Easter Was Late This Year, But Not That Late

Apparently, Easter was windy this year.  

It is now June 1, and I am attempting to reconstruct the holiday based on the pictures we took.

I know we went to church.  I know the girls got new dresses and the boys got new ties.

Grandma and Grandpa came up.

There was an Easter Egg hunt involving cold hard cash. There was candy, and there was the breaking of the Sugar Ban. Alisa texted me at midnight to let me know what she was eating.  I can't remember what I ate, but I know that it has been pretty much a free-for-all in the junk food department since then.  I feel like I have gained 10 pounds.  Something better come along to motivate to do something again, and fast.

I have one child left that happily and voluntarily poses for cute pictures in her Easter dress. I have to exploit that while it lasts.

Oh and then there is this child, who never minds being exploited as long as it involves a nice long belly rub.

Um, Happy Easter to us, I guess?

Oh, there that one is a little better.

 The closest thing to a family Easter portrait that we can get, seeing as how one of us was in far off California, eating chocolate and texting about it all day.

The 2014 version of Easter Fun with a Bunny Cake

May 17, 2005

To tell the story of May 17, 2005, we must start on May 2, 2005.  I was at home, 36 weeks pregnant (which will become a significant detail later in this story), having a regular day and planning an afternoon trip to Salt Lake to take Will to an appointment with his eye doctor at Primary Childrens.  Around noon, I realized that I was having pretty regular contractions, much like what had happened with Audrey when she was born.  They weren't painful, just noticeable and very regular.  It was exactly one month before my official due date, and I was certain they weren't "real" contractions.  I went about my day and tried to ignore them, but they started getting closer and closer together, and just before it was time to leave for Salt Lake, I decided I better let my doctor in on what was going on, just to be on the safe side before I hit the road.

Fast forward through some phone calls, and about an hour later I found myself in the hospital, having been cajoled into canceling the eye appointment and going in for monitoring. I think the nurses in labor and delivery must get an awful lot of hopeful women in there, sure that they are in labor when they really aren't, because the nurse that got me all hooked up to the monitors was a study in how to act bored at work, until she had me on the monitor for a few minutes.  Then when she looked at the readout, she perked up pretty fast and said, "Hey you  ARE having some good contractions there!"  So I got to stay for a while and they monitored my contractions for a few more hours, checked out how the baby was doing, and called my doctor, who said STOP THE CONTRACTIONS. SHE IS ONLY 36 WEEKS. SHE CAN'T HAVE A BABY UNTIL SHE IS 37 WEEKS.  For some reason, this made me mad, and I said I am 36 and one half weeks.  So I can have a baby in three days, but not today?  And the nurses said you can have a baby today IF you stay in labor after we give you all these drugs to stop labor.  If they don't work, then you will have a baby today.  I said I didn't want the drugs, but there is really no arguing with labor and delivery nurses about these matters, and besides, Dan was on their side.  So I got pumped full of all sorts of drugs, and fluids, and sent home on bed rest, and a few hours later, the contractions slowed down. I remember thinking oh great, I missed Will's eye appointment for nothing, and my poor baby wanted to come so badly today and those mean old nurses wouldn't let her.  Pregnancy is really hard on a brain.  But I was very upset that I had not been allowed to deliver that day.

I also thought it was so stupid that I was on bedrest.  I didn't think there was anything wrong with me, and I didn't think it would matter if the baby came early, so I was an awful patient.  I mean, I wasn't running a marathon or anything, but I was not exactly compliant either. A day or so later,  at my next doctor's appointment, my blood pressure was up.  I totally lied and said that I was resting as much as I could.  My next appointment after that was May 17, and my blood pressure was up again.  The doctor said he probably should just stick me in the hospital then and there, and induce me that day. But by this point, I had decided that I really wasn't ready just yet to have this baby, and I really did not want to be induced.  So the doctor agreed to see me in three more days. He gave me a list of symptoms and said to call  him immediately if I had any of those symptoms, or if anything just didn't feel right.

I went home determined to be a better patient, and went right to bed. Audrey was at the park behind our house playing with a friend.   I had sloppy joes in the crock pot for dinner. So I figured I could get some rest before everybody else came home from school.  I'd been laying down for about a half hour when I felt a gush of something, and I thought my water had broken.  I went into the bathroom to check things out, and all I remember was seeing blood everywhere.   All of a sudden it seemed like there was blood all over me, all over the floor, and all over the toilet. I totally panicked.  All I could think of was placenta previa, when the placenta separates from the uterine wall, leaving the baby with no oxygen.   I remembered in all the childbirth books ever written,  they always warned you to call your doctor immediately if you started bleeding like that. So I called my doctor's office and they said call the ambulance.   I kept thinking about the bassinet we had set up in the room across the hall, and how after nine months of waiting we were not going to have a baby after all.  It was the most despair I have ever felt. All I could think of was that my baby was maybe dying right at that moment and there was nothing I could do.  I called the paramedics.  Mitch came home from school right in the middle of all this drama, and I explained to him the best I could about what was happening, and Audrey and the sloppy joes.  I called Dan and told him to get right to the hospital, but I didn't tell him anything else.

