Silas’s birth story

Silas's birth story Each one of my pregnancies and births have been very different and this was no exception. We spent some time in California and traveled back the end of June. We quickly turned around and spent the weekend at my in-laws cabin for the 4th of July. I had felt so good throughout pregnancy up until this point. I could feel something change within my body. My feet were swollen but I wasn’t sure if that was from driving, or if it was a sign of preeclampsia. I had preeclampsia with my 2nd and I was very well versed in the symptoms. I checked my blood pressure and things looked good- so I just chalked it up to too much summer fun and decided to have a couple of relaxed days. By the time I met with my doctor he told me I had markers for preeclampsia but I didn’t have it yet so just watch closely. At my 35 week appointment he was very concerned about my blood pressure, my swelling and my protein in my urine. But things were also mild enough that there wasn’t much we could do- and I even asked if taking it easy would help- and his answer was no. Once you have preeclampsia nothing helps besides delivering the baby. My doctor- (the one who has delivered my last 2 babies) was leaving out of the country for his 25th wedding anniversary and he told me to plan on delivering the baby at 37 weeks when he got back. He gave me the guidelines to follow and told me to call if my blood pressure got too high or if I started feeling pain in my liver or severe blurred vision. Things remained pretty uneventful for the first couple days after he left on his trip but he wanted me seen by another doctor at his office while he was gone just to be safe. The couple days before that appointment my blood pressure started to climb, and climb. I called labor and delivery the night before my appointment and they didn’t think it was bad enough to go in- so I stayed home and waited for my appointment with this other doctor the next afternoon. My appointment was at 4 in the afternoon- I left the kids with Reese and headed to my appointment. I was planning on running a few errands, some Chick-fil-A of course, and a Walmart grocery order on my way home. I planned on it being pretty uneventful. My appointment started pretty normal, until they took my blood pressure. It had climbed even higher since I took it in the morning. And they could only run half of the labs they needed to on my urine since the lab was closed for the day. But the labs they could run were not looking promising. I definitely threw the new doctor for a loop that day- “hi nice to meet you- I am a high maintenance patient that was left in your care for 10 days” While I was there be decided to check and see if I was dilated which since I was almost 4 weeks early- of course I wasn’t. But also he said he couldn’t tell if he was breech or not so he sent me for an ultrasound. I was 100% confident that he wasn’t breech since I had been told at a previous appointment that he was head down. But the ultrasound shattered that ideal because he was breech. At this point I have all the strikes against me. Doctor gone- strike. High blood pressure- strike. Protein in urine- strike. Breech baby- strike. Blurred vision and severe headache- strike. I hear the doctor in the hall calling labor and delivery because he wants to send me there to be monitored and take some more blood and urine tests. At this point I shoot a text to my husband trying to explain what’s going on because I know I can’t call him without completely losing it. I am now wishing he was here, and trying to figure out how to get help with the kids so he can meet me at the hospital. I am just alone, I felt so alone. Especially since I am in the hands of a doctor I just met that day. He came back in the room and told me labor and delivery was expecting me. I’m going to be honest- I didn’t head straight for labor and delivery. I drove for a minute and called my husband and I surprisingly filled him in on what was going on without completely losing it. Then I called my mother in law and asked her to pick up my Walmart grocery order and go take over my kids so Reese could come be with me. I hadn’t eaten yet and I was starving- and also procrastinating checking myself into the hospital. So I went and got myself chick-fil-a. I sat and ate it in the hospital parking garage and tried to collect myself before walking in. It felt weird I was there and ever weirder that I was alone. It was shift change when I got there so I kind of just hung out by myself in my room. Then the kindest nurse walked in named Shani. I don’t want to forget her because she was a nurse that made a huge difference in that day. I explained to her my situation and that I had barely met Dr Robison and didn’t know how to feel about him. She knows him from working with him for many years and helped me understand him as a person and as a doctor. And she also helped me as him questions that I probably wouldn’t have asked because I was in pure shock, and without my husband. I was counting down the seconds till he could join me and help me make decisions. When Reese got to the hospital the doctor came in and filled him in. Which is good because my head was spinning from all the information flying at me, and I was honestly having an out of body experience. I most definitely was in shock. My protein in my urine had gone so high that he has only seen one other person higher than me in his career. They had jumped just in a few hours since I was in the doctors office. We were told it was time for the baby to come. Between my blood pressure, my protein, and my headaches- he was worried about my safety and my baby’s safety. So we knew it was time for delivery but we had another choice to make- did we want to try to flip the baby and induce or did we want to just do a c- section. Trying to flip a breech baby only has about a 50% success rate as is, and I had other complications added in. I have had a previous c section and I also have a funny uterus. It’s heart shaped with a lining down the middle . So I have a definite left and right side of the uterus- maybe two cervixes too- but that’s a story for a different day. Silas was the first baby to grow in my right side (the smaller side) So my chances of him being successful in flipping the baby was slim to none. But I still wanted to try- I had a vision of how this delivery was supposed to go, he was my last baby, I’ve had 2 successful VBACs- I was determined to have another one. I didn’t want to a c-section. There was no way I could take care of 4 kids and recover from a major surgery. This wasn’t the plan. I told my husband I wanted to flip him. And my dear husband could see things more clearly- but he said ultimately it was my choice. I asked him for a Priesthood blessing. As soon as he laid his hands upon