Best Friends

Let me start this blog post by saying this: PLEASE do not think this is about you. Any of you. This is about me. These are my thoughts, feelings, rantings, etc. It is my time to be selfish and talk about me and my needs. So, here I go.

Growing up, I always had a "best friend." We would do everything together, and we liked all of the same things. Into middle school and high school, I had one or two. Again, we were inseparable. Sleepovers were pretty much a weekly thing, we could talk on the phone for hours, and I knew I could trust them with everything. However, after we graduated, we grew apart which is unfortunately normal.

As an adult (did I really just label myself as an adult? yuck!), I have found myself longing for that "best friend." Someone I could hang out with often, text all of the time about nothing and everything, and confide in. I wanted to just enjoy each other's company all of the time no matter what chapter of life we were in. Once I thought I had found "the one," something would happen where I would feel let down. I always felt like I was the one who put all of the effort into making the friendship work. If the other person didn't text me, then I thought there was something wrong. If the other person didn't include me like I wanted to include them, then I felt sad and like I did something to offend them. I constantly feel like I love more than I am loved. I blamed myself for trying too hard because I figured I was being too needy. Remember my post about Belle? I was serious when I said I don't give up easily.

Well, as it turns out, my personality is the reason I am being let down. What am I talking about? you ask? Let me explain:

At work, we took a very simple personality test called The Enneagram. This test helps us understand our motives, needs, and fears from a spiritual standpoint. For those of you who don't know, I work for a Christian preschool. 

This test said: I am "The Helper." Caring, generous, possessive. You have a problem, I am here to help you... My driving need/motive behind my actions is to be loved. I am a caretaker, loving, and I have a servant's heart. My basic fear is being unworthy of love, and I desire to be loved. My downfall is feeling resentment towards others because I feel let down by everyone because I don't feel like I am being loved like I am giving. What I need to do is stop, think, and remember that I am loved. People show love differently. I should also stop trying to take care of others and take care of myself.

When I got those results, I seriously almost cried. Yeah, I know, I'm emotional. This is spot on. Right on the money. I know that I am a good friend and am willing to sacrifice parts of my life to make time for others. It's a little harder now with a baby, but I love hanging out with people. I love being around others. I am such an extroverted, outgoing, bubbly person that being away from my friends is hard for me. When I don't get that need filled, it hurts. That's why I felt like there was an empty place that I needed to fill with a "best friend," but every time I tried to fill it, I was let down.

However, I do know someone who will NEVER let me down. He will always be there, and He absolutely loves me way more than I could ever love. He is the ultimate best friend. His name is Jesus. In fact, He loves me so much, He paid for my sins on the cross and saved me from my sins. He loves to listen to me talk to Him all of the time, and I have no doubt that He hears me. Yes, it is still hard for me not to label someone as my "best friend" other than my husband of course, but Jesus has filled that spot and He isn't going anywhere! 

I can say with joy in my heart that I do have some amazing close friends, but labeling someone as a "best friend" will only let me down in the end. I praise God for the people He has put into my life. Things change, people change, but He remains the same yesterday, today and forever!

Feeding Your Baby

I don't really know how to begin this entry, but I guess I'll start off by saying that breastfeeding is wonderful. It's so good for you and your baby. Your baby gets so much nutrition from the breast, and the bonding time is fantastic. Research shows that babies who nurse have stronger immune systems, are less likely to have allergies, have fewer ear infections, are smarter and can walk on water.

Oh wait...I'm sorry, I may have exaggerated the last couple of statements. Nursing your baby is extremely good for him/her and for you as the mom. I mean, you burn calories by breastfeeding! How wonderful is that? Plus, it's easily accessible and your baby doesn't have to wait when he/she is screaming for food. Did I also mention it's free?

You see, there are tons of blog posts and research out there that tells you that nursing your baby is best. That there are so many benefits to doing so, and those benefits outweigh the difficulties that come with nursing. What? Nursing isn't easy? HA! No, it isn't. 

Let me tell you something: it doesn't make you a bad mom if you do not nurse your child. Feeding your baby formula is just as nutritional and wonderful as nursing. 

I tried to nurse Ryan for the first 3 weeks of his life. I tried everything to get my milk to flow: I ate oatmeal, drank special teas, pumped constantly, drank tons of water, and saw a lactation specialist. I read blogs on how to nurse. I prayed hard. I asked my closest friends for advice. Nothing seemed to work. I was constantly crying and stressing because I didn't think Ryan was getting enough from me. I always had to supplement with formula anyway since he would pull away from me screaming. I felt like a failure. I couldn't nurse my child like everyone else I knew, so that made me a bad mom.

Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. My mom came to me and told me feeding Ryan strictly formula does not make me a bad mommy. I needed to do what was best for both Ryan and myself. I was horribly stressed out trying to nurse him, and that was stressing out my tiny baby boy. It had been 3 weeks and nothing was coming from me. I cried, but I knew that I had to stop trying. Bottles take time to make. Formula does get expensive. However, trying to nurse was doing more harm than good. I never felt a "let down," which is a tingling sensation when your milk comes in, my breasts never felt swollen, Ryan wasn't swallowing when he was nursing, and I wasn't leaking whenever Ryan cried.

I stopped nursing, and Ryan and I became much happier for it. He is a well fed, happy, healthy baby who is growing just fine, and that is something I am more than fine with! We still have a great time bonding as I'm feeding him, PLUS others get a chance to feed him and bond with him. I was a formula baby, and I turned out just fine. It's perfectly okay not to breastfeed. If it doesn't work out, then stressing won't solve the problem. Believe me, I honestly felt like I was going to be judged for not nursing. Silly me! No one I know judges me. No one looks down at me for using formula. In fact, I have never felt more supported. I just had to remember something very important that every new mom needs to hear: I am not other moms!

So, do what is best for you and your baby. Ryan is thriving, and I am totally happy with my decision! 

Birth Story

Here is a disclaimer about this coming post: it contains some graphic imagery. If you can't handle blood, pain, or...blood, then you should read this post anyway. ;)

Thursday, April 2nd, was the day my body tried to tell me Ryan was coming. Starting at around 1:00am, I got crazy sick. I was throwing up all night and into the morning. I had a really easy 34 weeks of pregnancy up to this point, so I just figured it was something that I ate that had caused me to get sick. As the day went on, I felt better. 

By Friday, I was totally fine. So, I went to WonderCon that weekend with my friend Misty, and I knew I would be fine going. I felt great the whole time. That whole weekend was normal. I wasn't sick, Ryan was moving around like normal. I didn't think anymore on my being sick.

Monday came, and I had the day off of work. My sister, Kylee, came over to help me organize baby stuff, wash baby clothes, and to do my hair. Again, I felt totally normal. I used that day to "nest," which just means getting my house in order for Ryan to arrive in 4-6 weeks from now. Monday night, as I was getting ready for bed, my lower back started to hurt. I figured it was just from doing a lot that day, so I didn't think anything of it. Plus, I was used to having back pain.

I could not sleep that night. We had gone to bed around 9:00, and I could not get comfortable. This is totally normal while in your final trimester of pregnancy, but the way I felt was not. I started to panic because this back pain wasn't something I was going to be able to sleep off. I called the Labor and Delivery advice line at my hospital. I told the nurse about my back pain, and she told me not to worry; I was probably just dehydrated. Oh, good! I was told to drink as much water as I could, so that's what I did.

An hour or so went by without any pain, so I was able to sleep for a little while. Then, the pain woke me up at around 3:00 Tuesday morning. I just stayed in bed, awake and completely uncomfortable, until it was time for me to get up to go to work at 5:30. 

(Warning: blood) When I got up to go to the bathroom after my alarm went off, it felt like I had peed in my pants a tiny bit. I thought, seriously, that's going to start...It wasn't pee. Or water. It was a glob of blood. Needless to say, I really started to freak out! I was worried that something really bad was going to happen to Ryan. Again, I called the nurse and she told me that my mucus plug had come out, which can happen up to 2 weeks before baby comes and to put a pad on in case there was any more bleeding. Oh, okay good. Everything should be fine. Except my back still really hurts...I was contemplating not going into work, but the teacher I work in my classroom with was already going to be out that day. So, I continued getting ready. When I was eating breakfast, I couldn't stand up straight. The pain was worse than before, and it was coming and going more frequently. This being my first pregnancy, I thought this was normal...

I got in the car to head to work, when something (I'm going to say God) told me not to go to work and to go get checked out. I called my boss to let her know something was going on, and she completely understood. I called my mom and asked if she would be willing to take me to the hospital, and she said that chances are good I was in preterm labor and they were going to put me on bed rest. Great. This was such an easy pregnancy, and NOW I'm going to be out of work? 

Once I got to my mom's house, I was having a hard time standing up. She let me know that I could be in actual labor and having back labor, but I didn't want to believe her since I was only 35 weeks along. She said to just be prepared...I definitely wasn't. 

When we got to the hospital, they put me in a (really nice!) labor and delivery room and had me change into a gown. By this time, my bleeding had gotten heavier, and my mom began to time my back pain. It was coming every 10-15 minutes...that means contractions. I was having back labor...A nurse finally came in and checked my cervix to see what was going on. The words that came out of her mouth were unbelievable. "Honey, you're about 5.5-6 centimeters dilated. You're having this baby today." WHAT IN THE WORLD?! I had been having back labor all night long and I had no idea. I didn't have my carseat installed, my diaper bag was at home, my husband was working in San Diego, and I was just not ready.

