Archive for the ‘marriage’ Category

Sometimes it’s the little things.

Posted 03 Mar 2010 — by Mrs. Jenna
Category marriage, The Hubs

Let me start this post out by saying HOLY CRAP I am tired today. We saw John Mayer last night and didn’t get home until almost 1am! (The show was awesome, btw.) Abby ended up spending the night at the in-laws since I grossly underestimated what time we’d be able to pick her up at. (I thought the show would be done around 10:30 at the latest. I’m apparently old.)

Anyway, back to the reason for this post. John Mayer.

When I was younger, say…late teens, very early twenties, I was a music snob of sorts. (Well, let’s be honest. I still am. Sort of.)  I was involved in a scene where I wanted large acceptance and a compatable boyfriend for said scene. Admitting to enjoying bands like John Mayer and Dave Matthews would have been laughed at. I just didn’t want to admit to really liking them. And I thought I had to mask my love for these artists whenever I met a new guy just in case he thought they were lame.

And then I met the hubs.

I cautiously exposed portions of my music taste to him. I was more indie, he was a little indie and a lot hip-hop. And then he saw my CD collection. Complete with Dave Matthews, John Mayer, and countless other CDs I don’t advertise to the world. And know what he said? “I like Dave Matthews, they’re really good.” This man, who loved indie rock as much as me and old school hip-hop LIKED DAVE MATTHEWS BAND.

Internets – I knew we would go far.

So, last night while standing in the fourth row, with women (and strangely some men) yelling “I love you, John!” at the stage, I got to stand there with my husband, because even though John Mayer isn’t his favorite, he can still admit to liking him. And will be in the fourth row because he knows how much I want to be there.

We had a really good time.

The obligatory "One year ago today" post.

Posted 02 Mar 2010 — by Mrs. Jenna
Category Abigail, baby business, marriage, motherhood, paparazzi
I peed on one of these a year ago today.
We were in Mexico on a trip with my parents.
It was positive.
I sat on sink, covered my mouth, smiled and then laughed for a good minute before telling the hubs.
It was 6am after all.
Eight months later…
We love you little Abigail.

It’s been real, 2009.

Posted 31 Dec 2009 — by Mrs. Jenna
Category blog bidnass, marriage, motherhood, paparazzi

So…we’ve come to the infamous blog post on New Year’s Eve where bloggers ’round the world spout off resolutions everyone knows they won’t keep and wrap up the year. (I find it hilarious that I only blogged more because I got pregnant, and did not lose 10 pounds but instead gained 40 and then lost 30…so essentially I GAINED 10lbs. Awesome.)

Mine shall be no different.

If ever there was a year that was a rollercoaster of emotions, it was this one. The nerd in me wanted to make a line chart of my ups and downs, but that seems a little excessive.

I ended 2008 by driving to Lutsen, MN in THE WORST BLIZZARD EVAR and then skied my way into 2009. I took a girls trip to Vegas where I crippled myself in my last attempt at heels. I went to Mexico with the hubs and my parents, where I peed on a stick and found out my life was never to be the same. Not long after that, my beloved Grandmother Gabba took a turn for the worse, and in April, she passed away.  I said goodbye to a friend far, far too early. Over the summer, I bitched and moaned about being pregnant with Abby, who kicked my ass internally. I had a baby shower, and had to put my darling kitty Miles to sleep. I attempted a weekend in the north woods at 28 weeks pregnant. I turned 29, had about a million labor scares, had another baby shower, gave birth 2 weeks early to my precious daughter, born on her late Great Grandmother Gabba’s birthday.  And for the past 2 months I have watched her grow to be the best baby a mother could ask for.

If ever there was a year of growing up, this was it. I can safely say that I am not the same person I was on that chair lift in Lutsen a year ago. I am so much different. I know what it’s like to lose a part of your heart by losing a loved one. I also know that there is no love like the one you can have for your own child. My mother has become more of a best friend than I ever imagined, and more important to me now that I know what she went through for me. (Read: LABOR.)

I’m not totally ready to file this year away. Parts of it I’m more than happy to try to forget, but others I feel like I never should forget. However, in a little more than 12 hours, 2010 will be here whether I like it or not.

I AM excited to see what 2010 has to offer. It’s no longer about me, but all about Abby. I do turn 30 next year, so that sucks, but unlike this year, I’m looking forward to closing the door on my 20s. But that’s another post for another day. (Another day, in September. Start thinking of appropriate birthday gifts NOW, people.)

