Delectably Dawn Circa 2013
This entertaining blog was live for at least several years.
Content is from the site's 2013 archived pages.
An aside: I loved Delectable Dawn's blog posts. Her straight shooting comments about just about everything resonated with where I was. It was truly sad when her site disappeared. Image my delight when I discovered the domain was for sale. I bought it and have used the site's archived content to recreate some of her posts. Nostalgic? Sure, but they are still entertaining. I wish she had done a post or two on wigs. I never thought I would buy one, but after starting chemotherapy I realized my naturally thick hair was not going to make it. I decided to look into wigs. Quite honestly, it's been overwhelming with the number of online wig stores touting their products, the admonishments about online wig scams. I don't live near a regular store that sells decent wigs and I've been told that the online stores have better pricing anyway. Delectable Dawn where are you when I need your take on buying wigs? And then I found a wonderful online wig store my aunt told me about at Thanksgiving. Great customer service, she said. The absolute best. So I made the call and learned all about wigs from Michael at Elegant Wigs. I finally ended up purchasing two lovely heat friendly Raquel Welch wigs that were within my budget. That term "heat friendly" was a learning curve since different wig brands have different terms (heat friendly / heat defiant / heat resistant) for synthetic fibers that can be styled with thermal styling tools - curling iron, rollers, blow dryer or flat iron. I know Delectable Dawn could have created a great blog post, hilarious and enlightening. Oh well. Do enjoy her old posts from 2013.
I’m sure you’re asking, “who is this chick?” and “what makes Dawn, delectable?”. Well…
I’m a coffee drinking, craft making, dinner cooking, soul searching, fun loving mama of 3 and a housewife! I’m way too nice for my own good, and I have an obsession with owls, coffee and Jason Stathom. But hey, who doesn’t!?
I birthed 3 children between 2007 and 2013. My oldest is a pretty little princess who is 6 going on 16, and obviously knows EVERYTHING. My second born is a rambunctious, little dare devil who looks so much like her daddy people often called her a boy up until this past year, when she turned 2 years old. My youngest is the heart breaker and already spoiled to the hilt. His big sisters currently worship the ground his chunky little legs kick around on. They drive me batty, and fill my life with meaning and more gray hairs, than I ever thought would be possible, before the age of thirty.
I’ve been married for 6 years to a man who happens to now be an Active Duty soldier. Our marriage has been filled with trials and tribulations that have no way of outweighing our stubborness to hold up to our vows “for better or for worse.” The military plays an interesting roll, with new stresses as well as a unique and amazing lifestyle I am more than grateful for living.
In a nutshell, I’m a mom-blogger, who tells her story for you all to read.
Pen Paper Pad, the Delectable Coffee Date
Good Morning! I have a treat for you today! Tamara Woods, the writer behind Pen Paper Pad, has not only sponsored all of us here at Delectably Dawn, TWICE, but she has decided to join us for a little coffee date! So, grab a mug and sit a spell! Let’s hear a little more about Mrs. Tamara Woods!
Do you enjoy coffee as much as I do?
I love coffee! I have a french press at home. I had to search all over the island to find one.
That’s so awesome! I wish I had a super cool french press in MY kitchen!
Tell us a little secret, okay not necessarily a secret but maybe something people aren’t aware of or over look about you.
I seem very outgoing, but I’m actually quite shy.
The strong silent types make the best writers! I’m timid when meeting new people, but once I’ve spoken to you a few times, it’s ON. You will get the full Dawn effect!
What are your favorite topics to write about?
I like giving tips about social media and writing on my blog. When it comes to my poetry, I write about grittier issues like abortion, losing a parent and social constructs of minorities. I also enjoy writing dystopian fiction.
I like giving social media tips too! I leave the writing tips to the experts, like yourself!
I find that poetry is a great outlet for talking about the things people don’t like to talk about.
Can you share a link and a teaser of your all time favorite post with us?
