So this is Maximus at 8 mths. old. Can you believe it? He is so cute and lovable.
I'm having his pictures taken in a couple of weeks and can't decide. Hair up? or Down? Let me know your opionion. You can also tell me if his hair just looks terrible, because honestly, I don't know. I really don't know what to do with his hair, because I've never had a boy before. So help me out people.
I know I've been lamenting the fact that I've been so busy lately. But this Christmas Break stuff, with no schedule is pure bliss right now. I'm sleeping in a little, getting my house cleaned at my leasure, my kids are playing and taking hour long baths. It's amazing! And the one thing I miss most is not having time for art projects anymore, so we decided to bust out the paints again yesterday. We made snowmen after the book Snowmen at Night. I was actually enjoying the moment and was present with the girls, which is hard to come by these days. Miguel said he's glad I do that and I enjoy it so much, because it's not his thing. One day I'll get him to join us, but for now, I'm glad he entertained Max for us.
And here is the final product!
Don't they look amazing?! I'm so happy with how they turned out.
My kids really are great artists!
It goes:
Julianne, Sophia
Mommy, Gabriela
Onto other randomness, here's Sophia baking a bazillion cupcakes for the neighbors. I'm a little remorseful that they didn't go as far as I would have hoped, so if you are a neighbor, and you're reading this, and you didn't get any....we are so sorry! I'll come up with a better plan next year so that I can get something to everyone I know. But we still love you! and they weren't anything special.
Here is Julianne after her preschool Christmas party. She's just the cutest little elf and she adores that elf hat. That's also the nice little gift she gave her Mommy and Papi! Have I said how much I love Patchwork Preschool. I've got a link on the side if you're interested.
And lastely, Max has mastered the art of hand balancing. He's gearing up for the big talent show. (Wishing that picture wasn't so dark)
We have had to get extra creative with Max. He doesn't like to just sit for very long, so during dinner one night, Miguel got creative and came up with this. It's crazy, but it worked.
Max really likes his baths and I realized that I don't have any cute bath pics, so here you go.
Love this expression!
We took Gabriela to her first BYU football game, and she was so excited about it. She felt really special and we told her it was a reward for her hard work at school and for doing her homework every night. With a score of 56 -3, she had plenty of opportunities to sing the fight song she has memorized. Papi even spoiled us with frozen lemonades and ice cream.
Yesterday, Julianne's preschool went to good ole' pumpkin patch. The kids had fun running all over the place and it was good for us to get out. Sophia was lucky enough to tag along. We love this preschool and their teachers.
I don't seem to be able to blog much, because I'm so stinkin' busy these days. Life just seems to have gone into overdrive. It's good, but I don't seem to have a spare moment to do any of the "I want to do's" because there are so many "I have to do's. " But I'm sure it's the same for all of us.
It's funny how much I'm trying to soak in this little baby boy. Perhaps it's because he may be my last. Maybe not. I haven't decided, but what if he is, and I didn't drink him in enough while he was little. I'm really trying to be present and take note. I want to remember his sweet face years from now. I want to remember how he just smiles and starts kicking when he finally sees me, or when I come in to get him up from his naps. Those are my favorite moments. And even when I have to get up in the night, I like to breathe him in. I love that baby smell . I like to rub his little head, and kiss him in that neck, no matter how much it smells like spit. I always go get one last look at him sleeping before slipping into my own bed at night. I really like this stage and hope it lasts a while.
But I also love my big girls. I love that they can play, and run around, and we can talk. I love watching them learn new things and to see them try things for the first time. Life is more fun, and it's like my sister in law recently said, you get to experience childhood all over again through their eyes.
Motherhood is a privilege. I'm privileged enough to get to share in the lives of my children each day. Some people would question why I have four children, thinking that it is far too many, but I can't imagine my life without them. Maybe we'll have another or maybe not, but now I'm just going to absorb the ones I'm lucky to have right now.
