Emerson: month one.

ohhh my baby. 

you are our favorite thing. i mean we're really obsessed with you. it's okay that sometimes you keep us up at night. or pee on us (mostly your dad). or poop everywhere. or make it more complicated to go anywhere or do anything. we love you so much. and it's not just cause you're adorable. (which, holy crap! you really are) it's because you are ours and you are the greatest blessing we've ever received.

the first month of your life has blown by. just like i knew it would. it seems like every day you change a little more right before my eyes. you're growing fast! but you're still so tiny. as of tues. 12/10/13 you were 8 lbs 14 oz. you don't fit into any of your clothes yet very well, except your newborn clothes. which we don't have very many of. sometimes it's frustrating but I know one day you're going to be too big for these tiny clothes and i'll probably cry when i have to pack them up and save them for a rainy day, or another baby. It was rough enough when we had to switch from newborn diapers to size ones. which mostly only did because we ran out of newborn diapers and didn't want to buy more. but still, sad. i cried a little about that. about diapers. i guess i've gone soft.

no offense, but you're pretty predictable right now. you eat, sleep, poop, pee, and repeat. sometimes you sleep for a long time at night. but sometimes, you're like, naah. but i don't expect too much from you yet. within the last week, you started smiling at us. mostly me. you like me. a lot. you like your dad too. but i think i'm your favorite. (i better be) you like it when we sing to you and you really like it when we listen to music. especially Drake. and especially when I sing a long. 

you had your first thanksgiving two weeks ago. you did so good! you slept the whole way in the car and you let everyone pass you around without too much fussiness. everyone is in love with you. it's probably because you're perfect. your grandpa and grandma coffin are almost as obsessed with you as we are. you are already so spoiled. i can only imagine how it's going to be when you're older. but that's okay. NOW we hope you do just as good on our travels to GA for Christmas to see the Giddens. but i'll let you know. I'll love you no matter what.

sometimes you like baths, sometimes you don't. i think you're cute all the time but you're especially cute when you're fresh out of the bath and your nakie. i cuddle you up in towels and blankets until your little lip stops quivering. OH and you love to take naps while we hold you. and i love to do it. but i'm trying to slowly start breaking that habit. the last thing we want is for you to be a difficult sleeper. but right now we are enjoying how cuddly and sweet you are. 

we are loving every second of everyday with you and we really look forward to our adventures with you.

love you a bushel and a peck and a hug around the neck! xoxo

-mom

sometimes you give birth to a kid.

I love my baby. I love him so much i can hardly comprehend it. It actually terrifies me how much I love him because it makes me feel incredibly vulnerable. However, what I loved less was the process of giving birth to  him. That's not to say I HATED giving birth because things were relatively easy and we both made it out healthy and alive but... let me explain.

I hate that I have to even say that. That I didn't *like* to give birth. I did so much research about childbirth. I would almost say that I knew too much for my own good. I knew that my body knew exactly what it needed to do and the pain was just my body doing the work of getting my baby out. I knew that I wanted to have a natural labor with a midwife at a birth center. To my dismay though, that wasn't how it was going to work for me. When I got pregnant I discovered that my insurance would cover EVERYTHING in a hospital and NOTHING with anything else. Some women would say, "it's worth the 5 grand +!" but that wasn't really in the cards for us. SO I made the best with what I had. I created a birth plan and told my doctors that I wanted to have a natural birth and they were on board. I wasn't delusional by any means, I knew that sometimes things happen when you have a baby and things don't go the way you want. 

BUT, things were going well for me. I had a very healthy pregnancy. My blood pressure was perfect, my pee was clean, my glucose levels were fine, Emerson's heart rate was perfect and his head was down, I was gaining the exact right amount of weight etc etc. So I figured, having the birth I want, should be no problem. I even chose to deliver at a hospital that was totally cool with women having natural deliveries. Everything was fine.

Then, my due date came and went. My OB asked me if I wanted to be induced. I said no. He'd come when he was ready.  So I waited and kept going in for my check ups. To my dismay, my blood pressure started creeping up at each subsequent visit. When I went in at 41 week 5 days, my BP was too high for my OB to be comfortable with so he said we needed to induce. My heart sank. So, we discussed the ways to get labor started and we came to an agreement that I was most comfortable with. I was grateful to have a doctor that listened to my concerns, discussed things through with me, and didn't bully me into things I didn't want. 

