Thursday, November 18, 2010

Catching Up

Oil and water, nursing school and blogging, one in the same.  Let's play a little catch up.

Summer brought two additions to our family.  First, this little guy, who came out delectably perfect.

And has grown into this yumminess.

Then came Pixie.  Tipping the scales at 3lbs. 3oz. at 7 months old she has wiggled into our hearts.                                                                                                                   



My Mom and I went to Virginia when the little one was born.  We spent about two weeks hugging, cuddling, and loving the new guy.  We did sneak off a few time and do some sightseeing too. 

At the Potomac Riverwalk
Then Phil and I went to Virginia.  More hugging, snuggling, loving, and sightseeing.

Since it is against Phil's religion to take pictures off the camera - this is actually a picture of the Capitol Building I took when I was there with my Mom.  Since it looked the same 2 months later when Phil and I were there, it seemed okay to use.  Our real pictures are tucked away safe and sound on the memory card. 

Moving on...

She is going to be a big sister.  She broke the news by announcing “my Mommy’s tummy is going to have a baby!”  So we excitedly await the end of May when her Mommy’s tummy will birth the next niece or nephew.


Only one more semester and my classmates and I can sport some awesome nursing wear and graduate!  But only if I survive having Satan as one of my main instructors.

courtesy of Flickr


Oh, and we’re expecting…a phone call. We finished the 9,384,548,878,497 pages of paperwork to prove that we are keeping absolutely no secrets from anyone.  We did the required 8,968,513,578 modifications to our home to guarantee that the level of baby proofing would in fact keep Phil and I from accessing anything sharp, potentially sharp, poisonous, potentially poisonous, flammable, potentially flammable, dangerous, or potentially dangerous (get the idea) in our home.  We are ready and waiting. Actually, ready to wait.  Getting that phone calls sometime next June (after graduation, see above) would be amazing.  We've waited over 5 years already, what's another six months or so.  If it comes before that we will enjoy a wild ride on the "It Was Meant To Be" train. 
 

Wednesday, June 2, 2010

Bigger & Better

That’s the direction our family is headed.

Tomorrow my baby sister is having a baby of her own (well not her very own, she has to share with her husband). Babies aren’t always easy to get here, so it’s that much sweeter when one makes it into our family.

It will be an extra special day.

Is my heart crushed because she is having her first and I should have two or three by now?
Yes, more than anyone could imagine.
Is my heart full of so much happiness and excitement for her and her little one?
Yes, more than anyone could imagine.


I’m thinking it should be illegal to feel these emotions unmedicated.

I have a little pet peeve of people (magazine articles and Internet sites) that suggest when living with infertility an alternative to motherhood is being an Aunt.

Being an Aunt hasn’t made me feel one ounce like a mother, but it has done something more profound. It has made me realize that I can love a child unconditionally even if they weren't born to me.

This knowledge gives me peace knowing that no matter how our children come to us, I can love them as deeply as any other mother.

This is the little one that I love more that I thought I could. I can’t wait to love her little cousin just as much.







Friday, May 28, 2010

Polly Wanna "Barrett"


I believe one of the best ways to gauge the kind of words spoken in ones home is to have a parrot. A parrot that LOVES to repeat what he hears. Tarzan is just that, a parrot with an extensive vocabulary.

I took it as a good sign when one of his first noises he mimicked was laughter. We have plenty of that in our home. Come to think of it he also would do a monkey call, so...

Over the last year and a half he has sweetly cooed “oh hi”, “helloooo”, “how are you”, “I love you”, “whatcha doing”, “oh yum”, “see ya later”, and “come here”. But this episode of parrot parental bliss has ended.

His latest favorite (meaning he says it over and over and over and over again)is “Barrett”. While this seems innocent enough, it’s not. He doesn’t coo it like he does his other phrases. He sounds annoyed.

My poor Barrett is being scolded by the bird all day long.

Barrett is a special addition to our family, he is our middle child, and requires 10 time more attention than everyone else combined. He paces nervously, he hates laundry, can’t stand cell phones, has no concept of personal space, and loves to pant the worst dog breath ever right into your face. That doesn’t mean we don’t love him to pieces, we just MIGHT not be showing him the love he needs. This has been made evident by the fact that Tarzan has said “Barrett” about 500 times since I started writing this.

