behind the scenes

On a lighter note... A good conference session wouldn't be complete without delicious food to go with it! We were out of most ingredients, so I had to get creative. Luckily this puff pancake is simple and a crowd pleaser! It grows up the sides of the pan and leaves a big crater in the middle, so in our house we call it a dinosaur footprint. Emmett gets so excited when we turn on the oven light and see how big it's grown.

Add a little fruit preserves and powdered sugar and you're good to go!

Later that evening we made another of Emmett's favorites - "Brownie cupcakes"

These are made with the Ghiradelli mix you can buy at Sam's Club. Heavenly!

Like I said.... one of Emmett's favorite treats

I can't look at these pictures with my mom's favorite Wanda Lindstrom song playing in my head!

"Tiny fingers caked with frosting,

and a wide grinning face,

didnt know what I was in for,

when he asked for a taste

But I'll never forget,

how you were way back when,

cause my heart took a picture then"  <3 p="">

Forgive his red, swollen eyes, poor guy was sick this day

After we stuck our brownies in the oven, we worked on our dinner - Mango Chicken

Are you wondering where Jared and Tate were during all of this?

Wonder no longer.

In Jareds favorite chair of course! Where else? Haha.

This is Jareds "look at this cute baby" face. :)

All in all it was a great, uplifting conference! How was yours?

the broken vessel

I was really excited for conference this session, I love hearing what messages the prophets are inspired to deliver to us. I was particularly touched by Elder Holland's talk "Like a Broken Vessel". He spoke to those affected by depression, or suffering from any mental ailment really, but on a level that applied to every single one of us.

After Emmetts tramautic birth, I suffered (still do- though thankfully not as bad) with anxiety/post traumatic stress.We've already discussed my horrific surgery, which was just the tip of the iceberg.  My mind was placed on such a high alert, where it feared for life or death (for Emmett) on a daily (hourly) basis, for an extended period of time. It hit a peak one horrible, heartbreaking afternoon where I witnessed him stop breathing and his heart stop. I sat there not breathing myself, as an entire team surrounded his bed and miraculously resusitated him. His nurse described it as "pulling him back from heaven by his toes." I had never in my life felt so much gratitude, but the blow left me wounded. I couldn't stop crying for hours, and from that moment my brain was constantly preparing itself for the chance it happened again. This intese, wracking worry never ceased for the 96 days he was in the NICU. And when he came home with oxygen and monitors, my mind stayed in hyper-mode.

 A year later, when all traces of the NICU were gone, and my mind couldn't pull itself out of panic - I knew I needed help. The mind is a tricky thing, and one major contributor to my anxiety was blame. I felt horrible watching him suffer through countless situations, knowing the reason he was there was because my body couldn't keep him inside. I wondered if I could have changed anything. I had a deep rooted fear that something out of my control would come and take him from me. At this point it wasn't just fears related to his breathing. It was ANYTHING that posed a threat to him. I still fight this fear off.

Elder Holland described it so well:

"The Book of Mormon says Ammon and his brethren were depressed at a very difficult time,² and so can the rest of us be. But today I am speaking of something more serious, of an affliction so severe that it significantly restricts a person’s ability to function fully, a crater in the mind so deep that no one can responsibly suggest it would surely go away if those victims would just square their shoulders and think more positively—though I am a vigorous advocate of square shoulders and positive thinking!

No, this dark night of the mind and spirit is more than mere discouragement."

I never told anyone this. It took me probably almost two years to even tell Jared. I kept hoping it would go away, and wasn't sure if the fears I had were normal "mom worries". Aside from that, I literally could not talk about it. I couldn't even THINK about it. My mind had taken those six months of my life, boxed them up, and buried them down far enough that they wouldn't hurt me. To try to touch that box was too painful, too much for my mind to tolerate. So it just sat there, the walls around it growing thicker and thicker.

Choosing to talk to someone about it was one of the best things I've done. I'm proud I forced myself to open the box back up, no matter how painful it was. The very first time was like pulling teeth but it got easier and easier and I actually came to look forward to it.

Elder Holland went on to say:

Though we may feel we are “like a broken vessel,” as the Psalmist says,¹⁰ we must remember, that vessel is in the hands of the divine potter. Broken minds can be healed just the way broken bones and broken hearts are healed

What peaceful, comforting words :)

I have mentioned more than once on this blog what a trial of faith my second pregnancy was. Now you understand a little more fully. I was willingly placing myself back in the situation I had buried so far away. Facing down the demons that still haunted me. And still, my BIGGEST fear was the same it had always been: something out of my control (pre-eclampsia) hurting Emmett (this time by taking me from him). Though chances were small and I was in good hands, I couldn't bear that thought.

