Dear Sophia,
I love that we've joined a gym. We gone every day since we joined, and I even went twice yesterday (once with Grandma to do a "Mind/Body" video and once with Daddy to exercise my upper body.) I'm not an exercise guru, but I've managed to break a sweat every time I go and wake up sore the next day so I'm happy!
In other news, Daddy gets to see his Princess, Onna, this Sunday. We worked out an acceptable arrangement with her mother's family, and I'll be in the room, uninvolved, to make sure Daddy is safe while we're there. It's a start for sure.
I don't have much else to say, other than I love you. I'm really trying to get everything in my life in order - physical fitness, eating habits, cleanliness, scripture reading, prayers, service to others, etc. When we meet again, I want you to be able to say you're proud of me and happy for choosing me as your mother. I really, really do.
Sincerely,
Mommy.
(P.S. Oh! I've been really concerned about emergency preparedness lately. Daddy has told me I can budget money for purchasing emergency materials so I'm excited!)
Friday, October 19, 2012
Tuesday, October 16, 2012
New Beginnings
Dear Sophia,
Tomorrow will mark four weeks since I gave birth for the very first time. Daddy and I have decided to join a gym called Anytime Fitness - Ahh!
Tomorrow will mark four weeks since I gave birth for the very first time. Daddy and I have decided to join a gym called Anytime Fitness - Ahh!
Actually, I'm super excited. I loved how I felt when I was working out every day at school. I had less of an issue with my depression, better sleep, an overall better outlook and physical feeling. It was great! Tonight is the first night of our membership. I'll let you know how that goes. Plan for tonight: warm up on treadmills, then weights. Woot!
Sincerely,
Mommy.
**Follow-up:
Daddy and I went and had a great time! I really, really wanted to jog/walk a mile. (If you know me, you know my body is not built for full-on running, so jogging it is.) I hadn't done a whole lot of purposeful jogging since leaving college, and I'm still in my post-baby limited exercising period, so I wasn't sure how it was going to go.
Turns out, a half mile of jogging about 4.5 miles per hour was my limit. But I didn't give up there! Oh, no, no, no. Even though it was difficult because I was a little worn out, I walked at 3.5 miles per hour until I'd finished the mile. Charles was sweet. He was done with his jogging before I was, but stayed and held my hand while I finished my own mile.
After that, we walked around and tried out various machines we were interested in. After some stretching, we headed home all nice and sweaty and had a great nights' sleep. Day one - done!
Mommy.
**Follow-up:
Daddy and I went and had a great time! I really, really wanted to jog/walk a mile. (If you know me, you know my body is not built for full-on running, so jogging it is.) I hadn't done a whole lot of purposeful jogging since leaving college, and I'm still in my post-baby limited exercising period, so I wasn't sure how it was going to go.
Turns out, a half mile of jogging about 4.5 miles per hour was my limit. But I didn't give up there! Oh, no, no, no. Even though it was difficult because I was a little worn out, I walked at 3.5 miles per hour until I'd finished the mile. Charles was sweet. He was done with his jogging before I was, but stayed and held my hand while I finished my own mile.
After that, we walked around and tried out various machines we were interested in. After some stretching, we headed home all nice and sweaty and had a great nights' sleep. Day one - done!
Monday, October 15, 2012
Remembering You
Dear Sophia,
I love you. I've been thinking about you a lot lately. No wonder, really. You are still so precious to me. You always will be. A few days ago, I couldn't sleep, and I started getting practically hysterical. I ended up cuddling with Sophie bear for a while before I put her back and could sleep. I wanted to take a moment and describe what you were like in person for those who didn't get to experience you.
1. The moment you were set down on top of me, my eyes were glued to you. The lack of skull on the top of your head confirmed the doctor's diagnosis but I didn't really care at that moment. "Is she alive?" was the very first question I asked. That was affirmed as Daddy cut your umbilical cord, you gasped, and started to slowly move your little head and arms around. I was in awe.
2. You made the most adorable little sounds. It was very difficult for you to cry - although you did several times - because of your breathing. Instead, you made little baby noises you would expect from any peaceful baby. You would yawn, snore, and practically sing with your little melodic whimpers.