So the paramedics show up and bundle me off in the ambulance. I didn't know this til later, but Dan pulled up to the house just in time to see the ambulance leaving, and then of course, he panicked.  It was a two minute drive to the ER, which was a block from our house. Never in my life have I been so glad that I lived close to the hospital.  Dan met me on the way in, and got the lowdown on what was happening.  My doctor's partner was there to meet me, and they took us right back and started taking blood and examining and  monitoring everything.  When I heard the baby's heartbeat, I bawled. To say I was relieved to hear that heartbeat, and  to find out she was alive is the understatement of my life.  Right after that they were able to see that the baby was still fine, and the placenta was not detached.  They took a bunch of blood and ran a bunch of tests trying to find out what was going on.  They also told me I would be staying, and having a baby that day. And  that was fine with me. I didn't care about not being ready, or being induced.  I just wanted that baby safe and sound in my arms, and I wasn't leaving the hospital until she was.

A little bit later, my doctor came in and said that I had something called HELLP Syndrome. I had never heard of it before, and still don't really know what it is. The bottom line was that the sooner the baby was born, the better it would be for both of us.  Everything was looking stable,  I was having some contractions, and so  we decided to monitor things and see if the baby would come on her own.   By this time, I had calmed down a little bit, we had a heart monitor on the baby so I knew she was fine, and the bleeding had stopped. So we called everybody who was anybody to let them know what was going on, and settled in for the day.  Around five that evening, we got a phone call from Mitch, who was in charge at home until Grandma could get there. He had cut his hand on a knife and was pretty sure he needed stitches.   Looks like it was going to turn into family day in the ER.  Fortunately, grandma showed up not too long after that, and determined that he only needed a bandaid. Crisis averted. We could again get back to giving birth.

All through the day the nurses kept coming in to get more blood. I was hooked up to an IV so I couldn't get out of bed too easily, and frankly, I was traumatized, and really just wanted to stay in one place.  It was so NOT the  calm, unmedicated birth experience I had been planning on with my midwife.  My doctor came back in later to tell me that the blood tests were looking better, and maybe I didn't have that syndrome after all.   That is a mystery that was never fully resolved- what made me start bleeding, and if I ever really did have HELLP.  I guess I could have stayed pregnant a few more days, and found out for sure, but getting our baby here seemed a little more important.

I think it was around ten pm that the contractions started to get really hard.  I honestly don't remember if they wound up giving me anything, or if the contractions finally picked up on their own.  I remember I sat in that hospital bed for what seemed like forever, so tired, and just waiting for my labor to kick in to gear, and placing bets on whether she would be born on the 17th or the 18th. My bets were on the 18th.

About 10:30, I decided I couldn't take it anymore, and asked for an epidural.  The epidural got placed around 11.  But it wasn't working right.  The doctor was fiddling around with it, trying to get it to work, and it turned out to be a complete waste, because right then my OB came in, and checked, and it was time to have a baby!!  She took her own sweet time, but when she decided she was ready, she was READY. Baby number six came out screaming  at 11:10 pm, on the 17th of May, after only a push or two.  She was our smallest at seven pounds four ounces, and also our darkest and hairiest. She was absolutely miraculous.  I was in love from the first moment, and so incredibly thankful to have her in my arms. Now if only she had a name.....

If It Ain't One Thing

Irony: Paying nearly $500.00 on Tuesday to get your car fixed, only to have your garage door break on Wednesday, with the car trapped inside. Dan and some neighbors are out there right now trying to get the door up so  he can get his car out.  Ain't life grand?  And it doesn't look good.  We may be in for some serious $$$.

More Irony: Taking Audrey to the doctor on Monday with a whole list of mysterious symptoms that didn't pin down any kind of diagnosis, then having her tonsils turn into golf balls on Tuesday afternoon.  And yet more irony: the doctor was more worried about the symptom we kind of threw in at the last minute as an afterthought than all the symptoms that have been plaguing her for a few months now.   Bottom line is, Audrey has a toe that won't bend.  It's been like that for a while, and we aren't really sure if it was always that way, or if something happened to it.  The doctor took an x-ray, and said her toe joint looked like it had been destroyed.  She wants to do more blood tests to rule out all kinds of horrible diseases.  We weren't even worried about the toe. We have been more worried about the aches and pains everywhere else,  the head pressure, the dizziness, ringing ears and weird vision. Oh, and now, thanks to the tonsils, we get to go back for a strep test too.  Can't wait to see what results we get back.

