Showing posts with label birthday. Show all posts
Showing posts with label birthday. Show all posts

Monday, November 17, 2014

Four Years Full Of Danger

November 17, 2010 11:58AM

Wesleyann Sabbath Meyer made her presence known, and it was the most perfect sound in the world.

It was five whole minutes before I got to see her after I first heard her.
Those five minutes felt more like hours.

She earned her nickname early and honestly, and she has been our Danger Baby ever since.

The Angry Midget couldn't wait to meet her new sister.

A year old, and still no teeth.

Every shoe box was a hat.

Visiting her friend Junior. 



Caesar is her snuggle buddy. 


Zoo Camp was a fun diversion this summer,
and got the nod of approval for next summer too.

This year she became my little frozen Elsa.

How is it possible that you are already four years old Little Danger? 

Happy Birthday Darling Girl!

Mama Loves You



Tuesday, July 8, 2014

A Decade Of Midget Anger


The Angry Midget turns ten today. At the exact moment that this post goes live, in fact.

Ten years. That's big folks.

Double digits. Last year on the hands. Last year in elementary school.

My Angry Midget is not so little any more. She's nearly as tall as me. Less than a foot to go.

She is always teaching me. Always. Usually she's teaching me about patience.

Happy Birthday, Midge. I love you. No matter what.





 

 

 













Thursday, November 21, 2013

What I Really Want For My Birthday



Today is my birthday. (Yea!!)

About a week ago, The Angry Midget asked me what I wanted for my birthday. I told her a card and a Kit-Kat would be fine. I didn't really need anything.

Apparently her dad didn't think that was the real answer because he asked me the same question a few days later.

R: So I need to get something for a girlfriend who has a birthday coming up. She's in her mid thirties. What should I get for her?
Me: Well, what does she like?
R: Um, Facebook and I think magic tricks.
Me: Huh. Magic tricks? Really? 
Then there was some discussion of dirty magic tricks he could try. I'll spare you the details.
 Me: Seriously, a card and a Kit-Kat would be fine. I don't really need anything.

Once upon a time I used to want all kinds of stuff for my birthday.  A bike, a Walkman, long dangly earrings, the latest NKOTB tape, purple headphones for my Walkman, Barbies, MLPs... I always had a list at the ready. Now... now I'm old. And practical.
Caspian Interchangeable
Photo Credit: www.knitpicks.com

Sure, there are a few things I'd love to have Knit Picks Harmony Needles and/or Caspian Needles are pretty close to the top of the list.

    
Harmony Interchangeable
Photo Credit: www.woolbin.com

But, there are bills to pay, and I already have a perfectly functional set of needles. These are clearly a want, not a need.

Then, as I was passing by The Angry Midget's Lair, I was struck by inspiration. I knew what I wanted for my birthday.

The request didn't go over very well.
Me: *in the car on the way home from school* I know what I want for my birthday.
TAM: What?!
Me: I want you and your dad to clean your room. Get rid of toys clothes and books that you have outgrown or don't want, and put your clothes in your dresser in an organized fashion.
TAM: Card and a Kit-Kat it is!

*Sigh* Maybe I'll have better luck with R...

Me: I know what I want for my birthday.
R: Too bad. I already got you your present. And your Christmas present too.
Me: Well, you can return it. This won't cost any money. I want you and TAM to clean her room.
R: Oh Man. No way. It's your turn I just cleaned her room last year.
Me: Um, yeah. I just cleaned her room a few weeks ago. It's your turn.
I'll let you know if I get what I asked for.

This is her room in it's current state.
There is still more mess behind me, but it was just too much for the panoramic photo app to handle.

Sunday, July 8, 2012

Happy Birthday Squnnie

Today, at the exact moment that this blog post is scheduled to go live, my angry little midget will be 8 years old.

Thursday, November 17, 2011

Happy Birthday Wesleyann Sabbath



Fair warning, this is a long post.

Wesleyann’s birth story starts out at about noon on Monday, November 15th 2010. I was due on the 9th, so the doctors wanted to do a Bio Physical Profile (BPP). I’d had one with Makaya, and it didn’t end well, so I was stressing out. I sent a text message to our doula, Sabbath. She was the calm collected voice of reason I knew she would be, and she helped me relax and breathe until the appointment later that afternoon.

At the appointment, everything was great with the baby, except for fluid levels. They still gave me a high score, but because of the fluid levels, they suggested delivery as soon as possible. When this was relayed to the doctors in Iowa City, they didn’t seem to share the same sense of urgency. They just wanted me to wait it out and come in for a regular appointment the next day at 2 pm. This was unacceptable. With Makaya, the situation was very similar, there was no fluid, and she was already showing early signs of distress. I didn’t want that to happen to this baby too. After several calls back and forth between myself, Cosette (my midwife in Des Moines) and Sabbath, we all decided to just go.

