Showing posts with label everly. Show all posts
Showing posts with label everly. Show all posts

19 June 2012

everly baby~

Evelyn Rose

Everly Baby

Sweet Little Evs





Some people think younger children in larger families
get left out and overlooked.
I would beg to differ.
I wonder sometimes if it's possible to be loved to death.
One would be hard pressed to find a baby more doted on than you.









You have your own personal fan club.
It's not hard to see why.




I often think that you of the most-heard phrases around here is,
"You are SO cute."
And I think your two oldest brothers say it most of all.

Early in the morning and after naptime
it is often heard,
"Is Everly awake yet?
Can I get Everly up?"




My precious, sweet girl.
My heart.
You are growing up so fast.
Nine months already.
You've now been out longer than you were in.


Today you pulled up for the first time.
I think this is a record for our family.
Two teeth, pulling up,
where has the time gone?
This Mama's heart aches while delighting in your sweetness.


Your uncle has said that by looking at you one can tell you are just nice.
I hadn't thought of it like that before,
but he is right.
You are full of sweetness and light.
You have such a purity about you.
All one has to do is look at you and smile
and your face lights up with genuine joy.
You are so happy.





My heart is full.
How can I be so blessed?
The Father only gives good gifts,
and you,
sweet Evelyn, 
are a delightful treasure.

You are so loved. 





29 November 2011

the baby that couldn't nurse and what happened to her mom ~

I've been thinking about this post for awhile.

Should I write it?  Should I not?
It's not like I'm really "over it," so what do I say?

Ultimately it's a very big part of my life right now and my will always be part of my story with Everly.  Yeah, the blog is public and all, but it's also my mini-diary, so I need to tell it.  For my sake.

...cue the tears.  Again.

Everly doesn't nurse.  There.  I said it.  I, who have nursed all seven of my other children, and nursed two of them well into toddler-hood now have a formula fed baby.  Judge me.  I'd say I don't care, but I do.  A lot.  A whole lot.

I've spent hours at night alternating between shaking my fist at God and then curling up into a ball of tears crying, "Papa, why? Why won't you fix this?"  I never knew it would be this hard.  This emotional.  Sometimes I have felt almost bi-polar or something.  I have swung between being able to trust the Lord in it and being peaceful (albeit still very sad) to being very emotional.  I think I cried through worship at church for a good 10 weeks straight.  At least.  Even now it takes me about 30 seconds to be in tears if I really let myself go.  I can mostly talk about it pretty matter-of-fact but it doesn't take much for me to let myself "go there" and have to fight back the tears.  Mostly I am okay now.  But it's pretty much because I'm just kind of numb.

Glen has been nice, he's been understanding.  But he doesn't get it.  He's a guy.  I guess I can't blame him.

I feel like I have failed my daughter.  
When I listen to the lies of the enemy I hear things like:

"She doesn't need you."
"She doesn't even want you."
"If she gets sick it's all your fault."
"If she isn't as smart as the other kids it's all your fault."
"You shouldn't have been so prideful about nursing your other kids."
"If you had only, if you had only, if you had only..."

Sure, I can tell myself they are lies.  And they are.  They are not.true.  I know that in my heart of hearts.  But it's still super hard to ignore them.  When you go to nurse your daughter and all she does is get really mad and scream it's really hard to not listen to those malicious whispers.  When you read all those studies about how good nursing is and how evil formula is it's really hard to not wonder if maybe, just maybe she wouldn't have that stuffy nose.  It sucks.  Bad.

Part of my problem lies in guilt.  Should I have tried harder?  Should I have tried longer?  Should I not have tried to wean her from using the shield? (She would nurse from a shield the first few weeks.)  Maybe she really is tongue tied and if I'd just taken her to the doctor it never would have been a problem.  Should I have kept the pump I rented longer?  Should I have been willing to sacrifice several hours of every day to pump?

