In The Dark Of The Night

The story from Shem's perspective. (As narrated by his wife):

I was asleep. Dead asleep. I don't play around with sleep. In fact, I've been known to sleep whilst doing things that normal people only do when they're awake. (Walk, talk, feed babies, fight bad guys, etc.) That's how seriously I take this sleeping thing. I was dreaming peacefully when suddenly, and from out of nowhere I was rudely awakened by my wife who was apparently having a nightmare and/or a severe seizure in the middle of our bed. Arms flailing at terrifying speed, and with zero accuracy, she was frantically swatting every inch of bed (and me) that she could reach. I quickly assessed the situation and came to the sleepy conclusion that she was having a nightmare and it was spilling over into reality, causing her to try and kill me. I grabbed her arms and said (in what I hoped was a reassuring voice, but probably sounded more like a sleepy mumble), "Babe. Hey. Babe. It's okay. You're dreaming." She stopped flailing and continued to paw through the sheets like she was looking for something.

"No, babe. There is a bug."

"There's no bug," (I was quickly becoming more awake and slightly amused by the situation. A sleepy grin spread across my face.) "You're having a nightmare,"

"No, babe. There is a bug."

Yeah. She was dreaming. I stared at her. She continued, "I swear I'm not sleeping. A huge bug just crawled across my arm. We have to find it. It was enormous."

She sounded awake. I peered, bleary eyed, through the very bug-free sheets. After our thorough investigation revealed no lurking crawler, I reached my conclusion: She had dreamed it. I looked up at her.

She gave a sleepy half-laugh, "There is no way I dreamed that." Pause. "Did I dream that?" Pause, "I think I dreamed that,"

We laughed for a few good minutes about her insanity and then drifted off to sleep.

THE NEXT MORNING:

I had to pee.

I went to pee.

I found a dead water bug in my underpants.

Never again will I doubt my wife's sanity.

Playing Catch-Up

As I sit here, munching my extra fiber oatmeal (delicious and nutritious. I highly recommend it. Yay healthy colon!) it comes to my attention that it has been many moons since last I blogged and I feel as though I need to update the blogger world on my comings and goings. Weight loss, weight gain, weight stagnation, battles with chocolate, becoming obsessed with Psych, having major life-altering paradigm shifts, starting work...these adventures must be shared.

I blog in lists a lot. I love lists. I'm really, really dorky about lists. So. That being said, here we go:

1. Started work.

Food-Ex. It's the stuff. For those of you who aren't acquainted with my history with Food-Ex, I will provide a brief synopsis. I graduated in 2007. Darron Nilson, Food-Ex's most illustrious owner, talked to me about starting a position there. Ever since then, I have left and returned thrice. I really kind of like this job. I mean, it isn't glorious or anything (far from when we're delivering from El Portal and come back swimming in Chile Verde. It's hard to bathe out that smell. And poor Suzie. (my car) The stench is something awful.) BUT I love driving. I love listening to music. I love setting the food up. (I'm a weirdo about making things look organized and pretty) and I love the hours because I get more time with my son. And I kind of like him.

2. Stopped losing weight.

I. Hate. My. New. Metabolism. I mean, it's never been easy for me to lose weight...mostly because it's not easy for me to stop eating. ;) But last time I lost a ton of weight, all I did was cut out sugar and start running. Okay. No. I'm actually realizing I'm lying. I also cut out white flour and most starches and fatty meats and added lots of nuts, leafy greens and such. But the thing is, those habits became so well established that I still (mostly) eat that way. I try to eat more veggies than anything else and I've cut out sweets all together. Granted, exercise has yet to become a regular part of my routine. I'm still figuring out my kid's schedule (that he doesn't have...let's be honest) and how to work in a work out (see what I did there? Yay words!) around it. Wow. You're gonna have to read that last sentence like four times before it makes sense. Apologies. Anywhoo...as I'm writing this I'm realizing why I'm not losing weight. I need to start working out and I need to improve my eating just a smidge and I need to keep on keepin' on. Wish me luck!

3. Bought new pants.

This wasn't very exciting. And there is no story behind it. But it's the first new item of clothing I've been able to afford since about a year before I got married. So. About two years. Yay math! Granted, they are work pants. But still. I got to see the inside of a dressing room. They haven't changed much over time.