3. There were very few times I was sure you were asleep. After all, you almost always looked like you were asleep. However, you would go right to snore-city once you hit Daddy's chest. It was adorable. Daddy would hold you against his chest for hours just to make sure you were at peace, and I absolutely loved it. That's one of the most comfortable places on Daddy, so I totally understand why you'd be lulled to sleep there.
4. You had extremely soft skin. I'm not talking normal baby soft, here. Everyone who cares to feel my skin says it's the some of the softest they've ever felt. It only makes sense that my child would have that soft of skin, plus baby softness. I loved rubbing your cheek and tiny hands, although, truthfully, I would have loved to do that even if you'd had coarse skin.
These are just a few points for now. I had no idea how to be a mother. (It could be argued that I still don't, but that's beside the point.) When you were placed into my arms, I wasn't sure how to hold you. I was honestly terrified of changing your diaper, even though I'd changed diapers before. The last thing I wanted to do was do something wrong for my little angel in her short lifetime on earth. But you made it easy. You didn't care that I didn't know what to do. You were a tiny example of pure love, and I couldn't have asked for more. I love you so much sweetheart.
Sincerely,
Mommy.
Monday, October 1, 2012
Comforts
Dear Sophia,
Ever since I met Daddy, I've been experiencing new ways of doing things I thought I knew how to do; A new way to love, new ways to communicate peacefully. Since you've been gone, I've found a new sort of remembering. Sweetie, I don't feel like I'm grieving... at least not in the way I always pictured "grief." I thought when a loved one died the next step was to be an emotional wreck - like how Daddy and I were when we first learned of your condition. I miss you - I miss the weight of your tiny body in my arms.
However, I feel peace.
I feel grateful to have had you, grateful my body is healing, grateful to have so many pictures and other mementos we can keep with us. I feel blessed to have Daddy beside me each day, and that we have been supported by so many around us.
I feel... strange, in a way, knowing I am your mother here on earth but you have already gone to be with your heavenly parents. Over nine months of preparation culminated in 4.5 days of parenthood. I feel like I should be doing something more - changing diapers, losing sleep, doing frequent loads of tiny baby laundry - but you did not require that of me. You and I have both fulfilled our ends of the bargain when it comes to your life. In the most solemn way, you are probably the "easiest" child Daddy and I will ever have; the one who will ask the least of us. All you ask now is for us to give a valiant effort to be with you again... and you can definitely count on that.
I never thought I would feel this way. I was expecting to have my world shaken like it was before. In a way, though, it has been. My faith in the Gospel has grown so much through everything, even before you were born, but especially in the time you were here with us.
I realized a couple days ago that we don't yet have any pictures of you on display in our home. The first step in that direction was a small frame with a picture of your tiny (although rather long for a newborn baby) feet which was given to us by Aunt Kym. It's a beautiful blue frame with a couple little rhymes and the words "My baby" on it. I've made it my goal to add more pictures of you around our home.
This past Sunday was the first time in about a month I've been able to make it through a whole three blocks of church, and it was amazing. First of all, we got your baby blessing certificate (which is now framed and on our wall.) Second, this was a fifth-Sunday so for the last block we got to stay together instead of split up into Priesthood and Relief Society meetings, which was also great. Also, next week is General Conference so it was Fast Sunday, and Testimony Meeting during the first block.
(I'm genuinely sorry for those whom I just majorly confused. Basically, next week is when every member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints gets to watch/listen to talks from our general leaders instead of having regular local church meetings. It's a bi-annual event - and the things they speak about are applicable and uplifting even for non-members, so feel free to tune in!
Click this link to find out how.)
Anyway, it may have been just me, but I detected a theme of "eternal families" in the testimonies borne, which was really nice. After the Bishop, who was conducting the meeting, sat down, I dragged Daddy up to the podium with me (so, yes, I was the first one up - eep!) Now, I believe the last time I got up to bear my testimony was shortly after we joined the ward in January. I tend to hold to the belief that you should go when you feel inspired to do so, and, although I won't say I haven't been nudged at all, I hadn't felt like I really, really needed to get up there... until now.
I didn't know what I was going to say. Planning never really works out anyway, as something about standing in front of a couple hundred people tends to wipe all thought from my working memory. So, I stepped up, pulled Daddy close to hold me while I spoke (not common practice, by the way, but I was feeling needy) and just... did it. And it felt so good. I'm not great at spontaneous public speaking, but I got what I needed to say out, and that's what matters.
