I'm so mad I could, and might just scream!

   I don't complain about much. Well, maybe I do, but I very rarely take to the web to vent my frustrations. I'll spare you the loud screaming, tantrum that my 2 year old threw when I had to take him into the North MS Pediatrics office in Tupelo this morning because he has been sick for a few days. He had gotten better by yesterday, but we were up with him all last night, hacking up his lung and throwing up at the same time, along with a fever.
   So this morning I whisked all three of my children, some still in their pj's, to the clinic before the early morning sick hours were over.
   Jim had to work out of town this morning and my babysitters were at school. So, Carrie Ann and Taylor really had no choice. Plus, I wanted to rule out that the muck in their eyes wasn't pink eye!
   We got there just in time and I was sooo impressed at how quickly they called us back to a room.
   Of course Andrew had a meltdown at the thought of having to stand on the scale to be weighed and his attitude only spiraled downhill from that point.
   I felt so bad for the staff. I had to weigh Andrew while the nurse held Carrie Ann. He screamed bloody murder.
   Then the nurse took a very light, very quick swab of the front of the inside of his nose. It's the first time any of my children had ever been swabbed, so I thought she did a great job, considering the fit he was throwing.
   While trying to get a swab of his throat, the doctor came in with his laptop, and wiped everything off the counter right into the trash, including the "swab" the nurse had just taken of his nose. I saw the nurse look, like, um...that was my stuff doc. What do you think you are doing.
   I was too busy trying to wrangle my squalling child, and keep a 1 year old off of the floor. The doctor said, I'll come back when he calms down. I didn't blame him!!!!!
   The nurse, reached into the trash can and took the swab with her. Um..........
   Had you been there, without a sinus cold yourself, not sweating and having had brushed your teeth, you would've had the cognitive sense to speak up.
   And honestly, I don't know that I was thinking about it at the time. My mind was too busy.
   When the doctor returned, he tried looking into his ears, listening to his chest, nose and throat, all without much love from Andrew. Andrew would not stop kicking him.
   The doc, rolled back on his little stool and repeated everything that I had told him already, congested, fever, mattery eyes, hacking cough. To him, it sounds just like the flu, but it's too late to give him anything. His ears are fine and we aren't going to do a strep test. No pink eye!  So, he'll probably have fever on and off the rest of weekend. If he starts having trouble breathing or wheezing, bring him back in because he could get pneumonia.
   At this point, I'm stressed to the max because Andrew is still screaming uncontrollably! But I was beginning to get frustrated because I brought him up there, went through this, to get answers. I don't blame the doctor for wanting to get out of there as fast as he could, I would have too, but he's a pediatrician, it's the nature of the job! The doctor stepped out and came back really quickly and stepped just inside the door and said, "Well, the flu swab is negative, but I still think it's the flu. So again, if he starts having trouble breathing, come back, but other than that, it's the nature of the flu. Oh, I forgot your chart, let me go get it."
  When he came back, I was gathering our things, with Carrie Ann in one hand, Andrew was sitting on the floor with his feet against the door. The doctor reached his arm in and put the yellow check out form on my bag and walked away.
   I thought, good grief! Are you serious? Goodbye, good riddens, never come back, please! Whew!!
