Oh Canada!

At Taylor's first doctor appointment, the receptionist was asking the usual questions to fill out her information.  She got to the question on ethnicity (mentioning I could choose up to 3 origins); I looked down at Taylor's milky-white skin and bright blue eyes and replied,

"Umm... White, Cracker."

I'm pretty sure she's about 50% German and 50% English.  She would have definitely survived the Holocaust (well, maybe not, because I'd hope she'd see the wisdom in her English side and realize how admirably Winston Churchill led his country in what appeared only a losing battle and then be a Jewish sympathizer and help them escape, but alas, I digress from the present topic).

Since Taylor lacks any cultural diversity, Eric and I decided to get started on exposing her to lots of different people and places early in life.

In her short life, she has already spent time in

Auburn, WA

Caldwell, ID

Lehi, UT

Newcastle, CA

Blackfoot, ID

and

Victoria, BC, CA

(Oh, what's that you say?  All of those hip destinations have as much racial and economic diversity as a vanilla waffer?  Hmmm.... next week = Compton.)

Anyway, our trip to Canada ended up being a complete disaster.  We didn't do much planning, so the mantra rang true, "If you fail to plan, you plan to fail."

So we spent about 4 hours in ferry rides and WAY too much money on a hotel in which we got NO sleep as I attempted to prevent any crying all night long. (I cannot imagine how disastrous the trip could have been without Neal and Michelle actually pointing us in the right direction.)

We drove an hour and half to Anacortes where we stayed the night.  We got up early the next morning and caught a 2 1/2 hour ferry to Victoria.  It was a pretty ride, but LONG.

Taylor just lying on the front seat during the ferry ride, listening to her Daddy talk.

Then, we get to Canada and Eric's passport is invalid so they arrest him - JUST KIDDING!

We drove around, looked at some stuff, ate lunch and then decided we'd better just catch another ferry back to Port Angeles after being in BC for only about an hour and a half.  See, the ferries were only running about once a day as it technically wasn't summer yet, so we either had to leave quickly the same day, or stay the night.  While we wanted to just stay (and then could have had a wonderful little vacation), we had bigger problems... and the only explanation I can fathom is this:  

Taylor has been instilled with too much patriotism (if there could even be such a thing) because she basically cried the WHOLE time we were in BC.

Seriously.

So no real pictures, and not a lot of fun for us, until we stepped over the threshold on to the ferry that would bring us home, and suddenly, she calmed down.  

Seriously. 

And then I could swear I kept hearing her briefly humming snippets of "America the Beautiful" (or was that me?).

 This is us on the ferry back to the land of the free and the home of the brave with beautiful Victoria behind us.

Eric and Tay took a little nap on the ferry home.  I'm pretty sure every fellow passenger that walked by stopped dead-in-their-tracks to just gaze at these two sleeping so peacefully, and then would tell me, "Awhhhh... that is SO sweet!" and point them out to everyone else in the vicinity.

While we're on this final ferry I keep asking Eric if he sees anyone official looking so I can ask how long until Port Angeles (because I'm 5 and can't just patiently wait for an undisclosed period of time, I need to know the end game).

Well, after a few minutes of waiting in our little booth, Eric says, "Oh, there's someone you could ask!" just as someone, with a ton of keys jingling from his pocket, zips by us into the next compartment.  I hardly got a look at him, and realize I'll never catch him, so I just settle back down.

Awhile later I see someone with similar jingling keys on the deck outside our window and ask Eric if that is indeed the Authority Figure he saw.  He confirms that this is, indeed, the person Eric views as a credible source of information. 

Behold:

No, your eyes do NOT deceive you.  This is a 13 year old boy on a school field trip.  Yes, you can see he does have a lot of keys jingling from his right pocket, but what you CAN'T see is the whoopee cushion he has in his left hand... NOT KIDDING. 

Moral of the story: if you want Eric to look up to you and view you as some kind of leader, carry keys... lots of keys.  Aside from that, you can do whatever you please.  He'll still respect you.

