The Family Room is Done!

So this is what our family room looked like 2 1/2 years ago, right after we put in tile and carpet:

But then if you turned too far to the left, this is what you saw:

Well, this area has stayed like this for the past.......2 years.....?? Yeah. 2 years. We are awesome. BUT NOW, thanks to a really awesome friend of mine, this corner looks like this:

Sigh. Much better.

*Cricket cricket*

Well hello.

You've been quiet for quite some time. Oh wait, that was me being quiet. Quietness is not really something I'm known for. Like, at all. I guess le blog totally fell off le priority list. For a long time.

I'm back, I guess. I kind of like having a place to write ridiculous things because I AM known for being ridiculous.

So here we are. Let's chat. Let's paint each other's nails and play truth or dare. I'll go first. I choooooooooose TRUTH!

Today is my seventh wedding anniversary. SEVEN YEARS. Feels like 2. Feels like my husband and I are growing into each other; growing with each other, intertwined in each other's branches. Feels like we are truly working for the same things and on the same team and speaking the same language for the first time, maybe ever. Feels like our roots are sinking into the soil even further, and he would happily give up some nutrients to make my leaves greener and my branches longer. We are building something here; something ugly and gorgeous and knotted and breathtaking.

Also? I may or may not have thrown out my back. Talk about knotted........

And another thing...

My pinky toe got broken on a baby swing. Just when it was feeling better, Henry left his swing sitting out again annnnnnnnd it got rebroken. 

On the most annoying wounds list, it's pretty far up there. It's just above 'cuticle cracking at the corner of your nail' and right below 'cancher sore'.

This is real

I will break my snoop bloggy blog silence tonight by talking about something that enrages/scares the daylights out of me. Regardez:

And

I cannot believe what is being marketed to young girls these days. Can. Not. 

The first picture I took in a toy aisle whilst looking for a very specific gift for my daughter. They are called Bratz dolls. The huge blue eyes, the teeny nose, the huuuuge unnatural collagen lips, and the stripper makeup is Just. Too. Much. I know these dolls have been around for a while but I don't remember them looking so lady-of-the-night when they first came out. Hooooooow does anyone think that marketing this doll to young girls reinforces anything but negative ideas? I was in disbelief when I saw the ad. 

Picture number two I took in Target. In the girls' section. Ava is one size away from shopping in that section and I was so sad to see one of her favorite cartoon characters (Rainbow Dash) referencing the song Blurred Lines. (If you don't know the song you have probably been living under a rock.)

I'm sad that money comes before morality in marketing to preschoolers, kindergartners, and elementary aged children (I expect it with older age groups). I'm sad that there are 6 year olds that know the song Blurred Lines. I'm sad that there are little girls growing up thinking that they need to have tons of makeup and tiny noses and huge lips to be beautiful. I'm sad that there are parents who buy that crap for their kids. I'm sad that innocence can get lost so young, so easily now. 

And I'm mad. Mama Bear has been awoken. I'm ready for a fight. A big long one where Ava is the winner. 

She is so very beautiful, from the inside out. But it will become so easy for her to forget that. 

Ava's Room

I realized that I have never posted pictures of Ava's awesome room and the awesome bed her daddy made her. Or did I? Whatever. I'm posting them anyway. 

Walking into her room - pink chalkboard wall on the left covered in plus signs inside circles....little concerned about that. 

Her sweeeeet bed (and the "nest" where she sleeps....also concerning):

Books within reach. They ALL end up in her bed at some point. 

And her "stage" (she's making my married dress):

 

With Henry taking 3-4 naps a day in his room and me having moved all my LPM/office stuff into my room upstairs, she will definitely be playing in her room more often (because heaven forbid she be somewhere in the house where I am not). I can't wait to see all the plays she puts on!

Just normal stuffs

Oh, hey blog. How are ya? I'm busy these days.

After I had Ava I overheard a lady in an old ward say something like, "you're not a real mother until you have 2 kids." As you can imagine, I was incensed. I was pretty sure I was a mom....yup I had the physical and emotional scars to prove it (hahaha! I make it sound so traumatic)! I couldn't believe anyone would say such a thing.

