New Mommy Moments...

So, now that I have officially taken on the role of mother, there are several things that I was not anticipating. With a degree in Human Development and Family Studies, and another in nursing, coupled with my time as a pediatric nurse, I considered myself a bit more knowledgeable than the average  new mom. However, theoretical knowledge is only that- theory. What I am talking about here are the practical applications...

The top ten surprises of New Motherhood-

10. Your large and in charge belly doesn't immediately disappear.
- So, I don't know what I thought... that perhaps I'd have the stomach of Jillian Michael's 10 minutes post delivery? Yeah, not even close. My flat tummy still isn't back 6 weeks after delivery. I might need to call Jillian Michaels...

9. Sleeping more than two or three hours at a time is a gift, not a right.
- I'm a nurse. I have worked night shifts. I know sleep deprivation. Plus, I have a thyroid condition. I can handle being tired. But there is very little that prepares you to be up constantly feeding and snuggling a newborn. The walking dead might be a suitable comparison. And when suddenly your baby sleeps 5.5 hours, you still have to get up and pump, plus you worry that your baby is still breathing, or that something is wrong. Well, someday I might sleep again, when my kids are... (my mind quickly scans Benjamin's lifespan) nevermind, I'm never sleeping again.

Benjamin asleep in his crib! What a big boy!

8. Breastfeeding- beautiful, magical, crazy and ouch!
- I love feeding my son- truly. From his first feed, Benjamin has been a stellar little eater. Once I cuaght on- very soon thereafter, nursing seemed to be a cinch. I love the time I get to snuggle him close, and hold his little hand. It fascinates me that my body can provide everything he needs (yet again) to grow and thrive!  Though, a little painful, I was expecting WWIII, the way I have heard people talk. I feel so lucky that breast feeding has come so naturally to me, I know that is not the case for everyone.

7. I have boobs? What?
- Also very surprising, I have boobs! As a small breasted woman, I have never thought much of boobs- until now half my shirts don't fit due to the size of these huge things. Seriously! And, while some women love this "perk" of breast feeding, I could go without leaking breastmilk and being super uncomfortable when Benjamin sleeps for a long time. Thank heavens for breast pumps! I'll be happy when my 'flat as a board' status has been reinstated and I can run, hug my hubby and sleep without boob pain impediment.

6. I have heard of projectile vomit, but projectile poop?
- Yes, this has happened to me. This may not happen to everyone, but my child seems to poop rather violently. Luckily, after careful study, and several Mommy and Benjamin poop-covered episodes, it has been discovered that Benjamin has a poop face. That way, we can prepare for the bombing ahead of time.

5.  Reasonable accommodation is required for motherhood.
- Benjamin loves to be held. It might be the fact that he is so stinking adorable, or maybe that he is a first child, first grandchild, and even a first great grandchild. Perhaps it is that we have had an uncanny number of family events recently, or that I simply want EVERYONE who is dear to me to love my baby, too.  Regardless, Benjamin has been held a great deal in his little life!  And, as a result, he sometimes doesn't want to sleep unless it is in my arms. Now, I love that, because it means he loves me, and I cannot snuggle the little man enough. But, sometimes the house needs to be cleaned, dinner needs to be made, laundry needs to be done, or maybe mommy just needs to walk around. I have found that Benjamin will settle for being toted around in our Ergobaby carrier- thank you to my sister in law who insisted that I only have this one, and bought it for me! But, needless to say, I understand the little schpeel that is given about reasonable accommodation at the start of all of my college classes.

My view of Benjamin's head as he sleeps in the ERGObaby carrier. This day I was trying to make dinner with a fussy baby. No small task.

4.  EVERYTHING my child does is cute. Pictures required.
-  I have become one of those people. I think that my child is hands down the cutest thing in the whole world. I could be crazy, completely duped and horribly wrong. You can agree, lie to me or tell me that I am totally fooled, but the irrational mommy pride is never going to change. And, since my son is so adorable, and so is everything he does, I easily take 5-10 pictures everyday. They are on every electronic device we own with a camera! Thousands of pictures. And, I have to physically restrain myself just about everyday in order to keep myself from inundating Facebook, or the blogging world with images of the same thing over and over. So, I apologize if you are tired of seeing my kid. I'm not. And, I don't think I ever will be.  Ah, well, at least I love my baby, right?

Just a few examples of the aforementioned obsession...

Deep thoughts by Benjamin Buley.

His best no-neck football pose. Prepping for the future, no doubt. 

He is related to the Webb clan, after all.

"Playing" in the bath. He loves the bath. This is a G-rated pic, we have the full monty as well.