My other difficulty is that I'm not settled in how to view the situation.  Should I view it as satan trying to steal something from me?  Should I have prayed "against it" more?  Or do I believe that for some reason I may never know she didn't need to nurse.  That for some reason it was better for her to have formula.  Glen has celiac, all of our kids have gluten sensitivity.  But I eat gluten.  Maybe it would have caused a huge problem for her and it's the Lord being merciful and protecting her.  (Cue the guilt in that situation.)  Maybe with our family dynamics right now (busy with a very wide range of ages and things going on) the Lord knew she would be just fine with formula and in this season I needed to be able to leave her at home for some reason.  Maybe she is being protected from something.  I.don't.know.  And right now He isn't telling me (um, I might have a few issues with that too....) 

So, how I'm dealing:  Ultimately I'm just trusting God.  It's all I can do.  I can't figure out why (I have my theories; ultimately I think she has a significant tongue tie so even though she can nurse and did for a few weeks it's very hard for her and she learned to prefer a bottle) and it doesn't seem that I can change it.  I still have milk.  I still try occasionally.  I'm hoping maybe one day as she gets older she'll just decide it isn't so bad.  

And mostly I'm believing that if Jesus could turn water into wine, and the Giver of Good Gifts won't give his children a stone when they ask for bread, that he absolutely can turn that formula into the perfect food for her.  He can make it good.  And He is good.  This I know to be true.  So it's okay.  I'm going to be okay.  She's going to be okay.  And it's okay for me to be sad.  I will probably always be sad.  But there is not a day that goes by that I wish I could just go back and start over.  

So if you see me giving my baby a bottle, or the next time you see a mom giving her baby a bottle; don't judge and don't make assumptions.  Just give her a big smile and pray she doesn't turn into a puddle of tears.  
:)


...and for anyone interested in the details, I'm going to detail it all out right here so if for some reason I ever need to remember the progression of things that led down this path I'll have it all written down.




28 November 2011

the birth of everly ~

Wow, it's been awhile since I've done one of these.  Everly's birth was kind of non-dramatic and I just realized I hadn't written about it!  Seeing as how I want to remember all the details it's pretty long.  Fair warning.

I've re-hashed the whole early baby/late baby thing numerous times here, so suffice it to say that when you've had five approximately two-week-early babies, one exactly-on-time baby, and one 15 day late baby that you just don't really know what to expect.  I was particularly uncomfortable at the end of this pregnancy (and bored, SO bored) that I was really hoping she would be early.  She must have been awfully comfy in there because I now have two late babies.  At least it was only three days and not fifteen.  Whew.

To start at the beginning, I just didn't have it in me for a home birth this time.  I didn't feel peaceful about it at all.  Haven and Grace were both 9 1/2 lbs (at 15 days late and 13 days early, respectively) and they were both posterior.  You can read about their births here and here.   Not only were they hard physically (especially Haven's, his was pretty dramatic involving zero pushing stage and being born in the caul) but especially mentally.  My midwife was and is amazing, getting both of them to turn during labor, but it made for long, uncomfortable labors.  I have diastasis pretty badly which I believe contributed to them being posterior and in the event Everly was going to also be posterior I wanted the option of an epidural.  So I went back to my ob that delivered my first three children and initially referred me to my midwife.  I'm so glad I did.  It was a great experience.  And what is up with having THREE 9 1/2 lb babies in a row?  Seriously??

Everly's pregnancy was hard.  I don't think I'd call it my hardest, but it was tiring.  My indigestion was worse than ever before (not that anyone cares, but I'm writing all this done for posterity's sake  :). )  I did all my regular freezer cooking and nesting and by about two weeks prior to her due date I was ready.  Alas, she was not.  So I sat there.  For two weeks.  Wondering if today was the day.  It *was* the beginning of the school year so I had some stuff to occupy me, but I had planned it light not knowing when little Evelyn Rose would make her appearance so it wasn't too big of a deal.  I was so bored.  SO bored.  But I resisted the offers of my doctor to induce me whenever I would like.  He said he was just trying to help me not have to birth another big baby.  I said thanks, but no thanks.  Those first few minutes and hours of realizing it's finally happening are priceless.  Definitely worth waiting for.  It's my favorite part of pregnancy pretty much.  So exciting.