Actually my favorite post that I’ve written to date is on my BlogHer blog: This is not the dream you are looking for.
Well written article you have there! The view point is well laid out. (For you awesome people reading my response here, CLICK THE LINK! and read what it’s all about)
Where do you hope to be in 5 years?
I have no idea. Just happy and still writing.
You surely seem to headed that way!
Since we know from your featured post Delectably HER! Pen Paper Pad, that you write poetry and love to do so, can you share one of your recent poems with us? Or a line or two and a link?
Bubby’s First Bottle
This past Sunday, Bubby was given his first bottle. The Mister held Bubby close, looked in his eyes and stuck the bottle right in his mouth.
Bubby took to it like a fish to water. Drained the 2 ounce bottle in about 5 minutes, belched like a man when he was done, and was alert, content and none the wiser to momentous occasion.
The Mister was elated. I could see the sparkle in his eye. He had a smile on his lips the entire time. The love for his son was and is so overpowering you can feel it just walking by the two of them.
Me? I’m so glad you asked…
I WAS A COMPLETE WRECK. I cried the very second the bottle touched his lips and he began to drink. The Mister asked me what was wrong, I laughed and told him I had not a clue. And truly, I couldn’t form the words to tell him how I was feeling. Now, I have the words.
I was sad. I was overjoyed. I was angry. I was relieved. I was grateful. I. was. terrified. A million different thoughts went through my mind all at once. “What does this mean?”, “Will he get nipple confusion?”, “What if he doesn’t want the boob anymore?”, “The Mister, he looks so happy, I’m happy for him!”, “Will I get to take more time for myself now?”, “Could there possibly be anymore love oozing from the two of them!?”…and so on.
I’m pleased to announce that Bubby has no nipple confusion, he requires the boob to sleep, my milk supply is MUCH HIGHER now, and The Mister doesn’t feel quite so left out.
While I still feel torn between relief and terror, when it comes to Bubby having a bottle. I couldn’t be happier that The Mister now has the opportunity to cuddle with our son while he eats. And we all know how much that time means to us all. Everyone loves to feed little babies.
Confession Time: Why I’m Nervous About My Trip ‘Home’
That’s it, right up there for you all to see. I’m nervous about going home because I’m ashamed. I’m ashamed that I gained 80lbs in 9 months during my pregnancy. I’m ashamed that I still have 60lbs to lose to get back to my pre pregnancy weight. I’m ashamed that after working so hard and getting to where I wanted to be during the year before I got pregnant, I allowed myself to go right back to a number on the scale I never wanted to see again. SHAME. ON. ME.
It’s not only the number on the scale though. It’s my pant size, my fitness level, and the amount of energy I don’t have, that is weighing me down. I’m losing sleep over this. I’m shedding those silent tears while everyone else is asleep, because I’ve yet again, sabotaged my own happiness and health. And FOR WHAT? Bacon? Ice Cream? Deep Fried potatoes? …and pure laziness.
A little background:
I’ve struggled with my weight since puberty. In high school I went up to nearly 300lbs. I lost it all during my junior and senior year, but I lost it by not eating properly. I was in no way eating what I should or as often as I should have. I went from nearly 300lbs to about 120lbs in less than 18 months.
After that, every pregnancy I gained weight during the pregnancy and lost it in the years in between. After Spunk, I lost the weight, started eating healthy, and had a good workout routine going and had finally been at a place I was happy with myself. But once I hit the halfway mark with Bubby’s pregnancy, I lost all will to even TRY.
Where I’m at Today:
After giving birth to Bubby, in midst of the joy and elation of having a beautiful newborn son, I started questioning why I should even bother trying to get back in shape. It seems that no matter what I’ve done in the past, I always end up sabotaging myself sooner or later. I talked a lot of game. Kept saying all of the things I was going to do, but, I never did them. In 5 weeks after my son was born…I’ve done NOTHING other than go shopping for running shoes, which I STILL haven’t bought.