So at 7 pm on Monday, November 15th, we made “The Calls.” We called Robert’s mom to come watch Makaya, and since she had a two hour drive, we dropped Makaya off at a friend’s house to wait while Robert and I got in the car and set out for Iowa City. We stopped for dinner before leaving town and Sabbath helped us relax, and also pumped us up mentally for what we were about to get ourselves into.

The drive to Iowa City wasn’t as relaxing as I would have planned. Robert had worked that morning, so he had been up since 3:30 that morning. He was falling asleep at the wheel, so I ended up having to drive.

When we got there, thankfully, they were expecting us. I have no idea what Cosette said to the people she talked to, but she certainly worked some magic. We waited for a short while in a family waiting room, I assume they were preparing a room and all the necessary paperwork.

I was anxious and excited. I don’t do well in hospitals, and I was about to start the longest day of my life to date.

Once we were in the room, they checked me so they had a “starting point,” and I was at a ‘fingertip’. This was great news for me because I was already ahead of the game as far as I was concerned. They hooked up the pitocin, I sent out some e-mails, and then we all settled in and waited for the ball to start rolling.

About 3 am, my water broke. The contractions started to pick up, and the roller coaster was moving at full speed.

By mid morning on Tuesday, labor was full on. The contractions were strong and quickly paced, but I was managing. We all thought that the pace I was moving at would give us a baby by dinner. Boy were we wrong.

By Tuesday afternoon, I was working with a nurse named Sun. She was a little Asian lady who was so calm and relaxed. I remember calling her my Zen Garden. She was just what I needed at that point in my labor. She was my anchor, and I appreciated her quiet presence. She would just drift in and out of the room, only bothering us when she really needed to. I remember I was using the birthing ball, and bouncing through contractions while Robert applied pressure to my hips and back. There was a time, two or three contractions maybe, where Sun just squatted in front of me, holding the monitor on my belly so she could get a reading of the baby’s heart on the strip, then once she had what she needed, she made a few notes on the computer, and quietly left the room.

Later, when I was recovering, Robert said when it came time for Sun’s shift to be over, she didn't want to leave. He said that she chased off the next nurse a few times before she reluctantly said good bye to me. This little bit of information makes me smile every time I think about it. She was so sweet, and I really enjoyed her presence and what she brought to my labor.

Labor continued to progress.

My overnight nurse Tuesday evening to Wednesday morning was Emily, and she brought new energy to the space. By this point I had been in labor for 20+ hours, and had been awake for more than 30 hours. I was wearing out, and Emily helped me hang in there. She was amazing, and did everything in her power to keep me from having to get an internal monitor. There was one point where I was on the bed, on hands and knees, and Emily was holding the monitor on my belly as I rocked and moved through several contractions.

Eventually, a wireless telemetry monitor became available, and Sabbath had me get in the tub for a while. It was awesome while the water was nice and hot, but it cooled off really quickly. I remember Sabbath leaving Robert and I alone in the bathroom for a while, and Robert sleeping in a chair while I drifted in that in-between state, not quite asleep not really awake, between contractions. I asked him at one point if I had bad breath. It had been forever since I had last brushed my teeth, and I had been breathing through the contractions (through my mouth) for a really long time. He told me no, but I think he was lying to spare my feelings.

When I couldn’t stand the water any longer, I got out and crawled back into bed.
I was so tired. I just wanted to sleep.

Emily’s shift was ending, but she was so confident that I was going to have a baby soon that she moved the baby warmer into the room, and she had found a little knitted hat for the baby to wear. We were sure that the baby was going to be a boy (no ultrasound, just a gut feeling from mom), so she found a cute little brown and blue hat for him.

It was around this time that I finally gave in and asked for something to take the edge off the contractions so I could rest a bit. They gave me an injection of something, but Robert kept waking me up with his snoring.

I may have thrown a pillow at him. 

It may have also been around this time that I told him to "please stop chewing his fucking gum."

It eventually became clear that an internal monitor was necessary, and after a second injection of pain meds, they placed the monitor.

By now, the morning shift change had happened, and I now had Rachel for my nurse. I remember when she came in for the first time, I looked over at her and said, "I've been doing this for a long time, and I've had a lot of nurses. How about if you're my last nurse, ok?"

By this time I had been in labor for more than 30 hours, and on pitocin the entire time as well. Aside from the few minutes where I dozed between contractions, I hadn't slept for more than 48 hours. I was beyond tired, and I was seriously worn out.

When the three new doctors walked into my room I knew it wasn't going to be good news. I didn't want to hear it, and I felt a deep sense of failure before they even said anything. I will forever remember them as a black cloud that rolled into my room, shooting lightning bolts from their eyes, and disdain from their mouths.

After they left, I broke down. I had failed again. 

Then a spur caught my brain and whispered in my ear, “You don’t have to accept this. Ask for another doctor. You have rights.”

And that’s just what we did, we got a second opinion.

Robert and I asked for a second opinion, and requested a doctor we had worked with earlier on Tuesday, Dr. Fairbanks.