Oh Barrett, I’m so sorry, I hope Tarzan learns a new favorite soon.

P.S. Barrett, you're a lot bigger than he is... if you happen to take a wing off I wouldn't blame you.

Thursday, May 13, 2010

The L&D Script


Welcome to Labor & Delivery, I’ll be your Nurse for the day.

Yep me, the one who’s kinda crazy thanks to a good 5 years of infertility

I have a pretty convincing “I’m a student nurse and couldn’t be happier to help you!” façade when I mutter the following lines:

Oh I see, you’re 19 and this is your 3rd? I’m sorry, that must be rough.

You already have two girls and you really wanted a boy this time but got stuck with another girl? Life isn’t fair, is it?

No, I don’t think its routine for the doctor to “tuck” up some of your “extra” tummy during your cesarean. I do know swimsuit season is right around the corner, and you’re right, it is a lousy time of year to have a baby.

You’re right, that was silly of me to think you would want to breastfeed when you can get free formula from WIC.

Yeah, kinda like house arrest I guess, it’s more an anti-theft device to make sure no one takes her from the hospital. No, I don’t know who would ever want to steal a baby.


This makes up for it though…

Yes, she really is beautiful.

I agree, you’re wife did an amazing job.

Yep, he has lots of curly hair. Nope, he’s perfectly healthy. Really, he is. I know, amazing, huh?

3 years is a long time trying to have a baby, congratulations!

You’re right, he does have your nose.

Do you want a pink or purple bow in her hair?

We’re going to give him his first bath and the birthmom wants you two in there.

Friday, April 9, 2010

Nursing School Confessions



I failed my IV skills test.

Yep, I start countless IV’s, on little old folk, with little spidery veins, in the back of moving ambulances, with my eyes closed (not really, practically though), and I failed this skill on testing day.

It went like this…

It was a dark and stormy night (again, not really, just setting the mood) I walked into the nursing lab and signed in 2 hours prior to my scheduled test time, planning on learning all 28 steps required to start an IV “their way”. I have no problem adding 23 steps to a procedure I am competent in, to make sure I am doing things “their way” after all it’s “their program”.

About 5 minutes after I walked in my name was bellowed. Umm…I have two more hours till my test time I gingerly say to a wretchedly miserable stout woman glaring at me (my memory may be a little tainted). We are running two hours ahead of schedule, would you rather we be running two hours behind?! She snorts. Umm, no…but I was planning on using the 2 hours to practice, ma’am.

You’re a paramedic, don’t you already know how to start IV’s, a helpful classmate piped up. I clenched my fists to keep from backhanding her. The paramedic thing is a secret I try to keep. Generally nurses and paramedics are not BFFs. Neither fully appreciates the other, both thinking they know more and work harder than the other. Ironically, I have come to learn in a way they are both right. Her squinty little eyes lit up….oh a paramedic, huh? Well come on in, this should be interesting.

I walked into the room that was being used for testing and realize that it was the mock NICU room, with isolettes containing fake dead babies along two walls and fake plastic birthing vaginas along the other wall, a little distracting. It was like fire and brimstone, with Satan Instructor sitting in the middle of it all. I gathered myself up and began to tend to the lone arm that was sitting on a table.

I proceeded to establish an IV in the plastic arm. Then came the fury, Satan Instructor was so disgusted with me I fought the urge to hand her a bucket to throw-up into. She spit out my abominations in list order - I swabbed the site with alcohol clockwise, not counter clockwise like the training video clearly demonstrated, I used two pieces of tape to secure the IV instead of three, was I asking for it to be ripped out with my two measly little pieces of tape, I referred to the arm as Mr. Walters, not Mr. Walter (no “s”, my bad), and I warned Mr. Walter(s) of a “small poke” not a “ little pinch”. Her face said it all; I was a loser who just killed Mr. Walter(s) by my horrifically vicious IV skills.

In my defense, her video sucked, I fell asleep half way through it, so no, I didn’t note the counter clockwise rotation of the alcohol swab, I didn’t think that a lone plastic arm would flail about to the point of ripping an IV out, and my IV’s don’t “pinch” they “poke”. They have been “small pokes” or “big pokes” for the last 7 years, they didn’t start magically “pinching” that day. Oh and sorry Mr. Walter(s), the (s) just sounds more natural.