4. Shem changed jobs.

This is probably the most exciting of all the updates. Shem quit Verizon and started work as an Administrative Assistant/Spanish Translator for an attorney here in town. He's been there about a week and he LOVES it so far. He says it's far, far busier than Verizon was, but he likes that he's constantly working because it makes time go by faster and makes him feel like he's accomplished something by the end of the day. The best part about this new job is that he is getting paid the same amount monthly that he was getting paid working full time at Verzion, but now he only works 25 hours a week. This will be PERFECT for next semester when he starts school. This job was a HUGE blessing. A shout-out to Brianne for the tip.

5. My boy just woke up and wants to eat or something. So I'll have to resume this list at a later date. But I think 4 updates are quite enough to be going on with for now.

Sometimes I Hate Loving

Why do I have to love so many people? Why do they all have to be so spread apart and all in different parts of the world?

I'm homesick for Utah.

I know, I know...the grass is always greener. And honestly, I would NOT be doing well in Utah. I don't know how I would even be functioning. Being here has been the biggest blessing of all time. I have so much support and love here from family and friends and I just can't imagine raising this boy without all of this help. So I'm not saying I wish I had stayed there, but I do wish I could pick up and take a week long trip there.

I miss everyone there so much.

I miss Sarah and Marie and Jana. I didn't get to play with them as often as I should have, but being there briefly was long enough to make me realize how much I love them and I LOVE hanging out with them. I cherish the times we had together. They threw me a 21st birthday party seven days after I'd gotten to Provo and didn't know anyone or have anything to do that day. Jana's birthday is the day after mine, so she threw us a combined party. How amazing is it that she was willing to share that day with me? I just love those girls. All three of them. There are few people in this world who can make me laugh so hard my abs hurt, but almost every time we play, I leave feeling like I've had a good work-out. I love their taste in music and movies and books. I love how Sarah laughs. I love how Marie tells stories. I love how Jana throws parties. I love how they all kind of took me under their wing while I was transitioning from here to there. And I miss them.

I miss Kyla. She's sort of a soul sister of mine. Our friendship was some sort of weird destiny. It had to be. She's one of those people in my life that I KNOW was put there for a reason. Our meeting was just so beautifully bizarre. I love that girl. She is one of the kindest, most giving people you will ever know. You have to consider yourself blessed to have that girl in your life. My heart literally breaks for missing her so badly. =(

I miss Shem's family. I can't even name them all individually because there are just so many that I miss. But I do. I miss them. I miss driving down to Bountiful on Sundays and visiting with them.

I miss Jake and Shana. I'm sad we haven't met their newest little girl and they haven't been able to meet Luke.

I miss BYU. I miss being a Cougar. I miss that life that I almost had. I miss the mountains and the fall weather.

I miss my roommates; Melissa, Camille and Siara. I miss our late-night talks.

I miss Raintree. I miss hanging out until all hours of the night and being silly with strangers who come over to our apartment just because they want to be social.

I miss that life.

Don't get me wrong...I am SO happy. So, so happy with my life. I am head-over-heels in love with my husband. I am absolutely smitten with Luke. I love where we are. But every once in a while, my heart aches for that life we almost had. The one where we finished school in Utah. Shem at UVU and me at BYU. The one where we had a little more money and a little more time to be just us.

And then I see my little boy...my perfect little boy who I know is supposed to be here now and is my pride and joy....and I feel awful for missing that life. I feel so guilty for having this little part of me that wonders what it would have been like if our plans had turned out the way we hoped they would.

I just need to remind myself that this is my truth. This is my life. This is my son. And I wouldn't trade him for anything in the world. And I wouldn't trade where I am and being around the family and friends that I have. I am so grateful for them. I am so grateful for this place and these people. These are the people who made my heart ache when I was in Provo. I missed them so much. And see...this is why sometimes I hate loving so much. Why does it always have to hurt?

I guess it's not the loving that I hate. It's the missing that I hate. It's the miles that separate us that I hate.

So, I have a plan. Everyone that I love needs to agree upon a location and just move there. Capiche?

What a blessing to love so many people so much that I wish I could split myself into a million pieces and be with everyone all the time. It really is a wonder that our hearts can get so big.