And then, a friend of mine started a new facebook page. It has EXPLODED in the week and a half it has been open. Mama’s Got Diet Issues and their admin have inspired me to get back on track. To be accountable for myself, my body, my attitude.
This past Sunday I started a few more 30 day challenges. But they’re all workouts! The Mister is doing them with me (except he’s had to make them harder for himself so they benefit him.) and he is keeping me accountable, while I do the same for him. I’m currently on day 4. Tonight I have to do 60 squats that I’m totally dreading, but insanely excited for at the same time. I’m setting my long-term goals, and dammit, I’m gonna reach them!
If you too, would like support in staying or getting fit and healthy, you can follow Mama’s Got Diet Issues, by clicking the name. I highly recommend it!
My First Step in Realizing my Dream
In light of yesterday’s goal setting post, I figured I’d tell you about a dream of mine. (and add a little shameless sales pitching in as well.) There are many of us bloggers who’s biggest dream is to own our own business. I’m no different. For years, I’ve pined over running my own business, whether it be from my home or at a store front. Preferably, it will be both, one day.
My husband and I want to, one day, open a store front that sells upcycled, and refinished furniture. All done by us, of course. We both love to work with our hands and create things. He has the technical capabilities while I have the more creative streak. In other words, I come up with an idea and he figures out how to execute it. (not to say that he doesn’t come up with amazing ideas. See our refinish of our dining room table for proof of that.) But, with him in the Army, and me staying at home and raising our children, for now, it is a dream that is unattainable any time soon.
Now, just because it’s a dream, a goal for the distant future, doesn’t mean that we just stop there. OH NO! We still create things. One of my hobbies is jewelry making. I taught myself how to wire wrap, bead and am working on metal stamping! Back in May I designed a key chain and earrings. Both of which I am incredibly proud of! I created 3 of each and I’m putting them up for sale, right here, on my blog.
If you are interested, you can e-mail me at delectablydawn[at]gmail[dot]com with inquiries. If you wish to purchase either, please include your PayPal address and I will send you an invoice. Here are the specs and pictures:
Earrings: $12.00 + $3.00 S&H Only 3 pair available!
A 1 inch natural brass chain on gunmetal ear hooks
3 emerald colored glass Picasso bead
and 4 light pink pearl-colored resin beads
connected with hand wrapped gunmetal wire post
Key chain: $7.50 + $3.00 S&H Only 3 available!
A 1.5 inch natural brass chain on a 24mm split ring.
1 inch nautral brass owl pendant
with emerald colored glass Picasso bead
connected with hand wrapped natural brass wire.
*All items will be shipped once payment is received.
*I currently ONLY accept PayPal and you MUST email me at delectablydawn[at]gmail[dot]com first.
*Regretfully I do not offer refunds, however I will repair or replace (with same item or item of equal value) in the first 21 days after item is shipped.
I must be emailed within 21 days after item was shipped noting an issue with your item.
A stamped and addressed envelope will then be sent your home.
Item must be shipped back to me for repair or replacement.
I will ship item back to you free of charge.
A Tale From an Exclusively Breast Feeding Mom
I knew I wanted to breast feed my son. It wasn’t even a question of if I would, it was a question of how long I could. I didn’t get a chance to with my Bug, and I was only able to produce for 3 weeks with Spunk. So, there was a lot of doubt in both my husband’s mind, and my own.
Doubt. It’s a terrible, soul decaying emotion. It causes tension, stress, in both the mind and body. I was able to put my doubt away and push forward saying: “I will try to get through this.” No matter what the outcome may be, I am going to put my best foot forward and give this whole breast feeding thing the good ol’ college try. And it all started off really well. It is still going really well. Except for one little thing: OTHER PEOPLE.
The strangers with disapproving looks and all those stares.
The friends who won’t be in the same room while I feed.
The family who question: “Are you going to ever give him a bottle?”
The family who say: “He’s eating ALL the time, you’re not producing enough, give him formula.”