After that 1 1/2 hour ferry back, we still had about a 2 1/2 hour car ride home.  Seriously, we basically just lived in our car that day.

Needless to say, everyone was exhausted by the time we got home... and was still happy to keep sleeping the next morning...

Sometimes I wonder if Eric thinks time like this actually counts towards his care-taking hours...

So, to sum up, go to Victoria if you have a chance, just DON'T bring Taylor Teichert along... she bleeds red, white, and BLUE!

She's so Vain, She Probably Thinks this Post is About Her...

So it's better late than never...

It's important to let everyone know that we are completely self-absorbed.  As such, Taylor inherited this adorable quality and insisted on TWO newborn photo shoots, threatening that any less than 200 photos would result in the ultimate betrayal - 

registering as a democrat on her 18th birthday.

(kidding, Dana)

Of course we relented.

Here are some of our favorite shots -

Seriously, how did we get so lucky?  I feel so indebted to our Heavenly Father for blessing our family with such a perfectly-healthy, relatively-easy* baby.

*Although I definitely still feel overwhelmed 75% of the time and count a small personal victory if I get make-up on... and don't even get me started on whatever injustices Taylor thinks she experiences every night between 7 and 11 PM that make her entitled to hours of endless holding, bouncing and nursing.  But seriously, she's the BEST. THING. EVER.  I know we are blessed beyond our comprehension.)

2 Month Monster

Taylor is HUGE!  We took her in for her 2 month appointment and she's a whopping 10# 10 oz mammoth!

(We were expecting maybe a 10# even)

Well, here is what she's been up to:

At the blessing, 3 weeks ago, she was wearing newborn sized clothing.  Now, she is barely squeezing into her 3 month sizes.  IN 3 WEEKS!  I told her not to be depressed about going up in sizes.  I told her it's "normal."  She was concerned about accelerating through her wardrobe so quickly though (she really has some cute outfits she's only worn a couple times).  I tried to convince her that it's mostly muscle (using the "muscle weighs more than fat" approach) so that she won't be self-conscience.  This worked for a little while, but the other day, while I was changing her diaper, she noticed a new roll on her thigh, and since has insisted on an all liquid diet.  She was looking into a juice cleanse, but I convinced her we should do milk instead.

She likes to keep an eye on us now.  She'll follow me all around with her eyes (probably to make sure I don't eat fatty foods.  She keeps telling me "A moment on your lips, forever on MY hips!").  

She really does not like it when we're outside and I wear sunglasses.  Good thing we're in Seattle and I don't need them often. 

Sometimes we can get smiles out of her now!  She is most smiley in the morning after a good nights sleep... well... good for HER!

She always has this right hand up... Eric says it's b/c she'll be a basketball player and she's practicing her shot.

Look at this blanket Eric got me for Mother's Day!  I love it!

So Grandma Teichert brought this little bunny out when she came to visit during the bed rest stint.  Since then, it has been sitting on the corner of the pack n play and EVERY TIME I put Taylor in there she just stares, smiles, and talks to it.

 

In current news:

She got a shot at her last Dr appointment.  I had myself all prepared for weeping, wailing, gnashing of teeth, etc.  I was all set to nurse her as soon as it was over and then had a day planned of cuddling and warm bath.  Well, as usual, Taylor completely surprised me.

When the nurse tried to give her the rotovirus (oral), Taylor just spit it out.  Over and over.  I'm pretty sure the nurse got about 1/4 of the vaccine in her.  Nothing she did could get Taylor to drink that stuff.  I'm amazed because it fit with her diet regimen (liquid)!

She has a delicate palette.

Then, when the nurse gave her the injection, TAYLOR DIDN'T EVEN FLINCH.  I'm pretty sure she didn't even know it happened.  So when the nurse asked if I was going to use the room to feed her I said, "I guess not..." and we left.

After I got done bragging to everyone about how AMAZING and TOUGH my daughter was, and took this picture to commemorate the day,

Taylor woke up from a nap and started

SCREAMING!!!

