Mrs. H

Oh, the Difference a Week Makes

Caution – if you don’t want to read my birth story, don’t read it. And if you don’t like how something of it went personally, get over yourself and realize that this is MY birth story. Every single one is different. It’s not the story I had with Becca, it’s not the story anyone else would have. God had a perfect plan to get Grayson here, and that’s what HE did. Negative comments WILL be deleted.

This time one week ago, I was laying in a hospital bed. We checked in to the “Women & Baby Center” at Christus Santa Rosa Westover Hills Hospital one minute after 9pm on Sunday night, May 25. The check-in process took a while, and then the wait began. The countdown to midnight.

After delivering a 7 pound 10 ounce baby girl that was too large for my womanly areas and having what was deemed to be “worse than” a 4th degree episiotomy, we had been watching the size of this little guy closely. The goal was to induce at EXACTLY 39 weeks, so that I could have the vaginal delivery that I wanted, and hopefully avoid a life-changing, life-shattering second episiotomy by delivering a baby her size or larger. Thus the wait until midnight – the wait until 39 weeks (for legal reasons). The moment the clock struck 12, the nurse was in my room turning on the drip. They were good – they knew exactly what needed to be done, and were there to set everything in motion.

I had been told the drip would be slow until 5am, when the doctor would be willing to come in if I was in labor. For some reason, she preferred me to not deliver in the middle of the night. Ha! Beauty sleep, perhaps. Hey, keeping the dr happy is important here! And, slow is best. So I laid around in a super uncomfortable bed, paced the floor in the tiny area that my fetal monitor cords would reach, and occasionally unplugged for the extra 6 steps needed to reach the bathroom. But to say progress was slow would be an understatement. I seriously felt like this baby was NEVER going to get here!

As they continued to turn the pitocin up, I learned the definition of “back labor”… never had that experience before, and I must say it’s not the best way to labor. Certainly not in a hard, unforgiving bed! At shift change, I said goodbye to my two fabulous night nurses, Brenna and Dina, and said hello to my new best friend for the day. Jennifer was sweet, caring, and encouraging throughout the whole process – exactly the person you want by your side when you’re about to push a tiny being out of your even tinier girl parts.

By around 8:30, I was predicting when I’d need the epidural, but my contractions were spaced far enough apart, and all in my back, so I kept holding off and holding off. Finally at one point, she let me know that the anesthesiologist was next door, setting up the epidural for that mama, and since he was now in the building, whenever I ordered mine, I’d be able to have relief in about 30 minutes from the time of the request. I kept holding off. My water still hadn’t broken, and I was really wondering why. It broke so quickly with Becca. I was hoping that the dr wouldn’t have to come and break it, and I was also a tad concerned because my external contraction monitor wasn’t registering very well (since they were all in my back), and there was talk of doing an intra-uterine monitor so they could have a better picture of what was going on. My dilation progress was going slow, and they wanted to know why.

And then it happened. I just shifted a bit in the bed, and I knew. The dr wouldn’t be breaking my water for me. Nope. He finally decided it was time to move and break it himself. Not too long after (though the time does seem to blur for me – maybe an hour passed), I said it was time for the epidural, and though I could have gone longer, I felt it wise not to get to the point of delirium like I had with Becca before asking for it. I’m glad I did. The anesthesiologist was very friendly, explained everything he was doing, and the whole process went really well until I told them “I’m feeling really dizzy”… they quickly had me lay on my left side, and the world began to right itself. The sudden flood of relief from the pain was just a bit more than my brain could comprehend, I think! Gave Cody a good scare though.

That was around lunchtime… so fast forward to about 3:00 and things were really getting underway. My dilation was still slow, but I was making good progress, and they helped me turn to my sides every 20 minutes. I got the epidural turned up when a touch of the power boost button didn’t provide any relief. And then around 4:00, Jennifer came in to check me again. I was an 8, and she told me that if I felt like I needed to push, I needed to send mom or Cody out to get her immediately. She had me lay a certain way on my side with one leg bent a little. I’m not sure how much time passed, but I know it wasn’t very long at all – maybe 5 or 10 minutes, and I felt the sudden urge to push. Mom gathered her things and left for the waiting room, Jennifer was quickly there, they got me on my back, and before she could even check me, she said she could see his head. Then the waiting began.