Elder Holland included a quote from a talk given by President Monsen.

“That love never changes. … It is there for you when you are sad or happy, discouraged or hopeful. God’s love is there for you whether or not you feel you deserve [it]. It is simply always there.”⁴

If anyone reading this feels sad or discouraged, I hope you know you are not alone. We are never alone, even in our darkest moments. That is one thing I've always been sure of.

tate the great (part 2)

Luckily I had decided his name moments before being wheeled back. We had been deliberating between three names, and before surgery I told Jared, " I think he should be Tate Farrell". Farrell is my middle name, which is a little unconventional for a son, but it is so fitting.

This pregnancy was such a trial of faith for me, and I grew so much (in every aspect!) in those 8 months. Not to mention I went through hell (maybe literally since we reached 118 this summer) to get him here! As i laid in my hospital bed, the chance of a future daughter to carry my name seemed to be slipping farther away, but this baby - he was mine. He was a product of my blood, sweat, tears, and unrelenting faith, and he was beautiful.

As the tugging started to get stronger, I knew the baby had to be close. I could feel the pressure and knew he must be close to the surface, but I hadn't heard any noise yet. I started to panic a little. Why didn't I hear crying? I looked up at the doctors to see if they were concerned, but they had their heads down and were working like a machine. Then it came: Tate's wonderful, beautiful little cry, announcing his arrival into the world. That cry is always the most emotional part. You hear your baby's little voice as he tells you hello for the very first time. "I'm okay mom! I'm here!" :-)

The doctors held him up above the curtain for me to see and tears flooded my eyes. He was a real baby! Still tiny, but just a miniature newborn, with a head of dark hair! I arched my neck and followed him over to the bed where they cleaned him up, checked his vitals, then finally swaddled him and put on his hat. A nurse brought him over for our first official introduction.

All I could do was stare. And smile. And cry. And stare. Then he was headed off the NICU. The last thing I was concious of was the doctors counting all their tools aloud (which kind of disturbed me a little). And then... I was out.

I awoke to little flashes of reality. The southern doctor was back and kept pushing on down hard on my stomach (ouch).

"Sorry baby, you're passing some pretty big clots. We need to stop the bleeding"

*back out*

This time an asian nurse that looked like Brenda Song (my sisters and all you Disney fans out there will know who I'm talking about!) was pushing down on me. She was also messing with my arm the IV was in, which was painful. So much for letting a wounded girl rest... haha. I looked over and saw Jared sitting in a chair next to me.

*back out*

I opened my eyes and saw Kirsten next to me this time. She had brought the diaper bag she'd finished packing for me. She said Emmett had been asking for me, and wanted to know if she should bring him back. I missed that little guy but was fighting the recovery wave and was not quite in condition yet. I could hardly stay lucid for more than 5 minutes. I looked down at my arm which I felt throbbing and saw it had been replaced with a giant, inhuman extremity.

"It looks a LOT better than it did", Kirsten said. "Your IV got infected."

Wonderful....

*back out*

Finally I was getting transported back to my room. By this time my family had arrived from Utah. They started driving as soon as they got word I was headed to surgery. Love them! I remember my Dad being there and telling me how good I'd done (funny, that was one of my first memories from last time too). And I remember Jared showing up with the one request I'd had when I was wheeled back to surgery. ("When I wake up I want a big snowcone from Bahama Mama's!") I could not have been more thrilled. I hadn't had a drink in forever (in prep for surgery) and that shaved raspberry ice tasted like heaven. Jared showed me pictures and video of Tate and told me he was doing well. I briefly said hello to the rest of my family and visited for a little bit before nodding off for the night.

*back out*

Next thing I knew my night nurse, a nice older german lady who introduced herself as Margarete. was waking me up. It was about 4 am. My anesthesia and pain meds had worn off and I was acutely aware of the slice across my abdomen. "I know it's going to hurt, but I have to get you up to walk around to keep the blood moving".  I don't remember doing this last time, but my gosh was it PAINFUL! I felt my recently stitched incision with every breath and slow, small step. I was determined however to heal as quickly as possible, and not be stuck in the hospital another week like I was after Emmett. I laid down proud of myself and drifted off to sleep.

