PS... PPS

PS.  I finally did my taxes.  Well, I finally got all my receipts and info and took it to the accountant.  It took all of 30 minutes.  Good thing I only have a couple months until next year's tax season so I am less likely (ok who are we kidding) to repeat this again.

Man, am I ever an idiot.

PPS - I know that "PS" means post script and that it is to follow something else, but - I was being ironical.

Bad, Worse, Oh Dear

As an homage to the wonderful talk by Elder Dallin H. Oakes entitled, "Good, Better, Best", I would like to offer the antithesis of choices that are "Bad, Worse, Oh Dear.".

Good, Better, Best
*Cleaning your kitchen on a regular, post-meal basis
Bad, Worse, Oh Dear.

*Finding the source to the smell in your house is a 5-day old pot of garlic mashed potatoes hiding behind a bag on your kitchen counter.

Good, Better, Best

*Regularly exercising and enjoying a healthy, strong body free of aches and pains

Bad, Worse, Oh Dear.

*Thinking you have a bladder infection for 6 weeks because your pelvic floor muscles are in spasm from a ri-Dic-u-lously weak core.  What's that you say?  Awesome?  Yes, awesome indeed.

Good, Better, Best

*While nursing, spending time on iPhone reading scriptures, catching up on the news or e-mailing a friend you have been thinking of

Bad, Worse, Oh Dear.

*While nursing, spending an inordinate amount of time on Facebook wishing more of your friends actually updated their statuses, while hiding those who update too often with LAME updates

Good, Better, Best

*Doing your taxes in tax season

Bad, Worse, Oh Dear.

*Having to wait 8 weeks for your income tax return because NO ONE works at the tax centre from Sept. - Dec.  I know this because I have done this for the past 4 years, and yet... still haven't done my taxes.  

Good, Better, Best

*Going to bed early, with a clean face and teeth; feeling good about the day and happy for tomorrow

Bad, Worse, Oh Dear.

*None of the above and having to drink 6 diet coke's the next day because you stayed up too late catching up on Bachelor Pad.  (seriously, Bachelor Pad???  That alone could be it's own individual bullet for Bad, Worse, Oh Dear.)

I am currently really trying hard to move from my existing state and all I can say is *groan*.

That Time of Year

To say there has been a hiatus with the blog, is, well, a massive understatement.

But my 11th anniversary has moved me back into the blogging world.

There are many things that I can look back and say without hesitation that I definitely never saw coming11 years ago.

• Five kids???  Ok, I guess I kindof thought we would have a big-ish family.  And in my head, I guess I kindof thought between 4 and 6.  But that was all a theory.  To be honest, I didn't particularly like kids and the idea of having them was based on a promise by my mom that I would actually, really love my own.  (Thank goodness she was right!!)  But the actuality of having 5 kids is very different than thinking numbers in your head when you are young and kid-free. 
• That we would ever leave Calgary.  We love Calgary.  We were both born and raised there.  We love having our family close. We love the mountains (ok, Paul wins this in a landslide, although I do think they are very pretty in a I-don't-actually-want-to-climb-them-sort of way.)  We love the other amenities too.  The shopping, the zoo, leisure centres, bike paths, science centre...
• That Paul would not be a production manager.  When we got married, that was the plan and he was in school finishing off his degree.  I also didn't imagine that he would go back to school, only 2 1/2 short years after graduating, and eventually accumulate two more degrees.  

• But the thing I really, really never saw coming was that I would be spending our anniversary alone  (Paul is Regina for 3 months for the first part of his residency) and that he would checking other lady's downstair's business before telling them it was time to push.  Nope.  Most Definitely did not picture that one.

Happy Anniversary, Paul.  You are pretty friggin' awesome.  And without question, I am a better person for having married you. 

If you are a boy- skip this post. Trust me.

I have learned this pregnancy/post-partum period to be extremely grateful for all health care professionals.  While my prenatal care, labour and delivery with Eloise was fantastic with my midwives, I have been "Specul(...um)Ated"  by my share of different doctors since.  My running total for doctors, midwives and residents who have shone a flashlight where none should shine is 7.  AND I am not even including the nurses and interns.  In the last 3 weeks.  Bet you are all spectacularly jealous.

There were some "retained products" in my Uter-House that I found out about on Friday.  By ultrasound.  An ultrasound that didn't include a galloping heartbeat and giddy excitement??  That's what I am used to, so this one wasn't quite as awesome.  Doctor # 4 gave me two options: crazy drugs that needed to be inserted and would cause horrific cramping, or I could just go for S.U.R.G.E.R.Y. the following Monday.  Wow.  Both were so appealing, it was just too difficult to choose.

