Getting Caught Up: Nora's first night home

Sweet Nora is now a month old. The time sure has been flying by. But the first night we brought her home after she was born was certainly one of the longest I can ever remember.

Dan and I were expecting a long night. Babies need to eat often, don't understand the difference between day and night, and are generally getting used to living outside the womb. We knew neither of us would be getting a lot of sleep for the next few weeks, beginning with that very first night.

Taking care of sweet Nora ended up being the easiest part of the night.

While were were still in the hospital, four-and-a-half year old Lana got sick. This wasn't a simple cold, it was a full-on craptastic stomach bug that had her throwing up pretty much every hour. Poor Lana couldn't even keep down the tiny sips of water we were allowing her to drink. She stayed in bed with the puke bucket close by, and when Dan or I would hear her heave, we'd go comfort her, wipe her face, and clean out the bucket. I also was the sole meal provider for newborn Nora, so sometimes I would go directly from feeding the baby to helping the big girl. We went through a lot of hand sanitizer that night as well as Lysol wipes. Whatever bug had gotten Lana could not be allowed to touch the baby.

At about 2:30 am, Lana's puke bucket contained traces of blood. That was it - I was done. Regular puke I can handle, bile-y puke I can handle, but bloody puke is completely and totally outside of my skill set. When Dan heard, he immediately put on his shoes and readied himself to take Lana to the emergency room. (The same ER we'd visited weeks earlier after the car wreck.) Dan encouraged me to finally get some sleep. Ha! The last thing I would be doing was sleeping. Between a new baby needing fed and my extreme worry about Lana, sleep would not be happening for me. Fervent prayers happened, constantly checking my phone for an update from Dan happened, crying happened, and taking care of Nora happened, but sleep most certainly did not happen. We started out that evening hoping the new baby would get some sleep, and as it turned out Nora was the only one in the house who indeed did any sleeping at all.

Updates from Dan did come in. Poor Lana was subjected to three different nurses poking her unsuccessfully to find a vein. She was still throwing up and they tried to give her anti-nausea medication. She couldn't make enough saliva to dissolve the tiny pill and they helped out by dripping small drops of water on her tongue. Eventually she was able to keep water down, and later still a popsicle. Five hours after their arrival, Dan and the ER docs felt confident enough in her recovery to let Lana come home.

Lana was weak and tired (she hadn't slept all night either) and was whisked away to bed for the next two days. Those two days were rough on us all. Lana wanted extra hugs, snuggles, and care from Mommy, and Mommy needed to be taking care of the new baby. There were times when Lana would walk by me nursing Nora and burst into tears. Even when Dan or I would engage her in play or conversation, Lana was melancholy and constantly near tears. Her ill body was healing, but we didn't know how to bring back her sparkling personality or happy, enthusiastic demeanor.

Slowly the Lana we know came back to us, and eventually she even decided to like her little sister.

(Lana is quite happy she and Nora have matching jammies and can make silly faces at each other - a far, far cry from how she felt a month ago.)

I joked with a friend right after Lana got back from the hospital that one day I'd look back on Nora's first night home and laugh about it. A month later and I'm not quite laughing yet, but give me a few more months and maybe I will be.

Getting Caught Up: Welcome Baby Nora!

I started going into labor on Christmas night. (I think my body knew I really wanted to get through Christmas before having the baby, and just breathed a giant, baby-sized sigh of relief.) I got out of bed and paced, then went back to bed and tried to get comfortable. Contractions were sporadic and not all that painful. The next morning, they seemed to have calmed down, so I went to work. I worked all day, with the contractions slowly getting closer together and increasing in pain and intensity. I knew this baby was coming soon, I just didn't know how soon. I was also really grateful that most of my co-workers took a vacation day on the day after Christmas and didn't see me cussing under my breath when a contraction was particularly painful.

After work I picked up Lana and we went home, my contractions getting closer together and more painful on the drive home. Dan wasn't home yet, and while I waited for him, I set a timer. Yep, contractions were now five minutes apart and some were don't-talk-or-I'll-punch-you-in-the-face painful. It was time to get to the hospital. We dropped Lana off at Dan's brother's house for cousin time (I think she was more excited for that than getting a new baby) and we (finally) made it to the hospital. I'd called ahead and the nurses had my room all set up and ready. It's a good thing they did, because things progressed quickly and baby was out in near-record time.