   I can completely understand the doctor's frustrations, and his eagerness to get us gone, but can you see my frustrations as a mother, who has a sick child and feels the doctor could care less that something is wrong. I expect more than the status quo. I expect doctors to want to know what is wrong, I want them to want to know!!! I want them to find out!!! Rather than say, well it's not this, but I really "think" its this! I want a doctor to be completely satisfied that he fulfilled his role as a children's health care provider!!! Is that too much to ask of the person I am paying to check over the physical well-being of my sick 2 year old????
   I guess what I wanted was for him to want to find out what was wrong with my son as much as I wanted to know what was wrong with my son! That's why I brought him to a doctor.
   Now let's get started on that swab. As I was leaving the office, it hit me, OH MY WORD.... the "negative" swab was the same swab that the doctor swiped into the trash, and the same swab the nurse had retrieved from the trash can, and the same swab that she had brushed just on the inside of the front of his nose!!!!! YES, I'm serious.
   I don't fault her for not getting a better swab, Andrew thought she was trying to kill him and was acting partly in self-defense, the other part, he was just plain mad!
   I was boiling, I wanted to cry. But I was done. And I really didn't know what to do!
   I called my good friend, who is a pediatric nurse, and who has two small kids' that are my kids' ages. She  was appalled. She said a good, swab of the nose, should collect, not mucus, but membranes from the lining of the nose. And usually, when she gets a swab, sometimes the nose might bleed. I told her what happened. The whole dramatic story. Her advice, among other information was: Past behavior will represent future behavior.
   I have left a voicemail for the clinic's manager. In the meantime, I will never, and I absolutely, mean ABSOLUTELY NEVER use the North Mississippi Pediatric Clinic in Tupelo or recommend them to anyone, ever again.
   Is this how I should think, how I should feel? I'm beside myself with anger and dismay. I mean, what do you do in a case like this? Any suggestions?
This isn't the first problem I've has with this same clinic. Twice, I've had to wait longer than 2 hours to have my newborns seen for their 2 week check-up. Most clinics, whisk newborns in and out, as to avoid any illnesses being spread. The most recent, I waited almost an hour to get a breathing treatment for my son who was having chest retractions and wheezing. Then, when I wanted to purchase a nebulizer to use at home, they gave me the biggest most ridiculous fit for wanting to purchase it from a third party, because it was more than $100 cheaper! Then earlier this week, when I called to get an appointment for all three of my children to come in, the lady on the other end of the phone, scolded me for not having the same pediatrician for all three of my children. (Taylor and Andrew have the same, and Carrie Ann has a different one--{she had a tummy issue when she was born, the clinic gave me the doc on call, which I chose to stick with because he knew her from birth and really seemed to care!}) She informed me that was just not right and who ever had scheduled my children's appointments in the past had not made me aware of the "rules" that a family of children should all be seen by the same doctor!!!!! I asked her if she was getting on to me for choosing different doctors. I was then told that I didn't let her finish--that it wasn't my fault, but that they had newer help in the clinic and they had simply made a mistake! So, you mean it's like a sorority and this is my hazing? WHAT????
   I know what different care looks like, I couldn't believe the quality of care Taylor received from his pediatric office when we lived in Northern Virginia. Dr. Baldrate-- I really, really miss you and your office!!!!
   There's not many options in Tupelo when it comes to pediatricians. We stopped using the pediatric clinic after my 2-hour wait for Andrew's 2-week checkup. and began seeing a family practitioner. However, last summer, he and his family left for the mission field and I have yet to find good, quality care for my children.  HELP!!!
   I'll take your recommendations and your suggestions!

