missed my dad so much I ached and my stepmom, Cherie, and I have been growing closer every time we see each other and I was excited to get to sit down with her and glean some much needed advice in person.
My belly was itchy as is normal as your skin stops stretching as starts to return to normal after childbirth. I wasn't too worried about it and didn't scratch because my skin was too tender to touch. The next 3 days it got mildy worse. And then it happened.
I became so, SO unimaginably itchy that there are no words to encompass how bad it felt. And that was just the beginning. Then as I went to sleep that night, I fought the urge to scratch. I woke up in the middle of the night on fire. I went to the bathroom as is my custom before I attend to the baby. I was stunned to see what I saw in the mirror. All over my body in HUGE patches were lobster red hives. I looked like a leper. The hives were so swollen that they puffed up and inch or more off the top of my skin that wasn't affected. An allergic reaction maybe? I have no idea but prayed in earnest that it would dissipate soon. I had Lars and my father give me a blessing.
I woke up the next morning and they were gone. But no sooner had I realized they were gone, they came back- with a vengeance. In different areas of my body this time. They were even on my face and in my scalp. For the rest of the time my parents were here, they would dissipate for 15-30 minutes and reappear in different areas of my body. I figured I could endure it for about 4 days if it didn't hit my groin area or affect my feet, my most sensitive areas. Every hour was an eternity.
I called Kaiser to talk to the advice nurse and he said to wait a bit. I asked if it could possibly be a delayed reaction to my allergy to the epidural, but he said that was impossible 4 days after coming home. He told me to come in the next morning if things got worst and to call first.
Then in the middle of the night 3 days before my parents left, I awoke again in the middle of the night to what can only be described as sheer torture. My feet, hands, and groin area were smattered with hives. I had them all over. I've never felt such agony.
I spent that day praying harder than I think I've ever prayed fr anything in my life. I didn't know what the Lord wanted me to learn by this trial, a new mom all over again with two children to care for. I just kept thinking, "What have I done wrong to deserve this kind of punishment?" I was so lost. But I did not go see the doctor. Somehow, because my parents said absolutely nothing about it, I felt like I should just tough it out, not complain. It felt like they didn't care. It made me feel distraught.
There was one particular time that i got in the shower and I just bawled. I cried and cried and cried until I had no strength left in me to stand. I'd never felt so weak and over-powered before. I couldn't fight this. My own body was working against me. If I left the house, it would still be with me. My parents asked if I wanted to get out and be at the park for a little bit to get some resh air, but I was too ashamed to leave the house. I didn't want people staring at my hideous hives I had no control over.
Cherie googled my symptoms online and read several blog entries and thing about it. There were over a million hits. And there was NOTHING to tell me what was the cause. So I continued to suffer. There were many times that I said that I was going to Urgent Care, but I couldn't make myself. I felt like my parents would look down on me for being weak. (which is completely ridiculous since they offered to watch Jonathan while Lars and I went with the baby). But emotionally and hormonally, I couldn't see past that.
The morning my parents left,took action. I scheduled an appointment with my chiropractor to set my hips so I could walk normally (my hips would slide out of place so bad as I slept that Lars nearly had to carry me to the bathroom each time) and we went to Urgent Care that night.
The doctor prescribed me a mild steroid. he said it might not work, but we had to see. If I didn't follow the directions to the T, it wouldn't work at all. I asked him if it would affect my breastmilk and if it would affect the baby. In a thick Asian accent, he said, "We have to treat you. The mother needs to be taken care of even more so than baby. If you're falling apart, the baby will get nothing out of you anyway." I took that as, "It's possible that it could have a negative effect, but there's nothing else to do." I was told to avoid being around people since the steroid would put my immune system down and he didn't want me to get sick. I also found out I had a UTI, again. I went home that night with two drugs I hoped at prayed would take care of my problems. I started them both during dinner.
I followed them the next few days. I started to feel a result on day 3. By the time I finished the steroids, the only thing I still had was mild itching, which lasted another 4 days. But after that, the hives and burning were gone. All I had left to deal with was the UTI.
I woke up again to feed the baby and it was hard to breathe. I could barely sit up to walk to the bathroom. Up under my ribcage, it hurt so bad I couldn't see straight. I drank a big glass of water I keep by the sink to stay hydrated. With each swallow, I felt my stomach go cold and expand. It felt like my insides would burst. I used the bathroom. Though I took the meds, my symptoms continued to get worse. I went in to UC again. This time I was prescribed something SUPER powerful for a kidney infection.