Most of them are not at all meaning to effect me negatively. My friends and family are asking questions and making suggestions out of love and concern for both me and Bubby. It still pisses me off, but they love me, and that’s all they mean to give. Typically I try to take it all with a grain of salt, remind myself that it is all out of love and to move on. But you guys know how people say “You always hurt the one’s you love.” This became particularly true for me and The Mister, in this situation. Neither of us meaning to harm the other in the way we did, but it happened.
The Mister asked on a few occasions, if I wanted to him to give Bubby a bottle. On a few other occasions he suggested I wasn’t producing enough, even after the pediatrician guffawed at how much he has grown. I got mad.
I snapped, just enough to let him know I was upset, but not enough to make him want to put on Kevlar.
“WHY, do you insist I need to give up!?” is what I asked in a high pitched squeal.
“I’m not! You just seem so tired.” was his reply.
It wasn’t discussed again.
This past week I decided to break out this incredibly crappy pump that I have, because my boobs were so incredibly full of milk. (if you have ever given birth, you know how much that hurts!) I’ve been shocked by how much milk I’ve been able to produce with this pump. I had only planned on breast feeding for about 4-6 months, but with the amount of milk I am able to pump I opened the discussion up to go a full year of breast feeding. I told The Mister I would like to try and exclusively pump after 6 months. I also said that I was open to introducing Bubs to the bottle soon, because we are getting ready to travel from Kansas to the east coast in July. It would be easier if we could occasionally give him a bottle during our vacation. I asked The Mister: “Are you excited to feed your son for the first time?” and he replied “Of course! I love feeding little babies.”
That’s when it hit me, like a knife to the heart. That’s when I felt like a complete ass. While the strangers, friends and other family members were suggesting that I switch to formula, or at least a bottle out of concern for me and Bubby, The Mister had an added concern that I didn’t recognize at first, and was more personal for him.
He feels left out.
My dear, loving, kind-hearted man wants to feel as close to our son as I do when I’m feeding him. He wants to be able to hold him more often, to be a security blanket, a comfort, to our son, just like I am. The Mister doesn’t want to HAVE to hand over Bubby to me, every time he cries out for a meal. He wants to help, he wants to be present, he wants to be MORE for his son and for me. THAT my friends, is why I love this man more with each passing day.
I realized through this that I am one hell of a lucky woman. I have a wonderful husband who wants so badly to be more for his son. I realized that sometimes it’s not all about me and my feelings. That others have feelings too. If I had sat down and discussed this with my husband before automatically assuming he was suggesting that I just give up. I may have been able to realize that he was feeling left out, and I could have helped him feel more involved, before now.
While I love the time I get with my son while breast feeding, I look forward to seeing The Mister get to have the same, precious time, with our little Bubby.
You’ll have to forgive this post, it’s kinda gross. But I just HAD to make this complaint public.
Babies better be glad they’re so cute. Seriously, what other age group can look deep into your eyes, make you swoon and just as you’re going gaga over their sweet little faces, they take a massive crap in their pants, and you KEEP ON SMILING AT THEM!?
The Mister has proclaimed that 2013 is the year of The Great Poop. You see a few months back The Mister, Bug and Spunk all got this incredibly horrible stomach bug that left my house smelling like poop for weeks. No matter how much we bleached and cleaned. Spunk had one particularly bad night that has scarred that poor child for life. Let’s just say that my 2 year old now has a gag reflex when it comes to the smell of dirty diapers.
We had thought that the horrendous poop episode was over…but then little Bubby came into the world and declared that he was going to become part of this family in his own disgusting and smelly way. I thought the biggest worry about boys was them peeing on you. If that’s true, then my kid is not in the norm. This child has only peed on The Mister and myself MAYBE 3 times, in the past month he’s been in this world. However he shoots crap out of his butt at us like he’s lit with rocket fuel, at least 3 times A WEEK.