Christmastime

   My fondest childhood memories are of Christmas. My mama always made this time of year extra special. It was packed full of traditions.
   Our tree was always cut from the back pasture and never resembled a triangle. Colored lights and silver tinsel were our theme.
   We had the green porcelain tree that had a light bulb inside that beamed through the little colored pegs on the tips of the branches. It stood in the center of the mantle above the fireplace beside the mechanical Santa and Mrs. Claus. I don't recall ever having stockings.
   My dad still has the candle lanterns we always placed in our windows. You remember, the ones with the white bulbs with orange tips? I used to love going through the house plugging those in every night.
   Mama always seemed to be in a jolly-ish kind of mood from Thanksgiving, throughout December. I'd sit and watch her meticulously wrap every present. {I now do the same thing myself}
   She baked a lot. I don't remember a lot of the details, but everyone always requested her Rum Cake for bake sales and gifts. Her chocolate pie was out of this world. That's a goal on my list next year...make the perfect chocolate pie!
   On Christmas Eve every one of my siblings were there for supper, and their children too. It was great! The cousins would bring their significant others and friends, even unannounced sometimes. That was okay with mama. She worked at a hosiery mill and always kept a few extra boxes of socks in the hall closet. If you were a girl, she'd pull out one of her Southern Living items that she had stock piled in said closet!
   There was always plenty of food. We finally got to use the fancy dishes. 
   When they would begin to arrive at our house, my sisters and brothers in law would tell us that they had seen Santa in the sky, or that they had heard on the radio that he had taken off from the North Pole and was headed our way. I was the youngest person in our family. I ate the whole thing up. It was a fun, cheerful time. Not a care in the world down there at the dead end of Reece Road.
   And then, when the all the presents had been passed out, I would duck and peek, making sure that none had been forgotten under the tree.
   Then, the second wave of people would come. Daddy's side of the family. Our house was packed! It was great! They'd come for dessert and coffee. Then we'd do the whole thing again, I saw Santa here and there they'd say. He never seemed to be going in the same direction.
   Then, when all had quietened down and all the guests had gone home, I'd lay awake in my bed for what seemed like an eternity listening for the slightest foot step of the big guy in red. I was always so worried about him getting burned by the embers in the fireplace.
   Before I knew it though, it was morning! And Santa had indeed come and I must have fallen asleep because I never heard him!
   Christmas Day was just as special, just as fun. Not only did we celebrate the fact that it was Jesus' birthday, but it was also mama's birthday!  The family was all together again that day. And MORE dessert!
   Christmas 1992 was mama's last Christmas.  I was 11 that year. It's never been the same. There's been a void ever since.  Santa never came after that. If I had known then what I know now, I would have bottled it all up and poured it all out for my little family now. {I can't listen to Faith Hill sing "Where are you Christmas" without balling my eyes out!}
   We aren't usually at our own home on the actual Christmas Eve and Day, and so for as long as we can pull it off, there will be 2 of each of those days for my kids! We usually celebrate Christmas Eve and Day with our little guys {and gal this year}, ahead of time, before we head up north.
   So, tomorrow, Friday, December 17th, is Christmas Eve and Santa comes tomorrow night! And on Saturday, it's Jesus' birthday, and we'll treat it as such- with a great breakfast and a birthday cake!
   But Jim's mom, she's got it going on! We head up to northern Illinois during the holidays, where there is almost always a promise of a White Christmas! Jim's whole family is there.
    We are there for about a week and there's always something baking, coffee brewing and Christmas music playing on the kitchen stereo.
   And on Christmas Eve...we all head over to Jim's grandma's house, just like they have Jim's entire life {he's the oldest of all the grandkids}. This year, the final tally comes to 33. From 5 months to  86 years old!!!
   And they have so many traditions, I'm still trying to figure some of them out.
   On Christmas morning, Santa even comes and hands out all 19 stockings to those of us at Jim's mom's house. Then we have a breakfast that is out of this world. Followed by the gift exchange, in order from the youngest to the oldest.
   So for now, I'll pour out all I can for my little anxious munchkins, mustering up all the great memories and creating some of our very own.
   Christmas Eve, crammed in a tiny, hot, suburban home might not be all that appealing, but my children will remember every second of it, and love every minute.

From our family to yours, 

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year

from the Brown's

Growing like Weeds!

When I called my good friend Amanda of Reflections by Amanda Smith to schedule our yearly family pictures, the scenario in the above photo is exactly what I had in mind. 

I wanted to post it right over there to the right, just to show you what everyday life really does look like in the Brown household. 

I'm usually holding Carrie Ann, Taylor is always tugging me in a different direction and Andrew, he's usually being drug along, with his 'I hear you, but I'm not listening' attitude!

This little girl, who turned 9 months old yesterday, is still wearing 3-6 month old clothes and on this particular day, was all smiles and full of character!

This train track runs right through downtown Summit, Mississippi, where Amanda's studio is located. These two handsome guys could NOT wait to play on it. 

All I could do was cringe at how dirty those baby blue pants of Taylor's were getting.

If you look closely, you can see how they looked by the final pictured...UGH!!!!

BUT...

Taylor's Bebbi had this stuff...

And after a few washes and one treatment with Grandma's Secret Spot Remover...those pants don't have a trace of the railroad track anywhere on them! (You can get this at Hobby Lobby or Hancock Fabrics)

Her daddy makes her smile so big! 

This little stud muffin turned 2 this past July, and wouldn't crack a smile the entire morning. We had talked about it for weeks, he is used to having his picture taken by me all the time. He was just bound and determined to not let us get a single peep at those pearly whites. 

You always wonder what went into a photo session to get some pretty amazing results. This not only epitomizes this day, but pretty much everyday.

Amanda was dying to use some new props for her time with Carrie Ann. My typed words wouldn't do these next few photographs justice...

Amanda, thanks for all your hard work. You definitely have an eye for the perfect shot and never cease to amaze me with your skill and talent! Keep up the great job!