I finished those about a week ago and I'm still having problems. But such is life.
I just want all you mommies to know that you should take care of YOU first. If your baby has to wait and scream while you shower or use the bathroom or clean up a bit, so be it. Your natural inclination will be to ignore yourself and anything your feel could possibly be wrong with your body until it's too late. Don't ignore it. Take care of you. Your child will be just fine. Please love yourself as much as your child. No one can function if you're down and out.
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Thursday, August 5, 2010
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
To spare some details, I was pretty sure that my water had started to leak, but I wasn't positive, since I was pretty much passed out from the epi on the table and at 8cm when I had Jonathan. It was 8 am exactly. I remember looking at the clock when I went to our bathroom to put my face on and clean up a bit. But once we started to go out the door, I think I knew I wouldn't make it through church and informed Lars we should go to the hospital instead.
It was just shy of 10:00 am when we drove over to my mother-in-law's to drop off Jonathan in his church clothes. We then headed over to the new Downey Kaiser Hospital on Imperial to check in. Lars was joking the entire way and we were laughing like crazy. After we got all checked in and they made me get into a horrendous hospital gown and hooked me up to the belly monitors, we sat down to wait. And wait. And wait. And wait. At least I was able to wait BY MYSELF!! Amazing feeling, no black women to listen to screaming while I tried to stay calm with each contraction.. sorry. >.>
Lars and I decided to play "I Spy" in the tiny claustraphobic room and he was SUCH a pill! Oh man. I was laughing SO hard. Seriously, I couldn't catch my breath. The nurse came in and asked me to get on the table to be checked since I was sitting on one of the chairs. I stood up and it was Niagra Falls all over the floor. The nurse quickly responded, "Well, no need to check you!" which made me laugh all the harder. Good thing Lars was there. I'm sure all that hard laughing broke my water!!! I'm glad I decided to go the the hospital because my water would've broken right in the middle of Relief Society!!!
The nurse came in to draw blood FROM MY HAND, which made me bawl because they tried to IV me in the SAME PLACE. I started to cry and cry. I would've rather been in labor with no drugs. No matter how hard I tried to breathe through the pain, I started to panic. My attending sent in another woman to IV me, since she didn't want any bad feelings between us since she was going to be with me my entire labor. Smart woman. I remembered I needed a blessing and asked the nurses to leave the room for a moment as a matter of personal religious circumstances. I felt much better afterword and knew I'd get through everything with the Lord's help.
Lars hadn't had breakfast that morning and he was all dressed to the Nines in his church things- tie and all. When he saw the blood residue smeared on my hands and watched the IV needle probe around under my skin, it made him get dizzy. He stood up to get me a cup of water since it felt like the Sahara Desert in my mouth with all that dry air in the hospital, but the nurse ended up getting HIM one while I waited for the wheelchair to take me to my L and D room. He took his tie off per the nurse's request and sat down outside the observation room with a cup of cold water until they had me all cleaned the blood off my skin and threw away anything with my blood on it. While they started me on a hydration drip, a midwife came to talk to us- Tom Morrison. I was thrown for a loop when a man walked in the door and introduced himself as The Midwife. I mean DUH, Rebekah! It was just such a stretch for me to think of a man being something I'd only ever associated with women. Hahahaha!! It still cracks me up!
They brought the wheelchair, took me to the room and hooked me all up to the machines and started me on Petocin for induction. I then had Lars go to his mom's house to check on Jonathan and to change out of his church clothes and hurry and get back to the hospital.
Now I'm sure you all know that I had a terrible allergic reaction to the epidural with Jonathan, so this entire time I was pregnant I didn't really have a problem with doing it naturally (since I was nearly a 7 when I got the epi the first time), up until the first night I had Braxton-Hicks (4 days before I delivered). All the sudden naturally didn't seem so ok. I tried to brush it off, but the contractions started coming faster than I antisipated, especially since I was waiting for the anestisiologist on call (turns out there were 4 on call that day). The anestisilogist wanted to call the other hospital to see if she could get my medical report about my reactions, since she couldn't really pinpoint what specifically caused my hives and burning in my veins.