Cool dude, Ben. He was pretty entertained while wearing mommy's sunglasses.

Benjamin's Baby Power pose in his sleep. The kid has some strong views already.

His Mister Monkey Pants look.
(The pants actually have a monkey on the bum).

Check out that smile.

3.  My vocabulary has changed just a little.
-  So, before Benjamin came, I told Ken explicitly that I didn't think that I could be called "mommy." I thought I was a little too cool for that. Well, I officially eat those words. I am mommy! Completely and utterly Mommy! And I have a million nicknames for my son: Benjamin Bear, Benjamin Bunny, Bubba, Bebby, Goober, Stinkypants, Pooperhead, Monkey, Monkeypants, Buster, and I'm sure the list will go on. I find myself oogling and googling over my son just about every minute. I say things like, "Can you smile for momma, Ben Bear?," and "Oh, you so cute, Pooperpants Buley."  Yep, two bachelor's degrees, and I am resorting to baby talk. I find some vindication in the fact that Anne Shirley (Anne of Green Gables) addressed this concept in one of her books, stating that she basically couldn't help but gush over her son. I also narrate everything I do for his sake, I tell him that mommy is going to do the laundry, change his diaper, etc.  I consider myself decently intelligent, and I even speak another language, but when it comes to Benjamin, I am a normal mommy, and I oogle and google with the best of mothers everywhere- even sometimes in Hungarian.

2.  Baby gear is awesome, anId invading...
- Well, we are officially baby central.  In every room of our apartment, on just about every surface, and seemingly in every nook and cranny there are baby things. Baby has conquered all of our space. We trip over the bouncer, the burp cloths and binkies are scattered all around, the baby seat is a permanent fixture of our living room. And, in addition, there are a million more baby things to buy! We have three beds for our son- his crib, a pack and play, and a co-sleeper.  The kid has more blankets than I can count (not kidding, I lost track after like 20).  His clothes are innumerable as well.  It's mind-blowing how much stuff we have accumulated, and Benjamin isn't even two months old!

1.  I love my son so completely, so totally and so unconditionally.
-  A friend of mine asked me recently what was my biggest adjustment to motherhood. I racked my brain, and could think of nothing. I have been pretty lucky, in that I seem to have adjusted rather well so far (give me time, that could change). It did take me a few weeks to disengage from work, and I m still realizing that Ken and I are completely consumed with Benjamin, and we have lost the cool couple factor that is innate when you are childless. But I have not yet felt like motherhood is anything but awesome. And, I want to convey my sincerity here, because while I tend to try to be optimistic, I am very realistic, and I'd communicate the reality. And this is it.

What has really shocked me, though, is how instantly I was completely in love with my son. Really. I felt almost immediately the love that Heavenly Father has for him, coupled with my own love. It has been so surreal, there is truly nothing to compare it to. I can only describe it as though I had known this little soul before this life. On my mission, I had a similar experience. I had one area that I knew I was called before this life to serve in. I'd turn a corner, teach a lesson, and meet people, and it was all so familiar, like I had done it before. Very deja-vu- esc.

But this is more intense. I cannot help but feel as though I was called before this life to be Ben's mom. And I am so very honored to have been sent a beautiful, innocent little man to raise, and teach about his Heavenly Father. I am a little overwhelmed when I consider what the role of mother means: it is my job to teach my son, to help him be a good man, and to give him all the tools that he can know for himself the truth, and to return to His Heavenly Father to live. I'm truly humbled to think that Heavenly Father has entrusted his son to Ken and I's care. I have never really been more aware of the principle of eternal families. I cannot express my gratitude, or my wonder at the idea that our Father loved us so much that He gave us the option of being with those we love forever. I never want to be parted from Benjamin or Ken, and I know how I can through obedience to the commandments of God, and special temple ordinances.

Benjamin loves to go to church already!

 Look at that smile. Melts my heart, every time.

So, the most surprising thing about being a new mommy, is that I feel like I was born to be one. Because I was.

Benjamin's Birth Story

Benjamin’s Birth Story

Now that Benjamin is six weeks old, it's time to introduce him the the blogging world... here is the official birth story- all four pages of it. Hold on!

Taken the day before our story begins... yes, I am huge!

Monday, July 23

I had been waiting all weekend for my doctor to return so that we could come up with a plan. When you’re already huge, swollen, and four days overdue, it’s time to talk about eviction, no matter how much you love that baby inside of you. I went to my appointment, only to find that I was still just dilated to two centimeters, and only 70% effaced.  Needless to say, we weren’t any closer to meeting our son than the week before.  Dr. Wilder and I discussed the potential for induction later that week, and she told me she would call me later that day with the official date. After a successful non-stress test to see if the baby was okay, I went home to await the call from the doctor.  When she finally called, the verdict came through; she couldn’t get me in until Thursday July 26, seven days after my due date. I was relieved to have a light at the end of the tunnel, and a plan, but a little disappointed to have to wait to meet my son.