my head and started the blessing- I knew. I knew the answer. I knew I was going to have a c section. And I felt such a peace wash over me. After he was done- we both looked at each other and we didn’t even need to talk to know what conclusion we had both come to. The doctor came back in and we told him we had chosen a c section. Even though I felt peace with our choice, I still feel like I was in shock. I felt like I was standing outside my body watching all of this happen- and that I would just wake up from this nightmare soon. As soon as we told him we were doing a C-section - everything moved so quickly. I was in the OR before I knew it getting my spinal block. It’s so weird to be awake while you are having a major surgery. At one point I looked up at the shiny silver light and I could see the reflection of my open abdomen being operated on. After that lovely traumatic view- I closed my eyes. But I could still hear everything that was happening. It freaked me out more than I remember it freaking me out when I had my previous C-section almost 9 years ago. Then it was time for them to pull the baby out- they lowered the sheet so I could see him being pulled out. If I am being completely honest I still felt very disconnected from everything going on. They pulled him out and I remember thinking “he is tiny, and why isn’t he crying?” When I heard his tiny cry I felt a wave of relief come over me. They told my husband to follow the baby while they put me back together. Which honestly I didn’t see coming and I was left alone while they put me back together. My support had left to support the baby. I know he was torn but I am glad he went with the baby. The nurse came back out and announced to the room “3 lbs 12 oz” And that’s when I lost it. I started to bawl, I felt like such a failure in that moment. My body had let us down. I not only had to have a C-section but somehow my baby was so tiny. Tinier than he should be at this point. As I was crying- I was telling them to put the baby back, that he needs to keep growing. The kind anesthesiologist put his hand on my shoulder and asked if I was okay. He stepped in since Reese was gone and tried to calm me down. He made such a difference In that moment Reese was able to rejoin me for the tail end of my C-section and fill me in on how the baby was and show me pictures. He told me that he was going to have to spend a little time in the nicu, that he needed oxygen and a feeding tube. Surprisingly I was calm about it all, I knew he was getting the help he needed. But also I think I was so calm because of how disconnected I felt. I was in denial that there was a baby that was mine, it all felt too quick. He was supposed to bake longer. I wasn’t ready. This wasn’t the plan. I didn’t get to meet the baby until the next morning. Daddy got to spend some time with him, but I still wasn’t doing very good to he was back and forth from the nicu and my room. When morning came and my spinal block wore off- I begged the nurse to let me go meet him. She was hesitant but I insisted. Reese helped me into a wheelchair and off we went. I was able to meet our baby boy for the first time. I wish I could say I remember it vividly- but the magnesium they put me on for my blood pressure, and that stuff makes you feel so terrible. It gives you a migraine, makes you feel like you are drugged out of your mind, makes you sick to your stomach, and dizzy. But we chose a name since I finally got to meet him. We went in with 2 choices. One my husband was set on, and one I was set on. I was confident that we would chose my name. But we both felt he looked like a Silas (my husband’s choice) So Silas it was. I still had a hard time believing this tiny human was mine- he felt like such a stranger, and having to leave him in the nicu and go back to my room because I kept passing out, was the hardest thing to do. I just wanted to get to know my baby, to touch him, hold him, kiss him. But that wasn’t in the cards for us for the first couple of days when I was too sick to keep going to the NICU. I was able to visit a few times over the first couple days, but not too long and I wanted to make sure I was supervised since I wasn’t feeling myself and I was also so intimidated by all the cords and tubes coming from him. By Sunday I had turned a new corner, my blood pressure was down, and they were also releasing me from the hospital. But they weren’t releasing Silas. Since it was slow in labor and delivery I was able to stay in my room and just pay $30 a day. Not as a patient- I was on my own, no nurses. But I was able to remain close, across the hall from the NICU to be exact. And since I was feeling better, I was able to go in for every feeding every 3 hours and spend time with Silas. Reese went home on Sunday to relieve him mom and take over the other 3 kids while I stayed with Silas to help him and also to work on healing more before I came home. Car seats only go as low as 4 lbs so it looked like we were going to have to wait until he was 4 lbs to bring him home, but on Sunday the NICU doctor gave us a link for a car seat rated for 3 lbs and up. We ordered the carseat and waited for it’s arrival. In the mean time- I stayed at the hospital and went every 3 hours to the nicu. I would go to the nicu, feed Silas, snuggle for a bit, go back to my room pump and eat and maybe sleep and repeat. I knew I couldn’t skip any feedings because depending on the nurse- they get impatient and feed him through his feeding tube instead of his bottle and in order to get his feeding tube out- he needed to be eating 80% out of a bottle. Once I had taken over all his feedings- he was off the feeding tube the next day. Which was a huge milestone! The next step was getting the carseat which Amazon said would be delivered Wednesday. I told Reese that as soon as it was delivered he was to stop whatever he was doing and bring it up to the hospital. And on Wednesday he did just that. As soon as it came he hopped in the car to bring it to us. Silas needed to pass a 90 minute car seat test and if he did, after a long week in the nicu, we were able to go home! That was the longest 90 minutes of my life! It was such a happy day to bring him home and introduce him to our other kids since they couldn’t meet him in the NICU. I was so excited to come home, but I had made some dear friends in the NICU that I will probably never see again. Some of those nurses were angels and I really grew close to some. The hospital was my home for a week, as hard as it was to be away from my other kids- I was grateful that Reese and I could tag team things. We make a pretty great team. I was also able to heal for a week before coming home to real life, which I was grateful for that time. It felt so so good to have my family back together again. Hawker- party of 6 🎉