Like I said before…Babies better be glad they are so daggon adorable! But hey, poop happens…right?
My PrePaid Lifestyle
Have you ever struggled with paying your bills on time? Or do you feel like you may end up selling your first born just to be able to watch The Walking Dead? The Mister and I sure did. We’ve struggled for a long time on having all of these “things” until there came a point that we had to choose between these “things” and putting food on the table. So we made a switch. We decided to live a prepaid life, and trust me, it was not a light decision.
Our first move, was switching our cell phones to a prepaid service. This was the easiest move. Most prepaid cellular service providers offer great phone choices as well as easy payment plans. We paid about $200, one time, to purchase the phones and now only pay less than $95 a month for two phones with great service to include mobile web access and the use of Apps. For 4 years now we’ve used this service and haven’t once regretted the decision.
At the time we switched our cell phone service, we lived in an apartment complex that provided both cable and internet for only $50 a month so we didn’t have a need to switch that. Of course The Mister is active duty Army so when we moved to another state, we lost that great deal. Our options for cable and internet are extremely limited here. The cheapest for both would be nearly $200 a month and we were just not willing to pay that much!
At first, we opted to have neither in our home. That’s right, from November 2012 until March 2013 we had no cable and no internet. IT WAS AWESOME. We got our “screen time” fix with movies and tv series that we had on DVD. We have hundreds so we were never bored with what we have. We played outside more, we ate dinners together more, we did more arts and crafts, we played more board games and we relished in our family time, and we still do.
However, it became apparent that we could not be without internet any longer when my daughter’s school started requesting a few tasks to be done online, and I needed some kind of internet at home for when I gave birth to my son. (Going to the library, or local hotspots is difficult with a newborn) So I started shopping and decided on a prepaid internet plan. We paid only $95 for my router (one time) and I can take it with me anywhere I go, so long as there is cell phone service, I can obtain internet service. We only pay $35 a month for internet.
Now, allow me to recap the numbers for you. We pay $95 a month for cell phone service, $35 a month for internet.
$95+$35 = $130
Where if we used “mainstream” providers we would be paying twice that much.
I’m not going to sit here and tell you not to have cable and internet. I’m not going to tell you that prepaid internet is AWESOME and just like broadband, because it is not. But what I will tell you is not only have we discovered how to save money in our household, but we’ve also learned how to spend more time together as a family. So if you’re struggling to pay all the bills, or want to save some extra money for that awesome family vacation, maybe a prepaid life is something you could consider.
It All Went Wrong, but Ended so Right
Did you know that things go WRONG during labor? Did you know that no matter what your birth plan is, there is a possibility that some, if not ALL of that plan can go out the window?
This happened to me. And it seems that no matter how many people told me, the fact that I had given birth twice before this, I still did not comprehend that things could go wrong. I was prepared to have a c-section, should the need arise, I was prepared for my placenta to retain again (like it had when I delivered Spunk), I was prepared for the need to use forceps, the dreaded vacuum, episiotomies, etc. I was prepared for all of that! But I was STILL not prepared for the events that took place between 6am on May 25th until 2:22am May 26th.
I will go ahead and get the clichés out of the way: Everything that happened in those hours was totally worth it. This kid, the one pictured right below, he was 100% worth it.
Here was my birth plan:
1.) Go into labor on my own
2.) Get an epidural as soon as the doctor OK’s it, so I can rest, and then blissfully give birth
3.) No IV pain medication
4.) Hold my baby as soon as he is born
5.) Feed him within the first hour
Only one of those things happened for me the way I had planned it.
Here is what went wrong:
1.) I had to be induced. And due to a discrepancy in finger size, and what my family and I believe to be a doctor who just didn’t want to deal with inducing me on a Saturday, I had to sit around for 15 hours while I had Cervadil INCORRECTLY placed.
