Our family blog asked us about things that makeis smile no matter what. This is one of mine. Korrali sure has cute smile.
Tuesday, June 4, 2013
Saturday, June 1, 2013
One week, by the barenaked ladies
Fair warning: this post contains details that may be tmi, and may include allusions to clotheslessness.
When I was in highschool I loved this Canadian band for their creative rhymes and clean lyrics... And catchy tunes. I also enjoy putting my own lyrics to songs. These last three weeks have been tough, as any first time mother can attest, just when you think you have something figured out, something new comes up. Sometimes they come before you have it figured too. Just when I felt confident in nursing (we were overcoming some issues) and just when she was getting to be a pro latcher, whammo, mastitis. Then, the inevitable thrush, and naturally, yeast for me. It's been a while since I felt like breaking into spontaneous song, but with recovery going on and K mewing in her sleep beside me I feel like music....
This song seemed appropriate
It's been two weeks since I looked at me
Bowed my head to my chest and prayed
'Soon, yeast free'
Five days since we nursed again
I worried your skills you'd forgotten
One day since you latched with ease
But it'll still be a while til you're thrush-free
Clickity-clink the ACs blowin
Outside the window the mowers mowin
The dog is whining
The sun is shining
And it's seven in the morning
Think I might scream
But use the cream
Though three seems
Like more hassle than its worthwhile
Ignore the pain,
The milk stains,
Cuz the main
Thing is to keep on believing
How can I help but hold you close to me?
Your smiles and sighs are so cute, so comforting
I guess soon enough this will be over with
Then we'll get to see what trial is next
It's been one week since I stopped the pump
Dealt with clogged ducts and hoped
It'd finish up
Four days since I ditched my shirt
Grabbed a towel and just mopped it all up
Six hours since I soaked a sheet
But it'll still be a while til your mouth is thrush-free
Ringring ringring my alarm is buzzing
It's one am and my eyesight's fuzzing
I hate to wake you
But I take you
To the kitchen for our medicine
You hate the tAste
And in my haste
You eject
It all over both of us
How can I help but hold you close to me?
Your grunts and coos are so sweet, so charming
I guess soon enough this will be done with
Then we will get to see what trial is next
It's been one week since your projectile vomit
The stuff was all over a friend
and your outfit
Three days since you've been quite adamant
Carseat sleeping or our arms only will do the trick
Two nights where you slept all night
But it'll still be a while til your mouth is thrush-free
still be a while til your mouth is thrush-free
Thanks for humoring me!
When I was in highschool I loved this Canadian band for their creative rhymes and clean lyrics... And catchy tunes. I also enjoy putting my own lyrics to songs. These last three weeks have been tough, as any first time mother can attest, just when you think you have something figured out, something new comes up. Sometimes they come before you have it figured too. Just when I felt confident in nursing (we were overcoming some issues) and just when she was getting to be a pro latcher, whammo, mastitis. Then, the inevitable thrush, and naturally, yeast for me. It's been a while since I felt like breaking into spontaneous song, but with recovery going on and K mewing in her sleep beside me I feel like music....
This song seemed appropriate
It's been two weeks since I looked at me
Bowed my head to my chest and prayed
'Soon, yeast free'
Five days since we nursed again
I worried your skills you'd forgotten
One day since you latched with ease
But it'll still be a while til you're thrush-free
Clickity-clink the ACs blowin
Outside the window the mowers mowin
The dog is whining
The sun is shining
And it's seven in the morning
Think I might scream
But use the cream
Though three seems
Like more hassle than its worthwhile
Ignore the pain,
The milk stains,
Cuz the main
Thing is to keep on believing
How can I help but hold you close to me?
Your smiles and sighs are so cute, so comforting
I guess soon enough this will be over with
Then we'll get to see what trial is next
It's been one week since I stopped the pump
Dealt with clogged ducts and hoped
It'd finish up
Four days since I ditched my shirt
Grabbed a towel and just mopped it all up
Six hours since I soaked a sheet
But it'll still be a while til your mouth is thrush-free
Ringring ringring my alarm is buzzing
It's one am and my eyesight's fuzzing
I hate to wake you
But I take you
To the kitchen for our medicine
You hate the tAste
And in my haste
You eject
It all over both of us
How can I help but hold you close to me?
Your grunts and coos are so sweet, so charming
I guess soon enough this will be done with
Then we will get to see what trial is next
It's been one week since your projectile vomit
The stuff was all over a friend
and your outfit
Three days since you've been quite adamant
Carseat sleeping or our arms only will do the trick
Two nights where you slept all night
But it'll still be a while til your mouth is thrush-free
still be a while til your mouth is thrush-free
Thanks for humoring me!
Monday, May 20, 2013
Grandpa's visit (don't tell grandma!)