Half Truths

Life in 2018 is interesting, it’s hard to deal with personal matters in a private way because they seem to be posted all over social media. But even if they are posted all over social media- the whole story is never there. I might post a picture of my daughter at swim lessons, but what you don’t know is that I also discovered at swim lessons that my yoga pants were on inside out all day. 

While this is a funny (very real) example of how half truths get posted to social media- there has been one recently that has been posted to social media, that impacts my life in a significant way. 

I tried to ignore it, but it’s not going away. And now everyone in the town of Blackfoot and the moon have been notified of it. 

It’s hard for me to talk about for a few different reasons. First, I don’t exactly know how to navigate the situation myself.  Second, I know that people will never fully understand how I feel. Third, it’s hard for me to talk about, just thinking about it makes my anxiety hit the roof. 

I’m not posting to hurt anyone, but I am posting to protect and explain myself. 

My parents are getting remarried to each other. Please don’t congratulate me. I wish with all my heart I could be excited, but I am not. My heart hurts. Things are complicated. They have been divorced for almost 4 years and while others look at it and think it resembles a happy ending in a romantic comedy- I look at it and see all the pain that had been caused the past 4 years along with the loss of trust and they want to wave it away with a magic wand- which sadly it doesn’t work that way. 

I don’t see my parents, I don’t even talk to them if I can avoid it. I don’t see that changing anytime soon.  

And I don’t expect you to understand, I don’t except anyone to understand - even my siblings and I all feel differently about the situation. 

My way of dealing with it might not make sense to anyone, and sometimes it doesn’t even make sense to me. Sometimes I handle it well, and other days I’m completely falling apart- so that tells you right there that my cooping mechanisms are far from perfect. 

I know some people in the world wished they had my trials, and I recognize I am very blessed. Which is why I have to take a step back from things or else my anxiety gets the best of me and I forget how truly wonderful my life is. 

Right now I have chosen to focus on my little family. I have two little girls and a wonderful husband  who need me. And they are my priority. And I pray that one day I will be able to sit down for a meal with my parents and be able to laugh and talk like we did 4 years ago, but truthfully the thought of doing that right now makes me want to vomit.

The Good Wife's Guide Busted

In honor of my 3rd wedding anniversary tomorrow- I thought I would give some marriage advice.

Have you seen a funny article from the 50s floating around on the internet about how to be a good wife? I came across it on Facebook and got a good laugh out of it. A laugh is about all I got- because most of the article is ridiculous. So I am blowing the whistle on it. I am busting this article.

Shayna's Good Wife's Guide.

• Article:Have dinner ready. Plan ahead, even the night before, to have a delicious meal ready on time for his return. This is a way of letting him know that you have be thinking about him and are concerned about his needs. Most men are hungry when they get home and the prospect of a good meal is part of the warm welcome needed.

Shayna: Know your husband's favorite take out- just in case your day has been crazy. Which most likely it has been just as crazy as his. All that matters in the end- is he is fed. A sandwich will do fine. No need for a Thanksgiving feast every night. But if you are feeling really good- try a Pinterest recipe out on him, that way all that recipe pinning you have done doesn't go to waste. 

• Article: Prepare yourself. Take 15 minutes to rest so you'll be refreshed when he arrives. Touch up your make-up, put a ribbon in your hair and be fresh-looking. He has just been with a lot of work-weary people

Shayna:This one isn't half bad. The ribbon may be overkill- but it is always good to look good for your man. But hopefully your man can deal with a weary looking wife- because those days will happen. 

Article: Be a little gay and a little more interesting for him. His boring day may need a lift and one of your duties is to provide it.

Shayna: No one likes coming home to a grumpy spouse. A little smooching usually does the trick. Or our favorite thing to do is watch a funny show on Netflix to lift our spirits! 

Article: 

• Clear away the clutter. Make one last trip through the main part of the house just before your husband arrives. Run a dustcloth over the tables.

Shayna: No time to do the dishes? Throw them in the sink with some Dawn dish soap. Looks clean- smells clean. Spray some Febreeze and start your Scentsy warmer. If it smells clean it will distract from the clutter.  And lets be honest- hopefully your man is like mine and will kiss you and tell you no to worry about a messy house, that he will help you clean later. Now that is a man. 

Article: Greet him with a warm smile and show sincerity in your desire to please him.

Shayna: Give him a big wet smooch as he comes in. Smooches are the best greeting. 

Article: Don't complain if he's late for dinner or even if he stays out all night. Count this as minor compared to what he might have gone through at work.

Shayna: Expect him to be home on time- and if he isn't going to be home on time- expect a call/text. It is only polite.  And if he goes out- he best take you. Reese and I do everything together- we want to- we are best friends. 

Article: Make him comfortable. Have him lean back in a comfortable chair or lie him down in the bedroom. Have a cool or warm drink ready for him.

Shayna: The best surprise is a yummy drink in the fridge after a long day. On your travels throughout the day pick him up a drink- he will love you forever. 

It isn't the 50's anymore- marriage is about sacrifice (from both partners) There are days were everything goes smoothly and he might just come

Home to fresh baked cookies. But then there are those days were everything had gone wrong and you don't need a man to nag- you need a man to squeeze you tight and make you forget about those days. 

I love being married. I get to wake up to my best friend everyday and smooch him whenever I want! 

And that man has lots of patience to be married to a crazy like me! ;)

Bring on the big 2!

I think my baby turning 2 was harder than her turning one- My bald headed baby is gone. She is a little girl now. She may look like a 2 year old, but she acts like a 5 year old somedays.