I have to say - I love our ward. Daddy and I have considered moving into Saint Joseph so we'd be closer to his work and not have to spend so much on gas, but this ward, among other things, is keeping us here. I've written before how much of an outpouring of love and service we've received through all of this. They say you don't know who your friends are until you're in need, and these families have really stepped up. We have been so blessed by them.
In fact, a night or two before, a lady in the ward whom I have only rarely spoken with randomly dropped off a few comfort items (cozy blanket, fuzzy socks, candles and chocolate kisses) and a note just letting us know she was thinking about us. It was so wonderful. However, the love of our ward family has been felt in other ways too - in gestures as simple as a knowing smile or a hug. Everyone expresses their thoughts and feelings in different ways, and I certainly appreciate these alternate means.
I guess my point in all of this, Sophia, is we are not alone. Your spirit may have left mortality, but you and our Savior did not leave us comfortless. Our family has been here supporting us all along, our friends have stepped-up and been buoys of strength and joy, and even those whom we didn't previously know have reached out and been the Savior's means of comforting us.
Before you were born, Daddy gave me a blessing. In that blessing, the Lord urged me to continually be in prayer, especially in those few days which were ahead of us. I cannot stress enough how much of a strength the Lord has been through those days and on into now. Because of you, I feel a closer connection with Him and more of an understanding of how difficult His work must have been. Not only did He experience Daddy and I's emotions and physical pains during your birth and subsequent life, He experienced every moment of life of every single being who has ever walked and will ever walk this earth.
The magnitude of His strength is incomprehensible, and I feel honored that He loves me enough to help me as I experience life for the first time. Minutes before you were born, facing an experience I held apprehension over, I turned to Jesus Christ. Together with Daddy, I whispered a prayer to Him for the strength and peace only He could offer; for the acceptance of whatever His plan was. I can honestly say I have been comforted and blessed, often through His servants, as a result of having faith in Him.
I wouldn't trade this experience for anything. I wouldn't trade having had you. I wouldn't even pull you back from a place which is infinitely better than this just so I can have you here with me now. No regrets here - only lessons learned and testimonies strengthened.
I love you sweetheart. I miss you immensely. You are eternally in my heart.
Sincerely,
Mommy.
Ever since I met Daddy, I've been experiencing new ways of doing things I thought I knew how to do; A new way to love, new ways to communicate peacefully. Since you've been gone, I've found a new sort of remembering. Sweetie, I don't feel like I'm grieving... at least not in the way I always pictured "grief." I thought when a loved one died the next step was to be an emotional wreck - like how Daddy and I were when we first learned of your condition. I miss you - I miss the weight of your tiny body in my arms.
However, I feel peace.
I feel grateful to have had you, grateful my body is healing, grateful to have so many pictures and other mementos we can keep with us. I feel blessed to have Daddy beside me each day, and that we have been supported by so many around us.
I feel... strange, in a way, knowing I am your mother here on earth but you have already gone to be with your heavenly parents. Over nine months of preparation culminated in 4.5 days of parenthood. I feel like I should be doing something more - changing diapers, losing sleep, doing frequent loads of tiny baby laundry - but you did not require that of me. You and I have both fulfilled our ends of the bargain when it comes to your life. In the most solemn way, you are probably the "easiest" child Daddy and I will ever have; the one who will ask the least of us. All you ask now is for us to give a valiant effort to be with you again... and you can definitely count on that.
I never thought I would feel this way. I was expecting to have my world shaken like it was before. In a way, though, it has been. My faith in the Gospel has grown so much through everything, even before you were born, but especially in the time you were here with us.
I realized a couple days ago that we don't yet have any pictures of you on display in our home. The first step in that direction was a small frame with a picture of your tiny (although rather long for a newborn baby) feet which was given to us by Aunt Kym. It's a beautiful blue frame with a couple little rhymes and the words "My baby" on it. I've made it my goal to add more pictures of you around our home.
This past Sunday was the first time in about a month I've been able to make it through a whole three blocks of church, and it was amazing. First of all, we got your baby blessing certificate (which is now framed and on our wall.) Second, this was a fifth-Sunday so for the last block we got to stay together instead of split up into Priesthood and Relief Society meetings, which was also great. Also, next week is General Conference so it was Fast Sunday, and Testimony Meeting during the first block.