2.) The doctor who finally induced me (at 9pm) and my nurse didn’t believe that I would give birth as quickly as my husband, my mother and myself told them I would. (Thanks to the doctor who incorrectly placed cervadil and also swore I walked in not dilated AT ALL) So the doctor refused to give me an epidural when I asked for it. I was in so much pain from the pitocin, that they convinced me to use IV drugs around 11pm so I could rest. I was at 4cm.
3.) When I woke up 2 hours later at 1am, even though I had only progressed to 5cm, I finally convinced them to get me an epidural. This was futile. Because while I was being poked SEVERAL times in the spine, AND telling the anesthesiologist he was in the wrong spot, I started to feel the urge to push. It was 1:45am. No one believed me.
4.) I convinced a reluctant nurse to check me again. The epidural was NOT working AT all. My amniotic sac was bulging and I was 8-9cm. I then started to scream. Not out of pain. I was screaming because I was having a full blown panic attack. I’m still completely humiliated by this.
5.) The nurse calls the doctor in to break my water. As she reaches the door, my water breaks on its own. It is about 2:15am. There is merconium in the waters. My son was now in danger of aspirating the merconium and becoming deathly ill. All I could do was scream.
6.) The doctor comes running in, and before the doctor can even get gloves on, my son’s head pops out, then he comes out. That’s right, you read that correctly. My son was born into the hands of a doctor who was not wearing gloves because he came so quickly. And because no one listened when we told them it would happen fast.
7.) I did not get to hold my son as soon as he was born. My husband did not get to cut his cord like he had with our daughters. He had to be checked immediately by the pediatrician. LUCKILY, he was perfectly fine.
The only thing to go “right” was that I got to feed him within his first hour of life.
This was traumatic for me. I was completely unprepared for natural child birth. I was completely unprepared to not be able to be the first person to hold my child. I was completely unprepared for EVERY SINGLE THING in my birth plan to fall through.
I wrote this, in hopes that a pregnant woman would read this and say “hey, that could happen to me!” to get that pregnant woman to think about what she would do if her birth plan fell through completely.
Oh yeah, that epidural? It kicked in 30 minutes after he was born. Only one leg was numb from the hip down. Even if it had time, I still would have felt it all.
Antepartum Depression: My Final Update before Bubby’s Debut
Picture source: Health Votes: 10 Tips To Overcome Depression
Nearly a month and a half has gone by since I first posted about my Antepartum Depression. I went through I very painful roller coaster ride that has now left me with a better understanding of who I am as a person.
The darkness is inside us all. We all have those spaces in between the light that can swallow us whole. Occasionally, we get lost in those spaces for far too long. With the Antepartum Depression that I experienced over the course of this pregnancy, I was terrified that I would look back and see nothing but pain, anguish and listless sorrow during a time that should be one of the most joyful moments in a woman’s life. I feared my daughters, especially Bug, would remember moments of mommy losing her mind and crying and then in turn feeling lost and confused herself. I feared my husband looking back on the 9 months of his only son growing inside of me and pushing away that memory because of all the pain he saw me suffering with.
Today, I look back and thankfully, for me, I see the good moments. I see that I took a wild haired notion and started a blog at 7 months pregnant. I see that my family supported me through one of the strongest battles they’ve seen me fight with depression. I see love, compassion, and joy. No fear. No terror. No hatred.
I realize that I went through something traumatic, and that some of the memories of the time I spent depressed are not pleasant. But I also have come to terms with it. It happened, it happened to me, and it is now over. I may experience it yet again in the throws of exhaustion of raising yet another newborn baby. However, I KNOW I can get through it. I KNOW there is help for me. I KNOW that my family, and my friends will support me as I fight any and all battles that I need to fight!
I’m now anxiously awaiting for my son to come to this world. My anxiety is through the roof! I’m actually terrified, unlike how I felt when I had Bug and Spunk. I want to stop you right there though, don’t think of this negatively. I want you to see that I am acknowledging the negative feelings that I have and not stuffing them down deeper where they’ll rattle my foundation. As one of my favorite bloggers says: “I want to feel ALL the feelings.” Because these feelings let me know I’m ALIVE. They let me know that life is ever changing and they keep me grounded. They keep me humble.
