In With the New

I've decided that this blog needs to go in a new direction.  I've been compelled to use this blog as a means to remember special memories, thoughts, and feelings I have for my beautiful boy, Liam.  


Dear Liam,

It has been 3 wonderful weeks since you've been home! You are almost 9 pounds! It is a welcomed experience not to have to sit in a room with beeping monitors and nurses and doctors walking by, and a simple curtain to give us privacy when we visited you.

I have to be honest. When I first got you home, I was terrified.  Those heart and oxygen monitors were both a blessing and a curse. On the car ride home, I wondered what the numbers would read if you were still hooked onto them.  Yet, I hated to see when your heart rate or oxygen would dip when you were still a tiny preemie.  One of my favorite parts of your homecoming was seeing your dad finally take off the leads or wires connecting you to the monitors FOREVER! It was almost like we were doing something illegally, but it felt so empowering!  I have to watch you move and breathe now and then to make sure everything's okay.  But I think every parents does that with their new born baby:)

I absolutely adore when your father holds you. It is probably one of the most beautiful sights I've ever known. It melts my heart when you two are chest to chest, completely content in your sleep. Sometimes I can't fathom that we made you, that part of us is in you.  We both agree that you are the best thing we've ever done.  We are so happy to have been blessed with you.

My favorite moments with you is when we have our staring contests:). You look at me with such concentration, and I just know that you know I'm your mother.  I love that you know the sound of my voice, my smell, and my touch.  I love that when you hear my voice, you stop crying and are comforted.

Daddy put you in his Baby Bjorn the first week you were home. He kept telling me how excited he was that you had passed the 5lb mark so he could put you in it! He is still trying to get me to let him bring you to his wrestling tournaments, with you riding in the baby Baby Bjorn. He also says you can play on your play mat while the bigger boys wrestle on their wrestling mats.  ::shaking my head::

We are incredibly proud of you.  You were so tiny, at one point 2lbs 6 oz, and you left the hospital at 6 lbs 8 oz!  I'm sure they were ready to kick you out of there before you ate all the other babies' food!  You are a testament to the fact that miracles are alive and well in this world.  We prayed and prayed for you, and God has been good to answer all our prayers.  Every time we thought you might be sick, we prayed, and you never got an infection.  We are so thankful we were given such a strong little boy.

Your grandparents are in complete awe of you.  They came to the hospital everyday to see you and made sure you knew you were loved.  They are spoiling you rotten, and I'm sure that will continue for many years to come.

I am so honored and happy I am your mommy.  I promise that I will be what you need me to be.  Your dad and I will teach you about the God who so kindly spared your life and has allowed us to be your parents. We hope that you will grow into an exemplary man, the kind who holds doors, speaks kindly, does good unto others, and loves his family, friends, and life.

In many ways, you are my hero, and I know you will continue to amaze me throughout our lives.  


With all my love,
Mom

Our L.I.L. Miracle Part 2

Throughout the night, the contractions have gotten worse. At this point, I'm not sure what else they can do to stop the contractions.  Meanwhile, I have two options of sleeping; sleeping on my left side or sleeping on the right side when the pain has subsided.

September 15: In the morning, they decide to give me an epidural.  This leads me to believe that I will have Liam vaginally.  Afterwards, I feel nothing and feel great! So, what do I do?  I konk out! lol. I get the best sleep I've had in a while since the beginning of the ordeal. I have a little button to increase the dose to knock out any pain that tries to invade--nice!

Now, weeks prior to having Liam, I had decided that when I did deliver, I wanted to do it in style. I did have plan to doll myself, hair and make up done before coming to the hospita--hot shower, blow dry, make-up. My sweet husband brought my make up case to the hospital so I could still look good if pictures were to be taken.

WELL, after being in labor for almost 4 days, I was too "drunk" to put on make-up. I was woozy applying on make-up. I didn't even bother attempting eye-liner. I remember there being a mirror, but that probably didn't help because my eyes were half closed, they were so heavy. And forget about the hair! It was in absolute knots and hadn't been washed in 4 days! Oy! I remember putting on eyeshadow and giving up.  I think I passed out yet again.

The next set of events were happened happened so quickly.


I woke up to Dr. M saying she was going to break my water. My blood pressure is not really coming down and I'm still having contractions.  No panic yet. Warm gush. No panic.  Then they say they were going to put a heart monitor on the baby's head. She fidgets with this for a few minutes. I think they manage to do this as I slip in and out of consciousness.  Then I am hearing that they are having a hard time finding baby boy's heart beat. That's when things picked up.