I finally decided to go for the surgery, but was talked into the pill option Monday morning by doctor #3.  Confidently, pills were inserted.  I knew I was in for a ride, but this seemed like the least offensive option, and then I wouldn't have to ask anyone to watch my kids.  And hey, I just went through labour; surely I could tough out some cramps, right??  Three hours later, I was in the ER with a raging fever, hearing a doctor (not counted - she never saw my girl-y bits) who kept saying, "I hope you don't mind me saying this, but you really don't look so hot" (while funny, not terribly reassuring that I wasn't in fact, going to die.)  Two bags of IV fluid, multiple vials of blood taken, and some intense IV antibiotics later, it was determined by doctors #5 & #6 who got to know me intimately, that it was just a rare side effect of the drug previously inserted.  Awesome.

Then this morning I had to go to an ultrasound to make sure the pills, after the previous day's fiasco, at the very least did what they were supposed to do.  Another lovely photo-op of my uterus showed no change.  I was going to have to get the D & C anyway.  Even Awesomer.

My mom is a nurse.  I get my ability to be casual and talk about things such as this because of her.  But I also got a few other gems from her too... like by all the things we would talk about at the dinner table; while very interesting, inadvertently turned all of her kids into a bunch of raging hypochondriacs who all know a little bit of everything (primarily symptoms of all major, life-threatening and rare diseases).  So my first response to my impending surgery was tears, stress and major anxiety that I probably was going to end up with a hysterectomy, and definitely some sort of crazy hospital-born infection that will see both my feet amputated.  Awesomest.

So off I go to the hospital.  But not before also panicking about having to ask someone to watch my kids - again.  (Yeah for homeschooling...)  Thank you Jen for Monday, Pam for today and Laura for both days and to all of you for just being fantastic and thoughtful as always.

Paul gave me a blessing so I no longer felt like I was going to be menopausal at 33, nor did I fear losing my appendages anymore.  Whew.  Thank goodness for the Priesthood.  I had the procedure done by doctor #7, who was actually awesome in a non-sarcastic way.  She was very patient, and just doting enough to Eloise to make me a friend for life.  I love her.

So no more weird down-stairs business.  I still have my uterus, my hands and feet are still on.  Doctor #7 fixed me and so out of all the doctors who have seen and felt me, I love her the most; because that is what it is all about.

Pros and Cons of Being Knocked Up

Being pregnant has its ups and downs.  Immediately after Eloise was born, I commented several times to my midwives how glad I was to no longer be pregnant.  Since then however, I have come to miss a few things, but have also been able to solidify in my mind why I really am glad to be done.

Glad to be pregnant:
- Only 4" of water needed to almost completely submerge my entire body in the tub.  Aaaahhh.  Water displacement at its finest.
- Not being cold once this winter.  Seriously.  And that is saying something for Saskatoon, SK.
- Being able to celebrate and be proud of a 42" waist (or was that 52"?)  Pregnant+fat=ok.
Pregnant+fat-pregnant=only fat.  Boo.
-Weeks 20-30 baby moves.  Nothing cooler.
-Nails that grew like crazy
-Maternity pants from Motherhood.
-Feeling full.  Now after I eat, I wonder if I had just imagined the whole thing because I my left arm still looks pretty tasty.

Glad to do done:
- While it takes a lot more water, I feel like I now actually can FIT in the 5' tub.  And I can get up easily to grab the shampoo.  Woohoo.
-Being freezing ever since she was born.  Don't get me started on the night sweats and then getting out of bed to change or feed.  Nothing like damp pj's in a cool night time house to really wake you up.  BRRR!
-Weeks 30-40 and 5 days baby moves.  While always reassuring, also got a little old.  Eloise's straight leg stretch in utero was a personal favourite.
-Being able to bend over.  Everyday Charlotte asks me if I am glad to not have a bowling bowl in my tummy.   Yes, yes I am.
-Nails that grew like crazy
-The Girls have graduated and are now more appropriately called The Ladies.  Unfortunately, after this phase, they will have another name change to the Ma'am's, or maybe the Grannie's.
-Talking about still being pregnant when you should no longer be pregnant.  Worst thing ever.
-Hearing about labour horror stories and knowing that it was on the horizon and there was nothing I could do about it.  Looming.  Like April and tax season with a lot more physical pain.  Blech.
-Maternity pants.  Still have 'em, still wear 'em, and still am SUPER comfy in 'em.  I think that officially qualifies me for the show "What Not to Wear."
-No. More. Heartburn.  The moment she was out my esophagus breathed a sigh of relief.
-I have real ankles again!  No more play-doh, no more cankles.  But real, bonafide ankles.  And while the rest of me is still covered in a layer of soft gooey-dough - my ankles are back, baby!
-Changing her itty-bitty buttered popcorn smelling diaper and holding these skinny, little newborn legs up in the air, knowing full well how quickly they grow into fat, squeezable chunks of love, all the while completely defiling the air and their Depend's sized diaper with man sized poops.


