Today was te worst day I've had in months. It started out OK...took Camryn back to the doctor for a follow up on her spider bite. Went to the grocery store and got her another prescription. Came home, fed the kids, put Dylan down for a nap.
But it went downhill from there. At 4:00 I turned on a movie for the kids and I felt truly exhausted. So I laid down and took a very short nap with Courtlyn. I was repeatedly disturbed by the kids fighting though, and by Camryn telling me I was lazy. Eventually the kids were fighting so bad that I had no choice but to get up and I lost it....screaming at everyone, and Dylan ending up getting spanked. Then I sat in the bed to feed Courtlyn and cried because I knew that yes, they were fighting, but they didn't deserve me to react the way I did. I just sat there in a daze for a while thinking about Joe. And how much I wish he would walk through the door, and give me something to look forward to. I got up and fed the kids leftover pizza for dinner and put them in the bath. At that point I had another meltdown when Dylan purposely poured a bowl of water onto the bathroom floor. By this point Courtlyn was screaming...I'm sure it was brought about by my yelling and Dylan's crying. So after their bath I sat in the rocking chair trying to console her. Camryn took control of the situation as usual and got Dylan to help her clean the whole house. She put away every toy and even cleaned up the kitchen counters, while I sat in the chair crying with Courtlyn. At bedtime I let them both get in my bed and I laid with them for a while and told them how sorry I was fo rhaving such a bad day. I told them I was just really missing daddy and that I would try to do better tomorrow.
I really haven't had any moments like this since Courtlyn was born. But I think its only because I've been so busy that I hardly have time to think. But today was apparently my breaking point.
I'm just so pissed off at the world right now. I'm angry that Joe's gone, I'm angry at the guy who killed him, I'm angry that I didn't have more time with him, I'm angry that my kids are slowly forgetting him, I'm angry at Joe for leaving me in this situation, and I'm angry at the rest of the world for going on with their lives, while mine is stuck right here without him.
Everyday is exactly the same. Every hour is the same. Every minute is the same. I have nothing to break up the monotony of my day. Nothing to look forward to. Nothing. I chase after these 3 kids 24 hours a day. Joe has been gone for 279 days. I have at LEAST 6,570 days left of taking care of kids, by myself. No one to vent to after the kids have gone to bed, no one to share my concerns with, no one to sit and laugh with, no one to pass the kids off to if I want to take a 5 minute break. No one. Sure, I could call a friend or family. But its not the same. Its not Joe.
Friday, October 16, 2009
August 1, 2007
Dylan has a black eye. Its his second one. His first one was when he was 14 months old and ran across the room, straight into a table, knocking it over onto himself. This time I was in the recliner feeding Courtlyn and he decided he needed in my lap too. Not a problem. Except he thought he also needed to bring 2 books and his juice along with him. So as he tried to climb up he was wobbling on my knee and fell to the floor....hitting his eye on a ride-on fire truck.
Then this morning Camryn comes out with a red mark on her upper arm. She said it was a rash and I didn't really feel a bite, so I put some cortizone cream on it and never looked at it again. Well she just woke up in the middle of the night complaining that it hurt and when I looked at it I couldn't believe it. Its spread all over her arm and is warm to the touch. So I put more medicine on it, but I have a feeling that we'll be heading to the doctor tomorrow. It looks exactly like Dylan's leg did last year when he was bit by a spider.
So its going to be a full day for us. First we head to the dentist for Camryn's checkup. Then to the consinement to drop off all of Dylan's winter clothes from last year. Then probably to the doctor. And I promised the kids I'd take them to McDonalds to play in the PlayLand. They are super excited about that because we haven't been in about a year. The last time we went Dylan was about 18 months old and not supposed to be climbing in the slides. Somehow he managed to though. Next thing I know Camryn and another little girl come out saying that Dylan is in the very top and he stinks. I stood at the bottom calling his name and he wouldn't come down. He just looked down at me from the very highest window. After several minutes I started freaking out because there were some really big kids in there so I had to climb through those nasty tunnels to find him and slide out with him. I swore at that moment that we would not go back until he was old enough to get out by himself. I think he'll be OK this time, but we'll see. I know one thing for sure, I will NOT be climbing my fat ass up there to get him. I'll call the damn fire department before I go in those nasty things again. Hell, if they rescue cats from trees surely they'll rescue my son from the McDonalds slide.