She came up, and gave us her opinion. But then she asked us for ours as well. She talked to us, she listened to us, and she helped us make the best decision possible for everyone, not just the baby. In short, she respected us, and she was awesome and amazing all at one time.
Once the decision had been made, and plans were underway for the C-section, the atmosphere changed.

There was new energy in the room. There were people coming and going, everyone was busy with a task.

And I finally got to brush my teeth.

The staff at the hospital and our doctor in particular worked very hard to respect every request, every issue I had going into the surgery. They called in the head of anesthesiology because the anesthesiologist on call was a man, and I had asked specifically for no men to be present other than my husband.

While I was busy signing forms and getting into the SIHG (standard issue hospital gown), Rachel was busy doing the most important job of the day. She was finding a nurse just for the baby so she wouldn't be taken immediately to the nursery. 

This was huge. With Makaya, because of the circumstances surrounding her birth, it was hours before I got to see her. I didn’t want that to happen again.

I don't think I can ever thank her enough for that gift.

When everything was set, and everyone was in scrubs, we walked to the operating room. It was surreal. I was scared and nervous and excited all at once.

Once we were in there, they realized that my IV was bad, and that’s why it had been hurting me for so long (it wasn’t placed correctly, and for the past two days, it had been killing me. I started calling the hand it was in the “gorilla hand” because I couldn’t bend my hand back, I had to support my weight on my knuckles like a freaking silver backed gorilla.) They replaced my IV, and got the spinal going. I was glad they suggested a spinal instead of an epidural, I really didn’t like the idea of a needle sitting in my spine for a prolonged period of time. *shudder*

At 11:38 they started surgery. Because of the previous C-section, there was a lot of scar tissue to get through, and it was taking a long time.

One of the black cloud doctors suggested that because I had been in labor for so long, and hadn’t progressed any farther was because my uterus was rupturing. I disagreed. Loudly.

When Dr. Fairbanks finally got to my uterus, she announced that I was not in fact rupturing, confirming what I had already asserted earlier, despite the black cloud doctors prediction, and my previous incision was still perfectly intact. 

It took a long time to get through all the layers of scaring, and it was quiet in the room, just murmurs between the doctors and the nurses.

Finally at 11:58 am, Dr. Fairbanks announced, "I see baby!"

There was suddenly so much commotion. Everyone talking and it was so loud I yelled, "SHHHHHH! I can't hear my baby! I missed hearing my daughter; I don't want to miss this one!"

And everyone stopped talking all at once, and then I heard her.

I heard my baby's first cries.

They were beautiful, and I can still hear them when I close my eyes and think about that moment.

It took sooo long for them to bring her to me. It felt like it took longer to bring her to me than it took to cut through to her. In reality it was really about 7 minutes and then I got to see her. 

I got to touch her and hold her and smell her and kiss her, and I haven't stopped since.

I told Robert I wanted to name her Wesleyann to keep his family name, and Sabbath in honor of the person who was so instrumental in helping us have a better birth this time.
He agreed.

That's how our family grew one year ago today.

Happy Birthday Wesleyann Sabbath. I love you more than you will ever know.



...and then I got to see her. 
I got to touch her and hold her and smell her and kiss her, and I haven't stopped since.

Happy Birthday Wesleyann Sabbath.
I love you more than you will ever know.


In honor of what I was doing ALLL day last year, I used my "Birth" mug for my coffee on the 16th.




Thursday, August 11, 2011

Happy Birthday

Today would have been my brother's 31st birthday.

He died nearly two and a half years ago, and I still miss him. I still get that horrible tightness in my chest and the, now familiar, sting in my eyes every time I see a picture of him or think about him.

I've stopped asking when that will go away. I don't think it ever will.

I can't change what happened. I can't go back in time and call him more often or take his keys away. So I do the only thing I can. I remember him.

Calvin with my oldest daughter (his niece) Makaya in August 2004

Calvin William Allen Skinner
August 11, 1980 - April 17, 2009

Saturday, July 9, 2011

Makaya Simone

Happy birthday my sweet baby girl!

Seven years ago, you took your first breath...


...And my world hasn't been the same since.

It seems like I blinked and you were already walking and talking.


Pretty soon, you were a year old.

As the years flew by, time seemed to pick up speed as if it were a ball rolling down a steep hill.

One...

Two...

Three...

Four...

Five...


Six...

Seven...



Oh...

Wow. It's a little hard to breathe, give me a minute.

My sweet baby girl is seven. The angriest of midgets, is almost a second grader. 

I am so proud of the person you are and I need to tell you that more often. You are so grown up and capable of so much. I see your endless energy and potential every time I look at you, and I see your vast ability to love everyone and everything every time I see you with your baby sister. You are my first baby and you will always be my sweet baby girl, no matter what you do, where you go, or how old you are.

I love you, Squnnie. All the way to the moon...and back.

Love,
Mama