Sophia is quite the big sister. She takes good care of little Max and always wants to hold him. I think they will have a special bond. Besides, they are the two kids who look most alike. Grandpa actually calls Max "Sophio." I had to snap this picture this morning of the two of them before church because she was being so sweet with him. She sure loves that little brother of hers.
In our church, our babies get a priesthood blessing during our Sunday services. It is a special time for the family to gather and to present these precious little ones with a name and a blessing. Usually the father gives the blessing and asks our Heavenly Father for special blessings for this child. Miguel did a wonderful job and we were so happy to share in Max's special day.
Gigi made Max a blessing outfit and was her way of participating from so far away.
I have had this picture in my head since he was born and my wonderful neighbor and friend took these pictures for me. It turned out great. Max will make a wonderful missionary someday.
Isn't his sweet smile so cute!
We took these family pictures after church on Sunday.
These girls sure do love him.
Here is all of the Ruiz men.
Three out of four of them carry the name Alberto!
Alberto Sr. (Miguel's dad), Maximus Alberto, Miguel, and Alberto Jr.(Miguel's brother)
He is soothed by Mariachi music. I have no idea why.
And this is his touchdown pose. Or maybe his surrender pose. We're not sure what he's going for.
So how's life at one month. To be honest, it's a little stressful and today I started to feel some familiar feelings like I did when I had Julianne. It's mostly a feeling of being overwhelmed. It seems like everyone needs something at the exact same time. Meal times are especially trying. I'm trying to dish the kids some food, while Max is screaming bloody murder, and Julianne is constantly telling me that Max "needs me," but if I pick him up, she'll commence her "I'm hungry" tantrum and try to eat anything in sight. Their table manners are going out the window, because I'm usually nursing Max while they are eating and I'm not at the table with them. I remember the feeling of only being one person and that I just couldn't do enough to meet everyone's needs. I remember not ever eating because it's all you can do to feed everyone else and by the time you're done, you've just plum forgot to eat yourself. I remember feeling like a martyr.
Those are the exact feelings that drove me to do that pageant.
I've got to figure something out and regain some sort of self, because I don't want to feel like a martyr. I love my job as a mom and wouldn't trade it for anything, but I need to find a way to weather the next six months, and still find joy in it.
This all started on Friday. I woke up early that morning, took a good long walk at 6:00 a.m., mowed the lawn, showered the girls, showered myself, got something in the crockpot for dinner, went to my Mother's Group, did all the ironing, and washed all the clothes. Had a pretty darn productive day. That night, we were hosting the babysitting group and so I had nine children at my house. I let Miguel tend to the kids in the backyard while I was putting away laundry. Suddenly I realized my water had just broken at around 7:30 that night. I calmly called Miguel in and told him what was going on and that we should start making some phone calls. I called Rachel, my doula, and then called my OB, both of which told me to go to the hospital so I could start my antibiotics for the GBS. We called the kids parents and they came pretty quickly to pick up the kids and I calmly finished packing my bag. It wasn't really a big deal, because I wasn't having any real contractions at that point.
Once I arrived at the hospital, we went upstairs to the Labor and Delivery floor. I told them my water had broken, and they asked me if I was sure. I told them I was pretty darn sure, so they led me to a room and asked me to change. Once I came out of the bathroom, they had discovered that I was a VBAC after 3 and then changed my room to the one next to the operating room. They then proceeded to check me in, get us banded, and start my IV. They nurse was really nice who was with us that night. She had called Dr. Parker and he had said to call him once I was in a regular labor pattern. He gave me until to get something started. So it got pretty quiet after that. Miguel and I just sat there in the room hoping something would happen. I got my GBS antibiotics going and we just sat there. I wanted to go to sleep because I was so tired by that point. It was probably by then. Miguel was over there in the chair reviewing and proof reading documents for Prime that had to be submitted the next day. The next thing I knew he had roped me into proof reading, but after a while I was just too tired to do it. I did however have to go to the bathroom every five seconds because of the amount of fluids they were pumping through me. I was mortified however to find that every time I stood up, I was leaking amniotic fluid. I’m much too sanitary to have that happen and vowed to stay in the bed instead of walking around. (in retrospect, I should have asked for some underwear and pads). I wondered how women labored naturally and did all of the things I had heard about when they are dripping fluid everywhere. I thought it was gross.