The next thing I know is that the nurse is pulling out all my IV's connected to the machines. They start unlocking the breaks on my bed---in a very hurried pace. I am silent. No panic yet. I think I hear Brad being instructed to put on his scrubs.

Then they wheel me into the operating room. Drape goes up. I hear, "We need another nurse...where's the anesthesiologist?" I feel someone starting things, and then panic strikes.

I start shouting, "Wait! I feel everything!" I don't know what they are doing, but I feel like I have no numbing down there. I start screaming at this point that I am feeling pain (or maybe that was just pressure...who knows), and they tell me everything is all right. I plead with them that I can feel and they need to knock me out. Brad is not in the room, nor was he allowed since I was completely out. Then, I see a mask coming over me, and I breathe into it... everything goes BLACK.

I wake up in the recovery room. My throat is a little scratchy (from intubating me), and I hear Brad's voice. He tells me that Liam Isaac is 3lbs 2oz. I remember how happy I was that he was bigger that what they had predicted earlier (They had said he was 2 pounds 5 oz and 2 pounds 11 oz at one point), and then of course, I konk out!

I do not get to see Liam until 2 days later. My blood pressure is apparently still high even after delivery. Even though I was registering pre-eclamptic through the urine and blood test, I was abnormally so. Also, in the delivery room I had 2 OBs working on me. When they did the c-section, they found that my placenta had started to separate from my uterus wall, also known as a placental abruption. My OB said that it was a good thing events happened as they did, because it could have gotten worse. That is, it would have been more complicated if the placenta had completely seperated before the c-section. Otherwise, we would have both bleed to death. The angels were watching over us:)

I stayed in the hospital an additional 5 days thanks to my blood pressure being so high. I think towards the end, my blood pressure was due to "cabin fever." The pressure is much better now being in the comfort of my own home!

Our L.I.L. Miracle Part 1

On September 15th, 2010 at 1:02 PM, we welcomed an early blessing into our lives. 
His name is Liam Isaac Lucas. This is my way of remembering the hardest, most blessed week of my life.

September 11th:  For my birthday, Brad got tickets for us to see "The Wedding Singer" at the Alhambra. Love the movie with Drew Barrymore and Adam Sandler. The show was great! Got home around 10:30 PM.

September 12th: After the show, I noticed some pain in my back and more so, a heaviness in my pelvis. At first, I attributed it to sitting for 4.5 hours at the Alhambra and tried to bear through the pain. Pain continued throughout the wee hours of the morning. I also noticed some bleeding, which was never an issue the entire pregnancy. The pain was severe enough, that I finally called the nurse at around 5 AM.  She advised me to go to Labor and Delivery.

I am taken to the a L&D observation room. I'm given IV fluids and am monitored. Baby's heartbeat is great.  Blood pressure is elevated.

After 6 hours, the pelvic cramping is gone. The doctor checked me, and there had been no dilation. At this point, I think the cramping may be due to dehydration (although I had become an obsessive water drinker).  I'm told to take a couple days to rest, and schedule a regular appointment with my OB. We're elieved everything is fine. We head home, and Brad and I fall asleep.


9:00 PM: I start noticing uncomfortable back pains that come in waves, stronger this time. They happen about every 5 minutes, lasting 40 seconds each. I ignore it, and still think it's from sitting 4.5 hours from the day before.

 10:00 PM Sunday-3:00 AM Monday: Back pain becomes more intense and coming at 3 minute intervals, lasting 40 seconds each. No sleep. I try taking a warm bath, but still no real relief. I call the nurse at 3:00 AM, and after suffering through more intervals of pain...contractions, I wake up Brad and we head back to Labor & Delivery.

September 13th: We're back int he L &D observation room. I'm put on the monitor. Labor officially starts, as it definitely obvious on the monitors. The doctor confirms that I am dilated 4 cm. I am quickly put on pain meds, IV fluids, and given a crucuial steroid injection to help the baby's lung mature faster (I am given another one 24 hours later). I also get a catheter put in (fun).


Pain meds momentarily relieve pain, but contractions still come. I am put on magnesium sulfate to slow contractions. This medicine immediately makes me feel like a drunk with hot flashes! I have to lay still as much as I can. Only sleep puts me out of my misery. Thank you pain meds!

A few hours later, my OB comes in and explains that I need to be transferred to the hospital downtown because the downtown NICU is better equipped to handle 28 week babies. At this point, I don't know if baby is going to be delivered, or if I'm in for a long hospital stay on bed reast.  I consent, and I'm transferred by ambulance to the downtown hospital.