To celebrate her birthday I took her to Ijump with her little best friend, and the to her favorite place to eat "chicken cow" Translated: Chick fil a. And later that night Reese and I took her to the corn maze, where she loved having the power of choosing which way we were going to go.

I honestly wish I could bottle her up and keep her this age. She is the sweetest, with just the right amount of sass.

She loves watching Youtube videos. Sometimes of people opening toys, sometimes people playing with playdoh and sometimes nursery rhythms.

She always wants Reese to put her to bed at night, he sings a song from the Little Mermaid to her, and she just thinks that is grand.

She is really good at puzzles. She has a jigsaw puzzle that she can put together faster than I can.

Her little vocabulary kills me.  She just soaks in the world around her. Some of my favorites are:

"Pumpkin scare me!" (our jack-o-lantern must be scary)
"Mommy! mommy! Shayna! Shayna!" (She calls me Shayna about 40% of the time lately)
"Hear dat, Hear the dog!" (as she cups her ear when we are outside)
"How do you do?"

She is such a polite little thing, always saying sorry if she bumps into you, thank you, and please. Last night when Reese was washing the vomit off  her face (she has the flu) She looked up at him and said " Thank you Daddy"

She is truly a blessing in our lives. She brings so much happiness into our home. We love our little girl.

Mom of Two

I remember when I was pregnant with Ruby, people would say things like "oh just wait, your life will never be the same" or "enjoy your freedom while you can"

And it would drive me crazy! Of course I didn't know from experience what it was like to be a mom, but I knew my life would never be the same, but I was completely okay with that, it is part of our Heavenly Father's plan.

And I had been a one kid mom for almost 3 years when we got pregnant with Hazel, and the comments started all over again. "enjoy only having one to take care of" "two is a whole new experience", "you think being a mom is hard now, just wait"

And again... they drove me crazy. And also scared me. I knew having a second baby would be different than when I just had one. I couldn't just sleep when the baby slept, and who would want to watch two kids so Reese and I could go out? How would I go out into the world by myself being outnumbered?? There were so many things that crossed my mind before Hazel got here.

I could sit here and blog about why it is harder, but those reasons are pretty obvious. I am here to tell you what is better about the second baby than the first! You heard me, there are better things!

1. You are experienced 

You've got this. You know all the tricks in how to calm a baby, you have breastfed before, you've been pooped on, sprit up on, peed on, you have been a sleep deprived zombie before.... you have experienced it all!

I feel a lot more confident with Hazel than I did Ruby. I remember once I overfed Ruby and she spit up out her nose- and I started bawling and called my mom. If that happens to Hazel, I know exactly where I went wrong, wipe it up and move on.

2. Your husband is experienced 

Same song and dance, your husband knows how to clean those newborn black poops like a boss. And this time he isn't afraid to stay home with the tiny baby alone. In fact- he can relax and enjoy the bonding time. And this time when everyone and their dog sees your boobs in the hospital while you are trying to get breastfeeding down- he isn't embarrassed ;) haha

3. You are already used to being controlled by a tiny human
When I had Ruby there was a big shift in my life. I was used to taking care of myself and only myself, And then all of a sudden I had Ruby who depended on me for everything. I went from going to school and working full time to staying home to a baby who sucked everything out of me- literally. But now, I am used to staying home. I am used to a tiny human needing me. So really adding another tiny human wasn't that big of deal- because I have already embraced that lifestyle.

4. Stretch marks aren't new to your vocabulary
My after baby body this time isn't as shocking,  I am used to stretch marks, and my tummy pooch.

5. You have all the baby stuff
I had all the necessary baby stuff from Ruby so this time I got to buy the fun stuff and extra convenience stuff. Like a video baby monitor, and golden moccasins haha.

6. Having a mini helper
I have Ruby to help me, she takes all Hazel's diapers to the trash, will help me find a lost binky, or get me a blanket. And she loves to help! She always tells me thank you when I hand her a dirty diaper to throw away haha. And I have someone to talk to during the day, even if it is just conversations about the latest Disney movie we just watched, at least I have company.

photo cred: Ash & co

Yes, there are plenty of challenges that come with having 2 kids. But honestly, the good somehow makes all of that fade into the distance. It is so fun to see how much Ruby loves her sister, and I am excited to see their relationship grow.

I did forget how hard it is to get things done with a tiny baby around, I was used to a toddler who entertains herself- but I will enjoy the snuggles while I can, because they grow up way too quickly.

Name Game

From the minute we found out we were having a girl, we knew we were in trouble in the name department. We have agreed on one girl name in the past- and that was Ruby. And well since Ruby 2 wasn't a viable option, we had to start from scratch with our name list.

Reese and I talked about names for awhile, but then we stopped. We were making no progress with our list, and we couldn't seem to find one we both loved. I was content with 3 names that we kind of liked on the list- at least we would have something to pull from when we had her unless we found something different.

Reese loves the name Sophia- and I do too.. but I can't get over how popular it was. But Reese could. When people asked what we were naming her, I would always say we have no idea, but apparently when I wasn't around- Reese would tell them Sophia.

One day when I was at Chick-fil-a (it's where the cool moms go) I heard a mom call for her daughter- and her name was Hazel. I had read the name Hazel on baby name lists and had really liked it- but I was hesitant to tell Reese. But when I heard it at Chick-fil-a, I knew it was the name of the sweet little babe in my belly. Something just clicked.

  I finally worked myself up to telling Reese- I really didn't want him to shoot it down, because I love loved it. 