My due date, Thursday, 15 September, came and went.  I remember posting on facebook on Friday night how odd it felt to be waiting to pick up my two oldest kids from a youth group event while being overdue with another sweet baby.  I definitely never imagined I'd be having babies when I had kids in youth group!

On Saturday I had made plans with my aunt to have lunch and go see The Help.  I had secret thoughts of going into labor during the movie but was mentally staying prepared for another very late baby.  We had a great lunch at Red Lobster and then headed to the theatre.  Sure enough, about halfway through I realized I was having some contractions.  Yes!  I discreetly checked my phone and realized that from the onset they were every ten minutes apart.  So I texted Glen and was so content sitting there with my little secret.  When the movie was over I promptly went to the restroom where I discovered that it was definitely the real thing.  I informed my aunt who was going to be the one to keep our kids that she should probably go home and be on call.  She lived with my great aunt and took care of her so we had made plans that my sister Kristen and her husband would come over if it was during the night and my aunt and great aunt would come out in the morning.

I stopped by the store to grab some stuff, went home, did laundry, straightened up, and told the kids.  My contractions pretty much quit while I was moving around but I was losing my mucous plug so I knew things were moving along.  I also realized that she was posterior (she had been anterior up until the last couple of weeks) so I figured it would be another long-ish labor.  I actually really felt that she was more sideways and had mentioned this to my doctor.

(In hindsight I should have known.  That Sunday was our church's day at a nearby YMCA camp which is super fun.  The kids had been looking forward to it all year and I had said so many times that unless we were actually having a baby on. that. very. day. that we would go.  Uh huh.  We had a baby that day.  Poor kids. They took it well.  At least it was raining and they didn't miss out on too much.)

The kids went to bed, Glen and I watched a movie and then went to bed.  I think I slept for about an hour.  My contractions were getting stronger and closer together.  I didn't want to call my sister or wake up Glen because I just wasn't quite ready to be that official yet.  So I sat in the tub and was beginning to have to really breathe through contractions and was having alternating thoughts of wanting to just stay in the tub and thinking I need to get to the hospital so I can get an epidural already.  I should have realized that was a pretty clear sign to go.  Thankfully Glen realized it and said we should probably go.  Not that the birth was imminent or anything but after Haven's literal falling out I think he's just a little nervous.  :)

So we headed to the hospital.  The triage nurse asked (in my opinion kind of disbelieving, like she gets women in all the time "thinking" they are in labor) if I *thought* I was in labor.  I was thinking, "Lady, this is my eighth baby.  Trust me, I'm in labor."  But I just smiled and said that yes, I thought I probably was.  She soon discovered I was about six-seven centimeters so that earned me a trip upstairs to labor and delivery.

Let me back up and say that I was super nervous about having a hospital birth.  Ethan was my last hospital birth and he is about to be ten.  Since then I've become (mostly) anti-vaccine and anti-intervention and I had a lot of concern over how that was going to go down.  After lots of asking questions on facebook I really felt the Holy Spirit telling me to just trust the Father, to pray for favor, and to not worry.  So I did that and was able to quit obsessing.

So when I got to the hospital and they gave me the hospital gown I told them I would really prefer to wear my own clothes.  And they were totally fine with it.  Totally.  They were understanding, accepting, and even sometimes downright supportive of my preferences.  I am so thankful to have had no issues whatsoever.  The only thing was that they insisted on giving her a bath in the nursery and keeping her under the lights for an hour.  I wasn't okay with that.  I thought I could keep her just as warm and I had visions of her lying there hungry and crying and them refusing to bring her to me until the hour had passed.  So we just declined the bath and no problem.