Satan Instructor shoved my evaluation paper at me with FAILED circled in red, telling me that I would have to come back the next day and she might be able to retest me then, or maybe the next day, or the next, whenever she “got around to it”. I explained that today was my only day off work. She laughed and said it was time for me to choose whether I was going to commit myself to nursing or continue to be “just a paramedic”.

I walked out calling her bad names under my breath. Then it hit me, I still had over an hour and a half before my scheduled test time. I took in a deep breath and gathered my “I am a sleep deprived, full time student, full time employee, and not taking crap from anyone” self and went back into the dead baby/plastic vagina room. I let her know that I would be coming back to take my test at the appointment time I had been assigned. When she objected loudly to my declaration it caught the attention of another testing instructor, a sweet grandmotherly type of lady with big white puffy hair and strong perfume.

Satan Instructor stormed out of the dead baby/plastic vagina room and insisted that Grandma Instructor follow her to her office. I could hear rumbles of her satanic voice mixed with the charm of Grandma Instructor’s melancholy voice.

They immerged. Grandma Instructor said that she would test me at my given appointment time. Bless her!

When I finished testing with Grandma Instructor she nodded her head and smiled. She said under her breath “you proved her wrong”. Satan Instructor had warned her about me and my sinful ways. What Satan Instructor didn’t know was that before Grandma Instructor taught nursing, she taught paramedics.

She handed my test paper with PASSED circled. She asked for my FAILED paper, folded it in two, tore it in fours and threw it away. As I was walking out she said to me, I love paramedics. Oh Grandma Instructor, and this paramedic loves you!

Tuesday, February 2, 2010

Faith Courage & Love



I wear it because I need reminders....


Faith

"Faith fuels hope... as it flows freely, our perspective changes; our vision becomes clearer. We begin to look for the best, not the worst, in life and in others. We gain a deeper sense in life's purpose and meaning. Despair gives way to joy."

~David S. Baxter


Courage

"Perhaps strength doesn't reside in never being broken, but in the courage required to grow strong in the broken places."

~Lindsey Redfern


Love

"Where there is great love, there are always miracles."
~Willa Sibert Cather


The Vintage Glass Bead

It's been around awhile, through a lot, and still beautiful; classy even.


The Pearl

Beautiful things can come of ugly situations.


Thanks to The R House

and their Etsy Shop


Friday, January 8, 2010

Gained Some Personal Knowledge

Treadmills can be dangerous. Stepping onto one that is going at a brisk 6mph may cause falls, abrasions, burns, and most of all extreme embarrassment. Trust me, I know.


There are about 40 of my closest gym friends laughing hysterically as they recount "the accident" to everyone they know. I can hear it now..."she got a few stumbles in before falling onto her knees, then right onto her side then bam off the treadmill and against the mirror wall, it was incredible!"


I was completely absorbed in picking out my gym play list on my iPod while I wondered over to "my" treadmill, the one under the ceiling fan. With my music playing and me staring down at my iPod I stepped onto that twirling monster completely unaware that someone had left it turned on.


In the few seconds that my treadmill acrobatics lasted a lot went through my mind. First, why is this thing trying to throw me off?! Then, wow its really tossing me around! Lastly I heard all the gasps, "oh my"s, and I think a few chuckles, as I finally came to rest smashed up against the wall that I had been thrown into.


I quickly returned to my feet, exclaimed to everyone "that was really embarrassing," got back on the now stopped treadmill, and began my run.


The lady next to me and gym people were really freaked out. I might have snickered a little when she screamed call 911, but I realized that she now had the attention of everyone in the gym, including the people who had not be fortunate enough to witness my impressive spill. The gym workers wanted to listen to the lady and have paramedics "check me out". I cringed and assured them that if I'm well enough to run, I probably didn't need their assistance. I already had enough people laughing at me, I really didn't need a couple of paramedics laughing too. I know they would.


The lady that left the treadmill on came over to "apologize" by saying she didn't think anyone would be so oblivious as to step onto an already moving treadmill (okay, I have to give her that one), and she had left it on because she couldn't get it to turn off. Umm....thanks? Oh and by the way its that giant red button that says STOP.