(I'm genuinely sorry for those whom I just majorly confused. Basically, next week is when every member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints gets to watch/listen to talks from our general leaders instead of having regular local church meetings. It's a bi-annual event - and the things they speak about are applicable and uplifting even for non-members, so feel free to tune in!
Click this link to find out how.)
Anyway, it may have been just me, but I detected a theme of "eternal families" in the testimonies borne, which was really nice. After the Bishop, who was conducting the meeting, sat down, I dragged Daddy up to the podium with me (so, yes, I was the first one up - eep!) Now, I believe the last time I got up to bear my testimony was shortly after we joined the ward in January. I tend to hold to the belief that you should go when you feel inspired to do so, and, although I won't say I haven't been nudged at all, I hadn't felt like I really, really needed to get up there... until now.
I didn't know what I was going to say. Planning never really works out anyway, as something about standing in front of a couple hundred people tends to wipe all thought from my working memory. So, I stepped up, pulled Daddy close to hold me while I spoke (not common practice, by the way, but I was feeling needy) and just... did it. And it felt so good. I'm not great at spontaneous public speaking, but I got what I needed to say out, and that's what matters.
I have to say - I love our ward. Daddy and I have considered moving into Saint Joseph so we'd be closer to his work and not have to spend so much on gas, but this ward, among other things, is keeping us here. I've written before how much of an outpouring of love and service we've received through all of this. They say you don't know who your friends are until you're in need, and these families have really stepped up. We have been so blessed by them.
In fact, a night or two before, a lady in the ward whom I have only rarely spoken with randomly dropped off a few comfort items (cozy blanket, fuzzy socks, candles and chocolate kisses) and a note just letting us know she was thinking about us. It was so wonderful. However, the love of our ward family has been felt in other ways too - in gestures as simple as a knowing smile or a hug. Everyone expresses their thoughts and feelings in different ways, and I certainly appreciate these alternate means.
I guess my point in all of this, Sophia, is we are not alone. Your spirit may have left mortality, but you and our Savior did not leave us comfortless. Our family has been here supporting us all along, our friends have stepped-up and been buoys of strength and joy, and even those whom we didn't previously know have reached out and been the Savior's means of comforting us.
Before you were born, Daddy gave me a blessing. In that blessing, the Lord urged me to continually be in prayer, especially in those few days which were ahead of us. I cannot stress enough how much of a strength the Lord has been through those days and on into now. Because of you, I feel a closer connection with Him and more of an understanding of how difficult His work must have been. Not only did He experience Daddy and I's emotions and physical pains during your birth and subsequent life, He experienced every moment of life of every single being who has ever walked and will ever walk this earth.
The magnitude of His strength is incomprehensible, and I feel honored that He loves me enough to help me as I experience life for the first time. Minutes before you were born, facing an experience I held apprehension over, I turned to Jesus Christ. Together with Daddy, I whispered a prayer to Him for the strength and peace only He could offer; for the acceptance of whatever His plan was. I can honestly say I have been comforted and blessed, often through His servants, as a result of having faith in Him.
I wouldn't trade this experience for anything. I wouldn't trade having had you. I wouldn't even pull you back from a place which is infinitely better than this just so I can have you here with me now. No regrets here - only lessons learned and testimonies strengthened.
I love you sweetheart. I miss you immensely. You are eternally in my heart.
Sincerely,
Mommy.
Monday, September 24, 2012
Several Days Ago
Dearest Sophia,
Several days ago, I gave birth to the most precious little angel I have ever met: you. In the days after that, I held you, kissed your soft cheeks and tiny lips, laughed, cried, prayed, loved, and grew more than I have in any other space of time. I am a different person because of you. I am more than me; more than just Daddy's wife, or Grandma's daughter. I am an angel's mother. I have seen perfection, and know what it takes to obtain it once more.
My testimony of the restored Gospel of Jesus Christ has grown tenfold, all because of you. Never have I seen so many miracles unfold before me. Never have I felt this kind of love for another; had any idea what it was like to bring one of our Father's spirits into the world.