OBX or Bust

     Bright and early in the morning we'll load our entire gang up and head for the OBX. That's the Outer Banks of North Carolina! It'll take us 14 hours to get there. We plan to make the trip in 2 days, stopping at our beloved Hampton Inn and enjoying their free continental breakfast on Sunday morning. All the oatmeal Taylor can eat! He won't know what to do with himself!!!
     To be very honest with you, I personally could care less about the beach. Jim told me not to tell anyone that. But, I'd rather ride around the country in the car for a week than have to deal with all the sand, heat, loading and unloading. Plus- my kids are great riders. That's the one time Jim and I get to have long conversations in day light. Every Sunday night we load all 3 kiddos into the car for a 10 minute ride to Little Caesars. We can so easily tune out our kids when they are strapped in and aren't sticking their fingers in sockets or eating toothpaste. So while Jim has vacation-itis and can't wait to play in the sand everyday....I'm looking forward to the 14 hours of "seemingly" peace!!!

My Daddy

     Just got off the phone with my daddy. He turned 79 this past December. We talked for 40 minutes about the garden, vacant land, leaky gutters and tomaters. It's raining in Meridian today and he told me he was lonesome. He got up early this morning and went down to his garden and found two of his butter bean plants weren't doing well. He then told me he dug through the deep freeze and found some old packets of canteloupe seeds, so he planted them. Maybe we'll have some later this summer.
      My dad is a diabetic and legally blind due to macular degeneration. Daddy said his arms were all bruised up because he had been working on the belt of the tiller and he couldn't see to do anything. He reminded me of the tiller. I remember it. I remember exactly where it always sat in the dirt floor of the barn beside the house. It' red and white and I always thought it would be cool to be able to use it. Man, that thing has got to be as old as me! It wouldn't pass all the safety requirements they have these days for sure.
      He wants a new four wheeler and he was insisting I bring his old one up here for my boys! Don't even get me started on all the reasons that is a very bad idea!  He's had a rough couple of years, but I've been working on patching things up for him since last May.
     I've always been daddy's little girl and I guess I still am. He calls everyday to see how Carrie Ann is doing. I'm proud of him. He has finally started to call her by her actual name and not what he thinks it is or should be. He doesn't like her name. Daddy thinks I should have named her Patricia, because it's a pretty name. He says he can't see her, but that she looks just like me when I was that age. I'll take it!
     I could hear the swing squeaking. He was sitting on the front porch, listening to the water dripping out of the gutter. Said he was probably going to walk up to the neighbor's house and ask him to come take a look at it, because he can't see anything.
     Then he said, you know what I really want? What daddy, what do you really want? All he wants is some fresh rootabeggas, collard greens, butter beans and a pan of cornbread. Some good cornbread, he said. He said momma used to make them all the time for him and she just loved it that he ate them so much. He reminded me of all the fresh vegetables and tomaters that we'd spend all summer picking and storing in the deep freeze. I remember all the picking, shelling, blanching, canning, and pickeling. I even remember the sound of the pressure cooker, very vividly actually. Those were the good ole days to him. He said he couldn't see to cook any of it anymore and that the people who live with him won't cook it right.
     Yes, I am trying my darndest not to cry right now. It breaks my heart that he is not being taken care of in the ways that he needs. I go down to Meridian about every other week, just to take him to the barber shop and to the dry cleaner's to pick up his clothes. He has taken his clothes to the cleaner's ever since momma died. Said nobody can get them as stiff! Seriously, his blue-jeans pant legs can stand straight up! He's probably the only person in the world who takes holey, worn-out jeans to the dry cleaner's!
     We had to end our conversation when my two boys started jumping all over me and demanding attention. He said, okay, he just wanted to call and check on his little girl. He meant Carrie Ann. Told me to take care of her. I will daddy, I will.
   

Singin' in the Rain!

     Back, oh so long ago, before our little people got here and sleeping-in meant sleeping past 9 a.m., Jim and I ran out the front door of our house into the pouring rain. We laughed and frolicked {wierd word}, like little kids. I remember like it was yesterday. There's a certain smile you get when you do something that makes you forget every stress, tug and duty you have on your mind, even if it only lasts a few minutes.
     Sundays are rough. If you have little kids on eating and napping schedules, you know exactly what I am talking about. It all gets messed up. We always seem a little more stressed on Sundays than any other day. Just something about getting all, ahem, 5 of us now, out the door on time in pressed clothes and shoes, oh, don't forget shoes, hun.
     So last Sunday, when the monsoons came thru the South, I had a huge grin on my face when I told Jim I had a GREAT idea!  "After lunch, let's put on our swimsuits and go play in the rain!!! The boys will love it!" That smile I mentioned earlier, came across his face! Yippee!