Piper is settling in nicely. Her personality is blooming, as is her bark.  She has transformed from this sad, quiet, skinny, scared little dog who literally ran from her own shadow into this perky, peppy, playful, barky little puppy.  She is better entertainment than Netflix.  Audrey is teaching her all kinds of tricks.  She knows sit, sit up, lay, play dead, and leap- through a hula hoop.  Now if we could just get her to stay put and shut up.  I think she know that she  has all of us wrapped around her little paw.  Well, all of us except the cats. The cats are still so insulted that we had the nerve to bring home another dog.  When she was afraid of them, it wasn't so bad for them,  but now she is starting to believe that she should be ahead of the cats in the pack pecking order, and they are having none of that.  Only she has about forty times more energy than all three of them put together ever thought of having, and so whatever the contest,  Piper usually wins out of sheer stick-to-itiveness.

Oh, and somebody has a birthday coming up on Saturday!  More about THAT coming soon!

A Red Letter, Smiley Face, Star on the Forehead Kind of Day

For  a Saturday, this day almost could not have been better.  I mean, we could have won the lottery and that might have been an improvement, but barring any miracles, this day was pretty darn good.

We got up at the crack of dawn, which ordinarily, would not be the best start to a Saturday, but the weather was beautiful, which always makes everything better.  We were off  to go pick up our Bountiful Basket, and there was endive in it.  Never tried endive, and I'm kind of excited about it.  Then, since we were up so early, we hit Great Harvest for breakfast, and got a ton of yummy stuff from the day old rack, as well as our free slice of bread.  On the way home, our neighbors were having a garage sale, and they were selling  a mattress and box springs.  They made us a great deal on it, and since our poor girl has been sleeping on a mattress that is 20+ years old, I was pretty stoked to find this one for her.  Normally, used mattress would kind of gross me out, but since we know where it came from, I feel much better about it. We were back home by about 7:30,  and I did one of my favorite things ever, that I have only ever done about two other times in my life, and that is to go back to bed after breakfast. Something about getting back to into bed while it is still morning and with a full stomach is really wonderful.  I slept for two more hours, and when I got up, Dan had cleaned off our patio chairs, and was organizing the kids for a project, which turned out to be......

CLEANING OUT THE BASEMENT STORAGE ROOM!!!!!

It looks fantastic, and we got rid of so much old crap.  But the best part is not what we got rid of but what we found.   My missing pictures!!  A box of baby pictures of all my kids has been missing since our Great Flood of '10, and after searching every possible place I could think of,  I had lost hope of ever finding them.  I had come to believe that they had somehow gotten thrown out with all the things that were ruined in the flood.   But no, they had gotten stuffed down inside a box with the CDs that have all our other pictures on them, and put inside an old computer hutch.  I still can't believe they finally turned up.  They are now stuffed safely away in the jumbly box under my bed with all the other unorganized pictures, but at least now I know where they are. This find alone would have been enough to make my day.

Then we hauled a load from the basement off to DI and on the way  home stopped at the neighbor's house to haul home the mattress, and wouldn't you know it, there was a girl's bike there that hadn't sold that was the perfect size for Olivia, so that came home with us too.  She is pretty hesitant about the whole bike experience.  She is nearly nine, and has not mastered the balance thing at all.  Hopefully, this will be the summer that she takes off.

And THEN, Dan had to go  work a soccer game, and I headed out to clean my flower beds. May not sound too exciting, but it is something that my schedule and the weather have not been cooperative on.  Today,  a slice of time and a nice day both opened wide up.  I was working right outside Olivia's open bedroom window, where she was in her room with her friends. I could hear them playing and laughing.   Then I heard her trying to explain to Lili what a coincidence was.  " It's like when someone says it's going to start raining, and then all of sudden it starts. to rain.  That's a coincidence."  "Ohhhh", says Lili, as if the understanding of the universe has been imparted to her.   I love those kids.

After the weeding, I connived  and cajoled Will and Duncan to set up the trampoline for the girls. They were none too happy about this, and worked pretty hard to convince me that they were not capable of doing this, but, with a little encouragement and assistance from moi, lo and behold the trampoline got assembled, and kids were happily jumping away.