So we went home to get all my stuff I had packed. After that, we said a prayer in the car and stopped for lunch and went to the hospital. I wasn't even nervous. Why wasn't I nervous? I have no idea. I was about to experience something completely insane and then my life would be changed forever afterwards and there was no turning back. But at 12:45 PM on 11/11 I was like, no big deal, Let me put on this hospital gown that someone probably died in at some point and watch Honey Boo Boo while my cervix ripens. So for the first few hours, that's what I did.

Apparently contractions were coming but I couldn't feel them other than a little tightening. I would occasionally get up, walk around, pee, snack, whatever. Then I would have to get back in bed to check my blood pressure and the baby's heart rate. Fortunately, as I relaxed my blood pressure started to go down, but it wasn't down very much. And then I had to get Antibiotics in an IV because I was GBS positive and that burned my veins. It was really uncomfortable. At about 5:45 my OB came in to see how I was doing. He decided it would be best if he broke my water. I wasn't super stoked about that. But my BP was betraying me. So he did. And once he did, things really got going. I started to feel the contractions and within three hours they got really intense. At that point I had switched nurses and the new nurse was someone who had delivered her babies naturally, so she showed Taylor how to push my legs and knees into my hips to help relieve of some the pain during contractions. It did help a lot. What I really wanted was to get up and walk around but I had to get another round of antibiotics and my blood pressure was creeping up again. So I was stuck in the bed in pain. I did my best to work through them with the help of my wonderful husband but by 10:45 PM I was exhausted and at my wits end and my blood pressure was insanely high. Like I was about to have a stroke. It was like 200/110 or something. The last time I was checked I was at 5cm, and about an hour later I started having urges to push and my contractions were out of control. At one point I had 3 contractions that overlapped each other and the peak of the pain lasted about 5 minutes straight and the baby was squirmy so they had me on my side to get his heart rate which for some reason intensified the pain of the contractions and all I could do was lay on the bed and writhe and scream in pain.  So the nurse checked me again and I was at 8cm. I was so relieved to know that the pain was actually moving things along. I thought, Okay, I can definitely do this! I'm almost there! So I asked how much longer, and she told me 3-4 hours at the most. At that point I wanted to cry. I looked that nurse right in the eyes and told her I wanted the epidural. It was strange because I had always feared getting to that point in hospital, where I broke down and decided I wanted drugs and I would get it because it was available even though I probably could have done it without it. But in that moment, I was so exhausted, I would try to close my eyes and rest and then a contraction would hit and rest was not an option and so when I decided to get the epidural, I felt no guilt, I felt no fear, I was in survival mode.

when the anesthesiologist came in I felt like there was a light at the end of the tunnel. Apparently I wasn't breathing very well so they put an oxygen mask on me. Looking back, I'm not sure if I should have been more scared about that mask but I didn't care. contractions were still coming every minute or so. When he told me I had to hold perfectly still while he jabbed me with that sweet sweet poison I was genuinely scared of being paralyzed or something. But I did it. I had a super intense contraction during that moment but I squeezed Tayl's hand as hard as I could and then it was over. 11:45 PM Within minutes I started to feel relief. For the first time in hours, I was able to smile. I wanted to kiss that anesthesiologist on the mouth. I was back to being excited about my baby coming. The strangest part of the epi was that I could move my legs, and I could still feel when I was having a contraction, but I just didn't feel any pain. I thought I would basically be useless from the waist down.

So I was finally able to just rest, I actually slept. Not well, because I could still feel the contractions (not pain). But, it was the rest I needed. I'm not sure I would have been able to push the baby out of me otherwise. Also, my blood pressure dropped dramatically. I was back in normal ranges. Around 4 AM, I started to push and blah blah blah I'll spare you the gory details but at 5:10 AM my little perfect goopy bundle of joy came out of my womb and into this crazy world at 8 pounds 5 oz and 21 inches long.