We were pleased and proud to welcome Nora Johanna Lenssen to the world!

Big sister Lana was excited too.

Lana even "helped" the pediatrician give Nora a check-up.

Dan and I have been getting used to having two daughters. So far, it means someone always needs something, usually RIGHT NOW.

Oh, but look at this sweet face! Those pouty lips make me swoon.

And those piercing eyes make me wonder about what she could possibly be thinking.

Welcome to our family Nora! We can be an odd bunch, but we love you and embrace you always. We do lots of hugs and kisses and lots of "I love yous" and lots of snuggles and tickles. We forgive, laugh, and keep on trying. We love you so much and are so glad you're here!

12 on the 12th: January

(In 2013 I turned the focus of my posts away from the here-and-now. Because our family is growing and changing (Hello baby Nora!) I think it's important to remember what we're doing right now. So every month I'm going to post 12 pictures of what's going on with our family.)

So far, 2014 has been about the new baby, visiting with grandparents, snuggles, big sisters, and getting a new car. Happy New Year!

Getting Caught Up: Christmas

Usually in December Christmas is the highlight of the month. And for us it was definitely fun and meaningful, but got a bit looked over with everything else we had going on. All our busyness and my tiredness certainly didn't dull the excitement of a four-year-old Lana.

Lana is at the prime Santa Claus age right now, and she had a million questions about the man in red. How would he get into our house without a chimney? How can he go to every single house in one night? Will he know what I want? Between Dan and I, I think we answered her questions fully, but in a vague, non-committal way. She was also very clear on the fact that we celebrate Christmas because it's Jesus' birthday, and Santa Claus and presents are just a side bonus.

On Christmas Eve we had a big dinner with my parents. We traditionally eat a prime rib roast and I was nervous and scared I wouldn't make it perfectly. I breathed a sigh of relief when the meat was tasted and it was a delicious, flavorful, and tender as I'd hoped.

Our family was invited to light the Advent candles at our church's Christmas Eve service. Fortunately, we didn't burn anything down and all the congregation stayed safe and burn-free : )

Christmas morning arrived, and much to Lana's delight, Santa Claus indeed visited out home. Lana was showered with a bevy of princess-themed gifts, as well and clothes, and books.

We all enjoyed having my parents spend the holiday with us, and Lana loved the extra attention from Grandma Cindy and Grandpa Bear.

Lana has loved snuggling in bed every night with the new flower quilt my mom made for her. My mom worked for months to make quilts for all her grandkids. What a special thing to do for all 5 of the kids. I hope they treasure their quilts always.

I told everyone who asked that I just wanted to wait until after Christmas for the baby to arrive. Well, I got my wish and started having contractions on Christmas night.......

(I'll write about that next.)

Getting Caught Up: I Crashed the Car

(Beginning side note: I haven't blogged for over two weeks. Wee Nora has been keeping me on my toes, as have entertaining Lana and keeping the house relatively sanitary enough for habitation. Oh, and sleep, definitely what little sleep I can get has taken priority over blogging. Sorry about that. Actually, when I don't write, I'm the one who suffers most, so I should apologize to myself really. Anyway, we've had a few major events happen in the last month, and even if no one else ever reads this, I need to chronicle it all as a part of our family's history. I also know my time and energy are limited, so I'll break it up into different parts.)

So, yeah. I guess the title says it all. I Crashed the Car.

We're all okay and fine, but it doesn't change the fact that I Crashed the Car. Once it was turned right ways and hauled to the auto yard, this is what was left:

Fortunately, Lana, new baby, and I came out of the accident looking a lot better than the car.

For as traumatizing and  scary as the accident was, it really is a simple story. Lana and I were headed to town for work and daycare, the same thing we do on most mornings. Our rural road was clear and I drove on it per usual. However, after coming down a big hill, the clear road turned very, very icy. The car went into a skid, and I couldn't get slowed down or correct the course. The car went off the road and we ended up in a ditch upside down. Our car didn't have many bells and whistles, but it did have really good seat belts, and for that I will always be grateful.