When I told him, he said he would think on it and let me know. And he liked it but nothing trumped Sophia for him. So I just started to think I was going to have to give in and let Sophia win.

A few days before having her, I rolled over to Reese in bed and said "I don't want to talk about baby names because I'm tired, but I need to know you will be open to more than Sophia." And when he told me yes, I could sleep peacefully that night.

The night before we had her we drove out to Reese's parents for a family dinner. On the way out there Reese said to  me "so, I guess it's probably time to decide a name."

So we each told what our top name on the list was- mine being Hazel, and his Sophia.

We took a vote at dinner that night (Reese's idea)  and to our surprise- Hazel won by a landslide!

I think that little vote helped Reese to see how freaking cute the name Hazel was. But we were still undecided. And that stressed me out a little bit, especially since every nurse that came in while I was in labor asked me what the name of our baby was... and then tried to name her for us (oh so helpful lol)

Reese knew when he saw her for the first time, that she was a Hazel. In fact, he was the one who named her, mostly because I was drugged up and had double vision haha.

So I knew long before he did what her name was, and when she was born- he knew I was right :) And now we both keep telling each other how much we love her name- it fits our sweet baby perfectly.

                                                        Little Hazel Arlene Hawker

And as for her middle name- that one is extra special to me. (and to Reese too of course.)

Arlene is after my great grandma- who actually died last February at 100 years old. She was a remarkable woman. She served many missions for the LDS church, she was an underwater welder during the war, had a current temple recommend all of her life-even when she was 100, and was always learning new things and helping everyone around her. She is a true role model, and
I feel honored that my daughter can carry her name on. And I can't wait to teach Hazel all about her.

So that's the story of how we named our second daughter, Hazel Arlene :)

Hazel's Birth Story

Our sweet little Hazel is one week old today, and I have been meaning to share her birth story while it is still fresh in my brain.

It might get lengthy, so be prepared.

At about 34 weeks of pregnancy I noticed my feet started to swell, and one Sunday night my vision was so blurry that I couldn't read my phone. I remember staring at Reese across the room, and not being able to see him. When he asked what I was looking at- I began to cry (remember- preggo hormones) - and told him I couldn't see anything. I called my dad that night and he brought over his blood pressure cuff and my blood pressure was a lot higher than normal. I called my doctor and he told me they would watch it carefully for the next couple weeks.

The high blood pressure went down for a couple weeks and then came back with vengeance at 36 weeks. My legs were tree stumps, and my feet were balloons. I felt  terrible. I was never miserable with Ruby's pregnancy but this time I was so over being pregnant. High blood pressure can make you feel terrible. And at the end... I couldn't even get my pants over my fat feet.

At my 36 week appointment they told me I had preeclampsia and to be prepared to have a baby early.  So I cleaned and stocked up on the essentials, and soaked in the alone time with Ruby.

When we went to the doctor on the 30th (I was 37 weeks) - and he took my blood pressure and made me pee in a cup to check my protein levels, and as soon as he got the results- he called the hospital and we had one hour to get to the hospital because they were going to induce us. I told Reese I wanted to hurry and eat so we had a gourmet Mcdonald's breakfast, texted our families to update them and headed over to Mountain View Hospital. It was my father-in -laws birthday so he was extra excited to get a birthday buddy! And I was excited I didn't have to find him a gift.

Within minutes of arriving-I was in a hospital gown and being hooked up to monitors and IVs.

With Ruby- I had a c-section, so this time we were going to try a VBAC. My doctor really doesn't love to induce with VBACs because it increases the risks, and can go wrong easier- resulting in an emergency c-section. But he knew how it important it was to Reese and I and so he still let me try to do a VBAC, while monitoring me very close.

When inducing with a VBAC, they have to do it carefully- They use little tiny doses of pitocin, and a lovely balloon like device to help me dilate. (TMI? well you are reading a birth story lol)

They started me on pitocin at about 11 and then I got my epidural around 1. They did the epidural so soon because the ballon device is extra painful, and dilated me to a 6 rather quickly.

6:00pm - After the ballon did its job, my doctor broke my water. And that's when things started to go wrong. My blood pressure got into the 180s, and the baby was in distress. They started me on magnesium, put me on oxygen, and added water back in to me for the baby. At this point they were worried about me and the baby and I could tell that they were about ready to throw in the towel and take me back for c-section. It was a stressful few hours, but my doctor never left the hospital and kept a close eye on me and the baby.

Luckily with the magnesium my BP started to get a little lower, and the fluids were helping the baby's heart rate to stay steady.

Magnesium isn't something I would wish on my worst enemy. I had to be hooked up to it for 24 hours after she was born. It was miserable. I had the worst migraine of my life, and things are pretty cloudy during that 24 hours. I had double vision, and I could't see what Hazel looked like- or remember what we named her for the life of me for that 24 hrs.

At about 10:30 the dr checked me and I was ready to push. I hadn't ever done this type of birth before- and I was scared out of my mind. But my doctor was awesome, he coached me and encouraged me throughout the whole thing. Along with the support of the sweet nurse and Reese everything went as planned, and at exactly midnight on the dot, our sweet baby was born. They handed her straight to me.

That moment was indescribable. With Ruby they whisked her away to the NICU and I didn't meet her until 6 hours later. This time I was able to hold Hazel seconds after she was born while Reese cut the umbilical cord. I bawled, Reese bawled, and we were now a family of 4.

She weighed 5 lbs even, and was 19 inches long.