Before you were born, I had a couple blessings from Daddy, for different reasons. In them, the Lord revealed His intention to give us some time with you after your birth. He also offered comfort - assuring competent hospital staff, overall health, and peace for our situation. I have seen all of these promises and more fulfilled in the past week. I got to see Daddy give you a baby blessing, hear your sweet sounds, and spend more time with you than I had ever dreamed I would get. I have seen many individuals step up and offer both emotional and material assistance in our time of need. We have been blessed (undoubtedly due to faithfully paying tithing) to be able to pay our most pressing bills, and with leniency with our others. Truly, I cannot name the whole or even a small part of the miracles of this past week.
Like we know, no one ever said any of this would be easy. This particular situation was not designed for ease. But I know it is worth it. If there was any doubt before, there is none now. Tears will come. Daddy's cuddles will be necessary. But as long as we're doing our best to get back to you, I can find peace.
I am thankful your little body now gets to rest. However, I would be lying if I said I didn't sob when I finally let your body go with the man from the funeral home. Again, I am thankful for the Gospel; for the Savior's understanding of our situation. I am thankful for friends and family, and their willingness to serve in our time of need. I am thankful for your Daddy's faithfulness and strength, as well as his devotion to both of us.
I cannot say enough. September 24th, 2012 at 3:59am was not the end, just as September 19th, 2012 at 1:30pm was not the very beginning. We will see you again. We will get to hold you close and feel your sweet presence brightening up the room. You are our miracle. You are our first child, our precious angel. Nothing and no one will ever replace you, but I look forward to getting to bring your siblings into the world and tell them all about the 4 days, 14 hours, and 29 minutes of Heaven Daddy and I experienced while you were here. Thank you, sweetheart. You are everything I ever wanted and more.
Sincerely,
Mommy.
Several days ago, I gave birth to the most precious little angel I have ever met: you. In the days after that, I held you, kissed your soft cheeks and tiny lips, laughed, cried, prayed, loved, and grew more than I have in any other space of time. I am a different person because of you. I am more than me; more than just Daddy's wife, or Grandma's daughter. I am an angel's mother. I have seen perfection, and know what it takes to obtain it once more.
My testimony of the restored Gospel of Jesus Christ has grown tenfold, all because of you. Never have I seen so many miracles unfold before me. Never have I felt this kind of love for another; had any idea what it was like to bring one of our Father's spirits into the world.
Before you were born, I had a couple blessings from Daddy, for different reasons. In them, the Lord revealed His intention to give us some time with you after your birth. He also offered comfort - assuring competent hospital staff, overall health, and peace for our situation. I have seen all of these promises and more fulfilled in the past week. I got to see Daddy give you a baby blessing, hear your sweet sounds, and spend more time with you than I had ever dreamed I would get. I have seen many individuals step up and offer both emotional and material assistance in our time of need. We have been blessed (undoubtedly due to faithfully paying tithing) to be able to pay our most pressing bills, and with leniency with our others. Truly, I cannot name the whole or even a small part of the miracles of this past week.
Like we know, no one ever said any of this would be easy. This particular situation was not designed for ease. But I know it is worth it. If there was any doubt before, there is none now. Tears will come. Daddy's cuddles will be necessary. But as long as we're doing our best to get back to you, I can find peace.
I am thankful your little body now gets to rest. However, I would be lying if I said I didn't sob when I finally let your body go with the man from the funeral home. Again, I am thankful for the Gospel; for the Savior's understanding of our situation. I am thankful for friends and family, and their willingness to serve in our time of need. I am thankful for your Daddy's faithfulness and strength, as well as his devotion to both of us.
I cannot say enough. September 24th, 2012 at 3:59am was not the end, just as September 19th, 2012 at 1:30pm was not the very beginning. We will see you again. We will get to hold you close and feel your sweet presence brightening up the room. You are our miracle. You are our first child, our precious angel. Nothing and no one will ever replace you, but I look forward to getting to bring your siblings into the world and tell them all about the 4 days, 14 hours, and 29 minutes of Heaven Daddy and I experienced while you were here. Thank you, sweetheart. You are everything I ever wanted and more.
Sincerely,
Mommy.
Sunday, September 23, 2012
from Daddy to his Angel
To my precious Sophia Grace. I will not be able to finish this with out teary eyes. This is Daddy. I know i have not said much through out this time. It has not been easy for me knowing that i had and have in a sense lost your sister Onnamaria, due to bad choices.