Looking back, as time has passed, I am totally okay with how things went down. BUT, the first few days I felt a little internal guilt for getting drugged up while I was giving birth to my baby. It made me upset to even think about it. I was ashamed. I didn't think I would ever be able to tell people my birth story let alone put it on my blog. But in the end, I did what was best for both of us in my situation. As we approach Emerson's one month mark, the most valuable thing I have learned is that the worst thing I can do is go online and read what other mom's are doing or have done. Mom world is a scary world. I'm not an expert... yet. But my baby is healthy and growing and happy and so am I, and so that means I'm doing okay. And everyone else in mom world who judges, can suck it.

eviction notice.

Dear small person who has taken up residence inside of my uterus,

While I have really enjoyed the time of your stay over the last 9 months, it's time for you to evacuate the premises. I would ask that you would preferably do so in the next 5 days. (I MEAN IF YOU WANNA HAVE AWESOME HALLOWEEN THEMED BIRTHDAY PARTIES..... just saying.) I realize that you're nice and comfortable up in there, it sounds nice. But unfortunately my body can no longer tolerate 3000 trips to the bathroom a day, (1500 of them being in the middle of the night) the kicking of the ribs (which feels to be with the force of a fun-size Chuck Norris), having to have help to roll my large sumo-like body out of bed or off of the couch, and also, my knees are having a tough time with this extra 30 pounds you've seem to have brought with you.

It probably sounds like I am complaining but I'm not. (Okay, I am a little) But I would tolerate all of these things a hundred times over for you because I love you. Which is weird. We've never even met. The closest we've come to meeting is when you high five me with your feet. (it's my favorite) And anyway, because I love you, I want you to just be out here. Not just for me but for everyone. I don't REALLY wanna share you but I think I probably have to. Your dad is pretty excited. So excited that he's reading about breastfeeding right now and annoying me with facts. He loves to do that. I'm excited for him to be able to take out his desire to teach everything he knows (which is a lot. probably too much for his own good.) on you too instead of just me.

Now I'm rambling. The point is that WE WANT YOU TO BE HERE ALREADY! I mean I hardly sleep anyway and I'm getting pretty bored being at home waiting for you and running out of TV shows to watch on Netflix, so come on out. Anytime. Preferably soon. Like tomorrow. Or Tuesday. Or now.

Plus, I have so many clothes for you to model. The dogs are getting tired of me dressing them up in your clothes.

Okay well, I love you either way. Even if you do decide to be stubborn and not come out until Thanksgiving. (Actually, that would be unacceptable, so don't get any ideas.)

Love,
The landlord aka Mom

ten.

today I am 34 weeks pregnant. and 10 years without my mom.

yep. 10 years.

I didn't think I would make it here. Once I met someone who's mom had died 10 years prior and I thought, there is no way I will be able to last that long without a mom.

But, here I am. And I feel okay. I feel good. I feel happy. As my baby kicks my ribs to hell, I feel better than I have ever felt before on this day. Obviously, there is a hole in my heart that will never be filled, but the people that have come into my life, (and those who have stayed) over the last ten years have made my life worth living. And I love every single one of them. I just feel insanely blessed. I feel blessed that to be alive and healthy. I feel blessed to have the wonderful family that I have and that I acquired through marriage. I feel blessed that I inherited so many wonderful things from my mother, but that her terrible taste in men wasn't one of them. I am sooo happy with where I am today (and I hope that she is too.) and the number one reason is that I have an incredible husband. And soon, we'll be adding a sweet little baby dude to our crew. (Who I know in my heart has already met my mom.)

As life goes on, you never forget the people that you've lost, and the pain never goes away. But time makes things easier and love makes it possible to go on.

You can see past blogs about my beautiful mom here & here. 

this is an update on being pregnant.

I'm really good at being pregnant, but really bad at it at the same time. My already chubby body was basically designed to carry a child. I am really glad I hadn't discovered the joy that is maternity pants before I got pregnant because I probably would have shamefully worn them all the time. I am already dreading the day I have to fold them up and save them for another pregnancy. I am tired a lot of the time, which is actually not hard for me because I was already lazy. I'm fine with resting A LOT. But I'm bad at being pregnant because I haven't been doing things like, taking weekly belly pics, drinking wheat grass shots, and/or scrap booking. My nesting skills are severely lacking unless you consider buying too many adorable and/or ridiculous baby clothes to be nesting.