Now, I am contemplating  endive and feeling smug about everything we did today. Olivia is off down the street playing. The boys are exhausted from their 30 minutes of intensive labor. The dog is exhausted from running around the yard with us all afternoon. Audrey is spending the weekend in Duchesne.  There are still sheets to wash for the new bed, and the kitchen is a mess, and I don't think the endive will cut it for dinner. But life is good tonight.

Gone to the Dog

So the damn dog crapped in our car last night. And then, not an hour later, she peed on my bed, only minutes after having  respectfully performed her doggie duty outside.  And she had been doing SO GOOD in the potty training department. Just when she has us fooled into thinking we have turned the corner, she hauls off and drops a load in the most obnoxious place.

It's a good thing that when she is not making a mess in my bed,  she is very cute.  And of cours, other than potty issues, she is the smartest dog on the planet.   Our nights now consist of sitting around watching her, to see what amazing and charming thing she is going to do next.  And she has us all at her beck and call.  We are pure putty in her paws.  Does she want a treat?  She sits up and begs until we give her one.  Does she want us to pet her?  She scratches and gnaws at our hands until we oblige.  Does she want to sleep in our beds? She just uses her nose to burrow her way under the covers, then peeks out at us with those big brown eyes.  Next week, she'll know our credit card number and will be ordering up doggie treats on Amazon.

At least the cats have not yet fallen victim to her wiles.

April 14, 1991

Alisa's due date was April 6, 1991.  She was eight long days over due. The longest eight days of my life.  We didn't know if we were having a girl or a boy, and I was so excited and ready to end the anticipation, and meet this little person.  I stopped working on April 1, convinced that he/she would be coming any day, then spent the next week trying to wish myself into labor, and convincing myself that every little ache was surely the start of labor.  I tried anything and everything to coax her to come, mostly walking and walking and walking. Sunday morning, April 7, I got up early and must have walked for two solid hours, in a vain attempt to induce labor.  Nothing. She always did have a stubborn streak.

By the next Saturday, I was convinced I would remain pregnant forever. The thing is, if I do say so myself, I looked dang good when I was pregnant with Alisa.  Other than the basketball in front, I was skinny.  Having Mitch to chase after kept me in shape.  I felt okay too, except for sleeping, which was impossible because I was so achy. I had to sleep on the couch, propped up, and even then I could only get a few hours in at a time before I would have to painfully get up and rearrange all my aching joints.   None of my other pregnancies were as uncomfortable at night as I was with her.   I was also having scary night visions of giving birth to a twelve pound child.  My babies are naturally big, and I figured the last thing we needed was an overcooked one.

Any how, that Saturday, we took Mitch and went to the zoo.  It was April 13, and I was officially a week late.  The weather was beautiful and Mitch had such a great time seeing all the animals. He was especially impressed watching the elephant take a dump. After the zoo, we took him to Grandma Sally's for the day, and went to run a few errands, and walk some more.  We wound up at the King's English book store, looking for a book that Dan needed for one of his classes.  The clerk asked me when the baby was due, and I replied, " a week ago".  Her eyes got big and she said nervously," Ohhhh, then, like, imminently".  She was nervous until we left the store.

Then we went to an early dinner at Sizzler, and it was during dinner that I started thinking maybe, just maybe, I was having contractions. They didn't hurt at all, but they were coming every few minutes pretty regularly.  I didn't want to get my hopes up, having waited so long, and there really wasn't much to get excited about yet, so we went to my mom's to get Mitch.  We hung out there for a while, waiting to see if these contractions were going anywhere or not, and after a few hours of no change, we took Mitch and headed for home.  I figured it this was it, it was still going to be a long time.

We got home, got Mitch bathed and tucked in bed, and put in a movie.  Dan would remember what it was called, but I don't.  All I remember is that there was a character in the movie named Caitlin, and since we had not yet decided on a name, I tried my best to convince him that Caitlin Kelly would be a great name for our baby if it was a girl, since we didn't know what we were having.  I darn near had him talked into  it too.  Then, right at midnight, my water broke.  And as soon as that happened, the contraction suddenly got real.  Fast and painful.  I thought I might be having a baby right there in the house at 358 Leslie Ave.  We called Amy to come stay with Mitch.  She was on a date, which she graciously cut short to come to our aid, and good thing, because as soon as she pulled up, we were on our way out the door. We met her on the front lawn, and told her we would call.   We had also called my parents to meet us at the hospital. We had to put towels down on the seat of the car because I was still leaking everywhere.  And man, I was in pain.  Dan was nervous- really really nervous, and he kept running red lights and breaking the speed limit all the way uptown.