So. I'll take suggestions for locations. Ready? Go.

2 Weeks and a Certain Amount of Post-Partum Weight-Loss Later....

Things I love about not being pregnant any more:
1. Having this baby in my arms.
Yeah. This is pretty much the best part of it. He's my favorite new thing. I'm still twitter-pated. I am obsessed. I'm obsessed with singing to him and talking to him and making him dance the Macarena (because I'm the coolest mom ever) and taking pictures of him and giving him so many kisses that he spits up just to get a break from all the lovin' and telling him how beautiful he is and letting him hold my pinky and nursing him and all that jazz.

2. Losing weight like a mad, mad fiend.
Never in my life have I dropped poundage this rapidly. It's the bees knees. All I've done is cut out sugar and it's like, 'WHABAM!' Yup. Whabam.

3. No more swelling.
I enjoy being un-puffy.

4. BENDING!
You just can't understand the joy of picking things up until you haven't been able to for a good several months.

5. Getting out and wearing some of my favorite 'not pregnant people' outfits.
It was like Christmas going through that box. Oh the outfits!

6. Being able to eat a normal amount of food and not hungering for more after feasting ravenously.
I love feeling full!

Okay, that's it for my list. Here's how the first two weeks went:

DAY ONE
Ouch. Ouch, ouch, ouch. Couldn't move. Couldn't sleep. Much anxiety about my brand-new, very tiny baby child whom I loved more than I could stand. He was terrifying. It is absolutely THE most unnerving thing to love something so vulnerable. His fragility plus lack of sleep equaled a certain amount of insanity. Also, my hatred of hospitals began during the first day of his life.

DAY TWO
Ouch. Pain continued. Worsened slightly. I struggled to get out of bed and was bleeding more than I felt was reasonable. This was a dark day. A dark, dark day. They wouldn't release us after the fist 24 hours (thanks to the crummy hospital pediatrician that I can't even talk about lest I start crying. We hated him. All three of us.) so we were stuck in that same room again and I'd gotten no sleep because hospitals don't let you sleep. Apparently they think that it's okay for brand-new families to be disturbed every hour on the hour. Day two was marked by many tears and the beginning of my insanity.

DAY THREE
Finally we were released and home. But I was still losing my mind due to lack of sleep. Bouts of crying fits continued. Nightly. I would just dissolve into hysteric tears. I had anxiety attacks about my baby dying and other such irrational calamities like Shem getting into a horrific car accident and being hospitalized or dead. It was bad. Bad. Also, there was much pain.

DAY FOUR
I reached my limit this day. I was either sobbing or choking back tears from the moment we got up. The baby had nights and days completely mixed up and I hadn't gotten more than 2 or 3 hours of sleep since labor had started five days previously. That night, I asked my dad to refer me to a therapist. I was convinced that I was literally losing my mind. To my dad's credit, he didn't laugh. He just explained that I was suffering from sleep deprivation and that the cure was simple: I needed sleep. So, I went home and did what? Oh yeah, dissolved into torrents of sobs and told Shem that I thought I was losing my marbles. He is amazing! Have I ever told you guys that?? My husband is amazing. He gave me one of the sweetest blessings I've ever, ever gotten. That night, for the first time since going into labor, I slept for long enough to regain some of my sanity.

DAY FIVE
Day five was excellent because of the sleep I'd gotten the night before. This was the first time since he was born that I was really able to enjoy my little boy. My anxiety about him disappeared and I was becoming more accustomed to the new tasks I had and was loving loving him. But that night was a rough one and I hadn't gotten enough sleep in that one night to make it okay that I was up with him all night.

