R.S. Emeline's Blog, page 2
June 7, 2013
The Finish Line: Boy Wonder Arrives
It was a typical sunny day in the desert, and the weather man promised excessive heat for the next four days. I was thirty-eight weeks pregnant, and like every other day of the past nine months my stomach dictated what I wanted to eat. That’s what brought me to the base’s Starbucks at 1107. Before I’d reached the door I could taste the delicious brownie I had my heart set on.
Then my water broke.
In front of six Marines who barely looked old enough to shave.
If things happened the way Hollywood portrayed them, those Marines would have had a story to tell their buddies when they got back to work. Luckily for me, when my water broke, nature took its course and the water was more of a trickle than a gush.
Knowing what was important, I still got my brownie.
The drive to the hospital took six minutes--an eternity when every bump and stop caused a fresh gush of fluid to escape. When my sister and I secured a coveted ‘expectant mother’ parking spot we hustled, or in my case, waddled with a sense of urgency, to the labor and delivery floor.
Labor and delivery at the base hospital is a lot like any other place in the military. A lot of hurry up and wait. Once I was secured into a room and strapped into an uncomfortable bed with monitors and IVs, the real fun started.
By fun, I mean the lying around waiting for the contractions to actually start doing something.
Five hours after I arrived, the doctor pushed Pitocin into my IV, in an attempt to move my labor along. Every hour a nurse came in and upped the amount of the drug dripping into my body, and every hour was the same. A lot of waiting without change.
It wasn’t until nine hours and half a season of Veronica Mars later, something finally happened. My contractions stopped playing nice and sent a pain through my body so intense the world went black. It felt like something had broken. The Marine later told me it was probably his wrist cracking when I put him in a wrist lock.
I rode the pain of each contraction, silently for the next hour. Veronica Mars was still playing on the television, but I couldn’t focus on what was happening. I no longer cared whether she was with Logan or some other guy. With each contraction, the pain escalated. By the time I was ready to give up on the idea of a pain medication free birth, the doctor informed me I was too far along. My son would arrive within the next two hours.
For those of you who have never experienced child birth, two hours is an interminable amount of time. It might as well be nine months. I didn’t want to contemplate another two hours of my insides being torn apart by Edward Scissorhands or my own personal torturer--Freddy from Nightmare on Elm Street.
As it turns out, Boy Wonder wasn’t interested in hanging out that long either.
Thirty minutes later I demanded, to the room at large, to get the doctor, because the baby was coming. I’m not sure who went for the doctor, or hit the call button, because at that moment I was hoping to go numb from the waist down. Blacking out would have been okay too.
Within moments the room was packed like a frat house on a Friday night after finals. Aside from my three person morale team that included the Marine, my sister, and my dear friend (and work husband), Corpsman K, there was a fleet of medical personnel: A doctor, a nurse, and three Navy Corpsmen. The perfect beginning to a joke.
It was a regular party, and I was the girl on the table.
I pushed for thirty minutes, and during that time I realized some very important things.
I’m stronger than I gave myself credit for.
It is possible to silence an entire delivery room with a single look directed at Corpsman K when he made a comment about his arms being sore from fanning me off with a clipboard.
The song Ring of Fire has a whole new meaning to me now.
At 2215 on June 6, 2013 Boy Wonder came into the world. Six hours shy of nine years to the day his brother was born an angel. On the anniversary of D-Day. To the sound of Taps playing across the base.
For the third time in my life, I experienced love at first sight.
Then my water broke.
In front of six Marines who barely looked old enough to shave.
If things happened the way Hollywood portrayed them, those Marines would have had a story to tell their buddies when they got back to work. Luckily for me, when my water broke, nature took its course and the water was more of a trickle than a gush.
Knowing what was important, I still got my brownie.
The drive to the hospital took six minutes--an eternity when every bump and stop caused a fresh gush of fluid to escape. When my sister and I secured a coveted ‘expectant mother’ parking spot we hustled, or in my case, waddled with a sense of urgency, to the labor and delivery floor.
Labor and delivery at the base hospital is a lot like any other place in the military. A lot of hurry up and wait. Once I was secured into a room and strapped into an uncomfortable bed with monitors and IVs, the real fun started.
By fun, I mean the lying around waiting for the contractions to actually start doing something.
Five hours after I arrived, the doctor pushed Pitocin into my IV, in an attempt to move my labor along. Every hour a nurse came in and upped the amount of the drug dripping into my body, and every hour was the same. A lot of waiting without change.