A few weeks ago your mommy and i were talking at she asked me if i was glad we had not aborted. At that point i was not sure. as that week ended i started noticing you moving and kicking mommy in the ribs and just going nuts. And for the first time a few days later i looked at mommy in the eyes and told her i was very thankful we did not abort you. That would have been the easy road as i look back to when we found out, to now.
I have learned a lot from mommy. What a very strong woman she is. How close she is to our father in heaven. How she is willing to follow Christ's example as closely as possible. I love mommy so very much. She is my best friend and i can not live with out her by my side.
After i told mommy i was glad we had not aborted i felt a great peace come over me. I would go to work and every one kept asking me how mommy and you were doing. I could talk about it easily because i had come to terms so to speak with what was going to happen.
The week leading up to your birth was interesting. I got a new QA in my room due to a lack of QA personnel in the plant. He has two children and some similar interests as i do. Once we got on the subject of you the tone completely changed. It's not every day you hear the parent of a child say she has a birth defect that has a 100% fatality rate and no one knows how this happens. He continued to tell me he's praying for the lucky 1%. I told him if that happens i am going to give him the biggest hug ever.
I so badly want to keep you throughout this mortal life and be able to teach you, raise you and watch you grow. I know its only for a short time but i have that desire to make right with the children that mommy and i have and what i was and am not able to do with your sister.
Sunday night before we went in to the hospital the next morning mommy asked me for a priesthood blessing. So i did, In the blessing there were words for mommy and for my self. See since the first visit with Doctor Gjoni, from Italy, he irritated me. It only takes one instance to allow me to not forgive some one. He instructed mommy to get off some pills with out question. I did not take kindly to this. And was ready to beat him up. In this blessing i gave mommy, she was told that the doctor would be competent and now what to do. I believe this was more for me than for mommy i suppose.
But as every thing began to happen i could tell that he was paying close attention to every detail. You know i am a doctor a doctor of BS as i call it BROWN SUGAR!
Doctor Gjoni, was very worried about every thing. Within good reason. TO my knowledge you were not in the correct direction for a normal birth. Turns out you were.
As everything unraveled, instead of listening with one ear i began to trust him. As i saw his genuine care pouring out i had no other desire but to allow him to do as only a person as he knows what to do.
The hardest thing I've had to do so far is tell mommy that every thing was going to be ok when i knew not the out come.
As you were born I could not help but hope you were alive and that i would be able to give you a name and blessing. As i cut the cord i saw your mouth open and i could not help but cry. Right as soon as you were cleaned up and dressed in your blessing dress. Grandpa Lusk, Bishop Jameson, and I put our hands under you and did give you a name and blessing.
I am so thankful that you have chosen your mother and I. For we love you so much, so thankful for your sweet spirit being in our midst. I am honored to be your mortal father here on earth and will do every thing i can to keep you close.
I LOVE YOU MY PRECIOUS ANGEL.
DADDY
A few weeks ago your mommy and i were talking at she asked me if i was glad we had not aborted. At that point i was not sure. as that week ended i started noticing you moving and kicking mommy in the ribs and just going nuts. And for the first time a few days later i looked at mommy in the eyes and told her i was very thankful we did not abort you. That would have been the easy road as i look back to when we found out, to now.
I have learned a lot from mommy. What a very strong woman she is. How close she is to our father in heaven. How she is willing to follow Christ's example as closely as possible. I love mommy so very much. She is my best friend and i can not live with out her by my side.
After i told mommy i was glad we had not aborted i felt a great peace come over me. I would go to work and every one kept asking me how mommy and you were doing. I could talk about it easily because i had come to terms so to speak with what was going to happen.
The week leading up to your birth was interesting. I got a new QA in my room due to a lack of QA personnel in the plant. He has two children and some similar interests as i do. Once we got on the subject of you the tone completely changed. It's not every day you hear the parent of a child say she has a birth defect that has a 100% fatality rate and no one knows how this happens. He continued to tell me he's praying for the lucky 1%. I told him if that happens i am going to give him the biggest hug ever.
I so badly want to keep you throughout this mortal life and be able to teach you, raise you and watch you grow. I know its only for a short time but i have that desire to make right with the children that mommy and i have and what i was and am not able to do with your sister.