Every time she moved her little leg she just wailed and wailed.  It took all my calming techniques combined to get the tiny one to stop crying.  It was the saddest thing I've seen, yet.  She screamed until she was horse and then just screamed and screamed some more.  We had her on a steady regimen of Tylenol and held her all evening (making sure that leg did not move even a millimeter).

Eventually, after she settled a little (we told her the shot was actually part of the HCG diet), we gave her a deep, warm bubble bath and Daddy got in with her.  She kicked her little legs like crazy (which I thought was good, to get that stuff circulated out of her little thigh) and was pretty happy.  I noticed that Eric had a leg gently resting over her, and when I asked why, he told me it's because she is so buoyant now, it's hard to keep her under any amount of water to keep her warm.  I laughed, but stopped short because I'm pretty sure Taylor had one ear out of the water and heard what we were saying because she started fussing again.

We tried to tell her that this was going to be a good thing.  We're just getting prepared for Lake Powell this summer.  Ya know, just in case the worst-thing-in-the-world-happens and she doesn't have a vest on, she'd float.

She just mumbled something about "child protective services" and "incompetencies."

Utah!

A few weeks ago we all went to Utah for Eric's brother Jeff's wedding.  Of course I was stressing the whole time about taking my tiny infant on a germ-infested airplane, but we made it without incident!

Jeff and his wife, Brandi, got married in the Manti temple on April 27th.  It was an amazing sealing.  The Sealer was so cute and said some very sweet things.  We're so excited that Brandi is in the family!  I'm hoping that her and I will have lots of fun in Boise this summer.

At the temple.
We left Taylor in the foyer with some temple workers while we went in for the ceremony. She was so good and well cared for.  Before we had even left the entry way to head back to the sealing room, I turned around to find no less than 4 little ladies all circled around her just fawning over her.  They say she just kept her eyes open and looked all around the whole time.  I think that with all those kind ladies dressed in white surrounding her, she thought she was in Heaven again.  :)

Unfortunately, immediately after the ceremony, Taylor decided that she was STARVING and had to be fed THAT INSTANT!  We only got a few photos in with the photographer before I had to go feed her.  Hence, no pic of us with Jeff and Brandi.  :(

Since Eric's family was all in town, and we were staying at Jen's house in Lehi, we decided we should do Taylor's blessing that weekend.  

(Mormons bless new babies to have their names included on Church records.  The father also includes blessings upon the baby as the Spirit directs him)

Unfortunately, we decided this pretty last minute so not ALL my family could make it out... :/  We still got a pretty good turn out though... Grandaddy & Grammy Miller, Grandma & Grandpa Horrocks, Grandma Miller, Jen, Jeff, Ezra, Grandma & Papa Teichert, Aubrey + Kids, Kregg, Andrew, and Hannah.

Grandpa Horrocks with Taylor for the first time.  He kept saying, "I forgot they made them this small!"

We did the blessing at Jen's house on Sunday afternoon.  Eric said the sweetest little blessing for Taylor (she is very loved) and then Jen prepared a whole lunch for everyone.  Yes, Jen did everything... pretty much single-handedly... at the same time she has just started working full-time and has a husband with a broken hip.  Then, I decide to come stay at her house for a week, with a newborn, and then invite everyone I know over for a huge Sunday meal.  Seriously, in this sisterhood, she definitely got the short-end of the stick.  I really need to start pulling my weight...

Here are some pics of Taylor in her blessing dress:

We're so blessed to have such wonderful family and a healthy baby girl.

Life is good.

All About Taylor

Since Miss Taylor has consumed our whole life, it is only fitting that she consume the blog now, too.

(Although I'll be sure to continue writing anecdotes to embarrass Eric from time to time.)

Here's some of the things to love about Taylor:

She was born with LOTS of dark hair

She has FIVE birthmarks!  You can see two are on her little face (forehead and under nose).  The pediatrician says they should go away over time and probably be gone by the time she's two.  We think she's pretty cute with them.