Then this morning Camryn comes out with a red mark on her upper arm. She said it was a rash and I didn't really feel a bite, so I put some cortizone cream on it and never looked at it again. Well she just woke up in the middle of the night complaining that it hurt and when I looked at it I couldn't believe it. Its spread all over her arm and is warm to the touch. So I put more medicine on it, but I have a feeling that we'll be heading to the doctor tomorrow. It looks exactly like Dylan's leg did last year when he was bit by a spider.
So its going to be a full day for us. First we head to the dentist for Camryn's checkup. Then to the consinement to drop off all of Dylan's winter clothes from last year. Then probably to the doctor. And I promised the kids I'd take them to McDonalds to play in the PlayLand. They are super excited about that because we haven't been in about a year. The last time we went Dylan was about 18 months old and not supposed to be climbing in the slides. Somehow he managed to though. Next thing I know Camryn and another little girl come out saying that Dylan is in the very top and he stinks. I stood at the bottom calling his name and he wouldn't come down. He just looked down at me from the very highest window. After several minutes I started freaking out because there were some really big kids in there so I had to climb through those nasty tunnels to find him and slide out with him. I swore at that moment that we would not go back until he was old enough to get out by himself. I think he'll be OK this time, but we'll see. I know one thing for sure, I will NOT be climbing my fat ass up there to get him. I'll call the damn fire department before I go in those nasty things again. Hell, if they rescue cats from trees surely they'll rescue my son from the McDonalds slide.
July 31, 2007
This is the statement I sent to the city of Tyler, Texas. This is the statement that will be used in court when the ass that hit Joe finally has his trial....
On October 27, 2006 my husband left for work, just like any other day. I stayed home with our 4 year old and 22 month old children and anticipated the week ahead. I took the kids to the pumpkin patch so they could carve pumpkins with daddy the next day, and we had plans to attend our daughter's soccer awards program. The upcoming week would also involve the Halloween Fall Festival at church and all of us attending Disney on Ice. It was going to be a week full of activities we would do together as a family.
I talked to my husband several times while he was at work that day, making all the plans for the week. We also talked about the ultrasound we had the day before, revealing that our third child was due on June 4, 2007. I was eight weeks pregnant and we were thrilled.
This is just a snapshot of how are lives were. Our lives completely revolved around our family. We did everything together, and family was our main focus. A year earlier I had quit my teaching job to stay at home with the kids. And now that we were expecting our third child we were making plans to build a new house in a new school district. My husband had made all of this possible by working extremely hard at his business, which he had started only 15 months earlier.
In an instant all of this changed. At 7:45 pm, on October 27, I received a phone call telling me that my husband died in a car accident. I was told this as my two young children stood by my side. At that moment life as we knew it changed.
I will no longer be able to stay at home with my children, something that Joe and I felt to be very important in our children's live. I will now have to find a job and send my kids to daycare in order to support my children for the next twenty years. I realize that a lot of kids go to daycare and are just fine, but this was not our wish for our children. This was not our choice, this decision was forced upon me.
We will also not be moving into the house we dreamed of. Instead, I will stay where I am, in a three-bedroom house; or I will be forced to buy an even smaller, less expensive one.
We were a family that did everything together and now an integral part of our family is missing. My children are so young that they will probably not remember their dad for much longer. And the child that I'm carrying now will never even have the chance to meet him. They will never know what a great man their dad was, or how much he sacrificed for them.
They went from having a mom and dad who's life revolved around them, to being left alone with a mother who is depressed, alone, and can barely function well enough to take care of them. I can't even imagine how it will affect their lives. Everything Joe and I had envisioned for them is gone.
I am a thirty-two year old widow, and will be raising three children alone. It is a nightmare! It's been five months since Joe was killed, and I still haven't received any insurance money from Mr. McFadden. I am trying to support my family, pay off business debt, pay for legal fees, etc. all with the little amount I receive from social security.
My children and I are all in counseling. It gives us someone to talk to, but it doesn't make anything better. My four-year old daughter still lies in bed crying for her daddy every night. And my two-year old son still wanders through the house looking for him.
As for my own loss, I'm depressed, angry, confused, and lonely. But overall my main concern is for my children. I will never be able to make up for the tragic loss they've experienced. No matter what I do, life will never be the same for them. A negligent driver ripped their daddy from their lives, and I don't think any of us will ever fully recover.