It took Andrew a few minutes. His look is priceless.

Daddy helped him out a little!

Taylor decided to go feet first.

He doesn't really know what to think!

Here comes the frolicking!

And splashing...

Yes, I see it too!

And running...

Here's that look I'm talking about...

The poor turtle had a full load that day! He kept losing his shell.

We created fun, simple, free memories! And no one has come down with pneumonia...yet!

Fly home little Birdie

Remember the birdhouse that Grandpa Adrian helped Taylor make...A House for the Birds....well, we finally hung them out for the birds!!!!

Jim scoped out a branch.

The boys helped too!

Jim filled the birdhouse with birdseed.    

{He looks cute using a screwdriver!}

Look!!! Tweet, tweet...come on birdies....perfect little house just waiting for you!!!

We got a hummingbird feeder as well! Jim doesn't have much faith in it attracting any hummingbirds, so watch for those pics so I can make a believer out of him! ha!

Reality

For once she was happy just sitting
and I gave Jim a break from keeping
Andrew out of the drainage hole!

     Tonight I sat down on Andrew's bed as Jim was leading the boys in prayer. It's a precious moment that we love to do and hate to miss. We snuggle, give Eskimo kisses and ask about their day and any memory verses that we've learned. I sat there thinking, whew, this day went by fast, but boy was it so much fun! I don't want it to end. It was actually pretty normal for us, all but one thing...

     Our paths met in the bathroom. Just passing each other as we were both involved in separate tasks. Jim had gotten up early to run a 5K and had just returned and finished up showering. I had chosen to not attend the race, in fear of any drama or stress. Instead, when the kids woke up at 7:20, I fed them a quick breakfast and we headed out to watch the Hot Air Balloon race that we missed by like a long time...I misunderstood the brochure for the event, so since we were out, I took the kiddos-all 3- to Walmart for our usual...milk, bread and bananas! While I was there I also cashed in a gift card and got the boys a sandbox. Note to self: never let your kids walk through the toy section without first being strapped into the cart!
     I was headed to feed Carrie Ann and I paused...thought for a minute and looked up at Jim. I had missed his race. I never miss a race. Jim and I have been practically inseparable since we married 5 years ago. We have always done EVERYTHING together. I have always been at the starting line of every single race. We have a little kiss tradition that we do before each one. This morning he had slipped out quietly as to not wake me or the baby. I would go to different spots on the race route to see him and cheer him on. Once our first child came along, I continued to attend the races and began just waiting at the finish line. When #2 got here, I missed my first race. It was very sad. I've missed quite a few since then and I think it gets tougher with each one. {I know, I'm weird, but I'm Jim's biggest fan!}

I came out of the bathroom last week
and saw this amazing site!

     After returning from my errands, I had to feed Carrie Ann and get her peaceful so I could head out to an exercise class. Jim had decided he was going to take all 3, yes, all THREE, to the track meet at the high school.{{{{He did take all 3 to the track meet and I was sooooo proud of my macho man! When I questioned him about taking all three, he shrugged and said..oh, it'll be fine. I can handle it! Like it was a piece of cake! He gets major rock star points in my book today!!!}}}} It was weird. As I stood in the bathroom, I stopped him from whatever he was doing and said I had something serious to tell him. Something kind of sad. That got his attention! I expressed how sad it was that this was an inevitable point in our little family's existence! We were doing separate things. I knew this would come at some point, but I didn't know it would creep up on us like it did. I was taking the kids in the morning, he was taking them in the afternoon. I am sure some of you think this is very healthy and it's fine. Yes, I agree, but when I say we do everything together, I mean we do EVERYTHING together! We load up all three kids in the car to take a 10 minute ride to Little Caesar's to pick up our $6 pizza every Sunday night. We loaded them all up tonight after baths and in pajamas, just to get gas in my car! One night, right after Carrie Ann was born, I didn't take the ride for pizza-Jim took the boys, I kept the baby. He later told me that he missed me and enjoyed those little rides.

     When I got home from the exercise class, the boys had finished lunch and were watching a cartoon while Jim was tending to Carrie Ann. He handed her off to me to feed and for about 10 minutes we sat and talked...caught up on our day thus far...it was 1 p.m. and we were just getting to really talk. It was short because he was going to take Taylor back to the track meet during nap time to watch Jim's friend Max run.