She loves her daddy.  He spends lots of QUALITY time with her:

 

This is how tiny she was: 

 She's already told me how much she loves me:

She likes her binky,

 and loves her bath.

 

But nothing makes her happier than a warm glass of milk, of the human variety.

Our Little Love Bug's Arrival

This post is LONG overdue...

On Friday, March 9th I was allowed to stop taking the meds that were preventing the labor and begin trying to assimilate into society after my bed rest ostracizing.

The next Wednesday was when everything started happening...

I had just come home from a Primary Presidency meeting and was trying to help Eric cook some Cafe Rio inspired chicken salads.  It's probably around 7 PM.  I'm standing in the kitchen trying to contribute to our partnership when I just feel so tight and uncomfortable I HAVE to go lay down.

I'm laying there for a few minutes when I get up to use the restroom and feel something wet.  But it wasn't what you're thinking... it was:

BLOOD!

So I rush out of the restroom and tell Eric,

"We're going to the hospital, NOW!  Just take everything off the stove and I'll grab the bags."

A long story short-

I finally convince the on-call Dr that this bleeding is not normal (by displaying a disgusting trail of blood behind me wherever I go), and they admit me.

I cannot believe my belly was that huge!

Of course, they're trying to get the pain associated with the contractions I'm experiencing to stop, hoping that maybe it will stop the labor (I'm so at the end of my rope with always trying to "stop labor").

After they give me the morphine (yes, MORPHINE), things start to settle until suddenly,

Taylor kicks me so hard

I say to Eric "Whoa, that HURT" and then I feel something like a rubber-band snap inside me and

BAM
MY WATER BROKE!

I tell the nurse I want an epidural ASAP (I had no foolish notions about being a hero).  It's about 12 AM.

I have some of the worse pain imaginable before that epidural gets in, but as soon as it started working I was in such a state of bliss I could not thank the Drs enough.

After about an hour (1 AM) I'm at a 10 and we're pushing. It was very mellow and relaxed, my Dr was great.  Then, at 2:18 AM on Thursday, March 15th:

Taylor Rae Teichert

6 lb 4 oz

Things New-Fathers Say

So the other day, after I finished feeding Taylor, I decided to put some laundry away in our bedroom.  Accordingly, I gave Taylor to Eric to burp, cuddle, etc.

These are the things I heard Eric say to Taylor over the course of the next 15 minutes, in order:

"Eww, you sneezed right on my NECK!"

...

"Oh... the old 'burp-right-into-my-MOUTH-while-I'm-trying-to-love-on-you' trick."

...

"Ahh!  Why are you trying to RE-EAT that!?  That's throw-up, Taylor!  We're not birds, ya know!?"

Of course, I neglected to intervene during any of these episodes and silently giggled to myself from the other room.  I must say, I have not had any of these above problems with the tiny angel in the manner in which Eric was encountering them, so I'm not sure what Eric is doing experience all these bodily fluids in such a short expanse of time, but it does give my life some comedic relief.

Later that night, Taylor was laughing in her sleep and I can't help but think she was reliving all the jokes she played on her daddy earlier that day.

What I've Learned

It's been 3 weeks, and these are the lessons I've learned:

1. Breastfeeding is hard.

2. I miss sleep.

3. Single parents must have magic powers.

4. I never appreciated my own mom enough.

5. Our Father in Heaven hears and answers prayers EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. I promise.

6. I love this little ball of sleepiness SO much.

Menstrual Synchrony

Via Wikipedia:

"Menstrual synchrony is a phenomenon wherein the menstrual cycles of women who lived together reportedly became synchronized over time."

Obviously, neither myself nor Eric are currently menstruating, but I feel another phenomenon is taking place within our household.

I was explaining to Eric the other day that being pregnant makes you feel like you have 1,000 times the hormones and emotions of a normal woman. It's like you're a type of "Super Woman," but instead of powers you get teary eyed while watching the news, want deep, emotional conversations, and get the chills when talking about how Harry Potter survived Voldemort's curse b/c Harry's mom died to protect him (oops, spoiler alert ;) ).