I am admitted and continue to be hooked onto machines. I CANNOT EAT OR DRINK. I'm only allowed a few ice chips an hour. MISERABLE. Baby's heartbeat is strong. Ultrasound is performed and everything looks great. Trying to keep things stable to at least get the second steroid shot to mature baby's lungs. For now, the contractions have stopped.

The perinatologists explain it could be days, weeks, or months that I could be at the hospital. WHAT??!! 

NICU doctors talks to us about what will happen when our baby is delivered. This has me thinking that he will be born soon. We get a lot of information that scares the crap out of me.

September 14: Controlling contractions go smoothly during the day. However, contractions start to get stronger at night. I'm calling my nurse everytime the pains meds wear off. I squeeze the crap out of Brad's hand for each contraction that comes.

I am given the second steroid shot. C'mon baby, mature those lungs!

My night nurse is surprised that I am still with child...

Soon enough!


I am requesting more and more pain meds. But I'm still laboring throughout the night, and into the early morning of September 15th...

It Isn't Like Sex & the City...It's more Like a Highway...or some metaphor like that

Carrie. Charlotte. Miranda. Samantha. Four fabulous New York women, leading busy lives, yet find the time to get together at that all-familiar diner. The show focuses on each, in their own way, finding love (or lust), while maintaining a very strong friendship. Though the series ended a couple of years ago, it still captivates me, and I can't help but plop down and watch how in this episode they manage to accept, tolerate, hate, or love the romantic situation their friend is in.

You see, when I watch the show, I try to get some real tips in how to handle, interact, cope, maybe even avoid friends in relationships (if they're in unhealthy ones). In one particular episode, Carrie and Miranda are perusing through clothes at an outside vendor, and Carrie tells Miranda that she's back together with Big. (Big is the proverbial playboy, the off-and-on again boyfriend of Carrie Bradshaw.) Miranda scoffs, and says, "I don't want to hear when he hurts you again. I don't want to know anything about it. I am not going to be the you you come running to crying." (Something like that.) The two get into an argument/tiff about this. But how badly I've wanted to be as gusty as Miranda! And tell it like it is! And, as only HBO writers can do, in one hour, Miranda and Carrie manage to sort out their problems, and Miranda and Carrie are A-Okay.

BUT...STOP RIGHT HERE!

All right, so I can't compare my life to a TV show. Now I view friendships as being more like a highway...like US 1, or I-10 if you will. More specifically, I'm beginning to see friendships like taking a long road-trip down one of these highways.

Let's say you start your journey with 3 other friends. You initially have the same goals, to get to the same destination, so to speak. You're excited about it all, excited to be together and bask in the experience it will become. But, ahhh, the highway. The highway will test your friendship and will offer hard lessons you never saw coming. But it's not all bad...at first. During the road-trip there will lots of laughs, many stops that you share in and make memories from. There will be times when it will be silent, and this is still good at the beginning. These are one of those silent times where you don't have to share a word with one another and it's the best kind of noise out there.

However, certain things begin to happen. All of a sudden your destinations get fuzzy. Some want to go here, some want there. And so it appears that the friendship starts to shift, and you want to go off into different directions. What happens? You all begin to take seperate "exits." And, once you've exited, you begin to make a new life out of the "exits" you take. These exits---some of them great, some of them not so. It's these "exits" that drive us to change the way we interact with our friends, change frequency of when we want to visit them or when we want to see them, change the way we perceive them, etc. Unfortunately, these "exits" we take are some of hardest lessons we learn from the highway of friendship. The silver lining, however, or that I hope is there, is that one day, if one of us, or all of us, decide to meet up again on that highway, there will be some road leading back to it. Some of us come back, and at times there might be 2 or 3 of us on it. Hopefully, one day, we will all find ourselves back on it together...to pull ourselves away from the "exit" life we made (even if it's for a little while) and just enjoy each other again...

What I've Learned in My 25 Years of Life

Being that I've finished my 25th year of life, I thought perhaps I would get all philosophical, mushy, or just plain blabbery (I know, not a word, but I've learned [in my 25 years of life] you can make up words!) about what I have learned about *LIFE*. And wouldn't you know it, there's 25 of them:) Now then....

I've learned...

1) to always say "I love you" to those you love before you hang up the phone or say good-bye

2) to always wash your hands when you go to the bathroom...or after some germ-raising activity

3) that you never really learn to appreciate your parents and all they've done for you till after you've moved away

4) that “Sometimes being a friend means mastering the art of timing. There is a time for silence. A time to let go and allow people to hurl themselves into their own destiny. And a time to prepare to pick up the pieces when it's all over.”

5) that the minute you settle for less than you deserve, you get even less than you settled for.