DAY SIX
Another rough day in which I thought I was on the fast track to crazy town. That night, a miracle occurred. My wonderful cousin, Shannon, who has a 2-year old little boy, brought me some things of hers that literally changed out lives. She brought a swing and a breast pump. She brought a great many other things as well, but those are the two things we'll focus on because they are largely the reason that I sit here today...alive. First of all, I started pumping and Shem agreed to give him a bottle at some point in the night. Second of all, Luke LOVES that swing. Loves it. He sleeps in it. Soundly. So this was another night in which I was able to sleep. And THEN my husband showed the world once again what a gallant, sexy, wonderful, amazing man he is by creating a schedule that goes thusly: He takes the first half of the night armed with a bottle and patience and stays up with our little boy until around 1:30 or 2:00. He feeds him and then puts him down at which point Luke then usually (usually) sleeps for another 2 or 3 hours and I wake up around 3:30 or 4:00 (sometimes even as late as 5:00) and am usually up with him for the rest of the night unless he goes back to sleep after I feed him in which case, he likes to sleep in. SO. Starting this night (with only a few exceptions) I have gotten anywhere from 5-8 hours of sleep. AAAAAmazing. Seriously. I feel SO much better these days. And granted, my sleep is usually interrupted and spacey and isn't always the deepest sleep, but compared to the fog I was in the few days after giving birth, this is NOTHING. I am so blessed.

The following few days have been very enjoyable for the most part. We've had our ups and downs and occasional gassy nights, but on those days, I've got a wonderful mother and sisters who watch him while I take naps. We also have amazing people in our ward who have brought us meals and have checked up on us. We've been so blessed. And life is so good. Thank you all for your prayers and help and well-wishes. We are doing VERY well. =)

How I Got The Cuteness out of Me

This is Luke. He is pretty much my favorite thing in the entire universe. I'm a little tiny bit obsessed with him. He makes faces. He LOVES nursing. He sleeps a lot. And poops. And cries. And is absolutely lovely. Here's how he came into the world:

Tuesday, the 23rd was a normal day in the life of 10 month pregnant Alicia. I went to bed that night, excited for the next day which was my due date and doctor's appointment. I had high hopes that my 'false labor' from Sunday had moved things along and I'd find out I was really close to meeting my little boy. Little did I know how close I actually was.

2:30AM the morning of the 24th, I woke up with horrific contractions and immediately knew that this was no ordinary contraction. Looking back on it, I'm pretty sure I must have slept through the majority of early labor and was only awakened when I was in the throws of full-blown active labor. Shem, who had stayed up late that night having no idea what that next day would bring, was awakened by me after I'd gone to the bathroom and had some DEFINITE sure signs that I was in labor. (I will spare you the gory details) We talked for a bit and I decided I needed to let him sleep for another little while so that he could have the energy to go through the next however many hours of labor with me. So I labored on my own for an hour or so. It was the worst pain I've ever felt in my entire life, but I was so excited about it that every contraction was easy to think and breathe through. I also took a shower which helped a ton.

Around 3:30, labor had gotten to the point where I really needed my coach, so I got Shem up again and we finished packing up some things for the hospital and called labor and delivery. They told us what we should watch for before coming in, and I knew that I was already to that point. We decided we'd leave for the hospital at 5:30. Got to Memorial around 6:00AM and by this point, I'd thrown up about a million times and was shaking uncontrollably. Labor was really rough on my body. My mind was handling the contractions fairly well still, but my body was going into some form of shock. It took what felt like forever to get checked into triage. In the time it took us to get checked in, my contractions were coming fast and furious and I thought I was about to die. My mind was beginning to react poorly to labor in addition to my body reacting poorly. At this point, Shem became the most excellent resource I had. He was the best coach of all time.

Finally, around 7:30, I was checked for the first time and the nurse gave me a shocked look, "When did you go into labor?"

"2:30 this morning."

"Holy crap, girl, you're at a 7 already." (That was an exact quote. The triage nurse was an exciting character)

So we started calling family. Shem talked to my sister-in-law, Mylinda, who is a labor and delivery nurse in Bountiful. She offered the BIGGEST saving grace of all time which was a technique where Shem would push on me knees during contractions. I have no idea why that was as miraculous as it was, but I'm convinced it's the only thing that got me through the next hour. I was still shaking and vomiting regularly and was fairly miserable.

Upon hearing that I was already a 7, my mom rushed to the hospital. She arrived right as the nurses in labor and delivery were giving me some pain meds through my IV to tide me over before the epidural. That stuff? Amazing. I thought I would hate it, but I absolutely did not hate it in any way. It definitely didn't take the pain away, but it calmed my body and mind and I was able to relax in between contractions. It was also nice to have it while they administered the epidural, because I hardly remember feeling anything during the epidural procedure.