Anyway, in the past 24 hours it has become abundantly clear that some of these pregnancy pheromones I've been shooting out are starting to work their magic on Eric.

A few examples:

1. The last few nights, Eric has insisted on sleeping with the Diva Dozer (see earlier post). I have tried to point out to him that between BOTH our pillow needs at this time, DD hardly leaves enough space for me on the mattress.

He told me: "Well, I need her. At least one side... so I can put my leg up on her. It's good for my posture and alignment... see!?" Then, he just looked up at me all sweet and innocent.

Oh... right... your posture and alignment... because obviously your body has been undergoing serious stress lately while mine has nothing new to point out (although, I should mention that Eric did again crash his bike. He said the construction people were back and a road-sign blew into him during a huge gust of wind.... hahahaha) (see this post).

2. He calls himself "Cinderella."

Every time I ask him to do some household chore he saterically replies,

"And then what? Do the dishes and the mopping. She always keeps me hopping..."

in a lyrical, poetic fashion that I'm sure is supposed to resemble the Disney song.

(Although I should point out that I overheard Eric say to himself on Wedesday that if he just leaves the dishes until Friday... "Michelle will be off bed rest and she will have to do them...")

3. This morning I wake up to the sound of Eric giggling at whatever is happening on the TV. When I make my way out of bed I find he is watching

Ellen DeGeneres

alone... meaning... this is what HE chose to watch... by himself! Obviously, I find the event shocking and intriguing. I instantly point out to him that he is, indeed, watching Ellen, alone, out of his own free will, and laughing audibly. I assume he will logically explain that it just "came on" after he got done watching "The Hulk," "Rambo," or some equally masculine show.

He doesn't even blink away from the screen but instead says to me,

"Yeah, you should have seen a segment earlier this week..."

and he begins pulling up YouTube clips from her show so I can see how funny it was.

I'm wondering if we should retain a lawyer to determine whether our Utah marriage is in fact legal, because I'm pretty sure we're both girls.

Cornbread

I love cornbread. The yellow, crumbly, cakey wonderful stuff.

We were lucky enough to receive some for dinner the other night and I was just polishing it off.

I took a piece to my bedroom b/c I was in the mood to read. As I sat on the bed, I had the fleeting thought, "Hmm.. this could make a huge mess if I'm not careful..."

I nestled in with my book and thought nothing of it.

Enter Eric, the once happy-husband-turned-housemaid due to the recent internment of his wife and is now uber conscience of what it takes to keep a house clean:

surprised - "Oh, you're eating crumbles in the bed..."
...
concerned - "... on my side..."
...
alarmed - "... with HONEY!"

I start laughing b/c I had the similar thought (mentioned above) but did not notice all the other circumstances Eric was now bringing to light.

This laughing causes Eric to give me a playful swat just as I'm eating the last piece of yellow-heaven.

And that's how sticky yellow crumbles land on the mattress.

exasperated - "You're cleaning that up."

Poor guy is a good sport.
He wasn't even actually mad even though we both knew who was going to clean it up.

Nothing Much...

This post will really interest no one, but I have a little spare time and wanted to share.

This is what my chain of bed rest days looks like today... nothing makes me happier:
Also, I've been plagued by a touch of the nausea lately (nothing compared to that ridiculous 1st trimester) but these items always sound good:

Dan Dan Noodles - P.F. Chang's
Double Double - In-N-Out
Pizza - from anywhere

I'm disgusting.

Lastly, Eric and I were just talking and I want Taylor to pursue these activities:
Piano
Guitar
Dance

Eric wants her to do:
Soccer
Basketball
Golf (see Footnote 1)

That's not too much to ask, right?