On October 27, 2006 my husband left for work, just like any other day. I stayed home with our 4 year old and 22 month old children and anticipated the week ahead. I took the kids to the pumpkin patch so they could carve pumpkins with daddy the next day, and we had plans to attend our daughter's soccer awards program. The upcoming week would also involve the Halloween Fall Festival at church and all of us attending Disney on Ice. It was going to be a week full of activities we would do together as a family.
I talked to my husband several times while he was at work that day, making all the plans for the week. We also talked about the ultrasound we had the day before, revealing that our third child was due on June 4, 2007. I was eight weeks pregnant and we were thrilled.
This is just a snapshot of how are lives were. Our lives completely revolved around our family. We did everything together, and family was our main focus. A year earlier I had quit my teaching job to stay at home with the kids. And now that we were expecting our third child we were making plans to build a new house in a new school district. My husband had made all of this possible by working extremely hard at his business, which he had started only 15 months earlier.
In an instant all of this changed. At 7:45 pm, on October 27, I received a phone call telling me that my husband died in a car accident. I was told this as my two young children stood by my side. At that moment life as we knew it changed.
I will no longer be able to stay at home with my children, something that Joe and I felt to be very important in our children's live. I will now have to find a job and send my kids to daycare in order to support my children for the next twenty years. I realize that a lot of kids go to daycare and are just fine, but this was not our wish for our children. This was not our choice, this decision was forced upon me.
We will also not be moving into the house we dreamed of. Instead, I will stay where I am, in a three-bedroom house; or I will be forced to buy an even smaller, less expensive one.
We were a family that did everything together and now an integral part of our family is missing. My children are so young that they will probably not remember their dad for much longer. And the child that I'm carrying now will never even have the chance to meet him. They will never know what a great man their dad was, or how much he sacrificed for them.
They went from having a mom and dad who's life revolved around them, to being left alone with a mother who is depressed, alone, and can barely function well enough to take care of them. I can't even imagine how it will affect their lives. Everything Joe and I had envisioned for them is gone.
I am a thirty-two year old widow, and will be raising three children alone. It is a nightmare! It's been five months since Joe was killed, and I still haven't received any insurance money from Mr. McFadden. I am trying to support my family, pay off business debt, pay for legal fees, etc. all with the little amount I receive from social security.
My children and I are all in counseling. It gives us someone to talk to, but it doesn't make anything better. My four-year old daughter still lies in bed crying for her daddy every night. And my two-year old son still wanders through the house looking for him.
As for my own loss, I'm depressed, angry, confused, and lonely. But overall my main concern is for my children. I will never be able to make up for the tragic loss they've experienced. No matter what I do, life will never be the same for them. A negligent driver ripped their daddy from their lives, and I don't think any of us will ever fully recover.
July 30, 2007
"Dear God, Daddy love me. Jesus love me. Daddy love me. Amen."
How heartbreaking is that?
How heartbreaking is that?
July 29, 2007
my "To Do" list
~buy school shoes
~register Camryn for dance class
~iron clothes to take to consinement shop
~Camryn's dentist appointment
~return clothes and diapers to Target
~complete tax forms for the thousands of dollars Joe owed the IRS
~sell truck
~sell motorcycle
~find a new house
~sell this house
~get new glasses (mine broke 6 months ago)
~get prescriptions filled
~meet with insurance agent
~pay bills (on a budget of social security alone)
~feed baby every 3 hours
~grocery store
~make bottles
~give the kids a bath
~give baby a bath
~potty train Dylan
~shop for Camryn's birthday
~make birth announcements
~change at least 10 diapers a day
~provide my kids 3 meals a day
~laundry
~clean house
~get oil changed in car
~get inspection sticker
~stop what I'm doing to hold a child, toddler, or baby every time someone is hurt or upset (at least once an hour)
~get my hair cut (its been 8 months now)
~finish cleaning out Joe's closet
~finally break down and do something with his dirty laundry
~sell all his other trailers, equipment, and parts
These are just the things I can think of off the top of my head. And somewhere in there I have to fit in time for myself to eat and shower.
And my kids cry and tell me I never play with them anymore. I wonder why?
So basically I don't feel that I have anything in common with anyone. My life right now can not be compared to anyone else that I know. So its very hard to hear people talk about normal, everyday things in their lives, because God how I wish my life was normal again.