That night, Ken and I resorted to using propaganda. We spoke to my huge belly, telling the baby that the twenty-fourth of July would be the best birthday! He’d always have fireworks to commemorate the day of his birth, there is a parade, and endless barbeques! We told him how much we loved him, how excited we were to meet him! Admittedly, I kind of begged the kid to make his appearance- I was ready for him to come and play.

As if in response to our pleadings, at two am the following morning, (July 24) I awoke as usual to use the restroom (huge baby resting on bladder = frequent trips to the potty). While doing my usual business, there seemed to be a gush of fluids, but I dismissed it.  I went to get back into bed, and another little gush sent me looking for my laptop to research what a rupture of membranes would be like.  As I walked into the living room, there was fluid slowly dripping down my leg.  I never got to the laptop, it was then I decided that my water had broken, and it was go time!

I woke up Ken, which was surprisingly easy compared to previous attempts at rousing him. When I got into the shower, the fluid that was gushing was a tanish-green color, leading me to believe that there was meconium in the fluid. Then we made our way to the hospital.

By 4:30 am, though I was still only dilated to a two, we had earned our ticket into Labor and Delivery and called my mom to come join in the fun.  We spent the morning, Ken, mom and I, watching the Pioneer day parade, taking walks, bouncing on the labor ball, and getting IV antibiotics.  I was in good spirits- my baby was on his way! Labor was bearable and progressing slowly, and I was beginning to get tired.  With Group Beta Strep in the birth canal, the clock was ticking- twenty-four hours after the membranes have ruptured, often there is worry of the infection hurting the baby, and C-section is eminent if the baby is not already close to coming.

At about noon, the residents checked my cervix, and I was dilated to a 4, and 70% effaced.  I had wanted to try to go it unmedicated, fully knowing that drugs might be necessary.  As it turns out, my mother, aunts and grandmother all needed some help to have their labor progress. And at that point, we decided to take some action to make some progress.  After 10 hours of labor, and still not much movement, we decided to ditch the no drugs policy and toss a little pitocin into the mix.

Two long hours later, the pitocin was working its magic- the labor was certainly being augmented.  My contractions were more regular, and a great deal stronger. I was really starting to get tired, and when they evaluated my cervix again, I was still only dilated four centimeters.  I was so tired, that I abandoned my attempt at a pain med free birth.  I got an epidural.  As it turns out, it was the best thing I ever did.

The epidural worked like a charm, for a few hours at least. About five pm, my contractions were going strong, and I was dilated to a six. Unfortunately, my epidural was starting to be less effective on my abdomen. My feet were like cold, hard rocks, but I could feel the pain in my belly. It was around this time that my family came to see me. Nick and Laura came with beautiful flowers, and a gift, and Adam, Jonathan and my dad tagged along.  I was miserable and slightly ornery, and the pain was frustrating.  In fact, Ken, my brothers, and dad gave me a blessing, to help me along in the process. It was a heavensend, and it seemed that everything got a bit more bearable after that.  I’m so grateful for the gospel, and that my Heavenly Father sent His priesthood to help us here on earth.

The time seemed to crawl by, but after several hours of pain, lots of calls to the anesthesiologist and ice chips with snow cone flavoring (my life saver- nothing ever tasted so good), I was still hurting.  My nurse- bless her- decided to rub my lower back.  It was about 9:30 pm or so, and I was convinced that my kid was never coming, well at least he wasn’t coming on Pioneer day.  But, with the rubbing came better pain control.  The more she rubbed, the better I felt.  The epidural was earning its keep again. Ken and my mom both took turns rubbing my back.

By 11:30 pm, it was time to rest.  Admittedly I don’t remember where I was on the dilation scale at this point- I was wasted. I do remember that somewhere along the way we had discovered that the baby wasn’t facing the right way to come out, and once the dilation and effacement processes were complete, we were going to have to turn him.  This might explain why the kiddo wasn’t coming, and why the epidural had a rough time getting the numbing job done.

But, at least I was good and numb.  I think it was about one am on Wednesday, July 25, when they checked me, I was complete (fully dilated and effaced), and they discovered that the little man had turned on his own, and now was time to push. I was twenty-three hours into the labor process, and pushing seemed like the most impossible task that had ever been placed on my little shoulders.  Or maybe on my uterus. Anyway, the pushing journey began.