Grandpa Quillen called yesterday to ask what we were doing that evening. Turns out he was in Mississippi, which we all know is just a hop, skip, and a jump away from Chicago. (Ya right) but grandpa drove up to see sweet Korrali. Here are some pics.
Also. Here are some pictures of Korrali at church in her first Sunday dress that was bought courtesy of grandma Henderson. Enjoy!
Wednesday, May 15, 2013
First day at church!
Here is sweet Korrali's first day at church. Look how well she's paying attention to the speaker!
Sunday, May 12, 2013
Tuesday, May 7, 2013
There and back again: A Hospital Tale
Now that my body has adjusted to thinking three consecutive hours of sleep is a well rested night, I find that I actually have energy to blog. So, starting at the beginning...
Sunday, April 14 I went to church and almost immediately began having regular, uncomfortable contractions. I sat through most of church, and by third block I couldn't focus on anything but the intense pain that shot around my left side every five minutes. We left church, I ate something, rested, walked around.... And the contractions stopped. Whew. Just in time for our dinner date with a wonderful family in the ward. The car ride over started them up again, but I was able to walk them off again.
Of course the next few days I felt like a bomb waiting to go off. And car rides became increasingly uncomfortable.
My sister arrived to hang out with us, and I called my mom to ask her to come a few days early so JD could pick her up because I was no longer equal to riding in the car. Saturday, April 20 arrived cold and sunny after two days of pouring rain. We went to go help clean up the aftermath of some pretty bad flooding in our ward area. (one of the benefits of having a sister just back from her mission visit is she would rather be put to work than sit around doing nothing at home). We hung out at home the rest of the day, and my mom arrived at 5 and my husband went to pick her up. Immediately upon arrival at our apartment she made us dinner ( she's pretty much amazing like that). At 6 I started feeling contractions again, so I started to time them, but was determined not to get excited after Sunday, in fact I was rather annoyed at having two false starts. The contractions continued while we watched The Life of Pi, beautiful film btw, and were starting to get more insistent. We went to bed. I couldn't sleep because I was too uncomfortable. I turned to J and said, "even if this isn't the real thing,I think I'd better call the on just in case." He agreed and so I called to report seven minutes apart and thirty seconds long at about 11 pm. It's amazing how fast hours go by when they are broken into 7 minute intervals. I decided I wanted to soak in the warm tub, so we filled the tub and I crawled in while J continued to time. We called again around 2 am to hear we should head to the hospital. We left around 3 and arrived at the birth unit to be received by really nice nurses, we got put in a room with a birthing tub, and the nurse hooked me up to IV antibiotics then checked me to the welcome tune of 90 percent effaced 4 centimeters dilated with baby at a negative one station. I hung out on the bed with the IV and fetal monitor for what felt like hours before our doula arrived, but what I'm sure was probably less than an hour. My amazing J was right th the whole time as I was getting more and more intensely focused on breathing through the contractions. The doula arrived just as I was unable to relax, and she gave me a lavender foot massage... Which helped immensely. Soon thereafter the midwife arrived, she checked me again but I really didn't care how progressed I was. Although ido remember joking with her about how soon our baby would be born, she said before lunch, and i said " we are planning lunch at 10, right? " beyond that, All i cared about was when I could get into the tub. Eventually they ok'd the tub, and I climbed in. Every step i took increased the discomfort of the contractions. once i was in, though, The jets were amazing. All I remember was the warm water, the jets, my husbands hand squeezing mine, and using vocal sounds to avoid pushing. The need to push was so strong and inescapable that without the constant urging of our doula and midwife not to push I would not have been able to control it. After a few hours I started to feel sick being in the tub, more so than the wave of nausea every time a contraction hit. They helped me out of the tub, and back to the bed where I measured 100 percent effaced and 9.5 centimeters with our girl at a plus one. They had me get up and go to the bathroom, then told me I could start to push. I'd never been so relieved in my life. By this time I'd been begging to push for a while. I pushed and pushed... With the birthing bar, in a semi squat, and then they had me turn on my side to help our baby turn. It felt so good to push. After almost an hour I was so exhausted, but they had me reach down and tough the baby's head.. Which didn't at all rejuvenate my energy. In fact I wanted to tell them I couldn't spare the energy to do it, but I didn't have the energy to tell them. However just a few pushes later out she came and they had me reach down and take her. It was 9:45, and it was the most powerful moment of my life.
Even now remembering how it felt to hold her, I cry. I was exhausted and exultant. A joy and energy totally separate from my bodily fatigue filled me. They let the cord stop pulsing and JD cut it. Meanwhile we were trying to deliver the placenta, which was not fun. They mashed my tummy (ow) and gave me some pitocin (didn't feel any difference at all) and mashed some more (double ow). But finally it came out and I was really and truly done. They let me hold our little girl for almost two hours before weighing her and toweling her off. There was almost no blood or gunk on her at all. She was perfect. She nursed there, and we just rested together.