Around 11:30, I had the idea to start my nipple stimulation again. I knew I had a limited amount of time to work with and I also knew that that had given me pretty good contractions in the past. So I started it up and, lo and behold, you could see the contractions on the monitors. After a while, the nurse came in and asked what I was doing, because it had gotten there attention out at the desk as well. So I decided to keep it up and work through them and by midnight, Dr. Parker had shown up. He said to keep doing what I was doing and hopefully my body would kick in and take things over. He said he would go sleep and come back around 3:00 a.m. to check me and put in the internal monitor. Miguel eventually passed out on the couch and there I sat, inducing my own contractions, and trying to cope with the pain. I only sat up in the bed. It was too painful to lay down and I would just breathe through them.
By 3 a.m. I was producing contractions that were about two minutes apart and were peaking at around 70-80. Pretty intense for me. Miguel kicked in as the cheerleader and would tell me when the next one was coming would get more excited the stronger the contraction was. I just tried to manage it the best I could, but I kept thinking about everything I had read about natural childbirth and according to that…I was not coping well. In my mind I had convinced myself that if it was hurting, I was not coping with it well and I was doing something wrong. Such a false thing to think. Looking back I should have called Rachel, my doula, and had her up there during the night, but I’m too much of a people pleaser to keep her up all night. She probably would have helped me get out of the bed and I’m kicking myself now for not using her during the night.
When Dr. Parker finally came back I hadn’t progressed at all and in fact the baby was up higher than before. He was posterior and I hadn’t dialated any further. Pretty much I was the same, if not worse, than before. So discouraging. By now I’m exhausted. If I quit the stimulation, my contractions would die off completely. Dr. Parker said he would be as patient as I was and that we really had an 18 hour time frame before the risk of infection set in. That meant I had until around 1:00 in the afternoon to get things rolling and show some signs of progression. After about 7 a.m. I was checked again and still no progression. I about died, it hurt so bad. Now every time the doctor walked in I wanted to get up and run. He suggested some more aggressive measures, namely a breast pump. I was desperate at this point so we got the breast pump hooked it up and there I sat for a half hour interval. It brought on painful, but consistant contractions. After a half hour I quit to give my poor boobs a break and then I tried it again. Around 10 a.m. the doctor comes back and wants to check again. I did not want to do it, but I also needed to know if any of this crazy stuff was working. This time he made me cry. It felt like he was reaching for my back bone, that’s how far back the baby was. I had reached my limit and I started to bawl. I felt so tired, uncomfortable, and didn’t know what to do. This was not how I pictured my birth experience. This was not glamorous, or spiritual, or serene.
Luckily at about this time, Rachel showed up on her own, bless her heart. I had no idea how great it would be to have her there and am so glad she decided to come. She was great to talk too. She wasn’t on the nursing staff and she was there to help me process what was going on and offer advice and suggestions. She sat and rubbed my feet while I expressed what was going on in my mind. Everyone was suggesting I take a nap and rest, because I was too exhausted and was going to wear myself out before anything major happened. I kept blowing off the idea, because I just wasn’t comfortable enough and was too emotionally upset to relax. The doctor finally suggested the epidural to help me relax and after some to think about it, I thought that would be the best way to go. If this ended in a c-section, at least I would already have the epidural and if I started to progress, at least I would be comfortable and maybe get some rest. Man, once that epidural was placed I was a whole nother woman. I wanted to kiss that man. After spending over 12 hours in discomfort, it was such a welcomed relief. Everyone left and I was left to rest. For some reason, I was still carrying so much tension in my upper body, that it was hard to sleep. After about an hour, I decided to get the show on the road. I got the breast pump back on and sat there like that for an hour. Wasn’t pleasant, but it got things moving again, or at least I hoped, and I wasn’t feeling the contractions. It is probably around 2:00 by this time and the doctor came in and told me that, honestly, I had given it a good try, but my body was just not going into active labor. There wasn’t really anything else we could do. He was willing to be patient if he saw signs that I was doing anything at all, but it had been so many hours and there was really no results. But he left it too me. After sitting and thinking, and talking to Rachel and Miguel, I finally came to terms that this was not going to work out for me. I was not going to get the VBAC. Apparently all the nursing staff was just waiting for me to quit and probably wondering what was taking me so long to throw in the towel.