25 weeks and I need a freaking hair cut.

Two things that are not my favorite thing right now. Number one, hot flashes. Especially while at home during the day. We don't have central air or any air conditioning on the main floor for that matter and our living room can get up to 88 degrees by 3 PM. Combine that with a hot flash and I basically rip my clothes off and cry. Tay does not understand. I'm sure he thinks I'm a crazy person. On Sunday I went in the backyard and laid on the grass in the shade, in my underwear. I didn't even care if the neighbors saw me through the fence. The second thing is getting up to pee in the middle of the night, sometimes multiple times. It wouldn't be that big of a deal if I didn't have to go downstairs to get to the bathroom. I'm seriously considering a bed pan. A fun side story, one of the last nights that the Giddens were in town (better blog about that too.) April and Jamie had a stomach bug. The toilet was occupied for the majority of that night. When I woke up at 3:30 AM to relieve myself, I prayed that it would be free, but it was not. So I did what any desperate person in my situation would do, and I peed the in the backyard. And I'm not ashamed.

Honestly, now that I review these things, it is obvious that the set up of my house is mostly to blame for these discomforts. But I will survive.

I get asked a lot about if I have any weird cravings. I'm not sure if people want me to tell them that I have been eating toilet paper or something. BUT I have fortunately not been interested in anything that would not normally be considered food. There hasn't been anything specific that has lasted my entire pregnancy that I've craved. It really varies. But when I crave something I HAVE TO HAVE IT! Lately the object of my obsession is Mexican food. Namely, tamales. There's a Mexican guy who comes into my work everyday selling Tamales and burritos. He hadn't been in for a couple of months until recently, when one day I was like "MAN I WOULD KILL FOR A TAMALE RIGHT NOW" and then not even 4 minutes later, TAMALE GUY WALKS IN. It was a miracle. A delicious miracle. Ever since then, I can summon him with my mind whenever my craving kicks in. He is my best friend.

In other news, this little dude kicks me like a lot. I shouldn't say kicking because I have no proof that he isn't punching or head butting or butt butting or elbowing. He is most active in the night time. Which is kind of inconvenient but is so cool that sometimes I forget he's keeping me up. I haven't had morning sickness in a few weeks! So that's something to celebrate! Also, lately a thing I do is that I freak about the fact that A) he has to somehow come out of me. B) We will be in charge of not totally ruining his life for the next 18 years. and C) what if he is an ugly baby?
I'm hoping these anxieties will pass, but for now I'm just trying to enjoy all the good stuff while I can. Like people touching my belly, afternoon naps, maternity pants, feeling him move around and having him all to myself, and of course eating food.

Here's my sexiest cutest preggie selfie. try to resist pinning it to your maternity inspiration board, because it will make everyone else look bad. but for real, the face I'm making is a little bit terrifying.

another man.

I never thought there would be room in my heart for loving another man besides Tayl. But then on Saturday I saw that tiny little man junk on the ultrasound and I felt like my heart grew 100x bigger (like the Grinch) to make room for our new little dude.

I didn't really make a secret that I wanted a girl. I wanted one because I had always imagined myself with a girl first. I knew that if I had a girl, I would name her after my mom and we would be bff and I could buy her expensive clothes and I would teach her to hate Disney princesses and be awesome. BUT I knew deep down that I had this little guy inside of me.

So I wasn't disappointed at all when I found out it was a boy, and I wasn't all that surprised either. but I was so happy. I couldn't stop smiling. I always loved this little thing already, but knowing whether it was a boy or not just created this new kind of bonding for me. I'm sure if you're a mama, you understand.

Anyway, enough jibber jabber and onto the pics:

the teeniest weinie in the world.

This picture was the coolest because it was at the end after he had been jabbed on for like 15 minutes
and I felt like it was his way of saying, "OKAY LADY GTFO!" 

SKELETOR!!!!

11 confessions of a girl who doesn't care.

Lately, or maybe it's been for awhile and I just haven't noticed, I feel like the blogging world is getting out of control. I feel like women everywhere are trying ever so desperately to make their lives look perfect in hopes that they will gain another follower for their blog and make people jealous of them. Which I can totally respect the whole becoming a famous blogger and making money off your blog, but I just do not care enough to make my blog be something that people are obsessed with. (Sometimes I even post posts with NO PICTURES! GASP! ) and I think it's crazy to try and make your life something that it isn't to impress people you don't know, or worse people you don't even like.