Sunday night before we went in to the hospital the next morning mommy asked me for a priesthood blessing. So i did, In the blessing there were words for mommy and for my self. See since the first visit with Doctor Gjoni, from Italy, he irritated me. It only takes one instance to allow me to not forgive some one. He instructed mommy to get off some pills with out question. I did not take kindly to this. And was ready to beat him up. In this blessing i gave mommy, she was told that the doctor would be competent and now what to do. I believe this was more for me than for mommy i suppose.
But as every thing began to happen i could tell that he was paying close attention to every detail. You know i am a doctor a doctor of BS as i call it BROWN SUGAR!
Doctor Gjoni, was very worried about every thing. Within good reason. TO my knowledge you were not in the correct direction for a normal birth. Turns out you were.
As everything unraveled, instead of listening with one ear i began to trust him. As i saw his genuine care pouring out i had no other desire but to allow him to do as only a person as he knows what to do.
The hardest thing I've had to do so far is tell mommy that every thing was going to be ok when i knew not the out come.
As you were born I could not help but hope you were alive and that i would be able to give you a name and blessing. As i cut the cord i saw your mouth open and i could not help but cry. Right as soon as you were cleaned up and dressed in your blessing dress. Grandpa Lusk, Bishop Jameson, and I put our hands under you and did give you a name and blessing.
I am so thankful that you have chosen your mother and I. For we love you so much, so thankful for your sweet spirit being in our midst. I am honored to be your mortal father here on earth and will do every thing i can to keep you close.
I LOVE YOU MY PRECIOUS ANGEL.
DADDY
Saturday, September 22, 2012
Mommy's Little Shining Star
Dear Reader,
Notice how I didn't write "Dear Sophia"? Well, we went into the hospital Monday morning, per my doctor's instructions. At 1:02pm, I was admitted to the hospital. The doctor had been hesitant to do so, but since I kept having contractions which would make my blood pressure spike into the dangerous zone, I had had nausea which kept me from eating and sometimes drinking anything at least before the afternoon, and since it wasn't necessary for her to stay in for developmental purposes, he decided to go ahead and induce labor. 48 hours and 38 minutes later, our little angel was born. She was 5 pounds, 2.2 ounces, and 18 inches long. Even better, she is still here with us. Here's a picture:
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Of course, as anyone who has ever been induced knows, it's not *quite* that simple. Those 48 hours were not a cake walk. They were filled with a mixture of frustration over a lack of contractions or a lack of intensity/consistency, increasing pain/contractions, uncomfortable exams, hand grasping, many nurses, strange and new sensations in many different parts of my body, a wonderful epidural (which, really, was quite a blessing considering my blood pressure wasn't going down into a safer range any other way), love, friends, family, anticipation, worry, and that's not the half of it. At one point, Sophia's heart rate kept dropping then going back to a normal rate. I was getting less and less confident that we wouldn't get to meet her while she was still alive, but she pulled through.
It was frustrating waiting for everything to happen. I would get checked at one point and they'd say one thing, then it would be another, then the same thing as before, then something completely different. For a whole day, not much happened even though it looked like I was headed in the right direction.
Finally, Tuesday night, I got to rest from all the inducing medications and get some sleep (a term I use loosely in this situation.) Wednesday morning, the pitocin drip was started again and things slowly but surely went in the right direction. It was nice to hear the doctor sound pleased for once while he was checking my progress. Around 1:00pm, I was finally at 8-9cm, and 90% effaced (which was wonderful, considering I'd been basically a 5 for a majority of the time before that.) We had just barely gotten the update out when, at 1:15pm, while I was laying still in my bed and holding Charles's hand, I felt a burst inside me and a gush of fluids rush out of my body. Unquestioning, I said "My water just broke." and a flurry of activity began.
At 1:25pm, everyone was ready and all set up; I was told to start pushing. 1:26pm, my doctor told me he was going to do an episiotomy, which I am thankful for. Miss Sophia's head was down but her face was the closest to the birth canal. Either way, in her condition it was safer for her to go through a larger hole than there already was. 1:30pm, our angel was born. Yes, that's a five minute delivery. Pretty good, if I do say so myself.
Shortly after, my grandfather and our bishop were brought in to help Charles give her a name and blessing, something we like to do in our church. It's usually done in a Sunday church meeting shortly after the baby is born, as a 'welcome to the world' kind of thing, but we didn't know if we would have much time with her so we got to do it in the hospital. It was beautiful.