Lana's carseat also earned a hero's celebration as it held up perfectly and protected our sweet girl to the absolute best of its ability. Lana was scared and screaming, but she got calmed down fairly quickly, and me keeping her calm helped me to stay calm. We were both hanging upside down and I was able to unlatch my seat belt and Lana's seat. However, I could not manage to open a door. I was about to call for help on my cell phone when a man yelled that he was going to try to open a door. From the outside, this kind stranger opened the door and freed us. He carried Lana up out of the ditch and I crawled out on my own, not recalling that I was 37 weeks pregnant until I reached the level surface of the road. Lana was in the man's truck, wrapped in a blanket and eating a lollipop. She seemed okay, but her head was bleeding a bit and she was still scared. I felt fine and just wanted to get Lana and the baby checked out. The man happened to be a volunteer fireman and had already radioed for emergency services. They arrived quickly and I called Dan.

I can't imagine being Dan and getting my phone call. I was sure to begin the conversation with, "We're all fine." But I suppose even that does very little to make a man feel better when he's called with the news that his wife, daughter, and unborn daughter have been in an accident.

Paramedics determined that yes, I was fine, but couldn't make the same definitive diagnosis for Lana. Her head and neck hurt, so she was put in a neck collar and strapped in a stretcher to take an ambulance ride to the ER. I rode along with her and ended up laughing more that being worried. Lana talked that poor paramedic's ear off. She asked a zillion questions about the truck, the instruments, and all about Mr. Paramedic himself. (His name was Andrew, by the way, and his favorite number is 5.)

At the ER, Dan stayed with Lana through her examination, including a CT scan, and I was sent down the hall for fetal monitoring. Prayers were answered and thankful tears shed when tests for both girls came back just fine. Lana had no neck injury and baby girl's vitals were normal as well.

Again, the car took the blows, and the passengers were protected. Thank you little Cali the Cavalier. You served us well and held up when we needed it the most.

Lana's sweet forehead got a bit beat up when she was showered with glass from the broken rear window. She got a few stitches and we smother her in scar cream often.

Sis-in-law Angela snapped this picture of our girl when she volunteered for Aunt-of-the-Year duties and picked Lana up from the hospital, got her a bath and lunch, and let her run around her house while Dan and I stayed behind for continued fetal monitoring. For as scared and banged up as she got, Lana quickly returned to her normal, happy, smiling self. It makes my stomach ill to know she had this horrible experience, but so glad that she's bounced back.

A few weeks later, (after Christmas, baby being born, and another trip to the ER - there's a lot to get caught up on) we got a new car. I no longer drive what I jokingly called a "high school girl's car" and now sport a Subaru Outback, aka my "Mom Car." I've only driven it three days so far, but really do like it. I just hope it takes after the crashed car and will protect us if we ever need it to. Although I'd be more than fine with never, ever getting in a wreck again.

Monday Memory: A Year of Mondays

I haven't been consistent this year with a lot of things. I didn't log as many miles running as I'd planned, nor did I break up the tacos-spaghetti-soup dinner routine we've been comfortable with. But I did crank out a memory every single Monday of 2013, and I'm kind of proud of that. Granted, some were short and sweet, but every week there was something recalled and written.


I've enjoyed this weekly walk down memory lane, and even compiled some of my favorites into a book I just gave my Mom and Dad for Christmas, but I know my limits and I know what I can and cannot do, and with a new baby, I'm not going to commit to weekly postings in 2014. (It's a funny coincidence how my due date lines up so nicely with the calendar, isn't it?) However, I still have stories to share and pictures to scan, so I'm shooting for at least one per month. I still want to tell you about 4-H sewing, the awesome rigs I drove in high school, making a game out of locking my brother and sister in the horse trailer, and dance class, so this series is far from over - it's just slowing down while our family adjusts to our sweet new addition.

I did think it was important to list and catalog all the post from 2013 in one place, and sort them by category. So, If you've missed a few, or want to recall a favorite, here you go:

Animals
-Tinkerbell
-My Last Livestock Show
-Cousins and Pigs
-Logan the Dog
-My First (and Second) Pig
-Bottle Babies

School and Sports
-The time I got sent to the Principal's office
-"That Place"
-The Baseball Years
-I was a High School Cheerleader
-High School Cross Country
-I'm with the Band
-Prom
-I Used to Play Basketball
-First Day of School
-Another First Day Pic