My resolutions? Fast and furious – Try to be healthy and be the best momma I can be. I’m pretty sure those aren’t too lofty.

So, that’s a wrap. We’ll see you in 2010, ladies and germs.

So much to be thankful for.

Posted 27 Nov 2009 — by Mrs. Jenna
Category Abigail, marriage, paparazzi

We made the five hour drive with little to no drama (stupid travel warmer is a piece of crap), and Abby rewarded us with three, count ’em…THREE poops in 12 hours. (I KNOW, right?!) The pack-n-play was set up with ease and it’s the greatest invention of all time. Ours has a changing table and bassinet attachment.

Yesterday morning started out with friends of my parents stopping by with gifts. Eventually Abby was turned into one.

My mom, auntie and I made Thanksgiving dinner and everything turned out spectacular! I made my grandma’s infamous frozen fruit salad. It was delish and a big hit as usual. I’ve decided it’s now my job to make that for every holiday in her honor. Abby will eventually have to learn how to make it, since it’s her middle namesake’s recipe.

After dinner, we all sat in a chair, and the tryptophan kicked in. (Well, for Abby I’m sure it was just a pleasant milk drunk.)

So so very much to be thankful for.
**A big thank you to Mitzi for being my personal photographer while she’s here. LOVE that iPhone.

The best and most horrifying day of my entire life.

Posted 02 Nov 2009 — by Mrs. Jenna
Category Abigail, baby business, marriage, motherhood, paparazzi, The Hubs

Please note: what you are about to read is a birth story…of EPIC PROPORTIONS.

(cue random Tenacious D music now.)


It will be graphic and I will leave nothing out. You’ve been warned.

This story picks up where this one left off. We arrived at the hospital around 1pm on Monday, where we got settled into our birth room, and I put on my fabulous hospital gown. I got checked in, and after 2 unsuccessful attempts at placing my IV (apparently high blood pressure makes your veins less than awesome), it was in, and I was started on saline. the hubs’ folks arrived around this time.

At 4pm, they started me on magnesium sulfate, which acts as an anti-seizure kind of medication used for pre-eclampsia. It’s a smooth muscle relaxer, meaning it was going to make me feel like a lop. It also meant I might not contract well on my own since it was going to slow everything down. Around 4:30, they broke my water (which was an awkward sensation to say the least) and determined I was now about 6cms dilated on my own. In my mind, I’m PRAYING I don’t have the baby in the next hour – I was convinced everything was moving so quickly (and painlessly) that my parents wouldn’t make it in time. I had no idea how wrong I was.

I had a couple real contractions before the epidural arrived. They weren’t spaced well, but I finally knew what a real contraction felt like. (Meaning – I hadn’t actually had one yet. When they say “you’ll know” they effing MEAN IT.) The anesthesiologist arrived and gave me my epidural. It kind of hurt, and he used about a hundred yards of tape to secure it to my back. Immediately I could tell that it wasn’t working right. I had full sensation on my right side, and not much on my left. I was checked again – still 6cms, and the baby was in a bad position (I assume since I’d been laying on my left side for roughly a month) – so they had me roll onto my right side to move the baby, and maybe help activate the epidural on that side.  It sort of helped, and later they had me roll almost onto my stomach on my right side to help things along more. This seemed to get the epi working on both sides, so even though the anesthesiologist would come back later and check to see if I wanted it redone, instead of monkeying with it – I said to leave it. Bad idea.

Our differing views of labor.

My parents arrived not long after the epi was in place. I was so relieved. John the Midwife decided that I wasn’t contracting well enough on my own to progress, so they started a slow drip of Petocin. (So, contracting agent AND muscle relaxer now pumping through my veins.) I was starting to fall asleep between contractions because of the mag sulfate. It was weird.

By 9pm, I was ready to push. Excellent – let’s get this show on the road, shall we? So, I started pushing. I also issued a blanket apology to everyone in the room for the large amounts of profanity I would at some point be spewing forth.  I could feel all my contractions in my butt and was getting only a little pain relief. But I pushed. And pushed. AND PUSHED.