But the biggest reasons of all to be glad to be done being pregnant:
-Smelling her.
-Loving her.
-Cuddling her.
-Nursing her.
-Seeing those dreamy smiles and getting a glimpse of her personality.
-Staring into those blurry newborn eyes and knowing she's mine.

Eloise Margaret

I had heard great things about midwives and thought I would look into it for baby #5.  I was undecided until about 16 weeks when I was forced to make a commitment.  I liked my doctor a lot, and I liked the idea of an epidural even more, so it was a very, tough. call.

In the end I decided to go with a midwife.  Because I was homeschooling, the midwife seemed a lot more understanding about me bringing 4 kids to my appointments than my doctor would be. (Turns out Paul and I were meant for each other in turns of our decision making process.)  It ended up being a really nice decision as I got to know Nooshin better and I became more and more confident.  And THEN she started coming to my house for my pre-natal appointments.  It was then that it became love.  Seriously. 

Home birth seemed like a very appealing option since I had had fast labor's.  Having a baby on the kitchen floor is ok if it is PLANNED, NOT if it happens by accident.  I started reading a few books about home births and midwifery and I became a slow, albeit reluctant convert.  I had done research about the safety - looking at medical journals and studies, and asking (and re-asking the same questions) to my midwife.  Paul and I talked at length about it - his position being surprisingly liberal given his training, and he was extremely supportive.  He felt good about doing it at home and if that was what I wanted - he was completely behind me.  I struggled with it for months; definitely a home birth one day, and then most definitely a hospital birth a few hours later.  I would be leaning heavily toward a home birth, and then one of my siblings would phone and send me into my own personal fear factor for days.  I was convinced that if I did not die during labor, I was condemning my new baby to having cerebral palsy and a lifetime of surgery because of a crazy whim to have this baby here. What was I thinking?  To be honest, I always thought home births were a little nuts - and now I was seriously considering one??!!  Who the heck was this soon to be mother of 5(!!) homeschooling granola that I was turning into????  Paul steadied me and waylaid my fears.

I had a birthing pool that we kept inflating every couple days waiting for this unknown person to appear.  I had been 3 weeks early with Charlotte, 2 weeks early with Ezra - so surely babe #5 would be early too, right?!?  No, no.  She was in it for the long haul and though was due March 8th, finally debuted 5 days overdue on March 13 at 5:30 pm.    She must have her mother's sense of time.  It was last Sunday and I hadn't gone to church because seriously, who goes to church when they are 40 weeks pregnant...  When Paul got home I told him of my plans to drink this "cocktail*" that my midwife had given me, promising me that I would go into labor if I took it.  I was sick to death of being pregnant, hurting with every step and movement (I had SPD - Symphysis Pubis Dysfunction) and since I had been early with the other 2, was fully prepared weeks earlier.  I felt like I was at a train station waiting for a train to come but not having any clue as to when it could arrive.  Maddening.  And it did not help that my neighbour, best friend and sister-in-law Laura, who was due 3 days after me, had already had her baby 3 days earlier.  Seriously?!?!  I was even prepared to go into LABOUR to be done with being pregnant.  You know you are serious when...

So I took the cocktail and sure enough 2 hours later the contractions started.  After only 3 contractions I called my friend Pam to see if she could watch the kids (the only thing I had decided on definitively was that they were NOT invited) and then called my midwife.  I wasn't 100% sure that I was really in labor because they were not regular and felt exactly like the Braxton hicks I had been experiencing for the previous 6 weeks.  But I had to assume it was going to happen because I was so overdue and my MW promised me!  So, being optimistic - we got ready.  Paul re-filled the pool with air and we waited.  It was so relaxed.  Nooshin came over and she set up her 6 bags of luggage of medical supplies; oxygen tanks, suction, intubation tubes, etc.  Paul later said that if he knew what they were bringing with them , he would have been even more on-board than he was before.  I kept having contractions and then I would get up and tidy something.  It was nice to be able to be distracted - Yeah for being ADD!!  After some more I went to the fridge and offered to get everyone drinks.  It felt like we were just hanging out.  I kept asking her if she really thought I was in labour, because it sure didn't feel like I was.  After an hour, the contractions still weren't regular, weren't that uncomfortable, and I was having too much fun to think it could possibly be real.

The next 45 min. they got more regular, but still not that painful.  I finally accepted that I was in labor and stopped asking Nooshin what she thought was such a ridiculous question.  But it was nice.  I was on my hands and knees, sometimes hugging my ottoman during a contraction.  When they went away - it was completely gone and I felt like I had only imagined the previous pain.  Paul filled up the pool with water and I was looking forward to getting in.  It was huge and deep and looked very, very inviting.  My only regret was not filling it up and giving it a test run in the weeks before. Seriously - getting into that thing was AWESOME!  