     Finally...at 4:30...we met again in the garage....Carrie Ann snoozing and the boys playing in their sandbox in the backyard....we get in a hug and an I love you. For a few moments we ignored the chores we had to do and forced ourselves to connect and enjoy each other and to, together, go and enjoy our little boys.

    It was great. Just great. God has blessed Jim and I with so much...I don't mean materially, I mean, in our relationship and marriage, and sometimes, we get ourselves so preoccupied that we take that for granted.

     So tonight, after our pajama run, we tucked all three children in their beds, I made us some fruit smoothies and now, we are going to do one thing that we realllly love to do together...watch some t.v.!!!     

Our Family

These last two weeks have been fun, yet exhausting. But, I have had a very helpful little "Big Helper"---Taylor! He has been the best helper. I've taken this time to teach him that he is his brother's keeper. For instance, when his little brother sticks the Mr. Potato Head ear in his mouth {exact reason I don't allow them to play with these un-supervised} Taylor is quick to snatch it from him!

Or when Carrie Ann is fussing, he'll sit down in front of her and pile tons of toys on her to see which one it is that she wants.

 He's picked out every Barbie doll there is for her. When she got her Valentine cards from his cousins, he asked me what would happen if Carrie Ann didn't like princesses?

They like to pull their chair up right in front of her swing and "look" at her! Yah....I was washing dishes and looked over and saw the swing seat about to do a complete 360...They don't get to do this anymore! 

This is how we spent our Valentine's Day...relaxing!

  And this is what I ate!....well, not all of it...Jim got one piece!

Finally, I blog again!

     Yes, finally! I put a cake in the oven {for Jim, hehehe}, sat down to nurse the baby, the Daddy put the Middle Child down for bed, and played with Bigger Boy, while nursing...looked over at the Daddy, told him I missed My Lemonade Stand...funny---he said he noticed today I hadn't gotten to blog in week!
     The baby fell asleep while nursing, the oven beeped-cake is done. Yum, Nana's Apple Cake smells sooo good. Put sleeping baby in swing, put Bigger Boy down for bed, convince him he doesn't need a lamp to sleep. I return to the living room and I push the power button on my computer. Wow, haven't done that in a while. The Daddy retrieves the cake from the oven. I get all the dressings out for the cake- roast some pecans, cool whip, make some caramel topping, stuff like that.
     That little stinker of a Baby is awake and screaming...OH MY WORD... She has sucked me dry so I made her a bottle. I picked her up to find she had pooped. Upon further inspection, I see that her diaper failed and she's gonna need a sponge bath! Once cleaned, she drinks her bottle, burps and I hand her off to Daddy. I return to the kitchen to find my cool whip had melted on the cake...
    Melted, schmelted! That stuff was good! Wouldn't you know it, as soon as I picked up my computer, typed the word "Finally," and that Baby Girl would start suckling on her daddy's chest...OH MY WORD....I do remember something about a growth spurt around 2 and a half weeks...
     So, if you are wondering how it's going...well, my vacancy from the blogosphere should explain it all. This is it! It's going great! I'm being mommy and wife with very few distractions and very short to-do lists. I've been busy, to say the least, but it's been a good busy. So as I type this out, I have figured out how to rig this Baby Girl up on the left side at the same time...yes, I know...ever the multi-tasker!
     This Baby Girl has been my best nurser, which is great for so many reasons. One, being the best, most natural weight loss plan God ever designed!!! Only problem...all the desserts people keep bringing us! {Don't stop bringing them, oh no...I'm just sayin' is all} 

My Demise

Thanks Lori!