So today, I am going to tell you things about me so that you know how not perfect my life is. I guess these can be considered confessions

1) I am super stoked for my baby bump to start showing so I can stop trying to suck in my fat belly all the time. I can finally be so fat for a reason.

2) The other day I found dog poop in my closet. How long had it been there? I have no idea. and I didn't clean it up right away. Because I never go in my closet.

3) The other day I ate a sandwich, immediately barfed it up and was hungry again so I ate the rest of Tayl's sandwich.

4) We've lived in our house for 6 months and I have done next to no decorating. Decorating is hard.

5) The other night I didn't want to get out of bed to brush my teeth so I made Taylor bring me a wisp brush instead.

6) When I'm at work and I need to pick a wedgie, fart, or itch my breast (WHY ARE THEY SO ITCHY?) I go in the supply closet so I can do it privately.

7) Clean clothes? They stay in the basket. Or go on the floor. I haven't folded clothes in months.

8) I made Taylor drive me to 6 different Gas stations for a hot dog and then I didn't even finish the hot dog because it wasn't that good.

9) Febreeze and Wrinkle Releaser is just as good as a wash and dry.

10) I haven't cleaned my kitchen since February. Taylor has. But I have not.

11) The other day I made mac n Cheese and the noodles overcooked so I let them sit there for 3 hours, dumped them out, washed the pot and made another box. Those over cooked too. So I threw those away too.

SO TO ALL OF YOU, people who think you're tricking people on the internet into thinking your life is cooler than it is, I KNOW YOU CAN'T BE THAT PERFECT IN REAL LIFE. You might not be as weird and lazy and gross as me, but I'm not jealous of you.

GET IN MY MOUTH: heart-stopping creamy cheesy chicken jalapeno enchiladas

I think things are getting better for me. I haven't been able to make dinner since I was impregnated. I neverknew when just stepping into the kitchen would make me hurl. But tonight, I did it. Without throwing up. So yay!

One of my favorite things about being a grown up is that I can make whatever food I want and I don't have to put things (LIKE ONIONS, BLEH) in food if I don't want. I LOVE white chicken enchiladas, but they always have onions in them and that kinda ruins it for me cause I'm basically a child. Anyway today I wanted chicken enchiladas so I made this recipe up and they ended up being really good they even have Tayl's approval. So here. Feel free to tweak it anyway you want. I'll probably top with sliced jalapenos next time.

3 cups shredded cheese (I used mexican blend)
1 8 oz block Cream Cheese
2 lb chicken breasts
1 can diced Jalepenos
1/2 cup sour cream
1 Tbs sour cream
1 cup whipping cream
1 can green enchilada sauce
10 medium flour tortillas

preheat oven to 375 degrees. cook chicken (I like to boil mine) shred, mix with block of cream cheese, 1 cup shredded cheese, jalapenos, and tablespoon of sour cream. Lightly spray 9x13 glass pan. stuff with mixture and roll tortillas and place in pan seam side down.  set aside. pour whipping cream, sour cream, and enchilada sauce in a bowl, mix with an electric mixer until mixture is a slightly thicker. Pour over rolled tortillas. Then top with 2 cups cheese. Bake for about 30 minutes or until cheese is bubbly. Let rest for 5 minutes before serving. Shovel into yo mouth, enjoy.

FAQs and Pregnancy Promises.

When you tell the world that you're with child, many questions arise. So, I have decided to place here some answers to a couple of frequently asked questions as well as some of my promises to my social networking pals now that I am publicly pregnant.

FAQ #1: When are you due?

My due date is confusing. It is sometime between Halloween and November 4th. But if I have learned anything in my quest for knowledge about child birth, it is that Due Dates don't mean jack SHMIT.

FAQ #2: How far along are you?

As of today, I am 11 weeks and 3 days. if you want to get technical.

FAQ #3: How are you feeling?