Anyway, when I got upstairs we went through the general questions and of course all the comments about Everly being number eight.  They know my midwife there and I think they found it humerous that I really just wanted a hospital birth for the epidural.  So they got me hooked up and I remember just lying there in the very early morning hours (I had prayed to go into labor and make the trip to the hospital at night, I just love it that way.  It just feels so secret-ish.) watching the contractions growing longer and closer and peaking on the monitor and thinking, "Thank You, Jesus, for epidurals."  True story.  I said it numerous times.  I was dead serious, too.  I did have a moment of pride when the nurse told me I was a good 7 (before the epidural) and asked if I always acted like nothing was really going on when I was at 7.  Ha.  Made me feel good even though I was being a weenie about it this time around.

The night passed and as morning came I began to be in a lot of pain.  Like I-may-as-well-have-been-at-home kind of pain.  The epidural. guy had to come back like four times.  I was having significant pain very low in the front *and* back which was new to me.  I can only imagine what that would have felt like completely sans epidural and at home.  I think I really believe that's why I needed to go to the hospital this time.

Finally they got me dosed up and then it was time.  Yay!  I had been concerned about possibly having to push out a posterior baby.  Susie (the midwife) was always able to get them to turn but I knew with an epidural and laboring just sitting in the bed that I couldn't count on that happening.  But I am glad to say that aside from the whole no-pushing thing with Haven it was by far my easiest pushing stage.  Five minutes.  Tops.  I think three pushes.  SO easy.  I did need a couple of stitches but it wasn't a big deal.  And she came out sideways.  That's what the doctor said.  Sideways.  That explains the pain in the front AND back, I think.

She was and is perfect.  Aside from my particularness  (is that a word?) the rest of the visit was normal and we were allowed to leave the next morning.  I spent a good amount of time worrying that first night about how I was going to decline having my blood drawn the next morning (I didn't feel it was necessary and WHY do they always come in at like 4:30am???) but when the tech came in I groggily said, "I"m declining having my blood drawn," and she gave me a quizzical look, turned around and left.  No one ever said anything about it.  I think they knew I just wanted to have my baby and be left alone.  :)

So that's it.  The birth of little Evs.  Life since then had been anything *but* my typical new baby adjustments but that story is for another time.

Welcome to the world, sweet Everly.  We are so glad you are here.  You are perfect, and you were born at just the right time.




09 November 2011

little evs~


Introducing...

Evelyn Rose
"Everly"

18 September 2011
10:53 AM
9# 8oz











What a little sweetie she is. Sometimes when I snuggle her up under my chin I am so overcome.
My heart is full. She is so precious.


post signature

16 May 2008

the road that pretty much sucked~

Yeah, well, except it didn't.  I mean, if we're being technical.  Since I'm talking about a baby that wouldn't nurse and all.

For anyone that sees this and is confused I'm linking to this post from a different post where I talked about Everly not nursing.  I didn't really want to bore anyone with the details (unless they were interested for some reason) but I wanted to have a record of sorts of what happened for future reference.  So I'm just burying this one by backdating it.  I'm sure there's a much more blogger-savy way of doing it, but I don't know what it is.

Everly was born on Sunday morning.  She "seemed" to nurse and latch just fine that first day.  I noticed she didn't seem to nurse as much as the other kids had but you never know with different birth situations on how hungry, tired, worn out, etc. the baby is so I didn't really think about it a lot. That night she nursed a lot but I could tell she was not latched properly.  I was worn out and just let her nurse incorrectly.  I had a passing thought I might regret that later but then I promptly went back to sleep.

The next day my dad and my sister and her husband came to visit.  I remember that Everly was having a hard time being discreet and staying latched on but again I just chalked it up to being a newborn.  None of my other kids had ever had trouble with it so I just figured we'd get it worked out.