Once Dr. Parker came in again, I was ready to give the consent, but he decided to check me one last time. And can you believe, I was a 4, and the baby had come down further than he ever had! There was progress! I was on an emotional rollercoaster. The Dr. looked at me in surprise and said that that was good, but we all knew I couldn’t sit on the breast pump for the next six hours. I was already bleeding after an hour. So what to do now? He brought up the idea of using pitocin. It is pretty much forbidden, because of legality issues, but he said he was willing to use it if I was o.k. with it. I said, heck yeah, and he said he would go talk to the nursing staff to see if they would be willing to turn their heads. You see the use of pitocin is forbidden because it can increase your risk of uterine rupture, but it would do the same thing the breast pump was doing, only save my poor nipples. Unfortunately he said the nursing staff liked their jobs too much and wouldn’t consent to it, so I really had no other choice than to go ahead with the c-section. I had given it all I could and done everything I could and it just wasn’t in the stars for me. I got dealt a rotten hand and tried to play it the best I could.
So at , Max was born. Right on his due date. That only happens 5% of the time, you know. They did make special arrangements for me, and Miguel and the baby were allowed to stay with me during the entire procedure, all the way till the final stitch. Usually they get rushed out to the nursery. So while I’m being sewed back together, I was able to smell and kiss that sweet baby. I was so exhausted that I kept telling everyone that I was going to pass out on the operating table. I could not hold my eyes open for the life of me. The c-section was odd in the sense that I could feel my legs still. I’ve never had an epidural or spinal that still allowed sensations in my legs and feet. It was a little freaky knowing that they were cutting me open and I was only totally numb in my belly. After the surgery, I was taken back to my room to recover and Rachel was there waiting with warm blankets to throw over me. They brought the baby to me and put him on my chest, but honestly, I couldn’t even hold him right. I don’t know if it was the drugs or exhaustion, but I just couldn’t hold him. And wouldn’t you know it, right at that moment, my girls arrived with my sister in law and husband. I wanted them to be there when they brought the baby out and have this great moment as a family, but I think I passed out for most of it. When I see pictures of Gabriela holding him, I really don’t remember that at all. The girls did bring me flowers which was cute and I’m so glad I had people to look after them. I eventually had them all go to the nursery with the baby to watch him get cleaned up and bathed. It was all just too much at the time. So now it was on to the long road of recovery for me.
So what do I think about all of this, now that I’ve had time to think about it? First, it is not what I planned or had envisioned. It was not glamorous and didn’t fit the protocol of any of the birthing books that I had read. I was prepared for natural NORMAL labor, but that’s not what I got. I feel like I really prepared and went out of my way for two to three months, just to end up right back where I started. It has made the recovery harder emotionally. I did not want to go through this again. Secondly, I’m frustrated with our medical systems in the sense that a hospital and nursing staff have more say than the doctor and the patient. I think we could have done it with the pitocin. If I’m willing to take the risk and the doctor is willing to put his neck out like that, who by the way, has delivered more than 7, 000 babies, then why the heck won’t they let us try it. It’s just crazy to me. I guess in the end, I’m just disappointed. I am grateful that the baby is super healthy and that I am recovering, even though it feels like it’s at a snail’s pace.
I will post my birth story when I can get off the meds and try to wrap my mind around what happened. But we are grateful that everyone is healthy and well and that we have our little baby brother with us finally.
"Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention to arrive safely in a pretty and well-preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming: Wow!! What a ride!"
"Family is the nest in which the soul is born, nurtured, and released into life."