An hour and a half later, my pushing was pretty lackluster, and I was pooped.  My nurse saw that my efforts had waned, and she made the suggestion of forceps. Now, I was not too excited about forceps, but I was completely exhausted, and I agreed.

I failed to mention that all along, there was some concern about the size of the baby inside me.  Of course, there was no going back now, so they did things to prep for delivery of the massive behemoth in my womb. Things like bring in stools to stand on while they pushed out the baby.  These are the same things that caused the residents to balk at the forceps concept.  I believe the dialog was something like this, “We are concerned that your baby is too big for a forceps delivery.  We could break his collar bone or cause some shoulder dystocia, so we are going to have to take the  forceps off the table. You can either keep pushing, or we can take you to the OR and give you a c-section.”  So that was that, I kept pushing.

In another hour or so (yes about two and a half hours of pushing), we were close. Little guy’s head was right there.  My doctor wasn’t close, though. But, baby was coming anyway. His head came out, and then the doc waltzed in, and quickly donned her gloves and gown, and then out came the rest of the guy, tearing his mommy to the fourth degree.  Apparently this little guy is a ‘go big or go home’ type kiddo right from the start.

The plan had been for Ken to cut the umbilical cord- you know as the father’s privilege.  But our little guy wasn’t breathing when he came out, and the cord was wrapped around his neck.  So my recently arrived doctor cut the cord and handed him off to the team of docs, respiratory therapists and nurses poised and waiting just for this purpose. Ken and my mom immediately crashed toward the bassinet, and I stayed put- the whole rock hard numb legs kept me rather stationery.

Benjamin just minutes after his arrival

I wish that I could say that immediately I was filled with joy and wonder at my son’s entrance to the world, by admittedly, I was really quite out of it.  The teams of doctors were working in tandem, one on me and one on the baby.  It was then that I turned to Ken and somewhat manipulatively said, “Can we name him Benjamin yet?”  Ken finally acquiesced, and our newborn son officially became Benjamin Reed Buley.

Benjamin took his sweet time deciding to breathe, requiring some suction and a few breaths with CPAP.  APGARS were 3 and then 8, and Benjamin eventually (it didn’t take long, but it felt like an eternity to his waiting mom) decided to use his lungs. In the meantime, my doctors were trying to help me deliver my placenta, which did not want to come.

The moment that they placed Benjamin in my arms was emotional.  We captured the tears on film, I was overwhelmed at the beautiful little man in my arms.  He was perfect, and amazing, and mine.  He was remarkably calm, and surprisingly alert, looking around and watching everything as if to take it all in. The raptures, though, had to wait, as I was shaking uncontrollably from the adrenaline of child birth and the drugs in the epidural, and holding my perfect son was rather difficult.

The relief that it was over was palpable in the room, and the aftermath started.  Benjamin had a date with the nursery for observation, and I had a date with the operating room.  The party split up and Daddy Ken went with Benjamin and Grandma Annette went with me to the OR.

I’ll spare you the details of my time under the knife being repaired.  Suffice it to say, I spent a few hours with my stone cold numb legs high in the air and more of that shaking, while skilled doctors put humpty dumpty back together again.  As I lay there, my sweet mom at my side, I remember saying to her, “Mom, I’m not sure I can do that again.”  Her wise reply came, “You don’t have to decide that now.”

At one point, my nurse laughed and asked if I wanted to know how big my baby was… nine pounds, nine point six ounces! Huge baby!!  Ken and I had expected a big boy, but we were shocked by just how big! It was then our little guy was dubbed ‘BIG Ben.’

After I was all back together (at least anatomically), I rejoined Benjamin and Ken.  And it was then that my love affair with my baby started. He is amazing!  My nurse stole him away to show him off, saying, “You gave birth to a three month old!” And soon thereafter we were escorted to the Postpartum unit.

So ends Benjamin’s birth story.   The real fun however, started then!  He is the second best thing I ever did- marrying Ken is the first, of course. I adore Benjamin, and everyday with him is a new adventure.  Sometimes when he is sleeping, I miss him so much, I pick him up just to cuddle him!  I love everything he does, his little cries, his cute lip smacking after he eats, his adorable concerned, grumpy, and happy faces.  I can’t wait for him to get bigger, but I want him to never grow up.  He loves to snuggle with his mommy, and his mommy is completely taken with him.

We love you, Benjamin Bear! All the pain, the exhaustion, the drama, all of it is one hundred percent worth it!  The reward is so much greater than the cost. We love our little Bear so much!

More about our little guy to come…