Family and Traditions
-Christmas at Grandmas
-Advent Calendars
-The Time my Sister got Hit by a Car
-Trick-or-treating and Taxes
-Grandpa Bud
-Washington DC
-Baby Sister
-Kids at Christmas and Lost Memories
-Poster Children for the late '80s
-My Blue Brother
-Sparklers
-Birthday parties
-Henry's Lake
-Our Mother's Day Tradition
-Nearly 4 years of Motherhood
-Billy Bob Teeth
-Sausage Makin'
-Incarcerated Kids
-Kiddie Pool in May
-Pie Eating Contest

Miscellaneous
-Hospital Stay at Christmas
-Glasses
-Cinnamon Toast Crunch and our Wedding
-The Silly Hat
-Dress Shopping
-The Lid Drawer
-Happy 4th of July
-Puking
-Epic Cake Smash
-Bad Hair Days 2
-My Last 1st Date
-Bad Hair Days 1
-Scenes from the Children's Museum
-Little Girls in Blue Dresses
-Wild Waters

Merry Christmas!

 

Monday Memory: Christmas at Grandma's

Christmas is in TWO DAYS! Yep, if you haven't bought it or cooked it yet, your time is limited, so get busy.

However, I don't want to write about the hectic and crazy Christmases that we experience now as adults, I want to hearken back to a simpler time, a time when Christmas just magically appeared. You know, those awesome Christmases when I was a kid.

On my Dad's side, I have 10 cousins, making 13 of us in total. And pretty much every year until I was 12 (when our nuclear family moved 500 miles away) we'd all spend Christmas evening at my Grandma Carol's house. This meant a horde of children would convene in my Grandma's living room and tear open package after package after package. The wood floor would become covered in discarded paper and bows. One year when my younger cousin Joel was only a few-month-old rolling baby, we actually lost him under the sea of wrapping paper. I remember an aunt or grandmother stopping the chaos so we could find the lost baby. Joel was, of course, fine, although he had rolled farther than we figured he could. I saw pictures of last year's Christmas at Grandma Carol's, and I was so very happy to see the joyful mess continues.

 

Merry Christmas everyone! I hope you take a minute or two to remember the carefree Christmas times of your childhood and do your part to create those same types of memories for your kids. As I am learning, they really do grow up so fast, and they will never be this little again.

Monday Memory: Hospital stay for Christmas

Christmas is only (gasp!) NINE days away. I still have shopping to do, a menu to plan, and oh yeah, a baby that could come at any time. I'm not stressing all that stuff though, because all that is peanuts and of little consequence. After the scare we had last week (car accident - I'll write about it later) I am grateful for the health and safety of my family and everything else shadows in comparison to that.

I am also reminded of a Christmas 28 years ago. I was only six years old and can't remember much about it, but I do know my wee, 4-month old baby brother spent it in an incubator in a local hospital.

 

(This is my baby brother, Kasey, being held by our Grandma Carol. He must have been on the mend when this picture was taken because for the first couple of days he pretty much had to stay in the plastic bubble.)


Shortly before Christmas Kasey came down with a horrible cough that turned into full-blown pneumonia. It's scary enough in adults, but downright terrifying in infants and small children. Kasey's case must have been bad, because I remember my mom taking him to the local doctor, and then directly to the hospital. I remember my mom and dad talking in hushed and hurried voices, probably trying to hide their fears from their six- and three-year old daughters.

I think I only got to visit Kasey in the hospital once, on Christmas Eve. I was a little scared to see my baby brother enclosed in clear plastic, but cheered to see his little crib festively decorated for Christmas. My mom explained that some of the nurses and volunteers had gone through and put up ribbons and bows on all the baby's incubators and Santa Claus came through and gave gifts to all the kids spending Christmas in the hospital.

Kasey was released from the hospital a little after Christmas, his lungs fully recovered. As far as I know, his Christmastime hospitalization had no permanent effects on his health. It does, however, serve as an important reminder that when we're asking for gifts, or writing out our wish lists, we should never fail to be thankful for our healthy and safe families.

Monday Memory: The time I got sent to the Principal's office

(Again, sorry for another Monday Memory with no picture. Not what I envisioned when I began this series, but this story is important and needs to be told. I trust you all to use your imaginations to fill in the visual details.)

Did I ever tell you about the time in middle school I was sent to the Principal's office for fighting?
I didn't think so.