(Footnote 1: a competitive GOLFing pursuit? Doesn't this look suspiciously like a ploy for HIM to spend more time golfing? He also mentioned "hunting" and "fishing."
I would like a housekeeper and live-in cook, but did I add domestic education and culinary training to the list?)

The Ugly Reality of Bed Rest

I've been on bed rest for 30 days, I have 12 left.

But who's counting?

Oh wait, I am. EVERY DAY.

A ring left for each day... I still need to take today's off.

Now, in reality, I know it hasn't been that bad.

After Jen left, my MIL Bev came out to keep me company. I learned that she had been planning a surprise baby shower for me in Idaho during the weekend of Phil's (Eric's brother) wedding. Sadly, since I'm obviously not allowed to travel hundreds of miles, we missed out on the festivities and if you know ANYTHING about me, I'm mostly sad I had to miss an opportunity to be the center of attention. ;) But really, I am bummed. I would have loved to have been there for the marriage and see everyone... mostly Paislen and Kathryn's dress.

Bev brought out some of the decorations she'd been making for the shower so when I got home from the hospital, I found these:
"Welcome Baby" Banner
"Diaper cake" filled with items we were in desperate need of (i.e. bottles, towels, blankets)
and she also brought some Preemie sized clothes bc the Drs are sure I'm not going to make it to term (although, with my luck, they'll take me off the medication and bed rest and I'll end up overdue and they'll have to induce me at 42 weeks when I'm huge. This might be my worst fear at this point. Have I mentioned Eric weighed 10 lbs 4 oz when he was born? And on the ultrasound, Taylor looks very Teichert... you should see the width of her feet...). So, assuming the Drs are correct, this is the outfit she'll be coming home from the hospital in. It is so tiny it looks like doll clothes. We can't wait to put her in them and finally hold her.
So, by way of announcement, her name will be Taylor. Jen and I made this during the hospital stay and I've finished since I've been home. I'm not sure it will actually be displayed anywhere bc it's not the most beautiful creation I've seen, but it passed the time. I realize the alliteration of Taylor Teichert might not be some ppl's favorite, but I like it. I mean, I was Michelle Miller for awhile there, and it served me well.

After Bev left, my Grammy Miller came out and doted on me hand and foot. My apartment was SPOTLESS, meals were frozen for later consumption and she was willing to just sit and chat with me. She is the greatest Grandma ever. She even got all of Taylor's things organized and got the hospital bags packed up for whenever we'll need them.

And, on top of all of this service we've received, our ward at church has been outstanding. They have been bringing us meals (DELICIOUS, award-winning meals), checking in on me, coming to chat with me, bringing me movies, magazines, books and chocolate. Seriously, we are so blessed.

But despite all of that (bc I really am grateful for everything and having kept her in thus far or even having the opportunity to be pregnant), let me complain:

I'm huge and can hardly move as I grow exponentially larger each day and my muscles continue to atrophy. It is seriously so hard to sit up or stand up if I lay down on the floor.

Our leather couch is about the most uncomfortable furniture to lay on for hours a day because it has absolutely no give. I'd trade it at any moment for a soft, fabric couch even in the most hideous floral print you could find.

I feel bad for Eric bc he has to wait on me ALL DAY LONG. I swear he just sits down when I run out of water, or need my computer charged, or laundry done, or accidentally dump chips on the floor. Then, I just have to look at him and hope he still loves me enough to endure (and I never get dressed or wear make-up so I know the ice gets thinner every day).

Lastly, my largest complaint (bc I can handle the boredom pretty well) is the

LACK OF SLEEP!

I swear, I am going to die if I don't find a solution soon. (That solution may be in the form of Tylenol PM.) First, I lay around all day so I don't exactly wear myself out. As I struggle to get comfortable, I flip over about a million times (which in itself is painful as all my ligaments readjust). Then, just as I get into a decent position, I realize I'm hungry, or thirsty, or Taylor starts to kick with all the fury she can muster, or she gets violent hiccups. Either way, the cycle takes about 2 hours to run its course and then I realize I need to pee. I get back in bed and suddenly... I'm hungry... and thirsty... and Taylor's awake again kicking my stomach so I'm nauseous... and then it finally stops when I start feeling hiccups... and then I have to pee...

