Bacon's Boots Blog: June 2014

This Day Last Year...

This day last year I was very broken.

My insides were slowly filling with blood.

The pregnancy was over.

I was nine weeks pregnant when the pain got to be too much and I finally went to the ER. I felt bloated and light-headed. I didn't want my favorite dinner "cream of zucchini soup) that Ben had made for me. I left the table and went upstairs to lie down, hoping it would pass.

We put Felix to bed. Ben went to bed. I went downstairs to watch TV and ate a Twix. Things didn't get better. I tried calming down by running water over my wrists. It always worked before when I felt dizzy or lightheaded.

It wasn't until I was on the phone with the nurse, tried to stand up and fell to the floor that I decided it was time to head to the ER. I woke Ben up and he called his mom to come watch Felix. In the time since all this happened I often think about Felix and how I didn't say good-bye to him. What if I had died? How could I not say good-bye?

I'm sure the order of events or what happened compared to what I remember may not match up. Ben remembers more clearly what happened. I just remember pieces, weird ones at that. The pale color of my skin. The cold of the blood. The rolling through dark hallways under the street.

From the time we arrived at the hospital to the time of surgery I call "Let's Figure Out What's Wrong with Christi" time. We went through everything. Blood work, fecal samples, various possibilities, ultrasound orders.

I had two blood transfusions and felt better. I remember joking with the black nurse administering them that she was the one giving me my color back. She loved that. But about twenty minutes after the transfusions I was pale, dizzy and in intense pain again.

In the ultrasound room I remember thinking, "I'm not a doctor, but where are my organs?" They couldn't be seen through all the blood.

The pregnancy had burst my right fallopian tube.

We waited for surgeons, nurses, anesthesiologists and techs to assemble. It felt like forever. Right before they put me under I pulled the mask off and said, "Someone needs to tell me I'm going to be okay, even if they have to lie." They did, and out I went.

The next day my surgeon, who I am indebted to for always, came to see me. I'm sorry, came to lecture me. And rightfully so. She said that when they cut me open they were bailing blood clots the size of grapefruits out of my abdomen as fast as they could. That the human body has about five liters of blood on average and I had three of it in my abdomen. She said if I had waited an hour to come in I'd be dead. She said that I need to learn to pay attention to my body. Impressive pain tolerance or not.

The next few days were dark, painful, terrifying and blurry. The next few months weren't much different. I recovered in the maternity ward because they didn't have any rooms elsewhere. The nurses kept telling me my baby (which they thought was in the NICU) would be fine. I was given "New Mommy" cookies. It was a bit of a cruel joke.

My body had betrayed me. My mind was certain my demise was inevitable. I had visions of life around me but without me. I was numb. I felt like I had carried death inside me. I felt nothing. It was...bad. I didn't believe I'd ever come out of it.

But I did. I slowly began to feel. Brain shrinking appointments helped. Family helped. Distractions, projects and goals helped. Ben, my rock and comfort, guided me out of the darkness. But ultimately it was my deciding I wanted to live which changed everything. This experience wouldn't end me. Change me, yes. Affect me and my beliefs, choices and outlook, yes. But not end me. It hadn't made me strong. I was already strong. I just had to feel it. And the only way I could find that feeling was time. God damn, slow creeping, tediously excruciating time.

It's amazing what a year can do. This day this year I have a tiny, week old human sleeping on my chest. Puppies at my feet. A two-year old snoozing upstairs. The love of my life at my fingertips. I am happy. There is life in my life. Fully, chaotically, lovingly.

I'll always remember this day last year but I'm no longer broken.

Felix's Onesie Quilt

So many people have told me how awesome it is going to be with another little boy. "You already have all the clothes!" Yeah. No. That's not (entirely) how we roll in our house. Sure, with a new little boy on the way I felt it was time to organize. Time to move all the clothes Felix outgrew to the new gremlin's room.

Except for those outfits Ben and I fell in love in Felix's first year. Those are special. Those evoke memories. I got it in my head to create a quilt of all the onesies and jammies that mattered most to us. Thanks a lot, Pinterest.

I laid out all the clothes to see what I had. Monkeys. I had a lot of monkeys.

Then I cut them to the size I wanted. Math is hard and I don't like this part of crafts.

My first corner! Look, it matches!

Totes an Ikea sewing machine. Love it. Sturdy little guy for $70.

Finished quilt top. I'll be honest, production pretty much came to a standstill at this point. I can see why people just do the top and send the rest out to be finished by someone else.

Luckily for me I have an Aunt Pat who came all the way from Alabama to teach me how to tie carrot tops and make a binding. (Ok, she may have visited family and viewed the country on her journey, but pretty sure the whole trip was just for my quilt.)

Complete with binding. God, I was SO proud of my (not perfect) functional corners.

I had an absolute blast. I hated and loved all of it. Quilting is hard, peeps. This is why the people who quilt are patient, older, steady-handed women. Not me. This was my first attempt into quilting. I wanted it to be something important so I would try hard to make it perfect. Well, I did try hard but it's not perfect. It's perfectly wonderful and Felix adores it. But there are lots of flaws.

I still have the baby quilt my grandma made me. It is falling apart because I loved it so much as a kid. I still remember the patches and the edges and how they would feel as I fell asleep. I hope this quilt is the same kind of thing for Felix.

I love looking at the patches and remembering how tiny he was when he wore the clothes.

How the patch with the stain on it was from the Puyallap Fair when he crapped through his diaper and I threw the onesie in the trash. And how Ben was so sad because he loved that onesie. And I went back and dug it out of the trash to take it home. And how, no matter how much we washed and bleached it, the stain was set.

Or his little striped onesie that made him look like a little french sailor.

Or his polka dot one that became capris and 3/4 length sleeves because I just wouldn't stop putting him in it.
His homemade Captain America onesie.

The owl from Maggie.

His cow on the butt.

Clown jumper.

Just all the snuggles that happened in his first year and how much I adored them all.

Sigh.

36 Weeks Update

34 Weeks Update.

How far along: 36 Weeks

Gender: BOY!

Weight gain: 2 lbs. 1 lb if I've pooped recently.

Maternity clothes: Maternity clothes, burlap sack, whatever. I do know our over-sized bath towels no longer wrap round me and I no longer fit into normal human-sized bathroom stalls.

Stretch marks: So bright that I can practically hear them arriving.

Belly button in or out: Out!

Best moment this week: Going to see "Once" with Ben at the Paramount, then to Lola for lamb ravioli. Seeing a picture from my maternity photo shoot and saying "That's adorable! Who is that?"

Worst moment this week: Having to deal with idiots and not being able to use my slingshot OR nerf gun as problem resolution.

Miss anything: Wine. And every once in a while I'll go to flop down on the bed or couch on my stomach with my legs curled up under me. Then I think twice, just in time.

Movement: Less large movements and more rolling. He's getting cramped.

Cravings: Chocolate ice cream. Like the ones from lunchroom in Jr. High in those cups.

Queasy or sick: Doing good!

Mood: Yesterday I was livid for no reason. If there was something available that equaled less than no reason I'd have that.

Looking forward to: Finishing Felix's quilt. My baby shower! Meeting this little guy. Counting the days!