And she doesn't share a birthday with her grandpa- she was one minute late ;)

 Once I saw the weight, I worried they would take her away from me because surely we can't be that lucky to have her stay with us. But we were. There was lots of prayers said during my labor, and she came out  perfect. I wouldn't change a thing about the way she came to us- it was such a special day in our lives.

And I feel like a super mom now, because I have given birth 2 different ways!

We love our sweet little Hazel

I was going to tell you how she ended up with the name Hazel, but that will have to happen in a different post. :)

6 years ago today..

6 years ago today- Reese asked me to be his wife! I cannot believe our 6 year anniversary is coming up- it still seems like it should be our 6 month mark!

Falling in love with Reese was something I never expected to happen- I had other plans. 

From our first date I knew he was something special. He was different from the other boys I had dated- and that scared me. 

Reese always stood out to me- he was such a hard worker, he really respected me, and he never let me pay for a single thing when we were together. 

He knew falling in love with him wasn't my plan- and he was patient with me. He was patient with me up until the day I knew I had to tell him right then and there that I loved him so I drove to island park- and walked a mile in the snow to tell him in person! (That is a good story haha) 

I was 19 when we got married, he was 22. People always ask me if I regret getting married that young- but I never have- not for a second. 

Contrary to what people might think- I didn't miss out on my college years, or my young adult free life. In fact, it was just 10x better to do it with the guy I loved! 

Back then we were running on love and macaroni (and hot dogs). And now our dynamics have changed as we have added Ruby (and penny) to our family.- and I couldn't love my little family anymore! 

I'm so glad I said yes that day Reese Hawker asked me to be his wife- because he makes me a better person!! He makes me so happy, he is the best daddy, and he works so so so hard to provide for our family so I can stay home. 

So when people ask if I ever think about what I missed out on by getting married so young- I tell them "no, but I do think I about what I would have missed out on if I wouldn't have gotten married"

Anyone else a teenage bride?? 😂

Passion Week

Last Sunday I shook the hand of an apostle of the Lord. 

An experience that I will never forget but I need to write down so it won't fade. 

Jeffery R. Holland of the quorum of the twelve apostles came to my father in laws stake. (He is the stake president) 

And we were invited to come. I pulled out all the stops and packed Ruby a killer diaper bag full of activites and treats, hoping she would last the entire 2 hours! 

 

Before the meeting, I was able to shake Elder and Sister Holland's hands. Sister Holland stopped and talked to Ruby. 

"What's your name?" 

"I'm Ruby!"

"How old are you?"

"I'm two.." (Holds up 5 fingers! Lol)

She was talking to Sister Holland as if she were a friend, or a grandma. Ruby can be bashful but she was so comfortable with this sister.

It touched my heart. Sister Holland radiated with the love of Christ. 

We were priveledged to hear from both Sister and Elder Holland.

Sister Holland is amazing. During her talk there was something that struck me deep. And in the talk she said "I know my husband is an apostle of God because I hear him pray."

Wow. What a simple yet powerful testimony of the work of the Lord. 

Elder Holland talked about prayers being answered and also about passion week. Passion week being the week that Christ was betrayed, and crucified but also resurrected. 

I felt as though he was speaking directly to me at some parts in his talk. The Spirit was testifying to me that Elder Holland is a true apostle of Jesus Christ. 

He talked about trials, and hardships that the Lord faced but also the trials and hardships that we face. 

He related passion week to our lives. The bad always comes before the good. We must endure trials and tribulations to get to the good part. The Lord will always give us what we want and we need, it may not be in this life- but the blessings and promises from our Heavenly Father will be fulfilled if we have faith. 

"This is the church of happy endings" Elder Holland

Just as Christ, we have to go through trials and heartache to get to the ressurection. 

So if you are going through a trial, remember that our Savior has suffered for our sins and for our trials. He loves us and will walk with us to get us to our happy Ending. Turn to your Heavenly Father in prayer and ask for comfort and guidence, and remember that Elder Holland has promised us-

The bad always comes before the good .

"Because he was alone, you don't have to be" Elder Holland

Happy passion week 💕

Messy Bun Moms

I ran to Walmart tonight to grab a few last things for Easter dinner and our Easter egg hunt. (Rookie mistake- I know)

And I seriously looked homeless. But I needed to run to the store before it was Ruby's bedtime, and so I just decided to go and pray I didn't see anyone I knew. 

Luckily I didn't see anyone, but I was slightly embarrassed that real people (outside my family) saw me looking like that. 

And when I got home and actually looked at my appearance in the mirror, I was beyond embarrassed and then hoped no one paid attention to my sloppy look. But chances are, I'm going to be on people of Walmart tomorrow. 

You don't believe me huh? 

I took proof.

(Ha look at my T. rex arm )

And if you could see my pants(I use that term loosely since they were yoga leggings) - they were covered in diaper rash cream, dirt and

Ruby's snot. 

But then I got thinking about why I looked the way I did, and I began to smile. 

My hair was a mess, because I dedicated today to a work day around the house and yard. I didn't need to impress anyone. Ruby actually had a matching black head band and a messy bun. She wanted to look like me. (She thinks I'm pretty cool lol) 

My cheeks were red because I had spent the entire day outside in the sun working and playing with Ruby. 

My "pants" had peices of weeds, and dirt on them because I had been on the ground outside helping Reese build Ruby a trampoline for Easter. 