It wasn’t until nine hours and half a season of Veronica Mars later, something finally happened. My contractions stopped playing nice and sent a pain through my body so intense the world went black. It felt like something had broken. The Marine later told me it was probably his wrist cracking when I put him in a wrist lock.
I rode the pain of each contraction, silently for the next hour. Veronica Mars was still playing on the television, but I couldn’t focus on what was happening. I no longer cared whether she was with Logan or some other guy. With each contraction, the pain escalated. By the time I was ready to give up on the idea of a pain medication free birth, the doctor informed me I was too far along. My son would arrive within the next two hours.
For those of you who have never experienced child birth, two hours is an interminable amount of time. It might as well be nine months. I didn’t want to contemplate another two hours of my insides being torn apart by Edward Scissorhands or my own personal torturer--Freddy from Nightmare on Elm Street.
As it turns out, Boy Wonder wasn’t interested in hanging out that long either.
Thirty minutes later I demanded, to the room at large, to get the doctor, because the baby was coming. I’m not sure who went for the doctor, or hit the call button, because at that moment I was hoping to go numb from the waist down. Blacking out would have been okay too.
Within moments the room was packed like a frat house on a Friday night after finals. Aside from my three person morale team that included the Marine, my sister, and my dear friend (and work husband), Corpsman K, there was a fleet of medical personnel: A doctor, a nurse, and three Navy Corpsmen. The perfect beginning to a joke.
It was a regular party, and I was the girl on the table.
I pushed for thirty minutes, and during that time I realized some very important things.
I’m stronger than I gave myself credit for.
It is possible to silence an entire delivery room with a single look directed at Corpsman K when he made a comment about his arms being sore from fanning me off with a clipboard.
The song Ring of Fire has a whole new meaning to me now.
At 2215 on June 6, 2013 Boy Wonder came into the world. Six hours shy of nine years to the day his brother was born an angel. On the anniversary of D-Day. To the sound of Taps playing across the base.
For the third time in my life, I experienced love at first sight.
May 9, 2013
On: The Final Stretch
I've become the worst type of writer and blogger. You know the type. The one who hasn't bothered blogging. To be honest, until a few moments ago I didn't realize it had been quite so long. The days are all blending together.
That might have something to do with the day to day life of a pregnant woman. There just aren't enough hours in the day, enough energy in the body, or enough motivation to keep up with anything more than the basics of living.
There is a light at the end of the tunnel though! I'm nearly there. Boy Wonder is due June 10th, but there is just as much chance he'll be born earlier, because he's showing signs of being more than ready to make his appearance. After spending a delightful day hooked up to monitors in Labor and Delivery last week, the doctor told me she'd be surprised if he didn't come much sooner. It really all depends on him.
Now, I haven't been completely away from the writing bug. I have been working on a new project. Different from my usual writings, but hopefully just as good. If only I could find the motivation to work on it more. Even my motivation to do all the crafty things I've been doing in preparation for my son's arrival, have waned. Luckily, this happened after I finished the diaper bag, the changing pad, the burp cloths, the blankets, and the car seat wrap.
Everything is ready. I'm just waiting on him.
How have you all been?
R.S.
That might have something to do with the day to day life of a pregnant woman. There just aren't enough hours in the day, enough energy in the body, or enough motivation to keep up with anything more than the basics of living.
There is a light at the end of the tunnel though! I'm nearly there. Boy Wonder is due June 10th, but there is just as much chance he'll be born earlier, because he's showing signs of being more than ready to make his appearance. After spending a delightful day hooked up to monitors in Labor and Delivery last week, the doctor told me she'd be surprised if he didn't come much sooner. It really all depends on him.
Now, I haven't been completely away from the writing bug. I have been working on a new project. Different from my usual writings, but hopefully just as good. If only I could find the motivation to work on it more. Even my motivation to do all the crafty things I've been doing in preparation for my son's arrival, have waned. Luckily, this happened after I finished the diaper bag, the changing pad, the burp cloths, the blankets, and the car seat wrap.
Everything is ready. I'm just waiting on him.
How have you all been?
R.S.
March 15, 2013
On: Days Off
Today, the Munchkin has off from school. Something about it being a teacher day. I don't really know. I do know, that she seems to have these free days every month.
Maybe it's just me, but I never had this many days off from school growing up.
So, instead of staying home today with her climbing off the walls, we are making a trip to Palm Springs to pick up things for the Belly Munchkin's arrival.
I've decided this time around two things: 1) Children don't need as much as a new mother might think, and 2) I'm making as much of the stuff that is needed, by hand. Since I'm teaching myself to sew, this is both fun and a challenge.