Once the epidural had taken effect, I dozed a ton and was SO relieved and grateful for that medication. However, it did come at a price. My labor, which was ridiculously fast for a first baby, slowed down to almost no progression. I would have been discouraged by that, but I was too busy relishing in the relief that the epidural brought. It was definitely a trade-off, but I didn't mind the price. They, unfortunately, had to administer Pitocen to get my labor moving again and I didn't love that because I really was hoping to do this whole thing without Pitocen, but I knew it was part of the price I'd paid to have the relief from pain.

I did feel bad that my mom had rushed to the hospital early that morning, though, because for the next 5 hours, I stayed stubbornly stuck at a 7. Eventually, it slowly started to move and around 5:30, they finally had the doctor come in and break my water because my bag was too thick to break on its own. After the water broke, it was time to push.

That was 2 hours of the hardest work I've ever done. I had all kinds of unhappy things happen to me due to the size of the baby (which was fairly large) and the size of..well..me (which is apparently very tiny), but eventually and happily, my son was born at 8:08 without the need of any sort of vacuum or forceps assistance. It was a miracle. My recovery was going to be very not fun, but I was okay with that because he'd been born how I was hoping he would be. The doctor was awesome. He was such a good coach and it wasn't until the baby was out that he told me he had been thinking from the beginning that this baby was going to have to come via C-section because of how tiny I was. But he said I was such a good pusher that he was able to deliver me. It made me feel like I'd done really well and that it was ME that had brought this little one here. Most satisfying experience of my life.

There were things about the experience I loved and things I will definitely try to change for the next birth, but overall, it was an amazing experience and the end result? Well, you saw the picture.

On: Being Perpetually Pregnant

Okay, to be fair, my due date isn't until Wednesday, so I'm not even technically 'late' or anything. In fact, even if (when) I go past my due date I'm not technically 'late' until 42 weeks. (yeaaaah like I'm gonna last for 42 weeks.) That being said, however, I will say this: I've just discovered that the most obnoxious event in a first time mother's journey to delivery is: false labor.

Yesterday morning I woke up feeling strange. Slightly nauseated, a little dizzy, just generally 'off'. I didn't think much of it until we got to church at 9 and the feeling of 'offness' increased greatly. At 9:10, I started having contractions. No biggy. I get them all the time. Sometimes I get them one on top of the other, sometimes they're few and far between, but I get them every single day at least 4 or 5 times; usually more. But there was something different about these contractions. I couldn't quite put my finger on it, but for some reason, they felt like they were somehow accomplishing something significant. So at about 9:25, after I'd had three in what felt like a consistent amount of time, I started timing them. Sure enough, every five minutes like clock-work I was having a contraction that lasted for about a minute.

These contractions weren't super painful. They were just 'uncomfortable'. So, I kept timing them, but tried not to get my hopes up. For the next hour, they stayed steady. Shem and I decided to head home after sacrament meeting because I still wasn't feeling 100% and the contractions were consistent enough that I wanted to be able to go home and start walking to see if I could get them to come stronger.

We came to my parent's house (air conditioning. It's the stuff) and I paced a little. For another 20-30 minutes, they remained consistent and a couple of them were even border-line 'painful'...but I knew they were nothing like what I'd be feeling in active labor.

And then the pattern shifted. The contractions were longer and less frequent until finally...nothin'. 18 minutes of nothin'. I was so depressed. They never completely went away. They stayed all day long...sometimes non-stop...but they were never regular again. I walked and walked and walked and walked and contracted and contracted and contracted, but I knew at that point it wasn't the real deal and that this boy would be staying in me for another little while. Part of me still held hope that I'd go into labor in the middle of the night since I'd literally been having contractions for 11 hours...but no such luck. No contractions even woke me up. (yay for good sleep! boo for no baby) And so far today? My uterus is the epitome of calm.

Daaaaang. Dang.

BUT! I will say this: though they didn't send me into labor and delivery, the contractions seemed to have helped move my little Luke down a considerable amount. There has definitely been progress made. I don't think that means he'll be here today or even tomorrow...he might be stuck in there for another week for all I know...but it does mean that things are moving and progressing and that my body works. Hooray! Here's hoping we get to meet him in the next couple of days!!

Large.

How I wish I wore pregnancy:

How I actually wear pregnancy:

Hot.