~buy school shoes
~register Camryn for dance class
~iron clothes to take to consinement shop
~Camryn's dentist appointment
~return clothes and diapers to Target
~complete tax forms for the thousands of dollars Joe owed the IRS
~sell truck
~sell motorcycle
~find a new house
~sell this house
~get new glasses (mine broke 6 months ago)
~get prescriptions filled
~meet with insurance agent
~pay bills (on a budget of social security alone)
~feed baby every 3 hours
~grocery store
~make bottles
~give the kids a bath
~give baby a bath
~potty train Dylan
~shop for Camryn's birthday
~make birth announcements
~change at least 10 diapers a day
~provide my kids 3 meals a day
~laundry
~clean house
~get oil changed in car
~get inspection sticker
~stop what I'm doing to hold a child, toddler, or baby every time someone is hurt or upset (at least once an hour)
~get my hair cut (its been 8 months now)
~finish cleaning out Joe's closet
~finally break down and do something with his dirty laundry
~sell all his other trailers, equipment, and parts
These are just the things I can think of off the top of my head. And somewhere in there I have to fit in time for myself to eat and shower.
And my kids cry and tell me I never play with them anymore. I wonder why?
So basically I don't feel that I have anything in common with anyone. My life right now can not be compared to anyone else that I know. So its very hard to hear people talk about normal, everyday things in their lives, because God how I wish my life was normal again.
July 28, 2007
I just finished feeding Courtlyn her 1am bottle and soaking up her baby smell. I don't remember my other two smelling so sweet. I guess when Camryn was this small I was such a nervous wreck that I didn't pay attention. And I swear Dylan never smelled like this....I think he was born already smelling like a boy. But Courtlyn better get used to me smelling the top of her head because I don't foresee stopping any time soon!
Not only is her scent addictive, but she is such a wonderful baby in every way. She hardly ever cries, she's perfectly happy just laying in the floor watching the ceiling fan, she doesn't need a pacifier (or her thumb), and to top it all off she already has the same adorable chubby cheeks that her brother and sister have.
"welcome, tiny angel, sent to bless us here on earth, we've felt the touch of heaven from the moment of your birth."
Not only is her scent addictive, but she is such a wonderful baby in every way. She hardly ever cries, she's perfectly happy just laying in the floor watching the ceiling fan, she doesn't need a pacifier (or her thumb), and to top it all off she already has the same adorable chubby cheeks that her brother and sister have.
"welcome, tiny angel, sent to bless us here on earth, we've felt the touch of heaven from the moment of your birth."
July 27, 2007
I honestly don't think I've gone to the bathroom by myself in 9 months. If I try to sneak away without the kids it doesn't take but a few seconds for them to come looking for me. And before I know it there's a party in the bathroom. And I've been wondering lately how long it will be before I can go to the bathroom with no kids serving as my audience. But today we hit an all time low when Dylan cheered "Yay Mommy! Great Job!"
July 24, 2007
The past month has been full of moments when I wished I could just close my eyes and disappear.....forever.
First was Father's Day. I purposely skipped church so that the kids wouldn't be slapped in the face that they don't have a dad. I didn't even tell them it was Father's Day. I let them stay outside all day and play in their little plastic pool. It kept us all preoccupied. But a few days later Camryn started crying because she didn't have anyone to buy a Father's Day present for (she didn't realize that the day had already come and gone) It makes me so sad for them. And its strange to me that everyone thought about Joe's dad on this day, but no one thought of us and what my kids and I must have felt. They will grow up and be reminded every year that they are the "kids with no dad"
Then a few weeks later was Joe's birthday. He would have been 36 on July 2. Again, I let it go without mentioning it to the kids. Camryn would have been upset, and I feel like there's no reason to cause her heart to break any more than it already has.
The day after his birthday Courtlyn was super fussy all day long. I was going crazy with all the crying, but I thought it was just typical baby stuff, like gas. At 7pm she woke up from a nap and was crying again, I picked her up and noticed she felt warm. As I was taking her temperature Dylan started saying he was tired and that his head hurt. So he went and laid in my bed. At almost the exact moment the thermometer registered that Courtlyn had a fever of 101.7, Dylan started puking in my bed! I called the pediatrician and was told to take Courtlyn to the ER. So I'm trying to get all our things together and Dylan is crawling through the house on his hands and knees, throwing up EVERYWHERE! Luckily Camryn felt OK...she tried to make Dylan feel better while I tended to the screaming baby. She thought of things to pack in the bag that I didn't even think of....like a towel for Dylan if he threw up in the car. She got herself dressed, fixed her hair, and got a book to read in the waiting room. She paced through the house telling herself "we have two emergencies here. " Then right before we left I was on the phone with my sister telling her what was happening, and Camryn ran in and told me "mom, there is NO time to waste, get off the phone and lets go" So I followed the orders of my 4 year old and we headed to the ER.