I continued to get stronger each day. I was fighting off a fever as well, which had resulted from my infected IV. I made frequent trips up to visit my little Taters, who was holding up like a champ. I only had to wait one day to hold him this time as opposed to a month! It was wonderful.

Luckily since it wasn't sick season, the NICU visiting policies we not as strict as Emmett's stay. My Dad, Caysen, and Kirsten had to be back for school/work so they had to leave the next day, and my Mom, Kendall, and Kaity got to stay a couple more. I was so glad they all were able to meet Tate before leaving. 

There's something so special about introducing your baby to your family. You can see in their faces they love him *almost* as much as you. It's a really touching link to share the love of this tiny human, and finally understand the feelings your parents have about you.

By Wednesday August 14th, I was finally able to go home. Leaving the hospital with a baby in the NICU is always bittersweet. I'd been so antsy to leave and counting down the days, but I still started to tear up when we drove away. It doesn't feel right going home without your baby. You feel cruel leaving it alone, even though you don't have a choice. The mom guilt was already setting in and making me feel guilty that I was so anxious to go home and be with Emmett, yet I was leaving tiny little Tate alone.

Fortunately this time I was able to remind myself, it was a very temporary situation. It was only a matter of weeks (or so I thought at the time, but it ended up being days!) til Tate would be home with us. As I watched the hospital fade out of view in my rear view mirror, I was washed over by a wave of gratitude. Just as promised, it had all worked out. I was watched over. Tate was watched over. Emmett never spent a single second abandoned or alone (without family) , despite the fact that we live 10+ hours away from the nearest family member. I almost had to chuckle to myself. After spending nearly a year almost giving myself an ulcer, turns out Heavenly Father really DID have a plan. And I'm so glad I had the strength to follow it.

Cause it gave me tiny, perfect Tate.

tate the great (part 1)

Monday, August 5th I headed into my 33 week pregnancy checkup, not knowing it would be my last. My blood pressure had risen to 160s/110, and my doctor decided it was time for me to head over to hospital. Though I'd spent months and months losing sleep over what day pre-eclampsia was going to hit (we knew it was coming, but couldn't predict when), I still somehow felt devastated when it finally happened.

 I think part of me was holding onto the slim hope that it wouldn't rear its ugly head, or that I'd at least make it a few more weeks to 36.  I was forced to confront the fears I'd been battling on a daily basis: How long was I going to admitted to the hospital for? Hours? Days? Weeks? and who was going to take care of Emmett? Miraculously my sisters were still in town from the baby shower, but I knew they only had a few days left. What about after that? How was the baby's health going to be? Would it be long term NICU again? How could I juggle the NICU while being a mom to Emmett? And most importantly, but the one I tried to avoid... Was I going to be okay? Asking myself that question always resulted in tears.

I tried to pull myself together, called Jared, called my Mom, then ran home and grabbed my bag - which had basically been packed ever since 26 weeks- and hopped into the passenger seat so Kaity and Emmett could drive me down  to be admitted. Let's just say I am jealous of moms who get to experience that excited "my baby is coming!" feeling when heading to the hospital.

I was so grateful Kaity and Emmett were there while I was getting checked in (and that Emmett had fallen asleep on the drive there). Being seperated from him indefinitely was the concern weighing heavily on my mind, so it felt good to not be yanked apart so suddenly.

Once it had been confirmed my blood pressures were sky high, protein was in my urine, and the headache was setting in, I was immediately hooked up to Magnesium (to prevent me from seizing) and an IV. *Sidenote: My arm was SO swollen and tight, starting the IV was near impossible, and one attempt even resulted in a bent needle! After I was hooked up on all the goods, I was moved to my first room (in L&D). Basically when I sat up or laid in any position other than my left side my blood pressure was in the dangerous stroke zone. This resulted in me being forced to lay on my left side for FAR too long! Every time I complained the nurse just came and stuck another pillow somewhere. Since my cuff was set to take my pressure every 30 mins, whenever my reading was high I'd get reprimanded for not relaxing and being far enough on my left side. I love how they try to coerce pre-eclampsia patients in "relaxation". A bit contradictory!

Despite my less-than-ideal state, I had been deemed stable and the doctors advised me to hunker down and make myself "at home" for the long haul. I was a mess. The uncertainty of everything for an uncertain amount of time, was just too much to handle. I wanted to be at home snuggling Emmett, and it would just break my heart when he asked if I was going to come home. I had to make the decision the first night what route I wanted to go for delivery. I was excited about trying a VBAC (normal birth) in my appts, but being induced was intimidating on top of the situation. Especially because first time labors are generally long and induced labors makes it even longer. Yet, I still decided I wanted to do it. It had so many benefits and I was still traumatized from my awful c-section last time.