And here comes the funny part.  Nowadays, most hospitals have valet parking for people in labor, but back then, either LDS Hospital didn't have it, or we didn't know about it.  Dan was so nervous to get me up to labor and delivery that we decided it would be a great idea for him to drop me off at the door to the hospital and he would go park the car.  Sounds reasonable I guess, until you remember that this is me we are talking about.  I get turned around in my own garage, let alone a huge, dark hospital, in labor, at two in the morning.  So right off the bat, I got lost.  I was wandering around, having to stop every thirty seconds or so to bend over and breathe through another contraction.  You think of a hospital as a place with twenty-four hour a day action, but I can tell you that hospital corridors can be pretty darn empty and deserted at two o'clock on a Sunday morning.  I must have wandered for a good 10 or 15 minutes before I ran into a security guard who pointed me in the right direction to labor and delivery.  He offered to take me in a wheelchair, but I figured I was nearly there, might as well make it on my own two feet.   By the time I got to the desk, Dan was standing there, panicked look in his eye,  and asking all the nurses in a loud voice where in the heck his wife was.

After that, things started moving pretty quick. My doctor was not on call of course, so they called his associate, Dr. Chapa.  I made sure to get  fixed up right off with an epidural, figuring I was in for a good 8 or 10 more hours of labor.   Much to my surprise and delight though, it was only about an hour later that it was time to push. Had I known it was going to be so quick, I would have skipped the epidural altogether.  We have video of a tired Dr. Chapa, sitting bedside, tapping his fingers, and waiting for it to be time to tell me to push. That's pretty much all he did, was drum his fingers and say "push" every once in a while.  I'm not sure he was even all the way awake.  He did his job though, and at 3:50 am on Sunday, April 14, he held up a screaming 9 lb. 3 oz.  baby, and Dan yelled out, "It's a GIRL!!!" so loud that I'm pretty sure the whole hospital heard it, including my parents who had showed up at some point, and were waiting outside the door.

I was in shock.  I could not believe it was a girl. A girl!  I secretly had believed it was going to be a girl, but I still could not believe I was so lucky to have a boy and a girl!  The perfect little family.  I kept looking at her that first night and thinking to myself, "you're a girl.....you are a GIRL!"  It was so fun to not have known until we were holding her in our arms.   My mom and dad got to come in right away and meet their first granddaughter when she was only a few minutes old, and they were completely enchanted from the first moments.

Now it is 23 years later, and every day since that day, I've been so thankful  to have a daughter.  She just keeps getting better and better, and as I often told her, although not nearly enough, she is and always will be one of my greatest blessings.  We didn't get to spend her birthday together, and it made me sad, but I hope she knows she is always on my mind, even on every other day that is not April 14.

Piper Brown's Lucky Break

This face:

  How were we supposed to resist this face?  I had sworn never again. Life without dog food and dog poop and dog hair and dog drool was just so cushy.  I was so not ready to take on another animal. And then, over spring break,  I was totally sucker punched into going to the animal shelter, "just to look".  And  of course, who's is the first face we see upon opening the door to the dog area, big brown eyes watching hopefully and warily from behind the fence? 

That face.
   
And so, before we even really knew what happened, suddenly we all took a flying leap back into the realms of dog ownership.


Poor little mutt was a stray picked up by animal control.  We know nothing about where she came from before that, but we can tell she has been treated not so nicely at some point in her short life.  She spent a couple of weeks in the animal shelter, where she got spayed and microchipped and cleaned and stuck with the ridiculous moniker of Dingo.  Within a few days of us laying eyes on her, she became our Piper, and hopefully her bad luck streak is over.  Now she is Piper Brown to be specific, she has her own bed, and a collar and her own food bowl.   And she has wriggled her way into our hearts in record time.  She is the definition of lap dog, except for when she just wants to go out and play.  For as small as she is, she can run like nobody's business.  Not much of a jumper, and best of all, at least not yet, she is NOT A BARKER!! She is pretty timid with strangers,  she has some food issues, she is a scavenger, and she is terrified of other dogs, as well as our three cats. She loves loves loves to sit on your lap and be adored, but she is not thrilled with hands reaching out to grab her.  She knows the word NO and hates it.  She sometimes acts like she hasn't spent much time outside.  She is fascinated  by cars and people and lights, and will often just stop and stare at things, like she has never seen them before.
Potty training is a work in progress. She loves to be outside with us. She loves treats. And if you scratch her belly, she will be your best friend for life.

  I know that moment  will come when  she is going to do something naughty, and we will curse her name, and rue the day we ever laid eyes on her, but right now, looking at that face, life feels happier with a dog in the yard.  And our living room. And yeah, even sometimes our bed.