Dylan continued to throw up in the ER, but he had no fever. So Courtlyn was their top priority. Her fever got up to 102.8, and after hours of tessts they could find no source of infection. So at midnight they decided to do a spinal tap.....on my 6 week old baby! By that time Dylan felt better so they released him, and he and Camryn went home with my parents. They did the spinal tap and it came back positive for viral meningitis. All I could think is "you have got to kidding me! My husband died while I was pregnant, I almost lost my baby in delivery, and now she has meningitis???? What the hell else can I handle?" We were admitted to the hospital and stayed three days, with her hooked up to an IV. She recovered well though, and all the nurses were in love with her by the time we left.
Four days later would have been mine and Joe's 8th anniversay. That was 100 times worse than his birthday to me. We usually didn't do much for our birthdays, but anniversaries were big. It was the one time every year we knew we would get a babysitter. It didn't matter what else was going on, we did something special for our anniversary, even the years I was pregnant. Last year Joe to9ok me to the Faith Hill/Tim McGraw concert.....something he cared nothing about, but knew I would love. So to sit here alone with the kids on our anniversary was depressing to say the least. And just like Father's Day, I was alone in my misery....its not anything anyone else would ever think about.
I've been hearing a lot of the usual cliches lately...."God doesn't give us more than we can handle", "What doesn't kill us makes us stronger", etc. Well this is what I think about those statements......I CAN'T HANDLE ANYMORE! I reached my breaking point the night Joe died....the only reason I'm able to go on is because of my kids. And as far as becoming a stronger person....I think I was a strong person before all of this. In fact I was stronger because of Joe. I'm not any stronger today, than I was 10 months ago. I don't foresee my kids growing up thinking what a strong mother they had. I imagine them talking about how their mother went insane the day their dad died, and that its a miracle they all survived.
First was Father's Day. I purposely skipped church so that the kids wouldn't be slapped in the face that they don't have a dad. I didn't even tell them it was Father's Day. I let them stay outside all day and play in their little plastic pool. It kept us all preoccupied. But a few days later Camryn started crying because she didn't have anyone to buy a Father's Day present for (she didn't realize that the day had already come and gone) It makes me so sad for them. And its strange to me that everyone thought about Joe's dad on this day, but no one thought of us and what my kids and I must have felt. They will grow up and be reminded every year that they are the "kids with no dad"
Then a few weeks later was Joe's birthday. He would have been 36 on July 2. Again, I let it go without mentioning it to the kids. Camryn would have been upset, and I feel like there's no reason to cause her heart to break any more than it already has.
The day after his birthday Courtlyn was super fussy all day long. I was going crazy with all the crying, but I thought it was just typical baby stuff, like gas. At 7pm she woke up from a nap and was crying again, I picked her up and noticed she felt warm. As I was taking her temperature Dylan started saying he was tired and that his head hurt. So he went and laid in my bed. At almost the exact moment the thermometer registered that Courtlyn had a fever of 101.7, Dylan started puking in my bed! I called the pediatrician and was told to take Courtlyn to the ER. So I'm trying to get all our things together and Dylan is crawling through the house on his hands and knees, throwing up EVERYWHERE! Luckily Camryn felt OK...she tried to make Dylan feel better while I tended to the screaming baby. She thought of things to pack in the bag that I didn't even think of....like a towel for Dylan if he threw up in the car. She got herself dressed, fixed her hair, and got a book to read in the waiting room. She paced through the house telling herself "we have two emergencies here. " Then right before we left I was on the phone with my sister telling her what was happening, and Camryn ran in and told me "mom, there is NO time to waste, get off the phone and lets go" So I followed the orders of my 4 year old and we headed to the ER.
Dylan continued to throw up in the ER, but he had no fever. So Courtlyn was their top priority. Her fever got up to 102.8, and after hours of tessts they could find no source of infection. So at midnight they decided to do a spinal tap.....on my 6 week old baby! By that time Dylan felt better so they released him, and he and Camryn went home with my parents. They did the spinal tap and it came back positive for viral meningitis. All I could think is "you have got to kidding me! My husband died while I was pregnant, I almost lost my baby in delivery, and now she has meningitis???? What the hell else can I handle?" We were admitted to the hospital and stayed three days, with her hooked up to an IV. She recovered well though, and all the nurses were in love with her by the time we left.