Our recovery went great, only small micro tears, no stitches needed. No hemmeroids. She had brought the lip of my cervix with her on the way down, but that receded nicely. I couldn't have asked for a more beautiful first birth.
Sunday, April 14 I went to church and almost immediately began having regular, uncomfortable contractions. I sat through most of church, and by third block I couldn't focus on anything but the intense pain that shot around my left side every five minutes. We left church, I ate something, rested, walked around.... And the contractions stopped. Whew. Just in time for our dinner date with a wonderful family in the ward. The car ride over started them up again, but I was able to walk them off again.
Of course the next few days I felt like a bomb waiting to go off. And car rides became increasingly uncomfortable.
My sister arrived to hang out with us, and I called my mom to ask her to come a few days early so JD could pick her up because I was no longer equal to riding in the car. Saturday, April 20 arrived cold and sunny after two days of pouring rain. We went to go help clean up the aftermath of some pretty bad flooding in our ward area. (one of the benefits of having a sister just back from her mission visit is she would rather be put to work than sit around doing nothing at home). We hung out at home the rest of the day, and my mom arrived at 5 and my husband went to pick her up. Immediately upon arrival at our apartment she made us dinner ( she's pretty much amazing like that). At 6 I started feeling contractions again, so I started to time them, but was determined not to get excited after Sunday, in fact I was rather annoyed at having two false starts. The contractions continued while we watched The Life of Pi, beautiful film btw, and were starting to get more insistent. We went to bed. I couldn't sleep because I was too uncomfortable. I turned to J and said, "even if this isn't the real thing,I think I'd better call the on just in case." He agreed and so I called to report seven minutes apart and thirty seconds long at about 11 pm. It's amazing how fast hours go by when they are broken into 7 minute intervals. I decided I wanted to soak in the warm tub, so we filled the tub and I crawled in while J continued to time. We called again around 2 am to hear we should head to the hospital. We left around 3 and arrived at the birth unit to be received by really nice nurses, we got put in a room with a birthing tub, and the nurse hooked me up to IV antibiotics then checked me to the welcome tune of 90 percent effaced 4 centimeters dilated with baby at a negative one station. I hung out on the bed with the IV and fetal monitor for what felt like hours before our doula arrived, but what I'm sure was probably less than an hour. My amazing J was right th the whole time as I was getting more and more intensely focused on breathing through the contractions. The doula arrived just as I was unable to relax, and she gave me a lavender foot massage... Which helped immensely. Soon thereafter the midwife arrived, she checked me again but I really didn't care how progressed I was. Although ido remember joking with her about how soon our baby would be born, she said before lunch, and i said " we are planning lunch at 10, right? " beyond that, All i cared about was when I could get into the tub. Eventually they ok'd the tub, and I climbed in. Every step i took increased the discomfort of the contractions. once i was in, though, The jets were amazing. All I remember was the warm water, the jets, my husbands hand squeezing mine, and using vocal sounds to avoid pushing. The need to push was so strong and inescapable that without the constant urging of our doula and midwife not to push I would not have been able to control it. After a few hours I started to feel sick being in the tub, more so than the wave of nausea every time a contraction hit. They helped me out of the tub, and back to the bed where I measured 100 percent effaced and 9.5 centimeters with our girl at a plus one. They had me get up and go to the bathroom, then told me I could start to push. I'd never been so relieved in my life. By this time I'd been begging to push for a while. I pushed and pushed... With the birthing bar, in a semi squat, and then they had me turn on my side to help our baby turn. It felt so good to push. After almost an hour I was so exhausted, but they had me reach down and tough the baby's head.. Which didn't at all rejuvenate my energy. In fact I wanted to tell them I couldn't spare the energy to do it, but I didn't have the energy to tell them. However just a few pushes later out she came and they had me reach down and take her. It was 9:45, and it was the most powerful moment of my life.
Even now remembering how it felt to hold her, I cry. I was exhausted and exultant. A joy and energy totally separate from my bodily fatigue filled me. They let the cord stop pulsing and JD cut it. Meanwhile we were trying to deliver the placenta, which was not fun. They mashed my tummy (ow) and gave me some pitocin (didn't feel any difference at all) and mashed some more (double ow). But finally it came out and I was really and truly done. They let me hold our little girl for almost two hours before weighing her and toweling her off. There was almost no blood or gunk on her at all. She was perfect. She nursed there, and we just rested together.
Our recovery went great, only small micro tears, no stitches needed. No hemmeroids. She had brought the lip of my cervix with her on the way down, but that receded nicely. I couldn't have asked for a more beautiful first birth.
Saturday, April 27, 2013
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