What do you do on days when your children have off from school?
R.S.
March 8, 2013
On: Rain
Many moons ago, the Marine whisked me away from the Pacific Northwest and the gray, dreary, rainy days I'd grown up with. Since that time the number of rain days I've experienced have been minimal. Especially since we've lived in the desert. I can count on one hand the number of days it's rained at our current home in the four years we've been here.
Today included.
Now, a lot of people love the rain and rejoice whenever it graces us with its wetness.
Me, I'm the opposite.
Days when it rains are longer, more depressing, and I often feel like Bane from Batman--or possibly the Wicked Witch of the West. It's possible it could melt me if I get trapped outside in it.
Rain in my opinion is fine at night, while I'm sleeping, as long as all signs of it are gone by the first rays of light in the morning.
And, that seems to happen even less than the rain.
How do you feel about rain? What about snow? Are you a sun worshiper or do you rejoice in the moisture and change of rain?
R.S.
Today included.
Now, a lot of people love the rain and rejoice whenever it graces us with its wetness.
Me, I'm the opposite.
Days when it rains are longer, more depressing, and I often feel like Bane from Batman--or possibly the Wicked Witch of the West. It's possible it could melt me if I get trapped outside in it.
Rain in my opinion is fine at night, while I'm sleeping, as long as all signs of it are gone by the first rays of light in the morning.
And, that seems to happen even less than the rain.
How do you feel about rain? What about snow? Are you a sun worshiper or do you rejoice in the moisture and change of rain?
R.S.
March 4, 2013
On: The Sound of Silence
I've heard the phrase, 'the sound of silence' a few times (okay, a few hundred) in my life. Now, on the rare occasion when I wake up before the Munchkin, one of my first thoughts other than, 'I have to pee' and 'wow, she's still asleep, I must mark this on a calendar', is about how much I love the sound of silence. It's complete, it's beautiful, and it's a calm like nothing else I will experience all day.
Then my mind comes up with this.
If silence is silent, can it really be classified as a sound?
R.S.
March 1, 2013
On: Life in the Baby Making Lane
Things are a lot different this time around than they were when I was carrying the Munchkin. I don't have half as much time to lounge around and do nothing. I haven't decided if this is a blessing or a curse. Most likely it is both.
I'm starting to make lists for the Belly Munchkin's arrival. Whether I'll actually ever manage to check anything off those lists is yet to be seen. I have however, been able to squeeze some time in for weekly yoga. Not as much as I managed before I started carrying around an additional person, but at least it is still something. I've also recently started attending an prenatal aqua-fitness class designed specifically for my friend and I by the director and assistant director of the pool I worked at pre-pregnancy.
It's been nice getting back into the water, even if that meant finding a swimsuit to fit around my expanding middle. I guess, out here in the middle of the desert, near a military base where the number one past time seems to be procreating, they don't actually find it necessary to offer maternity anything. I guess they just expect those women who often times jump from pregnancy to pregnancy to walk around naked while they're gestating.
That's a thought for another day, I'm sure.
I've got the goal of producing two books this year, and I haven't really started working on anything at all, because I seem to only have the ability to power one brain at a time, and since growing a brain is very important, my thoughts have been jumbled and not wholly useful in the world of my writing career. I've been tossing around ideas, and some how I know everything will find a way of working out.
I would love to hear what is going on in my dear readers' lives.
R.S.
I'm starting to make lists for the Belly Munchkin's arrival. Whether I'll actually ever manage to check anything off those lists is yet to be seen. I have however, been able to squeeze some time in for weekly yoga. Not as much as I managed before I started carrying around an additional person, but at least it is still something. I've also recently started attending an prenatal aqua-fitness class designed specifically for my friend and I by the director and assistant director of the pool I worked at pre-pregnancy.
It's been nice getting back into the water, even if that meant finding a swimsuit to fit around my expanding middle. I guess, out here in the middle of the desert, near a military base where the number one past time seems to be procreating, they don't actually find it necessary to offer maternity anything. I guess they just expect those women who often times jump from pregnancy to pregnancy to walk around naked while they're gestating.
That's a thought for another day, I'm sure.
I've got the goal of producing two books this year, and I haven't really started working on anything at all, because I seem to only have the ability to power one brain at a time, and since growing a brain is very important, my thoughts have been jumbled and not wholly useful in the world of my writing career. I've been tossing around ideas, and some how I know everything will find a way of working out.
I would love to hear what is going on in my dear readers' lives.
R.S.