6) some of the best things in life are worth waiting for, and others you should go for right then and there

7) failure is a second chance to do something better

8) your imagination is one of the most powerful things you can possess (hence why I am still afraid of the dark!)

9) adopting a pet and loving them gives you the warmest, fuzziest feeling in your heart

10) teachers are sometimes the only stable adult in a child's life

11) if you want that piece of cake or candy, go for it!

12) that you should also counter that (see #11) with regular exercise, so that #11 is okay :)

13) listening is one of the best things you can do for someone

14) sometimes the worst things happen for the best reasons (this was from Fran!)

16) that my favorite people to be around are children and the elderly

17) water is probably the best thing for you, so bump out the sodas, teas, and sugared juices once in a while

18) carbohydrates and salt are my weakness, and so far they are winning the battle

19) it's amazing to know that I will see my loved ones who've passed on in Heaven because it's Jesus's gift to us. And such a comfort that is!

20) buying things on sale, and even better, clearance, is awesome!

21) to never be the smartest person in the room

22) manners, like saying "Please, thank-you, your welcome, and excuse me (please)" go a long way

23) finding the perfect pair of jeans can make you feel like you've got the sexiest butt in the room

24) being girly is totally okay, so bring on the flowers, ribbons, and bows

25) "Love is patient. Love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrong. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices in the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always preserves." 1 Corinthians 13: 4-7


***25) the best is yet to come.


*** I had to add, so think of it as 25b

DAUGHTER

“Loving a child doesn't mean giving in to all his whims; to love him is to bring out the best in him, to teach him to love what is difficult.”- Nadia Boulanger 

Perhaps it's natural that I start with this.  After all, I was a daughter before the other three.  

I'm writing this post in the old bedroom of my parent's place.  Two over-sized cabinets, one with several of the drawers misaligned with the tracks.  The entertainment center bearing years of childhood books, a karaoke set, and trophies accumulated from my school years. 

Ah, and my old bed.  The one with the withered old yellow painted  headboard.  With every slight movement came a big squeak and creak. Certainly not like the king sized bed sans squeaking and creaking I slumber on nowadays. 

It's strange how my parents are my parents, yet I see them in a different light.  Everytime I come back here I remember how I asked them permission to do just about everything and hoped they would say yes.  

Or how back in the day whenever Brad would come over, he'd have to sit on the chair or on the floor if I was on the bed.  Never would we be allowed on the bed together. Oh, and door OPEN. This enabled quick viewing when someone passed by in the hallway to make sure we remained virtuous. 

Or how I felt I didn't get to do what most kids my age got to do---go to parties, go on trips, stay out late, go places unaccompanied without my brother or my grandmother.  Oh, how college was my reprieve for this! (College in another town.)

But now, I come and go with a new feeling (and still some old feelings) when I visit.  I can leave with the boy I fell in love with 8 years ago and go home with him.  Although when we do watch TV in my old bedroom we STILL don't sit on the same piece of furniture! (Not because it's still necessary,but rather  for old times sake.) I can travel whenever I want (finances allowing), go to a party and stay up late, go places with whomever I choose.

And so, I look at my parents sitting there watching their daily dose of PBS specials on the television or Dad sitting at the computer or feeding one of their 4 stray cats thinking: how they raised me has enabled me to be as free as I am today.  I don't say that with malice or ill feelings either.  Actually, it's with much thanks.  I don't think I would be where I am without their aid, their discipline, their expectations (at times impossible), their cultural-influenced way of raising me. 

 It's with these that has enabled me to steer clear of going down a dark path, doing things that I'd regret, graduate not once but twice with graduate college degree, begin the career of my calling, marry the love of my life with no hesitation, and build a home and future that would have been a lot more difficult had they not been like they had with me. 

If you were to ask me a few years ago if I  had a lot of freedom, I'd probably say "Hell no." But today, I would say, "Definitely yes." And much of it I owe to them. The truth is, I was never not free.  It was that they held it close, guarded it, and knew that when the time came I would know what to do with it and use it. And today, it has made all the difference. 

Much thanks and affection to my mother, father, and my beloved grandmother.

So it Begins

Here goes...

It's uncertain what this blog will become.  I suppose only in hindsight will I know what has unfolded of my little pieces of writing, rantings, ramblings, anecdotes, epiphanies, et cetera. 

I've always wanted to "blog." In the past, my failed attempts left me with diary entries that were all over the place.

So, hopefully there'll be happenings or awakenings that will occur that will really be worth writing about. 

I have chosen to title this blog to what I hope it will become---entries from the perspectives that encompass me.  One day I may write specifically about being a daughter, the next about something I've learned being a wife.  Who knows, but,YOU'RE invited.