The diaper rash cream was because I was being mom and chased to toddler who was running around the house with a naked bum and caught her before she rubbed the cream all over the carpet, hence the butt print on my "pants" 

The boogers- well I'm a walking tissue. 

The bags under my eyes- we have been working nonstop trying to get our yard presentable for Easter dinner. Oh and the bags may be permentant because I have a toddler. ;)

The stickers all over my shirt were put there by Ruby while I was trying to keep her busy late night grocery shopping. So she didn't have a meltdown. 

So I guess I didn't look homeless. I looked like a mom. A mom who has been working in the yard all day, who has been playing with their toddler. 

So next time you see a mom in the store in yoga pants, and a messy bun. She isn't lazy. In fact- that is the uniform of a hard working woman. She gives and gives and her needs are totally pushed to the side. 

She has worked hard, and has played hard. 

Don't let that worn out look fool you-

She loves what she does. 

So when you see her singing wheels on the bus as she is pushing her toddler through the store, give her a high 5.

Cause messy bun moms-

They are rockstars.

Don't just react, interact.

Some people on Facebook live for the "likes". How many likes with this status get, or how many likes will the lastest selfie (that I filtered the crap out of because I look like a zombie) get?

Sally liked your photo. 

Sami liked your status. 

See a status- click like 

Marsha likes your witty comment on an article. 

See a baby picture- like the baby picture (even though you don't remember the kids name or how you met his mom for that matter.)

Like. Like. Like. 

That's it. 

Or is it? Now you can show a little more emotion and react to a picture. You can be sad, angry, love it, Etc.

There is emotion back in the

World of Facebook again. (Insert sarcasm here)

We might as well be robots talking  to robots. "Oh your grandma died- I don't know what to write, so I am going to react sad to your post"

Can you imagine if you were out in the real world and you were talking to someone and they would soley use their facial emotions to talk to you? No words.. Just a thumbs up or an angry brow thrown in the conversation every once in a while. 

That's how babies communicate. We are grown adults and all we can do with all the time we waste on FB is to "react" to people's posts. Gag me with a spoon. (Now that would be an appropriate reaction!) 

Remember the keyboard you have on your phone, no no- not the emoji keyboard you added in- the keyboard that came with your phone. The alphabet? There is a song? Is this ringing any bells?

Oh good- you found it. We are intelligent people, so why in the H are we going back to cave drawings to communicate. 

Now don't get me wrong, I love emojis- and I use them to enhance the SENTENCES and sometimes PARAGRAPHS that I text to people. Don't be shocked, people still type things out- stay with me. 

And sometimes I get lazy and reply with an emoji... It happens. 

And I'm not totally against the reaction thing on FB but if you are going to feel sad about my dog getting hit by a car... Use that little box that says "write a comment" and write one! If you love my photo- tell me why! 

I have a love/hate relationship with FB. Sometimes being a stay at home mom can be lonely and FB is a good way to stay in touch and feel like you are an adult for once- but lately- I have been having better conversations with my 2 year old than I am on FB. 

Why I am ranting? Mostly because it is my blog, and I want to. 

But also to challenge anyone who reads this (and pass the challenge along!)....

I challenge you for the next week, when you react to something on FB (of a Facebook friend)- comment. Tell them why you are reacting the way you are. Ask them a question, compliment them, etc.

But for the love, don't just "react" or use an emoji as an easy way out you hipster caveman (or woman). 

Communicate. Life will be happier if we spend a little extra time to know people we care. 

Interact, don't just react. 

Sunday Thoughts

A few months ago- I made a post about faking it to make it. I was somewhat vague in what was happening in my life, and the in another post a few weeks later (The Real Me) I exposed my life for what it really was, not how it looked on Instagram or Facebook. I felt so vulnerable posting about my life, but it was very healing in a way. I got the sweetest messages from friends- friends who didn't know what I was going through, and friends who did but didn't quite know what to say.

*A little side note* I have learned these past couple years that if you know someone is having a hard day, or going through some rough trials and you don't know what to say- it's okay! I am honestly the worst with words of sympathy sometimes, I just make awkward jokes or I am the person who says "it's so good to see you" at a funeral. But really- it's the thought that counts- so message them, call them, invite them to do something- embrace the awkwardness that might follow and just let them know you love them! And are thinking about them! 

Okay, back to my original thought. 

After posting, and sorting through some things in my life- I began to think I was on the road to healing and my life becoming somewhat normal again. But 2016 has proved to be a real B. (Honestly that's the best way to describe it)

I once again had to put on my bright lipstick and fake it to make it. 

It's been a rough couple of months, but I became fake again- to avoid being vulnerable to those not closest to me in my life. My IG has been filled with mostly rainbows and butterflies, and my face has a permanent smile in public. But once again.. When I am home... I am in shambles. Shambles which Reese picks up and puts back together just in time for me to break again. 

This brings me to my story of today and what I was so compelled to share with you all. 

Today was once of those crazy mornings before church, where we were late, where I thought walking to church in 4 inch heels was a good idea, where my toddler was naughty in sacrament meeting- and after a grumpy morning I was ready to throw in the towel after sacrament. In fact, I even asked Ruby if she wanted to go home. (Terrible mom Oscar right here)

And she told me "no mom, I need to go to nursery." 

What a sweet example she was to us today. She must have known I needed to be in relief society for purposes beyond fulfilling my calling. I needed to hear the lesson. The lesson was wonderful and I felt so spiritual fed, but there was a comment made by a newer sister in the ward that has stuck with me all day, and I hope it will forever. 

"Faith it till you make it!" 