Four days later would have been mine and Joe's 8th anniversay. That was 100 times worse than his birthday to me. We usually didn't do much for our birthdays, but anniversaries were big. It was the one time every year we knew we would get a babysitter. It didn't matter what else was going on, we did something special for our anniversary, even the years I was pregnant. Last year Joe to9ok me to the Faith Hill/Tim McGraw concert.....something he cared nothing about, but knew I would love. So to sit here alone with the kids on our anniversary was depressing to say the least. And just like Father's Day, I was alone in my misery....its not anything anyone else would ever think about.
I've been hearing a lot of the usual cliches lately...."God doesn't give us more than we can handle", "What doesn't kill us makes us stronger", etc. Well this is what I think about those statements......I CAN'T HANDLE ANYMORE! I reached my breaking point the night Joe died....the only reason I'm able to go on is because of my kids. And as far as becoming a stronger person....I think I was a strong person before all of this. In fact I was stronger because of Joe. I'm not any stronger today, than I was 10 months ago. I don't foresee my kids growing up thinking what a strong mother they had. I imagine them talking about how their mother went insane the day their dad died, and that its a miracle they all survived.
July 23, 2007
Last year all I wanted in life was to have another baby. We tried for 9 months to get pregnant. I even took clomid one month....still nothing. So we were shocked in September to find out I was pregnant! I was thrilled! But that changed the day Joe died. My excitement was replaced by confusion and anger. I resented the fact that I was pregnant. All it meant to me was more stress, more money, more work, and more chaos in an already chaotic house. I was not excited at all about her arrival. I can remember many nights just crying my eyes out asking God why I was pregnant. If Joe couldn't be here with me, then I didn't want another baby. I was barely functioning well enough to take care of the babies I already had.
But the moment she was in danger all of those feelings disappeared. I just wanted my baby to be OK. Granted, it IS more work, more stress, more money, and more chaos....but I feel grateful none the less.
Now I know the answer to the question I asked all those nights. Now I know why she is here. She has brought the kids and me so much peace and happiness. We have something to smile about again. I have a reason to get out of bed again.
Yes, I'm exhausted, I run in circles all day, I still can't fit into my size 6 jeans, I'm on anti-depressants, and I still miss Joe terribly, but its going better than I thought it would. I get up every morning, get dressed, and take care of three kids by myself. So I guess that's something. And I'm even getting used to the looks and comments from strangers that see us all in public. When people see me with a 4 year old, a 2 year old, and a newborn they just can't resist making a comment about me having my hands full. and I just smile and say "you have NO idea"
But the moment she was in danger all of those feelings disappeared. I just wanted my baby to be OK. Granted, it IS more work, more stress, more money, and more chaos....but I feel grateful none the less.
Now I know the answer to the question I asked all those nights. Now I know why she is here. She has brought the kids and me so much peace and happiness. We have something to smile about again. I have a reason to get out of bed again.
Yes, I'm exhausted, I run in circles all day, I still can't fit into my size 6 jeans, I'm on anti-depressants, and I still miss Joe terribly, but its going better than I thought it would. I get up every morning, get dressed, and take care of three kids by myself. So I guess that's something. And I'm even getting used to the looks and comments from strangers that see us all in public. When people see me with a 4 year old, a 2 year old, and a newborn they just can't resist making a comment about me having my hands full. and I just smile and say "you have NO idea"
July 22, 2007
On Tuesday, May 22 I went to the hospital to have labor induced. At the last minute I decided that I wanted to be there alone. I felt that if Joe couldn't be there then no one should be there. I didn't even tell anyone that I was going, except for the ladies in my support group and my family, who was keeping my other 2 children. My decisions apparently offended a few people, but it was what I felt was best for me at the time, and until someone has experienced what I'm going through, I think judgments shouldn't be made.
So I dropped my kids off and headed for the hospital at 9pm. It was so strange being there without Joe. We had done this together two other times, so I could easily picture him there and imagine what he would be saying and doing.
There were several awkward moments during my hospital stay....beginning with the 100 questions they asked me upon my arrival. The nurse asked if I had been under any stress during my pregnancy....I just rolled my eyes and said yes. Then a few minutes later she asked me if I was single or married. You should have seen her face when I told her I was widowed. I can only imagine what the conversation was like when she went back to the nurses station.