~~Sweet Carrie Ann~~

     I had every intention of writing this during my little mini-vacation in the hospital, but I didn't even turn my computer on until the day before yesterday. It's been a whirlwind this last week and by now, Carrie Ann is a week old. Here's how it all started out!
     Monday morning started like many other mornings over the last few weeks...waking up to contractions at an obscene hour in the morning, {3:38 on this particular morning, to be exact} timing them, and then finally heading to the tub to soak to see if they would go away. On this particular morning, however, they did not go away, they just slowed down. They were very sporadic, going from 15 minutes, to 6, to 3, then back to 8 minutes apart. By the time Jim was ready to leave for work, I felt awful, had straigtened up the entire house, made all the beds and had Carrie Ann's and my bags packed and sitting on the foot of the bed. As Jim put on his tie, I sat in the bedroom floor, folding a load of laundry and through tears, told him I was DONE! That I couldn't take not having any sleep, I was done with pregnancy, I hurt, I was miserable and I miss getting to be all that I could be to the boys. {sounds like an army ad!} I was giving up having painful contractions that seemed to me to be in vain. I had a doctor's visit scheduled for later that morning and I asked him if it was alright if I asked the doc to induce me if I wasn't in labor...seeing my bags packed and my pitiful self almost in tears, he abliged!
     When dropping the boys off at our friend's house, I cried as I drove away, thinking that I might not see them for the rest of the day. Low and behold...I really was in labor! See, not every pregnancy is the same! I had dilated to 2cm and had every other signal that labor had begun, so to the hospital I went! Nervous, anxious and scared to death. Doc told me not to go get Jim, go straight to hospital to get IV started and all the other drugs that speed along labor...Guess she was thinking I would go fast since it was my third baby to send down the shute.
     At 11:30 I got my IV...bunch of fluid the epidural guy wants you to have so you don't dehydrate or something. Then they started the P-tocin {sp?} At 12:30 the doc came in to break my water and from that point on...I wanted to die! Literally!
    I had to intake the entire bag of fluid before I could get my much anticipated epidural and I must say, it wasn't an easy-peasy wait like I had planned! To help me along in my pain, my nurse gave me Stadol...all I knew is that it was a narcotic, it would not take away the pain, but  it would help me not care about it.....All I got to say is...now I know how people can get hooked to pain meds....not sure why they would want to feel like that all the time, but oh my goodness was I so incredibly loopy, beyond the normal point.
     When the epidural guy got there, oh, was I ever glad to see him, he said...oh, we'll give you this such and such type of epidural...you'll go fast...third delivery...yah, gotta get it started quick...sign your life away right here and by the way, this is our student epidural guy right here, he'll be administering this such and such type of epidural today...okay, let's get started....Remember, I'm on Stadol...and thought I was dying....next thing I hear is, tell me if you feel a shock....ouch!!! I did! Oops, sorry, I hit a blood vessel. Oops? OH MY WORD....I know at some point I asked the student epidural guy what was taking so long...he seemed to be taking forever...he responded--you have some tough ligaments back here...Yah right dude...get on with it! We were great friends by the time the such and such type epidural began and I had forgiven him for hitting a blood vessel...I even had the nurse take a pic for you to see the student epidural guy's nice handy work! {really, thinking that this might be my last pregnancy ever, I wanted to make sure I remember it all}

     Finally, relief!!! I could relax!!!

     Ya'll this was like two hours after the doc had broken my water...in the mean time, I threw up, heart rates went up and down, a lot. I actually had to use that pink pan.

     As long as it was, I do have to say, it was one of the more relaxing sweet, deliveries I've had. There was just the doc and my nurse and just before Carrie Ann came, her own nurse came in. Then there was Jim, my friend Melissa and my mom.  Now, Melissa has a super duper camera and took some pictures to document this for me...I mean, she really captured the essence of labor and delivery! I am so glad I got my hand on the delete button before Jim saw any of the pics.  

     The star of the show took her own little time coming out. She was turned face up and when I began pushing at 5:30 p.m., she had no intentions of budging below some bone of mine.  When I had no energy or grunt left to push, the nurse and doc tied two knots in a sheet and we played tug-of-war...really...the nurse pulled one end and I the other with each contraction. I pushed every minute or so for like 55 minutes before the doc was able to get Carrie Ann turned face down and wouldn't you know it, once she was turned, she came out with only 2 contractions...go figure!

Beautiful, I know, but gross.

Carrie Ann Marie Brown, born Monday, February 1, 2010, 6:26 p.m.

7 pounds, 7 ounces and 18 inches long

 

 

 

I survived! 

And look a there!

 

We're home...today Carrie Ann is 1 week old, sleeping and eating well. My lovely varicose veins are taking their precious time leaving, with all that pushing and stuff, so I am healing, resting and enjoying my very blessed little family.

I was one of Dr. Turner's first patients here in Tupelo. I am so blessed to have had her deliver all three of my precious babies.

 

 

 

Thank you all for your prayers and encouragement throughout this pregnancy, labor & delivery and the time since. We covet more of your prayers as we enjoy this new glass of lemonade the Lord has made for us!