When you think of me, as an adult, or as an adolescent, you probably don't picture me as a fighter. And really, I'm not. I appreciate being able to de-escalate situations and conflicts with calm and rational discussions, but well, sometimes that just doesn't happen.

I've previously written about my dislike of middle school band, and this story isn't about band, but occurred on the way to band class. The music building was actually located across the street from the main school building. The elementary grades were escorted over by a teacher, but middle- and high-schoolers were trusted to walk over by themselves. (Looking back on it now, how more altercations didn't occur, is a small miracle. Antsy middle schoolers + no supervision = disasters waiting to happen.)

The boys in my class were going through a "phase" (some call it a phase, I call it being jerks) where they thought it was soooooo funny to walk up behind a girl and snap her back bra strap. Many of the girls in my class were going through a "phase" (some call it a phase, I call it being ditzy) where they would pretend to be horrified, and then laugh and flirt with the boy who snapped their bra strap. I found the entire ritual to be disturbing and inappropriate. (Yeah, I was most assuredly NOT popular in middle school.)

While walking over to band one afternoon, I heard one particularly annoying boy rush up behind me. I quickly turned around and told him if he ever touched me or snapped my bra, I would hit him in the face. He laughed and said some degrading and inappropriate comment about me not even needing to wear a bra, so there wouldn't be anything to snap anyway. The entire class laughed at that and I felt pretty embarrassed and belittled.

We got to the band room and another, younger class was coming out. The annoying boy chose that moment to pull my back bra strap and snap it, so hard that the back clasp actually broke. I didn't think and just reacted by turning around and slapping him across the face, hard. The slap was audible and loud. The teacher escorting the other class out saw me slap the annoying boy and marched us both to the Principal's office. None of us said anything, and I really thought I was going to be in the biggest trouble of my short life.

I think I was called in to talk to the Principal first. I knew, I knew that I was right to be mad that a boy had touched me in a way I was not okay with, but I didn't know if the Principal would believe me or not, and I was sure I would be in trouble for fighting, even if the cause was just. The Principal just listened to me describe what happened and then sent me back to class. I passed by the annoying boy on my way out and noticed a perfect hand-shaped welt on his left cheek. I was silently proud of myself for hitting him that hard. He did not come back to class, that day, or for the next three days.

That evening at home I was gathering my courage to tell my mom and dad what happened, when they got a phone call. The Principal was calling to tell them what happened, but not to get me in trouble. Instead he was calling to assure them that he was taking this matter very seriously and that the annoying boy would not be bothering me any more, and all the boys in my class, would be getting a special "talking to" about their behavior. I think my parents were a little confused at first because I hadn't yet told them about what happened. When I did tell them, they weren't mad at all. They agreed that slapping someone shouldn't be my go-to conflict resolution strategy, but that this particular situation demanded it. They were also proud that I stood up for myself even though is was not the popular thing to do. I was instructed to let them know if anything like that ever happened again, because it was not okay, it was not funny, and it should not continue.

Well, my righteous indignation earned me zero popularity points in the school the next day. The annoying boy had been suspended for three days and all the boys were put off that they had to meet with the Principal about their behavior. I was pretty much blamed for ruining years and years of normal middle school fun. What I didn't understand then, or even now, is how this behavior had gone unchecked for so long? How had girls been putting up with this, laughing it off for all this time? Surely I wasn't the first who felt violated and uncomfortable when her bra was snapped by a gross boy. I couldn't have been the only girl in my class who wanted to walk to class and not be assaulted.

I didn't figure out the answers then, and I haven't now. I am grateful that our Principal saw the situation as more than girl-slaps-boy and really worked to get to the root of the problem. I know many schools (for good reasons) have a zero tolerance policy for fighting, suspending all involved regardless of the reasons behind the involvement, and I suppose I would have been punished alongside annoying boy if our school had that policy. But I like to think I would have done it anyway.

Lana Jean (and baby girl), if you're reading this now, know this; If you're ever in a situation that makes you uncomfortable and diplomacy fails, and your authorities are failing, handle it how it needs to be handled. If that means slapping a boy to get his gross hands off you, then slap him with all the strength you've got. Maybe just go ahead and punch him while you're at it. Yes, your school probably has a zero tolerance policy for fighting, but you let Daddy and I worry about that. If they think a sweet girl slapping a boy is a bother, just wait until they deal with that sweet girl's parents.