The next morning my new nurse came in at 7am. It was the same nurse sho had delivered Dylan just 2 years ago. She had already been told about Joe's accident and I could tell it was awkward for her, but I was glad to have her there and I thought she handled the situation great.
At 9am my doctor came in to break my water. When he did, he immediately mumbled something to the nurse and then told her to get the ultrasound machine. She yelled SHIT and ran out the door. Within seconds she was back, but the doctor told her there was no time. He told her to trade places with him and keep her hand in my cervix. As he started to leave the room he turned to me and said "you're about to have the fastest c-section in history". There was immediately a team of nurses running in my room, sushing me out the door to the operating room. I wasn't wure who was in danger, the baby or me, but I knew it was bad. I just yelled for someone to call my family.
I was taken to the operating room with my nurse still on top f m ewith her hand in my cervix. She was freaking out and I remember another nurse trying to calm her down and told that as long as she could still feel the baby's heartbeat that she was OK. In the operating room I just remember seeing a whole team of people rushing around and the anesthesiologist telling me there was no time for an epidural, that he would have to put me completely under, and that everything was going to be OK. The last thing I remember is yelling at him "NO, ITS NOT OK!"
Then I woke up back in my room and was told that my baby girl was born at 9:12am (only 12 minutes after my doctor broke my water). I talked to several nurses and doctors that assisted and they all said it was a true emergency c-section in every sense. They said they didn't even properly scrub in....they just washed their hands real quick and cut me open as fast as they could. Courtlyn then made a very weak entrance into the world. They said she was blue, and her apgar score was only 4. But within minutes our pediatrician was able to get her breathing regularly and her second score was 8. The pediatrician told me that by the end of the whole ordeal she and my doctor and several nurses were all in tears. I thank God that I was completely under anesthesia because I don't think I could have handled all of that drama and stress.
Apparently the baby's cord was prolapsed, which is when the cord is positioned under the baby's head. Its potentially fatal because when the baby's head presses down on the cord it cuts off the oxygen supply to the baby. So that nurse that was on top of me with her hand in my cervix for 12 minutes was actually pushing the baby's head up, off the cord.
I truly believe that Joe was in that operating room with me, making sure we were OK. He knew me better than anyone else in the world, and he would know that there would be no way I could handle losing my baby....especially not now, having already lost him. Without him and my awesome doctors, I know Courtlyn wouldn't be here today. The pediatrican even told me that she was talking to Joe during the moments she was trying to get Courtlyn breathing. And even though I was asleep through the whole thing, I am certain he was right there by my side.
So I dropped my kids off and headed for the hospital at 9pm. It was so strange being there without Joe. We had done this together two other times, so I could easily picture him there and imagine what he would be saying and doing.
There were several awkward moments during my hospital stay....beginning with the 100 questions they asked me upon my arrival. The nurse asked if I had been under any stress during my pregnancy....I just rolled my eyes and said yes. Then a few minutes later she asked me if I was single or married. You should have seen her face when I told her I was widowed. I can only imagine what the conversation was like when she went back to the nurses station.
The next morning my new nurse came in at 7am. It was the same nurse sho had delivered Dylan just 2 years ago. She had already been told about Joe's accident and I could tell it was awkward for her, but I was glad to have her there and I thought she handled the situation great.
At 9am my doctor came in to break my water. When he did, he immediately mumbled something to the nurse and then told her to get the ultrasound machine. She yelled SHIT and ran out the door. Within seconds she was back, but the doctor told her there was no time. He told her to trade places with him and keep her hand in my cervix. As he started to leave the room he turned to me and said "you're about to have the fastest c-section in history". There was immediately a team of nurses running in my room, sushing me out the door to the operating room. I wasn't wure who was in danger, the baby or me, but I knew it was bad. I just yelled for someone to call my family.
I was taken to the operating room with my nurse still on top f m ewith her hand in my cervix. She was freaking out and I remember another nurse trying to calm her down and told that as long as she could still feel the baby's heartbeat that she was OK. In the operating room I just remember seeing a whole team of people rushing around and the anesthesiologist telling me there was no time for an epidural, that he would have to put me completely under, and that everything was going to be OK. The last thing I remember is yelling at him "NO, ITS NOT OK!"