Things were more or less the same for the first few days. Just battling my pressures, headaches, and heartburn, and devastation of still being there!Jared, Kirsten, and Kaity were all rotating shifts at the hospital with me and at home taking care of Emmett.

The docs had moved my over to Antepartum, anticipating me to be a long term patient (when they try to tell you "antepartum is better, youre going to love it" dont believe them! lies! haha) At this point I was conviced I was going to be there for weeks.

This is the chair my poor visitors slept in

I asked Kirsten and Kaity to bring me a calendar for my room because I was losing track of the days

With pre-eclampsia, however, the tables can turn in the blink of an eye. That night I knew something was wrong. I kept telling my nurses, who didnt seem worried. I felt like since it was Antepartum and their patients generally weren't high risk, they weren't on alert. I was getting frustrated and requested to see doctor. Of course my doctor was off for the night, so in comes the hospitalist OB.

"What does it feel like?" she said.

 "It feels like pre-eclampsia. I've gone through this before".

(In her southern drawl) "Your numbers are stable, are you sure you're not just anxious because you don't want to be here? Anyone would be climbing the walls by now" (She signed herself up on my bad list real quick).

"No, something's wrong. I can feel it"

"I'm going to give you something for anxiety, and see if we can get you relaxed so you can rest"

Okay lady, do what you will, but this isn't my first rodeo...

When I awoke early that morning, I could hardly breathe. I felt like I was drowning. I called in my nurse who checked my oxygen saturation, confirmed I wasn't breathing right, and hooked me up on oxygen. Luckily my doctor was back now. Wahoo! He sent me for a chest x-ray which showed my lungs were indeed filled with fluid - no wonder I felt like I was drowning. Pre-eclampsia causes excess fluid EVERYWHERE. Clearly around your whole body (causing you to look like the Michelin Man), around your brain (which causes the incredibly painful headache), and eventually your lungs. The doctor informed me I'd be transferred back to Labor & Delivery where he'd induce me.

Hours later, I was back over in L&D but the pre-eclampsia had been escalating quickly. The blood pressure medicines were no longer controlling my pressure properly, even given intravenously. My doctor decided we didn't have time to try labor anymore, we needed to do surgery. Even though it was dissappointing, at this point I was relieved. I was in no shape to voluntarily bring on labor! I WAS terrified about surgery though. Just to remind you, I wasn't numb during my first c-section (Yes, they'd given me an epidural but started too quickly and it hadn't taken effect).

I asked if I could be put under this time because I didn't know if I could handle it, but no dice. The type of anesthesia they'd have to use was dangerous for the baby. So I had about an hour to psych myself out and wrap my mind around the fact that soon I'd be strapped down to the operating table again. That hour is the worst! I hate waiting for them to come get you! As they were wheeling me back to the OR, it felt surreal. It was such deja vu. How am I doing this again?! It feels like the first time was just last year. Am I crazy for even being in this predicament again?!

Poor Kaity was left out in the waiting area by herself and I'm sure she was a bundle of nerves as well. They didn't allow Jared to come in til I was all the way prepped, so I was wheeled in solo - scared as can be!

 I made sure the anesthesiolgists knew my history and they were awesome. I loved those guys. They were totally comforting and understanding. They assured me we were in no hurry and wouldn't start til I was nice and numb. One even hugged me and patted my back while the other hooked up my spinal block in the back. My back was so swollen it took him a few tries to get it inserted in the right place. When he hit a wrong spot I'd feel a really sharp, painful twinge in my leg, which scared me to death! Finally it was in and I was laid back on the table. Go time!

I was so nervous I was shaking like crazy. Finally Jared came in. "Hold my hand!" I told him, "Try to stop me from shaking". I just kept laying there, willing my body to shake as little as possible, and trying to compose myself. Finally I looked over at Jared nervously, "Have they started yet?"

 He looked over the sheet and back at me and nodded yes. "You can't feel that?", he asked incredulously.

"No", I said as my eyes filled up with tears. Thank heavens!!! It had started! And I didn't even know!! What a stark contrast from last time. I was so grateful I couldn't hold back my emotions. It was at that point I could finally turn my thoughts to the baby and say to myself "hey, this is exciting! You're about to have your baby! You did it!!!"


...to be continued :-)