IT IS RIDICULOUS!

I even bought this special, $60 pregnancy pillow bc everyone said it would solve all my problems. It hasn't. Well, except that it may have bought me a little extra patience from Eric. He seems to have gotten the hang of "bed rest" much better.


He calls this particular position with the pillow: "Diva Dozing"
and no, I didn't make that up.

Pre-Term Labor and the Worst 2 Weeks of My Life

I went for a routine Dr appointment on Tuesday, January 24th. I mentioned I had been experiencing some cramping and tightening lately. We decided to schedule an ultrasound for later in the week to take a look at my cervical length, but thought I may have just been experiencing some intense Braxton-Hicks.

I woke up early on Friday, January 27th because I was so excited for the ultrasound we had scheduled for that day. I figured we would get to see Baby and everything would be fine. When I was getting dressed that morning I put on some of my less-comfy clothes thinking I'd only be in them for a little while.

Well, the ultrasound tech said Baby looked fine and Eric had to get to class so he took off. After he left we measured the cervical length and found it to be about half the length it was at my 20 week appointment. The ultrasound tech hinted that I might be put on bed rest, but referred me to the Dr for an immediate follow up.

I met with the Dr and she tells me that she's going to send me over to the hospital to monitor these contractions. I'm sitting there, honestly shocked by what is happening.

THE HOSPITAL?

I text Eric to let him know where I'll be and he thinks I'm joking. Neither of us saw this coming AT ALL. We were going to have a normal Friday and a wonderful weekend.

As I'm being monitored the pain gets worse they tell me I'm having contractions about every 3 minutes. They're going to ADMIT me.

I kept saying, "This is so weird... this is not what I'm supposed to be doing today... this is so weird...I need to tell someone at work..."

The Drs and nurses kept assuring me that everything was going to be "fine" and this was all just "precautionary," to be on the safe side. As long as I wasn't dilating, nothing to worry about.

So they hook me up to all these machines and start a drip of magnesium. They also give me some steroids to help Baby's lungs in case she does decide it's time to see the world. Which, by the way, was quite a painful shot.

So the magnesium gets the contractions to slow down, but they're definitely not stopped by any means. The meds make me miserable and I get absolutely no sleep that night. Everyone keeps assuring me that I'll go home soon, for sure by Monday.

Anyway, the weekend continues like that. I hardly sleep, feel horrible, worry, and am not allowed to shower until the magnesium is stopped. I'm still wearing that less comfy shirt I put on Friday morning before leaving for the ultrasound.

Saturday night Eric starts to not feel so good. When I talk to him on Sunday morning he says he was up all night and he feels so much pressure and pain. I assume he must have gotten food poisoning and will start violently purging bodily fluids soon.

He doesn't.

On Monday my contractions get way more intense. They decide to transfer me to another hospital as the hospital I'm currently enjoying can only take babies after 32 weeks gestation... I'm only 30 weeks.

They take me off the magnesium and start me on Procardia.

They call an ambulance.

I'm dilated to 1 cm.

Eric still feels horrible.

I tell Jen I need her to come out... ASAP. She books a flight and will arrive at 6:20. That seems forever away.

We get to the new hospital. I feel slightly better. But they start giving me penicillin bc they haven't done a Group B Strep test on me.

They keep telling me everything is "fine" and this is all "precautionary."

Eric still feels horrible so I send him to Urgent Care thinking maybe he has a kidney stone or something.

Jen shows up.

I'm still contracting every 5 minutes.

Eric comes back to tell me the news - IT'S AN APPENDICITIS.

He goes to the emergency room.

My contractions get much worse. I'm nauseous. I'm in pain. It's late.

They give me a shot of terbutaline.

It makes my pulse race and I shake like I am coming off cocaine for about 3 hours.