They attempted to contact my dr, but to no avail. Multiple times. You see, we were having horrible storms and what we didn’t know was that she was in HEB buying groceries, unaware that her cell phone had no service inside the building. So while she shopped, I waited. Jennifer and a resident dr were there by me with Cody non-stop, telling me not to push. And with every contraction, Grayson was pushing his way down, trying to get out of the giant crushing machine that had been his safe haven for the past nine months. Finally, the resident assured me she had delivered “some” babies before, and that if for some reason I got to the point where I HAD to push, she could deliver the baby for me. Which did re-assure me some. But thankfully, just after 5:00, Dr. Allsup arrived and everyone started prepping for delivery! Before she could even check me, she said “Well, this boy’s got hair!” Very reassuring for a mama who had delivery issues before – to know that he really was right there at the door ready to arrive. She also seemed to think that his time sitting there might have helped things stretch a bit in a healthy way. We hoped for the best, got ready, and waited for a contraction. They were much fewer and farther between, because in the wait time, they had turned my pitocin WAY down so that my contractions wouldn’t be too hard and fast. But, in three or four sets of four or five hard pushes, he was here! The room was full of residents and new nurses, and everyone was cheering me on. I felt like I had a full cheerleading squad right there to celebrate this amazing experience. It was truly incredible.

I had expressed before delivery that I really only had three things on my “birth plan” – things I had learned from Becca’s delivery.
1. Do NOT try to get me to look in a mirror while pushing.
2. Do NOT try to get me to touch the baby’s head while pushing.
3. I WANT TO HOLD MY BABY ASAP! (With Becca, I didn’t get to hold her until way after my episiotomy stitch-up was complete)
Jennifer had expressed that those three wishes would be EASY to follow, and that as soon as he was delivered, they could put Grayson on my belly/chest for me to hold him! WOW. I thought that sounded amazing.

But what I could never have expected would be exactly HOW amazing that was. He arrived in this world at 5:52pm, and his daddy cut the umbilical cord. By 5:53pm, my external monitors were off, and he was laying on top of me, screaming at the top of his lungs. It was the most amazing experience EVER. The first moment he opened his eyes, I was the person he saw. Exactly the way it should be. Perfect. His daddy was right there with me, and we talked to him, comforted him, and enjoyed being with him while the hubbub of delivery clean up swirled around us. It was like we were inside a snow globe. We were stationery while the air around was full of excitement and activity.

I had a tiny 1st degree tear, but my dr felt it best because of my past to give me a couple layers of stitches to ensure perfect healing. And then the amazing thing happened – we finally sent him to be weighed and measured. And he weighed exactly the same as his sister – 7 pounds 10 ounces. I had the delivery I wanted, and was amazingly fairly unscathed by it. The extra 45-50 minutes of waiting on the dr was exactly what God had planned for my body.

Time passed, and Cody went out to the waiting room and brought Becca in. She met her little brother for the first time, and it was truly a precious occasion. Then the family came in – Cody’s parents and my mom where there, and everyone was in awe of this tiny little miracle.

We both did amazingly well – he passed all of his tests with flying colors, and I was healing so well that we both got to go home Tuesday night – released a mere 27+ hours after delivery. The week at home went well as we slowly adjusted to life as a family of four, and got used to trading shifts in the night for feeding. We’ve already conquered stomach issues with the first formula, and he is doing much better on this one, though at his two week checkup, our dr may switch him over to lactose free formula if he’s still spitting up this much. Looks like both of our kids may end up lactose intolerant. They are both the same blood type, weighed the same, look very much the same, but we know they will each be their own people, and we are anxious to watch and see Grayson’s personality emerge in the coming months and years.

Nothing can prepare you for what it’s like to be a mom. And nothing can prepare you for what it’s like to be a mom of two. It’s the greatest blessing God could give, and the biggest challenge He could place in front of us. But I see what a difference just one week makes, and I know that those weeks will fold into months, and disappear into years, and this little tiny baby boy who is laying next to me right now will no doubt surpass me in height, possess skills I could never dream to have, and go on great adventures I’ve never experienced. Just like his sister, I love him with my whole heart, and I truly can’t wait to see the man he will someday become. For now, though, I’ll take each minute, each hour, each day, each week, and be thankful that I have this time to enjoy with him while he’s so tiny and small.

My snuggle bug. My little teddy bear. Our little Ace. Our handsome son. Grayson Cody Hinnant. I love you, sweet one. You were worth every SINGLE moment of those almost 18 hours. And always will be.