As I was waiting, another anestisiologist came in and she was pretty assertive, but hard to understand in her thick Asian accent. But she was adamant that I get an epidural. She told me we'd figure it out as we went, but she wasn't going to let me do an induction without pain meds. And rightly so. The contractions were coming faster than I had antisipated, and after watching this lame channel on cable, I was wearing thin on laboring by myself. I kept calling Larry and there was no answer. Finally, he picked up. By the time Larry actually got to the hosptial, it felt like a year had passed and I was in serious pain. I had Lars rub my temples while I breathed through them and flipped on the tv that had a peaceful music channel). Lars was asked to leave for a half hour during the epidurl procedure (new hospital procedure due to a HORRIFIC accident that happened). It took 3 attempts in different locations for the dr. to put it in my spine without me yelping in pain. She was getting frustrated, and said "How odd. You feel that? Boy, you super sensitive lady!" She also put in an order for a dose of Benedryl to be injected into my IV every 4 hours, which I was grateful for.
Larry came back up to check on me and I sent him back to Gramma's to feed Jonathan and bring him back to our place to nap in his crib. (He doesn't sleep anywhere but in his bed or carseat.) I slept most of the time (minus waking a bit when I was contrating). It was pretty nice. But when the contractions started coming stronger, I called Larry to come back and be with me. I was getting freaked out being alone. So he dropped the Peanut off at Gramma's again and came to nap on the room's couch by me.
It was surreal. I was just sleeping, trying to remember to roll back and forth to keep the epidural spread through out my body. Pretty peaceful, especially because I finally had company. It was so much easier to be calm with his presence in the room.
Finally around 6 pm, my contractions were getting very, very strong and the epidural was starting to wear off a bit. I told the nurse in slurred speech that it was getting overly hard to try to sleep and I was feeling A LOT of pressure with each contraction. She made a call and another nurse came in they chatted for moment and called Tom. He came and checked me. "Wow, you've got another cemtimeter to go!" The nurses sprung into action and tables came out of nowhere and shiny intruments and bowls were prepped and set out on surgical cloths. I tried hard not to watch it all. Seeing all that stuff for a split second made my stomach turn over so I squeezed my eyes shut. Three more nurses came in to dress Tom in delivery garb and set up the baby table.
Once Tom was all dressed, he checked me again and I was ready. They pulled the table apart and I shifted down to the end of the bed. Lars held my hand and all I heard was, "When you feel a contraction, bear down hard. PUSH!" I could hear Lars ask if the nurse could see any hair. "Umm, no. But it's a little early to tell." With lots of encouragement and direction, Avonlea was out in 6 pushes. She officially arrived at 6:50 pm. When she came out, Tom asked Lars if he wanted to cut the cord. Lars looked at me and I asked him if he wanted to and said he didn't have to if he didn't want to. Relief flooded his face as he turned back to the doctor and said, "No. I'm good." She cried twice as she sucked in air to breathe for the first time and then was quiet and curious, just like her brother.
The cord was cut and the nurse placed her directly on my belly and told me to touch her and bond with her. Disoriented, I touched her tiny head with the edge of my right hand by my thumb. Tiny and blue, she was sticky. It grossed me out. I felt bad about thinking that, but I couldn't bring myself to touch her again. She was whisked to the table on the left side of the room and cleaned up, weighed and given to Lars, while I was put back together by the doctor. When I was able to hold her, she looked so foreign to me, a lot like Larry. It was diffecult to gasp the fact I'd just had a baby. A little over 10 hours start to finish. A piece of cake really, which i was ever so grateful for!
Lars spent the rest of the time holding her while I recovered from the numbness in my body before I was checked into the Postpartum Recovery Ward. He was capitvated by her. She was itty bitty and perfect.
The nurse who came to check us into the Recovery ward informed us that Avonlea was the ONLY baby born that evening. The rest had been born that morning and early afternoon and the other women who came in around the same time as me and just after me were still laboring. Now that's pretty cool.
Welcome to the world, Avonlea.
Saturday, July 24, 2010
Sunday, July 11, 2010
To start, I saw an ad for a a diaper cake on Craigslist while searching for things while pregnant with my son. And Oh! I wanted one SO BAD!! I'd never heard of anything so awesome before! Needless to say, I didn't get one. (Boo hoo. I got over it.) I wanted to get one for my girlfriend's shower I was throwing and my sister Rae and I scoured the internet to find one that was affordable with shipping. Simply put, there wasn't one. So we set to work on trying to find tutorials.