Then I woke up back in my room and was told that my baby girl was born at 9:12am (only 12 minutes after my doctor broke my water). I talked to several nurses and doctors that assisted and they all said it was a true emergency c-section in every sense. They said they didn't even properly scrub in....they just washed their hands real quick and cut me open as fast as they could. Courtlyn then made a very weak entrance into the world. They said she was blue, and her apgar score was only 4. But within minutes our pediatrician was able to get her breathing regularly and her second score was 8. The pediatrician told me that by the end of the whole ordeal she and my doctor and several nurses were all in tears. I thank God that I was completely under anesthesia because I don't think I could have handled all of that drama and stress.
Apparently the baby's cord was prolapsed, which is when the cord is positioned under the baby's head. Its potentially fatal because when the baby's head presses down on the cord it cuts off the oxygen supply to the baby. So that nurse that was on top of me with her hand in my cervix for 12 minutes was actually pushing the baby's head up, off the cord.
I truly believe that Joe was in that operating room with me, making sure we were OK. He knew me better than anyone else in the world, and he would know that there would be no way I could handle losing my baby....especially not now, having already lost him. Without him and my awesome doctors, I know Courtlyn wouldn't be here today. The pediatrican even told me that she was talking to Joe during the moments she was trying to get Courtlyn breathing. And even though I was asleep through the whole thing, I am certain he was right there by my side.
July 21, 2007
The kids and I headed to Brookshires this afternoon. It took us an hour and a half just to buy $60 in groceries.
I gave Camryn and Dylan each a bag of candy to try and keep them quiet, and all was well for the first 15 minutes of our trip. But it didn't last long .
Courtlyn started screaming in her car seat, and it finally got to the point that I couldn't take it anymore so I got her out and carried her in one arm and pushed the cart with the other. That wasn't so bad, until she then continued to get more pissed off and I had to give in and feed her. So I'm walking through Brookshire's, attempting to read my list and actually buy things, while holding Courtlyn in one arm, holding the bottle with my chin, and still pushing the cart. At this point the kids were on a total sugar high....and anyone that knows Dylan (my 2 year old) can imagine what he's like after a bag of candy! He was all over the place. And my 4 year old, being the little bossy mother that she is, was trying to control him....which only made him act worse. Everytime I set Courtlyn up on my shoulder she would projectile vomit and scream, so in addition to everything else, I was covered in spitup too! The store was crowded of course, and it was hard to keep the cart going in the right direction since I was pushing it with one hand and holding a bottle with my chin, especially since Dylan kept jumping on and off the side rail. I was so stressed that I was starting to sweat, and an older lady walked by me and asked how old she was, and the told me I should have her covered in a blanket! What the hell? Did I look like I possibly gave a shit about a blanket? At that point everyone should have just been glad that I didn't leave all my kids at the store and come home by myself. Screw giving me advice about my cold baby....could someone just offer to get the canned pineapple off the top shelf for me?
I gave Camryn and Dylan each a bag of candy to try and keep them quiet, and all was well for the first 15 minutes of our trip. But it didn't last long .
Courtlyn started screaming in her car seat, and it finally got to the point that I couldn't take it anymore so I got her out and carried her in one arm and pushed the cart with the other. That wasn't so bad, until she then continued to get more pissed off and I had to give in and feed her. So I'm walking through Brookshire's, attempting to read my list and actually buy things, while holding Courtlyn in one arm, holding the bottle with my chin, and still pushing the cart. At this point the kids were on a total sugar high....and anyone that knows Dylan (my 2 year old) can imagine what he's like after a bag of candy! He was all over the place. And my 4 year old, being the little bossy mother that she is, was trying to control him....which only made him act worse. Everytime I set Courtlyn up on my shoulder she would projectile vomit and scream, so in addition to everything else, I was covered in spitup too! The store was crowded of course, and it was hard to keep the cart going in the right direction since I was pushing it with one hand and holding a bottle with my chin, especially since Dylan kept jumping on and off the side rail. I was so stressed that I was starting to sweat, and an older lady walked by me and asked how old she was, and the told me I should have her covered in a blanket! What the hell? Did I look like I possibly gave a shit about a blanket? At that point everyone should have just been glad that I didn't leave all my kids at the store and come home by myself. Screw giving me advice about my cold baby....could someone just offer to get the canned pineapple off the top shelf for me?
July16, 2007
Its 8:30 and all 3 kids are asleep! Thats right all THREE kids are asleep....I had my new baby girl on May 23 at 9:12am. Her name is Courtlyn LeeAnne and she arrived 2 weeks early, weighing 5 pounds, 13 ounces and 18 inches long.
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