***Thank you all for reading. and remember if you or someone you know is suffering with depression of ANY kind, there IS help available to you. You are also more than welcome to shoot me an email at firstname.lastname@example.org***
Little Body with a Big Brave Spirit
I want to tell you a little bit about my amazing Bug, who is 5 years old. She’s had it pretty tough the last two years. We’ve moved several times, her daddy deployed, she went from being an only child to a big sister (soon to be TWICE), started Kindergarten, had to change schools, and some other things have happened, that out of respect for her and the woman she will eventually grow to be, I won’t put in here. Just I want you to understand that she has gone through more in her short five (almost 6) years than most adults do.
If you were to meet her, you’d never know. She seems like a pretty normal, very friendly, very loud, very curious little girl. Her strength has always astounded me. Her ability to walk into many situations without fear, have kept me proud. Even though she was raised by me, at home, with only a few weeks of daycare out of her life, she was so ready to start school. When I shed tears leaving her in the classroom for the first time, she was already making her very first friend of the year and yelling “BYE MOMMY!” When we moved, right before Christmas, she was nervous and said so, about going to a new school. She was NOT nervous about making new friends…just the school! HAHA. She makes friends where ever she goes, she’s such an inspiration to me.
Now, I’ve told you that to show you that my little girl doesn’t have much fear, and if she does have some anxiety about things, she rarely shows it. But the ONE thing that I know scares her to death is pain. Particularly pain from getting shots. So when her doctor told me that she would have to have some lab work done last week, I knew we were in for a rough 10 minutes to get it all done. I was SO sure that I would need someone to hold Bug down, someone to hold Spunk down (she’s very protective of her big sister), and someone to keep me from letting my hormones take over and turn me into a big puddle of wailing mommy as it all went down, that I postponed the lab work for a day so The Mister could take a long lunch break and be there to help.
I explained to Bug what was going to happen. I told her it was no big deal, that it won’t hurt AS MUCH as a shot, but it will hurt a little. I also told her that the more still she could sit, the faster and easier it would be. She was still terrified, but we saddled up and went on in. I decided that I would go in the room with her and The Mister would sit with Spunk in the waiting room. We talked with the phlebotomist and explained that this was Bug’s first time having blood drawn. That she was scared and all of that good stuff. We went over everything that was going to happen and we all got into position to get this done.
My poor Bug was terrified, HORRIFIED! She actually had tears in her eyes as she sat in the chair and I held the arm that was about to be stuck with a needle. I started to tear up too. I told her she didn’t have to watch if she didn’t want to, but she said she “had to” so we all took a deep breath in and…
“Ouch that hurts!” she said as she got stuck. “That’s it!” said the phlebotomist, “now we just take some of your blood with these viles, and you’re done!” Bug watched the ENTIRE time. I was smiling ear to ear because she did not struggle, she did not cry, she barely flinched. “That wasn’t so bad” she said after.
When we walked back to the waiting room I was beaming with pride. Not because my little girl went in and had blood taken and we didn’t have to fight her. But because she went in scared out of her frickin mind, but still sat in that chair, held her head high, and got the job done that needed to be done. In my mind, this is the true definition of bravery.
It may not seem like much to an adult, but for our little ones, this stuff is super scary. Anything that can bring pain, unfamiliarity, discomfort, etc. It’s all very unpleasant to our babes, and when they walk in to a room not really knowing or understanding what is going on, but they summon the courage to do what they think needs to be done anyway…its an inspiration. It makes me proud to say that my daughter’s first blood draw, she took it like a CHAMP and walked out of there more proud of herself than I’ve seen in a long time.