That was SUPER hard, too! Finally, Rae found a really good one on youtube. I watched it over and over and over again. Then I decided to check out the other ones on there to see if I liked them better. Some were not how I liked it, but I did glean some fabulous ideas. *If you make one, don't watch the videos that are less than 6 minutes long. They're ads for selling diaper cakes.*
After rounding up the things I needed to make the diaper cake, I discovered that it was more expensive to make it myself than order one. But I couldn't go back. I was on a mission. And seriously, I was so hyped up about it, there was NO WAY I was going back and returning all that stuff. I can't even remember how may stores I had to go to to get supplies that worked for me. What can I say, I'm a perfectionist. (A.k.a. Picky little snot.)
I did make a step-by-step photo tutorial, but my camera died half way through, so what you see here are the finished product from all angles. It took 5 hours for me to make, what with a toddler running around and being extremely pregnant and not able to sit in a hard wooden chair for more than an hour at a time (even though I did).
Left back side
I stuffed it full of goodies. I'm glad I'd picked these up, since I was short some diapers to make it full enough at the bottom, so it worked out. This is the bottom layer. I put lots of goodies in it, booties, teethers, baby bath products, and wash cloths to fill it out.
The second layer I rolled onesies to fill it out because once again I didn't have enough diapers. I had just enough to make sure it was all filled. The top layer was all diapers.
The diaper cake I made and the big gifts that wouldn't fit on the gift table.
Gift table (more gifts were stacked on the floor).
I LOVE this expression. With the generosity of many of the women in our ward, I was able to order Mary's car seat and expedite it in time for the shower for her group gift. I caught the look right as she opened it!!
Kellie put together the little things we talked about and it was perfect. A guessing game...
And my baby turned 20 whole months old. *sigh*
Thursday, July 8, 2010
A couple weeks ago: Jonathan has finally gotten comfortable to sleep on Dad on his way into the apartment to the crib. He's been doing it like a pro the last month and a half or so.
Last week, Jonathan got ahold of a permanent marker... for the SECOND time in the last couple months. Only this time he turned himself into a canvas...
Jonathan started to ONLY play with his toy container. Toys scatter and he's in and out of it all day long. SUCH a funny boy. I love his antics. I don't think there is a more wonderful child in the entire world!!
So our bath caddy died the terrible death- soap spilled ALL OVER inside and even though it said it was water and soap proof, it wasn't. After running the faucet for over and hour and trying to remove the soap, I gave up because after I flipped it over to empty out the water, I discovered black mold growing on it. So I went to the 99 cent store and bought a giant salad bowl and a colander for the toys to drain into. I decided to give them to Jonathan to play with and they've been a BIG hit! Sometimes you have to pick your battles and in this case, plastic containers aren't worth it. XD
Last Thursday morning, Jonathan pulled out a box of one of his infant toys. I'd decided a couple days before that we should build it up again because it transitions into a rocker for toddlers. Since the boy pulled it out right after he had his morning diaper change, Lars set to work putting it together. Lars even let Jonathan have his Coleman for some supervised "help". I ran to grab the camera...
After the rocker was all put together and Jonathan had breakfast, we put in Blue's Clues. If only life could be this easy...
Ever since we took our short trip to Idaho in Mid-May, Jonathan has been practicing sitting up at the table at Gramma's when he eats and drinks. He learned by watching his cousin Jonas in Idaho (who's just seven months older than him). I was doing some cleaning in the kitchen when I turned around and Jonathan was half way up into his own booster. Lars gave him a banana in half, first time not cut up into pieces. And he ate it all, like a PRO! I couldn't believe how big my boy has become. Seriously, I Lars wasn't home, I doubt I would've even realized how ready Jonathan is to be a big brother. He's been capable for so long, but I've been keeping him a baby. *sigh* But OH! I'm SO proud of him!!
Monday this week, Lars set to work baby-proofing the rest of our place so we could take the kitchen gates down. Jonathan "helping" with Daddy's magnetic screwdriver (the head is removed and is squared-shaped so he wouldn't stab anything or get hurt).