The last 1/2 hr got intense.  My back-up midwife Ros was called.  I got out of the pool to use the washroom and the next contraction on dry land was NOT COOL.  Although it still hurt a lot,  it turned out the warm water was a huge, huge relief. The midwives were telling to listen to my body as to when it was time to push.  The only thing I could think was, I don't know what my body is telling me!  I have had 4 babies at a hospital where I have not been allowed to push until someone has told me to do so.  It was so weird to be in the drivers seat.  But then with the next contraction, my body didn't tell me, it YELLED at me Glee Coach Sue Sylvester style to get this bowling ball out and NOW.  So, I listened.  And bowling ball she was.  She was born in the water, in her water - Ponyo style.  Now since I was otherwise distracted, I cannot confirm what my midwives said - that she was born in the sac which meant she would be very lucky.  But kindof cool anyway.

They quickly pulled her up out of the water and put her on my chest and I spent a couple minutes looking at her and talking to my new, sweet baby.  I finally realized that we still did not know if it was a boy or girl.  I had hoped it would be a girl, but Paul had convinced me it would be a boy, so I was surprised, thrilled and delighted when I lifted her off of me to see.  While still in the birthing pool, Paul set up the lap top and my mom was the first "visitor" via iChat.  Paul picked up the kids and they were so excited to meet their new sister.  When it was time to go to bed, Charlotte would only agree to it once she determined that the baby would still look the same in the morning.  

I have never blogged about a birth before, and the main reason why I did this time was because it was just such an awesome experience.  She was my biggest baby, 9lbs 8 oz, 22.5 " long, born in the sac, but far and away my best labor and delivery.  I had a "graze" of a tear that didn't require any stitches.  She was my third natural birth and including the ones where I have had an epidural - this one was unquestionably my best experience.  I know it makes me certifiable to say this, but I genuinely loved it.  She wasn't a 1/2 hour old before I knew I would do it all again.  

Just in case you ever need to know:

*Verbena Cocktail

1/4 c castor oil

1/4 c almond butter

4 cups water

2 c apricot juice (I only had orange juice)

10 drops verbena oil

Drink 1/2 batch within 30 min, and can drink the remaining 1/2 5 hrs later.  Will work if cervix is "ripe" and past 40 weeks.

March Madness!

For those of you who might suspect that I have a case of the Jimmer's, I would say most definitely... but that isn't what this post is about.

March has been a lovely, crazy month so far.

On March 7 we found out Paul got into Radiology here in Saskatoon.  It was his first choice, but really would have been equally happy had he got family medicine or internal medicine.  On one hand, it was a brutally difficult decision what to rank #1, #2 and #3, but on the other - it was a nice position to be in; feeling like whatever happened would be great (even if it meant he would also be a little disappointed regardless of which one he got because it meant he couldn't do the other 2.  Any wonder why the guy got married when he was 29?!?!?)   My first choice was whichever would make him the most happy, but I was secretly (or not so secretly) rooting for radiology - I wanted for us to to be able to see him!  So major, major yeah!!!  I am so ridiculously proud of him.  I love talking to my dad, because he is just as pleased and together, we can both go on for hours.  And the biggest plus - we don't have to move!!!!!!  We get to enjoy the pool for at least 5 more summers!!!  Woo hoo!!

Second big news of the month - we had a baby girl on March 13!!  I couldn't be more thrilled that Charlotte has a sister and that I have doubled my odds that one of my girls as adults will still like me.  She is perfect.  I sincerely wanted her name to be Lovely, because that is what she is, but will settle on calling her lovely, lovely, Eloise.  Eloise Margaret Russell.

Sorry Jimmer.  You can't really compare with that.

Scary-as-all-get-out

Roads to Calgary on our last trip:

The roads were so bad, I even put down Mockingjay.  Hard to believe, I know.

See the glossy-high sheen of the pavement?

The super-highway, not looking so super.

This was the condition of the road for about 2.5 hours.  Awesome.

"Oh man, now my shirt is chafin' me..."

Totally oblivious, rosy faced Ezra, working on getting as naked as possible.

Snow was so deep it was scraping the underside of the suburban.  The SUBURBAN!!  Do you know how freaking big those things are?!?

More on that in another post.

What I didn't get a picture of: 

1) Deer up to their bellies in snow on the side of the highway

2)  A 12' x 4' sheet of siding on some poor farmers house flapping away in the wind

3)  How swollen my legs and ankles got from the drive.  But let me tell you - 

that isn't something you would want to see anyway.