Thanks for asking! I feel like crap 80% of the time, and I throw up almost every morning. But when I saw that baby's heartbeat on the ultrasound, it made every gag, every heave over the toilet, every getting up to pee 50 times in the night, every sore breast, every time I feel so tired I can't move off of the couch and even the fact that I can't eat cold deli meat, TOTALLY worth it. Plus, I know that my sickness isn't even close to the worst.

FAQ #4: Was it planned?

We've been married for two years, Tayl has a permanent job, we're homeowners, we've reached our limit of dogs before it starts to get weird, and we're not getting any younger. SO no, it wasn't strategically planned, but it wasn't all that surprising, and it's pretty good timing. SO WE'LL TAKE IT!

Just had to put this up for documentation.

Now with that out of the way, I would like to take just a moment to make some promises I would like to make to you, my peers. (These do not apply to Taylor, namely #1)

Promise #1: I promise that I will not complain about the discomforts of pregnancy on my facebook page, or my blog. The first reason being, it's annoying as hell. The second is that I don't think this is fair  to women who can't conceive, are having trouble conceiving, or have lost babies. And I am so so grateful that I am able to carry my own babies. 

Promise #2: I promise not to over exaggerate the joys of pregnancy.

Promise #3: I promise that I do not want unsolicited advice about the birthing process and I promise that my birth plan is not something I will discuss publicly. 

Promise #4: I promise that I will do my best not to let motherhood make me lame. 

That's really all. I can't promise much more than that. Sorry ya'll.

a slightly sporadic and moderately vague post about love.

Something about the anniversary of things makes everyone sentimental. And today is no different for me, so I apologize in advance.

today we have been married for 2 years. It has blown by so quickly that I can hardly believe it's really been that long. it's so cliche to talk about how quickly time flies, but it seriously does. I'm afraid if I blink I'll open my eyes and it we'll be celebrating 50 years together.

If you could be a fly on the wall in our house (which isn't to say we have a lot of flies in our house...) you might catch me every once in a while saying something along the lines of how sad it is that Taylor and I don't have the kind of "love at first sight" love story. Because it was more like a "Hi, you're a person. Nice to meet you." story the first time we met. But in all seriousness, I wouldn't trade any of it for anything. My whole life, all of the best friendships I've had are with people who had a different impression of me than who I actually was (It's probably because I seem mean and disinterested, but that's just the way my face is, sorry.)
and then as they invested time in me, I grew on them. Because they really got to know me. And getting to know the man who is now my husband was no different.

I could just make a over-zealous facebook status about how MY HUSBAND IS THE BESSSTTTT!!!!! HE BOUGHT ME FLOWERS!!!! But my husband is so much more than that to me. If I could ever even put it in to words, I would. However, I don't know how to. I don't know how to properly explain that after four years with him, I have never for one second thought, "am I with the right person?" even during the times where we don't see eye to eye. It's more than just the butterfly magical feeling that happens at the beginning (which is an amazing feeling nonetheless). And I know this isn't necessarily rare, but with such a high divorce rate in this country, it gives me hope to know that even when I HATE HIM AND I WANT TO PUNCH HIM IN THE FACE FOR BEING A TOTAL IDIOT, I still love the hell out of him and even in those moments I'm not too proud to tell him I love him out loud. And I would literally ruin the life of any person that ever tried to harm him or speak ill of him. I'm being dramatic, but it's true.

I have literally followed this guy all over the world. I married him in Utah and he took me to Hawaii to celebrate, and then to South Carolina for a temporary job, and then to England for training and then to Savannah  and now to Idaho (the glamour of my life has basically completely diminished) And I'd do it a hundred more times if you gave me the chance.

Taylor Giddens is not perfect at all, and neither am I, and even as a couple put together, we are not perfect. But we are perfect FOR each other. (You knew that was coming, didn't you?) I keep trying to spit this all out without saying all the things that have been said or things you expect me to say, but sometimes romantic things are hard to express without sounding overly cliche.

Here are some links to some other times I tried to explain my feelings for this guy publicly on the internet like a freak girl:

This time when it was way too early on to be talking like this but I already knew.

This time when I was being dramatic about how much better Taylor was than my ex-boyfriend (he is though. It's been scientifically proven in a social science experiment I conducted.)

This post where I was trying to be sweet but I am actually kind of rude to single people. Sorry.


Here's to a 1000 more years Tayl. I love you.