After that, while I was being stitched up, everyone who had come to see her got to come in a meet her for the first time. It was interesting being pretty exposed while all this was going on, but I honestly didn't care at the time. I had my angel. She was alive. That's all that mattered to me.
The time since then has been filled with so many wonderful things, all having to do with our sweet daughter. She has smiled, cooed, and snoozed her way into the hearts of many, many people. We have seen her open her eyes just slightly, heard her let out several small cries, held her tiny hands and kissed her soft, squishy cheeks. She is our little piece of heaven.
She has been with us nearly 3.5 days now. They have not been easy emotionally. I go from happy, to apprehensive, to miserable about the thought of losing her or feeling like a terrible mother because I can't feed her or do the things I want to make her comfortable, but I wouldn't trade them for anything. I love her more than I can express - meeting her just makes me want to make myself as perfect as she is so I can see her again later on. That's the goal. That's what we'll do. Mommy loves her Sophia.
Sincerely,
Lora/Mother to the sweetest, strongest little blessing.
Notice how I didn't write "Dear Sophia"? Well, we went into the hospital Monday morning, per my doctor's instructions. At 1:02pm, I was admitted to the hospital. The doctor had been hesitant to do so, but since I kept having contractions which would make my blood pressure spike into the dangerous zone, I had had nausea which kept me from eating and sometimes drinking anything at least before the afternoon, and since it wasn't necessary for her to stay in for developmental purposes, he decided to go ahead and induce labor. 48 hours and 38 minutes later, our little angel was born. She was 5 pounds, 2.2 ounces, and 18 inches long. Even better, she is still here with us. Here's a picture:
.jpg)
It was frustrating waiting for everything to happen. I would get checked at one point and they'd say one thing, then it would be another, then the same thing as before, then something completely different. For a whole day, not much happened even though it looked like I was headed in the right direction.
Finally, Tuesday night, I got to rest from all the inducing medications and get some sleep (a term I use loosely in this situation.) Wednesday morning, the pitocin drip was started again and things slowly but surely went in the right direction. It was nice to hear the doctor sound pleased for once while he was checking my progress. Around 1:00pm, I was finally at 8-9cm, and 90% effaced (which was wonderful, considering I'd been basically a 5 for a majority of the time before that.) We had just barely gotten the update out when, at 1:15pm, while I was laying still in my bed and holding Charles's hand, I felt a burst inside me and a gush of fluids rush out of my body. Unquestioning, I said "My water just broke." and a flurry of activity began.
At 1:25pm, everyone was ready and all set up; I was told to start pushing. 1:26pm, my doctor told me he was going to do an episiotomy, which I am thankful for. Miss Sophia's head was down but her face was the closest to the birth canal. Either way, in her condition it was safer for her to go through a larger hole than there already was. 1:30pm, our angel was born. Yes, that's a five minute delivery. Pretty good, if I do say so myself.
Shortly after, my grandfather and our bishop were brought in to help Charles give her a name and blessing, something we like to do in our church. It's usually done in a Sunday church meeting shortly after the baby is born, as a 'welcome to the world' kind of thing, but we didn't know if we would have much time with her so we got to do it in the hospital. It was beautiful.
After that, while I was being stitched up, everyone who had come to see her got to come in a meet her for the first time. It was interesting being pretty exposed while all this was going on, but I honestly didn't care at the time. I had my angel. She was alive. That's all that mattered to me.
The time since then has been filled with so many wonderful things, all having to do with our sweet daughter. She has smiled, cooed, and snoozed her way into the hearts of many, many people. We have seen her open her eyes just slightly, heard her let out several small cries, held her tiny hands and kissed her soft, squishy cheeks. She is our little piece of heaven.
She has been with us nearly 3.5 days now. They have not been easy emotionally. I go from happy, to apprehensive, to miserable about the thought of losing her or feeling like a terrible mother because I can't feed her or do the things I want to make her comfortable, but I wouldn't trade them for anything. I love her more than I can express - meeting her just makes me want to make myself as perfect as she is so I can see her again later on. That's the goal. That's what we'll do. Mommy loves her Sophia.
Sincerely,
Lora/Mother to the sweetest, strongest little blessing.
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