Once my milk started coming in I was really sore.  I lost a good chunk of skin and was bleeding some.  That had never happened to me before.  It was getting to the point where I could not nurse her it was so painful.  It wasn't the normal painful that would pass after 20 or 30 seconds.  It was like scorching, stinging pain.  I finally asked Glen to get a nipple shield in the hopes it would help her open her mouth and latch properly while simultaneously giving me a chance to heal up some.

It was better.  It helped.  It solved those problems.  But she was not getting satisfied.  I finally resorted to giving her a bottle believing she was a very new baby and the priority was making sure she was eating enough.  For the record I do believe that needed to be the priority but I wish at the time I had been aware enough of how things were going downhill and taken educated steps to turn them around.

Things were okay.  I was very frustrated and annoyed at having to use the shield and knew it wasn't doing anything for my milk supply.  I could sometimes get her to nurse without it but I had to sit there with a feeding syringe filled with milk and shoot some into the corner of her mouth pretty regularly to get her to keep going.  I was trying to encourage her to learn to nurse without the shield (what I would give to go back to her nursing with a shield now!) but I didn't realize that it was most likely signifying that she was having a problem latching properly and getting the milk out.  Which in turn caused her to be frustrated and still hungry, which prompted me to feel the need to supplement with a bottle, which only caused her to learn that a bottle was easy.  This, I believe was our ultimate downfall.  If I had only known.

I briefly wondered if she was tongue tied.  The only other baby I had a bit of trouble nursing at first was Noah and he was tongue tied.  His was an obvious, simple tongue tie.  He didn't really have problems nursing I just noticed I was staying sore much longer than normal.  We had his tongue clipped and everything was fine after that.  Everly's tongue didn't look like his so I didn't suspect a tongue tie.  Now that she is older and I watch her learning to make noises and discover her hands and even discover her tongue I am strongly suspecting that she may have more of a significant tongue tie.  Meaning that it's a wide tongue tie, her entire tongue seems to be attached further forward than normal.  It "looks" normal, I think that's why I didn't see it earlier, but it may be attached further forward even though it doesn't have an obvious frenulum. If that makes sense.  That would really explain pretty much every issue and it makes me so frustrated with myself that I didn't just pay more attention earlier.

I tried using a lact-aid which is one of those little things you put the milk in and attach the small tube to yourself so the baby gets lots of milk but also stimulates your supply.  In theory it should have worked but now since I think she is tongue tied it would explain why it did nothing for my supply.

And in hindsight I don't think it really was a supply problem.  I'd never had a supply problem before with a newborn so I thought it was weird, but since she was still obviously hungry I just assumed that was the problem.  If she is indeed tongue tied than it makes sense that it wasn't a supply problem but a problem with her ability to get it out.  And seeing as how I still have a lot of milk and she hasn't nursed in weeks I don't think I have a supply problem.

I also rented a hospital grade medela pump.  I'm not sure why it didn't work for me but I could barely get an ounce or two after 30-45 minutes of pumping.  I could get way more by hand expression.  Not a great long term solution as it made my hands terribly sore.  I kept the pump for a month but since it wasn't giving me hardly anything and was very expensive I returned it.

So eventually she was nursing less and less and began to highly prefer the bottle to the point where she would just cry and get angry if I tried to nurse.  I have tried tricking her while she was falling asleep, during her sleep, and when she would just wake up in be in a great mood.  None of it worked.  She still gets mad every time.

I'm still trying on occasion as and she gets older I'm just hoping that maybe one day she'll decide it's okay.

::sigh::




"How can it be a large career to tell other people’s children about arithmetic, and a small career to tell one’s own children about the universe? How can it be broad to be the same thing to everyone, and narrow to be everything to someone? No; a woman’s function is laborious, but because it is gigantic, not because it is minute. I will pity Mrs. Jones for the hugeness of her task; I will never pity her for its smallness." ~GK Chesterton

2012 November

2012 November