Basically this is the worst night of my life. I just want it to all be over with. I'm certain that my baby is going to be born with horrible medical complications, Eric will die during surgery, or, if he makes it through, he probably forgot to tell the Drs that he's allergic to penicillin and he'll die shortly thereafter. We lie to Eric and tell him everything is "fine" (we'd learned this tactic from all the ppl using it on me).

*The Dr tells me weeks later that she was sure I was going to deliver that night. She doesn't know why the contractions slowed and I didn't dilate any further. I didn't divulge to her, but I know what stopped that from being the worst-case-scenario it was leading up to: my family started fasting and praying for us that day. I also had ppl all over the country putting our names in the temple. I know, without any hesitation or shadow of a doubt, that it was answered prayers. I don't know how anyone in this world gets through anything without a knowledge of Christ in their lives.*

Jen rubs my legs for hours bc I find it the only comfort in that room. She also convinces me to take some Zofran and Ambien (against my will bc I don't want Baby to be accosted by so many drugs) and I finally sleep.

The next day I am feeling better. I even managed to eat a little and except for one horrible bout of contractions in the morning, the day passes without incident. Eric even makes a visit over to my room from his. Everyone in the hospital can hardly believe the timing of the whole fiasco. I still don't feel awesome and the anxiety is probably causing the worst of the symptoms. Especially at night.

Anyway, over the course of the week, with a LOT of help from Jen (making sure I eat, sleep, shower, and even negotiating a wheelchair ride for me once daily so that I can get out of my prison cell, I mean hospital room) I start making some progress and I get less and less depressed every day. She even put up a board that she would update each day to show that I had made it one more day. It made a huge difference. I even started to gain back the 5 lbs I'd lost since checking in.
She slept in this horrible sleeper chair for a week, never left the room, either, and never complained. I have the best sister, EVER. For real. As much as I keep saying Baby is going to be an only child, I don't think I'd forgive myself if I didn't at least try to give her a sister. I don't think I'd have made it through a few horrible experiences without her. This one takes the cake, though.

Anyway, after two weeks in the hospital, they finally sent me home. I'll update more about that later...

Best Husband

This is how I know I have THE BEST husband:

Upon my departure from work yesterday I called Eric to tell him,

"Don't bother making dinner. I am not even close to being hungry and probably won't be until much later tonight."

(Notice, this implied notion that he would be making me dinner, because, well, he usually does...)

We make a plan that I'll just drop by the house and pick him up for a little shopping at Babies R Us. We'll worry about dinner when we get back.

A half-hour later, as I'm pulling away from the train station, I call him back to say,

"We'll have to go by Babies R Us later, I'm starving. But still, don't worry about it. I'll be home in 10 minutes and I'll just grab something quick."

Eric's response?

"I figured. I already started making tacos and they should be done by the time you get here."

I mean, really!? How did he KNOW!? I swear, I don't pull shenanigans like that often.

BUT HERE'S THE ICING ON THE CAKE:

I'm about a mile from home and that noise I've been trying to ignore the past couple miles just becomes too suspicious not to take a peek at -

I have a COMPLETELY flat tire.

Seeing as though I don't bend at the waist anymore (and lets face it, I have no idea how I'd take care of this under normal circumstances), I knew this was out of my hands. I call Eric... again...

"Uhmm... I have a flat tire... and I'm pretty sure I've been driving on it flat for quite a while... like, since this morning when I left for work... sorry..."

Eric seems completely unperturbed by the recent turn of events, comes down the hill, changes the tire in about 10 minutes and we drive home... to a STILL WARM, fresh-cooked meal.

I think this picture I took over Christmas shows the full extent of his greatness

Yes, he is vacuuming and taking care of Ezra while Jen&Jeff are gone and I'm doing what!?
IDLY SITTING BY AND TAKING A PICTURE!

And as I sit here on the couch, watching TV and eating everything I can get my hands on, Eric is doing the laundry. He just finished sorting through his tools and getting the 72-hour kit ready...

Best of both worlds? I think YES!