And then I had my second kid. Although poorly worded, her comment makes sense to me now. I'm not sure how one tiny little human makes us all suddenly create 5x the laundry......but he has. There's more to be done and to stay on top of it all I have to employ the "leave a room better than you found it" technique and I am becoming a morning person (DUN DUN DUUUUUUUN!!!!). Both of these things, I thought, were against my natural woman. Turns out I just needed the right set of circumstances for these particular changes to happen. These are strange times, my friends. But, I can honestly say that I have never been happier in my life.


Well played, life.

Henry's birth....almost a month later

For those of you who care, here's how Henry's birth went down.

I woke up at 3 am on a Saturday with a contraction, right before my water broke. I thought I just needed to pee (wouldn't be the first time this pregnancy I peed my pants. TMI? Meh.) but after taking care of that business I realized that my water was breaking. I woke Danny up and got ready as my water continued to break. I waddled to the car with a beach towel between my legs and we headed for the hospital (after alerting my sister).

Now. I was all set to do a waterbirth with this little guy buuuuuuut I couldn't because A) the midwives weren't on call and the docs can't do water births (stupid insurance) and B) after my water broke his head was still too high so there would have been a risk of bacterial infection if I had gotten in the water.  So they checked my dilation - I was at a 6! Good job, body! - and then they broke the news to me and offered me a shower room with a shower chair. I took it.

I got out when the contractions really kicked in and headed back to my room. I turned on some super soothing music I had downloaded not even 24 hours before and hummed into my contractions until I felt like I was going to die. About the time I told everyone in the room that I didn't want to do it anymore, I was at a 10 and ready to push. I pushed on all fours.....kind of... and it went so much faster than pushing on my back with Ava. About 15 pushes later, the doc was able to help maneuver Henry out (you don't simply push out babies that are as big as he was). And there he was, in all his chubby, 10 pound 12 ounce glory. All told, it took 5 hours for Henry to make his way into the world.

It is such a surreal moment, meeting your tiny human for the first time. Also? The absolute relief after the baby and the placenta come out is indescribable. I am a huge fan of not being pregnant anymore. And being able to bend over. And sleeping on my stomach. Sigh.

Henry and I chilled for about 45 minutes while the doc stitched me up and I nursed and ate something myself. I lost a lot of blood when I had him because of how big he was but I noticed a lot of blood on the bed in the 45 minutes following the birth. The nurses kept massaging my uterus and I could tell they weren't happy because it wasn't staying firm. My nurse suggested that I go to the bathroom - it could be that a full bladder was to blame. The helped me stand up and I delivered a liver-sized clot and immediately started vomiting. That's when I could tell something was wrong. It got very busy in my room and the doctor came back in.

Now, at this point, I was mentally spent. I had gone through labor and delivery with no drugs and my ability to withstand pain was completely gone. After she had put her hand up inside of me to feel what was going on (so. much. pain.), my doctor continued to deliver more large clots. She then had a nurse fetch her "instruments"and she went in to find the source of the bleeding. The morphine didn't even touch the pain and I'm sure you could hear my screaming from the other end of the unit. Later, what happened became a little more clear.

I have pretty bad varicose veins and they got noticeably worse with this pregnancy. Apparently, there were some bulging varicosities right near all these lady parts and when the doctor removed her retractor she nicked one. I went from clotting to squirting blood everywhere. They rushed me to the OR and, thankfully, were able to get the bleeding under control without having to remove any of my parts. I have to say, while it was the scariest thing I've ever experienced, that OR sleep was the best sleep I've ever gotten.

So you have 3600 cc of blood in your body. They estimate that I lost around 2000 cc during this whole ordeal. I entered the hospital with a hemoglobin of 13 and was discharged, 3 days later, with a hemoglobin of 5.7. I could barely walk without getting winded and lightheaded and exhausted.

I suppose it sounds dramatic but it is very true that if this were a different century or if I lived almost anywhere in Africa today, I would not have survived all of this. I had a beautiful birth all planned out in my head and on paper but nothing went to plan. I was quick to see though that Heavenly Father put very capable people into my life to take care of me through it all. I felt that strongly as I was being wheeled into the OR. The OR was such a cold, sterile place but I could feel nothing but comfort as I realized that I wasn't ready to die and pleaded with God to help them stop the bleeding.

I'm okay. Henry is perfect. And I am so incredibly grateful.