February 24, 2013
On: Moments of Growing
Today, the Munchkin got a little bit bigger, a little older. Yes, this happens each and every day, but today was different. Today she moved out of her toddler bed and into a big girl bed. A bright shiny bunk bed with full sized futon as the bottom bed.
She loves it.
The Marine and I realized we had to do this, not only because she is getting taller by the day, but because in a few months we'll be welcoming the newest member of our family. The Belly Munchkin, and he is going to need the toddler bed transformed back into a crib.
Each day brings changes and moments of growing. Not just for the children in our lives, but for us as well. Each day brings the birth of our son that much closer. While it's still several months away, those months will fly by. Taken up with daily life, school, crafts, and living. This pregnancy has already flown by in a way I wasn't prepared for.
Guess I better start preparing. :)
R.S.
She loves it.
The Marine and I realized we had to do this, not only because she is getting taller by the day, but because in a few months we'll be welcoming the newest member of our family. The Belly Munchkin, and he is going to need the toddler bed transformed back into a crib.
Each day brings changes and moments of growing. Not just for the children in our lives, but for us as well. Each day brings the birth of our son that much closer. While it's still several months away, those months will fly by. Taken up with daily life, school, crafts, and living. This pregnancy has already flown by in a way I wasn't prepared for.
Guess I better start preparing. :)
R.S.
February 14, 2013
On: Valentines Day
We don't really celebrate Valentine's Day in our house. Instead, we focus on showing love each and every day. We're not big into the heart shaped boxes of chocolate, or the bouquet of roses. We are into spending as much quality time together as we can.
Guess that explains my lack of writing recently.
So, what are your plans for today? Roses, chocolate, bottles of bubbly? I'd love to know.
R.S
Guess that explains my lack of writing recently.
So, what are your plans for today? Roses, chocolate, bottles of bubbly? I'd love to know.
R.S
February 10, 2013
On: My Anniversary
February 5th marked eight years since the Marine and I tied the knot. Of those eight years, we were together to celebrate our anniversary only twice. Including this year. Being married to a Marine makes for some lonely holidays, birthdays, and anniversaries, but you know what else it does? It makes you appreciate those rare moments you're actually together.
This year, the Marine and I went to a Japanese steakhouse (where I actually used chopsticks to eat the entire meal!) to celebrate the momentous occasion--you know having made it through eight years without blood shed--and had an amazing and wonderful time. Aside from the crazy traffic, and my uncanny ability to hit every red light between here and there. It was nice to spend time with my husband, without worrying about entertaining the Munchkin the entire time. I can also admit, it was the first time in forever I've gotten a chance to dress up. I even wore a pair of strappy heels.
Spending my anniversary with the father of my children was made all the more amazing by the kindness of strangers. We shared our table with an older couple who came to the U.S. before the Korean War. The gentleman served in the Royal Air Force, and then again served in our military as well. They had wonderful stories about their lives and their children. At the end of the meal, they did something we weren't expecting, and had nothing to do with our anniversary, but everything to do with the Marine's service to our country. They bought us dinner.
I'm not even ashamed to say I choked up.
It was a wonderful night, and I won't ever forget the kindness of strangers who shared a common bond. Military service and patriotism.
What is your favorite anniversary memory?
R.S.
This year, the Marine and I went to a Japanese steakhouse (where I actually used chopsticks to eat the entire meal!) to celebrate the momentous occasion--you know having made it through eight years without blood shed--and had an amazing and wonderful time. Aside from the crazy traffic, and my uncanny ability to hit every red light between here and there. It was nice to spend time with my husband, without worrying about entertaining the Munchkin the entire time. I can also admit, it was the first time in forever I've gotten a chance to dress up. I even wore a pair of strappy heels.
Spending my anniversary with the father of my children was made all the more amazing by the kindness of strangers. We shared our table with an older couple who came to the U.S. before the Korean War. The gentleman served in the Royal Air Force, and then again served in our military as well. They had wonderful stories about their lives and their children. At the end of the meal, they did something we weren't expecting, and had nothing to do with our anniversary, but everything to do with the Marine's service to our country. They bought us dinner.
I'm not even ashamed to say I choked up.
It was a wonderful night, and I won't ever forget the kindness of strangers who shared a common bond. Military service and patriotism.
What is your favorite anniversary memory?
R.S.
February 1, 2013
On: Reading
I'm usually an incredibly fast reader, but recently I haven't been able to concentrate long enough to actually start a book, let alone finish one. This is depressing to me.
I love reading, but my brain keeps bouncing from thought to thought. Maybe I need to find something new to read.
I enjoy romantic suspense and murder. Any suggestions on awesome books to read?
R.S.