Well guess what? Babies come whether you're ready or not! Now that I knew I was in labor, the intense pain made way more sense. They were contractions. Crazy, painful, debilitating contractions. In my back. I have been told back labor is way more painful than "regular" labor. I called my husband to let him know he needed to come home, and I had to text my boss to let her know I wouldn't be coming back to work! By the way, I still had 3 more weeks of work. 

They shoved an IV in my arm so I would stay hydrated and hooked me up to a monitor for my contractions and baby's heat beat. I requested an exercise ball to sit on, so every time I had a contraction I could lean forward and have my mom push on my back as hard as she could. This helped with the pain a smidgen, but boy was it still there. I had to remember to breathe through them so Ryan could get the oxygen he needed. Breathing also made them slightly more bearable.

I got to 7 cm, and my water still hadn't broken, so they had to break it for me. Boy was that a lot of water! That warm, gushing water seemed to never end. It is nothing like they show in movies or on T.V. Once that was over, I could not take the pain anymore. I wanted an epidural. I was in so much pain, there was no way I was going to make it all of the way like I had hoped. My husband got there just before they administered the epidural. To be honest, that didn't really hurt at all, and the doctor giving it to me was super kind and encouraging. Once the medicine was in, the pain subsided. I thought that everything was now going to be just fine.

I noticed the nurses and doctors watching Ryan's heart rate very closely. They gave me an oxygen mask, and that's when panic set in. What was going on with my baby boy? Giving me oxygen means he isn't doing well! Someone tell me what is going on! The nurses began turning me over from side to side. Apparently, he wasn't tolerating labor very well, so they were trying to get him into a better position. Since I couldn't move my legs, I felt like a beached whale lying there being flipped around every minute or two. The main doctor who was assigned to me let me know that I may need to have a C-section since Ryan wasn't in a good spot. She didn't want me going any further into labor so that the procedure wouldn't become an emergency. I could do nothing but cry. I did not want a C-section, but I knew it would have to be the right choice to keep Ryan safe and healthy.

I signed a waver, which was very difficult to do with wires and an IV attached to you, saying that I would be fine with a C-section. My doctor called it, and they wheeled me into the operating room. I couldn't stop crying. I was so scared. The nurses, anesthesiologist, and my husband kept reassuring me that everything would be fine and that this wasn't my fault. These things happen, and our goal was to get Ryan into this world safely.

When I got to the O.R, they began to numb me completely from the waist down. Once I was numb, my husband was able to come in, and he kept telling me how great I was doing. The darn medicine made me shiver uncontrollably. I heard the doctor say, "Incision," and I felt some tugging, and then I heard screaming. He was here. Ryan Charles. 5 weeks early. April 7, 2015.

They cleaned him up and let my husband hold him so I could see him. When you have a C-section, you have to wait until they put you back together before you can hold your baby. Since he was premature, they had to take him to the Neonatal ICU to make sure everything was working properly.

Once they sewed me up and I had recovered for about an hour, they wheeled me into the NICU to see him. He was the tiniest, most precious baby I have ever gotten to hold. And he was mine. He weighed 4 pounds, 13 ounces, and he was 18 inches long. He was completely healthy. Unfortunately, he did have to say in the NICU for 8 days, but that was just because he had to learn how to eat enough before he could go home. Bringing him home on April 15th was the greatest day of our lives.

I am Belle

Alright, this post is probably 10% about me and 90% about Once Upon A Time. Specifically, this post is about Belle. Also, it's not very long. I hope that's okay!

I love Belle. I always have. From the days of Beauty and the Beast, she has been a favorite of mine. I totally feel like she is the character I can relate to the most from OUAT. I am the type of person who really searches for the good in others. I am not one who is quick to judge, and I definitely wear my heart on my sleeve. Belle fell in love with Rumple at his worst and had a desire to help him work through his darkness.

In high school, I found myself dating guys who I thought I could "fix." Alas, those relationships failed because reality is not a fairytale. (SAY WHAT?!)

I love the way Belle held on to Rumple. She didn't give up on him, and she put every ounce of faith she had in him that she could. She wanted so badly to believe he could change for the better and defeat his dark side. (My mind immediately thinks of Star Wars when I use the phrase "dark side," but I digress...) Belle wanted to trust that Rumple would put aside his darkness and lust for power.

And for a moment, she thought he did. We all did. I was so excited when I thought that he gave his dagger to Belle and embraced his love for her over his love for power. Obviously, that didn't happen, and for a while Belle was oblivious. That didn't make her weak. Loving him was probably the strongest thing, in my opinion, anyone could have done. It was a huge risk, loving the Dark One. I am really hoping that, in season 5, we can see them repair their marriage since he isn't the Dark One anymore.

I am the friend who holds on. I believe there is good in everyone, and if I hold on long enough, then it will shine through. I don't give up easily on relationships of any kind. If you need a friend, then you've got a friend in me! Belle, I feel, is the friend everyone needs. The people of Storybrooke can seek her for confidence, encouragement, and hope. With that, I'm pretty sure Belle is my spirit animal.