I hurried and typed it up and make it something cute to go on my screensaver of my phone so I would always remember it. 

What a sweet simple thought, but so powerful. We all have more than we can handle sometimes in our life on our plate, sometimes it might be juggling family life with work life, a death, trials, tribulations, temptations, struggling to fulfill a calling, or just a bad day. But if we put faith in the Lord in all things- we will make it, and we will come out of it- we will come out of it better than we went into it. 

So will life gets you down, let the Lord take over- and things will work out. 

It turns out I needed the Lord to make it, not lipstick. 

Being Real- My Story

Holidays make me uneasy. Everyone of them, from Christmas to Halloween, from Thanksgiving to Easter. All I want to do is curl up in a ball, cry for how things used to be. I put on my best face, which midday turns into me putting a grumpy face on as the pain eats away at me, and eventually picking a fight with Reese - because I need to get my anger out somehow, and he is there. It isn't right, and it isn't fair- but life isn't fair. So he endures me through my bad days, and he always knows why I am in a bad mood without a word about it spoken. He is my rock.

For the last year, I have been mourning a death.

Not a death that is listed under the obituaries in the paper. No one sent flowers, no one brought food.

When I got married, I quickly realized how important family was. My friendships dwindled away, but my family was always there for me. There was no other place I would rather spend a Friday night than with my family playing games, and watching the grandkids play in the backyard. Family has always been important in my life.

It was a normal weekend, I spent the Saturday at the fair with my family, and on Sunday we were all going to get together since my sister was in town.

That is the day, the day that will forever be stamped on my forehead as an ugly reminder of the events that took place.

It was the worst day of my life.

As dramatic as that sounds, it is true.

I remember the day almost down to every last word that was spoken, and ever action that was made. I replay the day over and over in my head. It still feels like a nightmare I can't wake up from.

This is harder to write about than I imagined. I have had this page open for hours this past week, and it is hard to share something so person, so raw, so emotional with the world. It also involves other people, other people that I love and care for. But this isn't about them, it is about me, about me being real with those in my life. It is part of my healing process.

That day, as we (my sister, brother, and me) sat on my parents bed, awaiting them to tell us bad news, we could all feel it. Was someone dying? Did someone lose a job?

No.

My mom had made a choice that week, a choice that had the effects of a nuclear bomb.

She was leaving my dad.

I was so confused.  Months earlier, I had caught them kissing like teenagers on the 4th of July. We were a family, you can't just give up on family.

I wanted an explanation. But the only thing I got was excuses.

I remember not wanting to leave their bedroom, I knew once I did- it was true. I knew once I left I had to tell Reese that my parents were getting a divorce. And that would make it real.  If I stayed I the room, it couldn't be true, right? The logic makes no sense, but nothing that day made sense.

Eventually I did leave. I said goodbye to my siblings as they loaded their families in the car, and as much as I wanted to get out of there- I didn't want my happy family gone.

I was a walking mess the next few weeks. I did the bare minimum, which was take care of Ruby. Those weeks, I don't remember very well. I quit facebook, and hid in my house. I remember Reese coming home one night, and Ruby was in an unbuttoned onsie, covered in food, with a messy face while I was sitting on the cluttered living room floor. He picked her up and went and changed and cleaned her up, cleaned the house and then came and took care of me. Later that night I started laughing- and when laughing I said " Today sucked" And he started laughing too, he said he knew better than to say anything about the house, and about Ruby. He took care of me, and lets face it, I needed it.

I only told a few people about the divorce. And by a few people, I mean by best friend and my in-laws.

I hated telling people, no one knew how I felt. Marriages end all the time. But 36 years of marriage just doesn't end. Marriage is very sacred to me, it isn't something to just give up on. No one knows what family means to me. No one understood, no one said the right things, so I didn't tell people.

 I have never posted it on Facebook, and when people I run into say "How's your mom and dad?" I just say fine- to avoid talking about it.

And when I do talk about it, I make uncomfortable jokes, and try to rush the subject along.

All I wanted was an explanation. A reason. But when I got one- I didn't like it. My mom had left my dad for another man.

It has been a year.

I thought it would be easier by now. And in some ways it is, and in someways it isn't.

Relationships are left broken, and things will never be the same. I will never have the happy family I once did outside of my home.

I don't know how this post will go over in the end but I am sick of hiding my feelings to spare feelings of others. I am sick of hiding behind a mask with a smile while I am really crumbling on the inside.

My childhood home now belongs to someone else, my relationship with my mom is rocky, my dad lives in an apartment, we don't get together like we used to as a family, Holidays suck, and I am left broken and angry.

Satan is powerful. He is out to attack the family unit. He wants to destroy marriages, and relationships between family remembers. And in my families case- he won. He found a weak spot and took advantage.

I have heard everything happens for a reason, but this happened because of bad choices. But I know that my Heavenly Father will help me grow and learn from this- it is just hard to see sometimes through the fog.

So there it is, my secret is out. I feel like I am airing my dirty laundry, but at the same time I feel free. It is has been a year, and it is my time to heal. To heal, to forget and forgive and move on. I need to do it for myself, and for my family.

Behind all of those sweet pictures of my little girl on Facebook, behind those pictures of our house remodel, or funny pictures is a broken girl. I would like to pretend I am strong, but sometimes life gets the best of me and now I hope I can share with you all my sucky days, without the fake smiles or the uncomfortable jokes- just me, being real.


**Other stories will be posted this week from some other wonderful ladies who are helping me out- so keep checking back**