Preparing for Baby Brother

I often wonder what Becca is thinking. But lately, she’s able to express that so much better, and I find it fun how much she likes to go in Grayson’s room, play with his toys, and sit in his car seat (it’s on the floor by the door in his room). She has gotten better at saying his name, too. He’s no longer “Dayson,” but is now regularly “Grayson.”
I’ve been struggling with the fact that he’s not here yet- dying to finally hold my baby boy in my arms! And it didn’t really hit me until this week that Becca might be really ready for him to arrive, too! She seems to fully understand that a baby is coming- she looks at the tiny diapers and sees her old crib and changing table all ready for a boy, and I think she’s starting to get it. She saw a pregnant woman at the grocery store yesterday, pointed, and said “Baby in dere! Grayson? No, Grayson mommy tummy.” That’s when it fully hit me that maybe she understands more than I think she does!
A friend suggested a craft project- her son did a painting for their new baby girl’s room before she was born as a way to prepare for the impending birth. I loved the idea! So yesterday we trekked to Hobby Lobby, where Becca picked out blue paint, an oval canvas, and an airplane- to make a painting for her lil bubba’s room. She was SO EXCITED! When we got home, she painted the entire oval blue, and then after her nap she had help to paint his name in white paint and then used her fingers to paint white clouds. She had so much fun and talked about painting that “oh-fal” all evening. After she went to bed, I attached the airplane and her daddy hung the canvas over Grayson’s crib. I know she’ll be so excited to see it hanging up today, and I bet she tells Grayson a million times that she painted that for him.
What a fun, easy, inexpensive (esp since Hobby Lobby had canvases 50% off this week!) project to really help her feel included in the preparations for baby brother!
Now if only he would get here….

Santa Claus… And his Spring counterpart

Well, so last December as the Christmastime neared, Cody and I did what every parent of a young child does. We took Becca to see Santa Claus and get the famed photos. Except our little Christmas elf didn’t want ANY part of being in a picture with a crazy old man in a bright red suit sitting in front of a gorgeously decorated backdrop. She cried. No, actually, she screamed in terror. (Seriously, ya’ll… I was glad there were no other kids in line or they might have changed their minds about sharing their present wishes with the old cherub.) So, we did the next thing all good parents do, and we forced the issue. We ended up getting some super cute pictures with her sitting in front of the Christmas tree- in mommy’s lap… A safe distance away from said man-in-red. Fast forward a couple weeks and we relived the whole scene again… Altho thankfully she didn’t scream, and we already had some ok pics so we didn’t force the issue.

Well, so yesterday it came time for Becca to meet Santa’s Spring counterpart for the very first time. We took her to Chickfila for their Easter celebration, and I honestly wasn’t sure what she would do. The odds were stacked against me:
1. A restaurant we don’t go to very often (we usually visit a different location).
2. Tons of people she didn’t know after a weekend of over-stimulation and a day of just wanting to be by herself in her room.
3. A person she didn’t know dressed in a head-to-toe costume making them no longer look even partially human.
4. A character she didn’t recognize (she LOVES the Sesame Street characters at Sea World).

So yes, it was a bit crazy on my part to think it would go well, but I conjered up that wonderful parent who forced her child to take pictures with the Old Guy and off we went- her dressed in a cute springy outfit from my mom, and me armed with, well, nothing but George.

George- who stayed in the diaper bag from the time we got out of the car until the time we got back in it. She was a pro! We arrived 10 mins before the event started, and already the restaurant was so packed that we got the last high chair, and sat at a table for two! But she ate her dinner, and did a fabulous job making her Easter egg foam magnet craft.

And then, she met him. The big, white, fluffy bunny. Her new bestie. I seriously think she would have stayed and hung out with him longer if we could have let her. She was fascinated. Enthralled. In love.

As we got in the car, the talking began. “Bye bye, Eas-er bunny! See you waiter!” I didn’t have the heart to tell her it’d probably be a year before she’d run into him again. All the way home was this and that about the Eas-er bunny and Eas-er cow. (Yup, there’s one of those, too, folks… She wears pink and has a huge bow and ginormous eye lashes. She’s a bit scary, in my books, but Becca loved her, too!)

All in all, it was a fabulous evening, and though I’m surprised at the outcome, it’s definitely a pleasant-sort-of suprised, and I’m also hopeful… Hopeful that maybe THIS winter will be different, and maybe she’ll let the Big Man Himself hold her on HIS knee for a picture. Maybe if he’s at Chickfila…

God’s Gracie

So back at the beginning of the year, I set a goal- to be more thoughtful. It seems ironic, now- for a pregnant woman to attempt thoughtfulness. They don’t call it “Baby Brain” for nothin, ya’ll. Seriously. Some days I’m doing good to remember if I put on deoderant and brushed my teeth, much less if someone’s birthday is coming up, or they’ve been ill or on a job search. And, sadly enough, here is is only early April… And already my focus has been less on others and more on the mirror- and my ever-growing midsection.