Around 11pm, I was so puffy from, well…everything and so out of it from the mag sulfate that my eyes were pretty well closed and not to be opened again. I just remember my eyelids feeling so heavy and thinking my eyes had swollen shut.  My mom was getting worried – I’d been pushing for 2 hours and there was no talk of any sort of assistance. Apparently around 11pm John the Midwife had to leave to deliver another baby down the hall, leaving his Student Midwife Julie to take over. I was so tired, and felt the worst pain, but kept pushing anyway. Luckily (or maybe unluckily?) my contractions were 3-5 minutes apart so I had some resting time between, but it was just drawing the process out further. Nurse Ratchet was now in the room, yelling at me to grab my legs and pull, but I was too tired and my hips kept cramping so NO I WILL NOT GRAB MY LEGS THIS POSITION IS JUST FINE. I made a comment around this time as well that wouldn’t it be great if I could just have the baby right past midnight so that it’s birthday would be on my grandmothers? Wouldn’t that be great internets…to prolong this suffering at LEAST one more hour? I clearly was not in my right mind at this point.

At midnight, John the Midwife came back. My mother and my mother in law were giving him the evil eye for not helping. I was screaming bloody murder with every push now and could not see an end in sight. I just wanted this baby OUT. I didn’t care how or why – just GET IT OUT NOW.  Deep down I didn’t want to hear C-section, but I wanted to hear SOME kind of plan B, because seriously, I couldn’t push anymore.

(I’m quite sure it was around this time that I yelled “I’M NEVER HAVING ANOTHER FUCKING BABY EVER AGAIN” as well as “GET IT OUT OF ME! FUCK!” and “I CAN’T PUSH ANYMORE IT HURTS TOO FUCKING BAD.” Hey – don’t look at me – I warned you I was going to swear. THAT’S why I apologized ahead of time.)

John the Midwife then gave me this – if within 5 pushes (which I later learned meant contractions) the baby wasn’t out they would get the vacuum. THANK GOD. A PLAN! So I kept pushing. And I could feel the pushes where I pushed correctly. AND IT HURT. So John gave me some sort of a local numbing shot IN MY VAG. Yes, internets – I agreed to have a needle placed in my vagina to numb up the area because THAT sounded better than the pain I was feeling. I kept pushing, and knew I was doing it right, and let out a scream that would make a harpee jealous every single time. And I didn’t care. I had to scream. Nurse Ratchet kept telling me to use the screaming energy for pushing and had I not been so knocked out I would have knocked her out. I was so tired and amped up that I started feeling like I was starting to black out every time I pushed. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. John made me focus and said that the baby was RIGHT THERE just push again. He was stretching me the whole time to help make way. And then I did it. I decided I didn’t care how much it hurt, I was going to push the baby out. And so I did.

At 12:49 am, on Tuesday October 27th – my late grandma Rita’s birthday – Abigail Rita was born, weighing 6lbs 6ozs and 20 inches long.

Turns out, she had her hand up next to her face the whole time, forcing me to force her and her stinking hand & elbow out WITH HER HEAD. And thus, a second degree tear. I didn’t care. I was so happy to have her out that I nearly passed out from exhaustion and elation. Thanks to the Mag Sulfate, I totally missed her being born, my eyes were shut the whole time. She was a little out of it at birth as well, scoring only 6 on her initial APGAR, but quickly rebounded to a 9 on her second.

And yes, I did tell John the Midwife and his trusty Student Midwife Julie to go ahead and sew up my vag completely while repairing my tear because I had no use for it anymore. Seriously. Why would I ever want to get pregnant again? It nearly KILLED ME.

I could hear everyone cooing and talking about how beautiful she was (and that sadly, she DID end up with my toes) and I couldn’t get my crap together enough to realize they were talking about my daughter. The one I just gave birth to.

When they finally brought her over and laid her in my arms – I cried. I did it. I actually survived nearly FOUR HOURS of pushing, and 38 weeks of pregnancy…and I had a baby girl.  She was so awake and alert, and upon hearing my voice looked directly at me. It was the greatest moment of my life thus far.

A puffy, crying hot mess. Not the baby – me.

The next 24 hours I was still out of it from the mag sulfate. I held onto my little girl for a bit, but the hubs had to do a lot of work, including her first diaper change. Once they cut the dose in half, I felt MUCH better, and then when shut off completely Tuesday, I felt like a million bucks. Even with a pad the size of Texas between my legs.  I stayed in the hospital until Thursday morning so they could monitor my blood pressure, which is still a little high.

And I’m bringing this novel of a blog post to a close. The hubs just handed Abby over to me, and I can’t do anything but stare at her, tears welling up in my eyes. Yeah, yeah, hormones. But my god, she is perfect. Absolutely perfect. Every moment of pain, frustration, and sickness of this pregnancy was worth it. You really don’t ever know how much you can love someone until they’re placed in your arms in the first moments of their own lives.