Sometimes, we need to acknowledge the small victories. We need to understand the amount of bravery it takes for such a tiny body to take on such a big task. Especially since their ability to understand it fully is impaired by their still developing minds. Give your kids a little credit for showing courage in the face of what scares THEM. It’ll keep them going, they’ll continue to push themselves to do things they think they “can’t” do.
Update: Antepartum Depression-Nearing the LIFE at the End of the Tunnel
Could it be? COULD IT REALLY, REALLY BE? …
I’ve had a GREAT week. Despite the fact that two days this week I was so tired, so down, so physically ill that I could do nothing, things have actually turned around. What’s changed so drastically this past week you ask? Well, I’ll tell ya: (this is a long one, so bare with me here…)
First of all, last Thursday I got a call from a midwife at my OBGYN clinic. She informed me that my glucose screening (you know that thing where you drink that super sugary drink and sit in a waiting room for an hour and then they draw your blood…yeah, that shit.) it came back 18 points above the “comfort” level.
This is when I had an “AH, HA!” moment. I remembered articles that I had read that discuss how our diet can actually alter our brain chemistry; it can make us FEEL differently. Could THIS be why I’m having such a hard time dealing with my life? Do I have Gestational Diabetes? Have my “cravings” been killing me? Even without the diagnosis just yet, I immediately changed my diet over to a lower starch, less sugar, more balanced meals. I started to feel a little better a couple of days later before I had to go in for a THREE HOUR test. Which I didn’t find out until later was actually a FOUR hour test.
So on Monday I walk in to the lab with a book, my phone, and a journal. They test my blood to make sure that I’m safe to take the high dose of glucose after fasting for 12 hours. I had to wait an hour and a half for that to come back. Then I drank an even nastier, even sweeter version of the stuff they give you at the one hour screening. I waited another three hours after that, having my blood drawn every hour.
On the last blood draw The Mister came to pick me up. (We only have one vehicle and he had gotten off work to take care of Spunk while I was at the doctor all day long.) They took the fourth and final blood draw and I was incredibly happy to FINALLY be getting the heck outta that place!
I get to our car and before I can get Spunk out of her stroller or even sit down in the passenger seat I was ready to pass out. At 32 weeks pregnant, I had gone more than 18 hours without putting anything other than water and straight glucose in my body. I was sick. The Mister had brought me a sandwich…I ate it. 30 minutes later I was doing everything I could to keep my eyes open and not spew what little bit I had on my stomach all over the floor boards as we picked up Bug from school. The Mister basically said “SCREW Gestational Diabetes…you need sugar, NOW” He fed me until I couldn’t eat anymore. Taking small bites of whatever he could hand me, downing a sweet tea and doing my best to stay awake and not lose what I had on my stomach.
It took two hours, a ham and cheese sandwich, an ice cream bar, and a piece of pizza to have me feeling anything like normal.
The next morning I woke up feeling JUST as bad as I had the day before. Except this time, I COULDN’T eat anything. I was having contractions and was just flat out miserable. We rushed to Labor and Delivery after speaking with a nurse on the phone and found out this:
1.) Somehow after drinking glasses after glasses of water…I was dehydrated.
2.) Remember that whole glucose test? Yeah well I do NOT have Gestational Diabetes. (YAY!)
3.) That last blood draw said my blood sugar was almost HOSPITALIZATION low. (Whoa…what?)
4.) My blood sugar was still not maintaining itself nearly 24 hours later.
So…I put all of that in there to tell you…my body is kinda messed up. I may not have Gestational Diabetes, but I do have a problem with processing the sugars in my body. There is some kind of imbalance SOMEWHERE in there. And because I’ve changed my diet to a healthier version, gotten out of my house more, and FORCED myself to clean up SOMETHING everyday…I’m doing better. And I think that’s what is helping. I think that is why I’m doing okay, actually, I’m doing pretty damn awesome.
Now, does this mean I won’t have any more down moments, day or even weeks? Hell no, what it does mean though is I have a firm hold on the neck of my opponent, and that bitch will not win!