It’s hard to be pregnant. Noone ever said it’d be easy. Wasn’t the first time around, didn’t expect a cake walk the second time around either. But the hardest part is to be a woman and pregnant. Yeah, I know- that’s how it works. But somehow vanity makes it harder to be pregnant. Maybe if I didn’t care so much about how I look it would be easier. Or maybe if I chose to listen to my Maker instead of the little devil on my shoulder, then I’d feel better about who I am while pregnant.

This morning I got a dose of His reality. After feeling particularly frustrated at a lack of wardrobe options, we headed off to church. I pasted on a smile and hoped noone would see how much weight I’ve gained since we were last able to attend- before Spring Allergy Attack 2014 hit our family with a vengance. Well, someone did notice me. And much to my shock and surprise, her comment rocked my world- in a good way. What one of our youth told me has stuck with me all day.

“I just wanted to tell you how beautiful you look today! I saw you from on stage where we were singing and you just look so pretty today.”

God’s Gracie. Sweet Gracie. Thank you. Her comment reminded me that while my world spins around me and I may feel out of control, her world is doing the same… She’s a senior in high school about to set out into a huge, unknown world… And yet, she found the mere seconds it took to say something that made my day. Gracie is always a sweet girl, so I’m not surprised she made the comment. But she has no idea how thankful I am, on so many levels, that she did.

Because I need to remember
A) I am beautiful, no matter how pregnant I am or how fat I feel.
B) Others around me NEED me to be thoughtful and share God’s light with them.

God gave me that moment with Gracie to gently remind me that He loves me. He finds me beautiful. And He wants me to step out and share that with others. Thank you, God, and thank you, Gracie.

Another Smile in Heaven

I haven’t had the words to write, and what I say now will probably not do her justice, but on this past Thursday, Heaven gained another smiling face. I know she’s smiling because I know how very much she loved our Father and how very happy she must be to finally be sitting at His feet, and singing His praises with the saints. I haven’t even seen her in a couple of years, and before that it had been quite a while, but that won’t ever change the impact she had on my life at a very pivitol time for me.

I was in middle school, and even though she was the mom of a good friend, she was my youth pastor’s wife, and I could confide in her anything. We laughed together. We rolled our eyes at annoying boys on the bus to church camp together. She was fun, and a good friend. I remember game nights at their house, and serious times too- of Bible study and prayer.

She was a phenominal woman. I remember hearing the news – and the words fell on my ears like a bucket of ice water being dumped on top of my head. She had cancer. I had heard about lots of people with cancer, but not her. Not someone invincible. Not Kelly.

After a long fight, she no longer has to struggle. She no longer feels the pain of living on earth in a body that had betrayed her. She’s free. And I know, without a shadow of a doubt that she is singing with the angels right now.

Thank you, Kelly, for the impact you made in my life. I’ll never forget you, and will forever be greatful.

“Thank You” by Ray Boltz
I dreamed I went to heaven
And you were there with me;
We walked upon the streets of gold
Beside the crystal sea.
We heard the angels singing
Then someone called your name.
You turned and saw the young man
And he was smiling as he came.

And he said, “Friend you may not know me now.”
And then he said, “But wait,
You used to teach my Sunday School
When I was only eight.
And every week you would say a prayer
Before the class would start.
And one day when you said that prayer,
I asked Jesus in my heart.”

Thank you for giving to the Lord.
I am a life that was changed.
Thank you for giving to the Lord.
I am so glad you gave.

Then another man stood before you
And said, “Remember the time
A missionary came to your church
And his pictures made you cry.
You didn’t have much money,
But you gave it anyway.
Jesus took the gift you gave
And that’s why I am here today.”

Thank you for giving to the Lord.
I am a life that was changed.
Thank you for giving to the Lord.
I am so glad you gave.

One by one they came
Far as the eye could see.
Each life somehow touched
By your generosity.
Little things that you had done,
Sacrifices made,
Unnoticed on the earth
In heaven, now proclaimed.

And I know up in heaven
You’re not supposed to cry.
But I am almost sure
There were tears in your eyes.
As Jesus took your hand
And you stood before the Lord.
He said, “My child, look around you.
Great is your reward.”

Thank you for giving to the Lord.
I am a life that was changed.
Thank you for giving to the Lord.
I am so glad you gave.