25 Minutes

I promised myself that when Baby Charlotte arrived I would get back to blogging regularly so as to document life's happenings as a mother of two. She's 5 days old and currently enjoying a milk coma, so I thought I would take advantage of the time to write about quite possibly one of the most terrifying and downright crazy nights of my life.

October 14, 2012

With our scheduled induction to take place Monday morning, Luke and I enjoyed a weekend of time with his family and a dinner date to Johnny Carino's. We visited a pumpkin patch with all the kids and took in the beautiful fall weather. We watched Notre Dame win and the Colts lose (a pretty normal combo this football season), and we tried to soak up as much time with our sweet Noelle as we could. We knew we were down to the final hours of being a family of 3, which was part exciting and part sad.

I wasn't feeling great on Sunday morning, partly because I was up from about 1-4 a.m. feeling a lot of back pain and pressure. Charlotte was very active and agitated, which prevented me from sleeping and causing me to question every little move of hers. I was finally able to get myself relaxed enough to sleep, but the restlessness took its toll on me and left me at home while Luke took Noelle to church with the family. It took me a few hours that morning to get up and moving, feeling sore and achey and more than a little whiney.

I managed to find enough energy to go out to Luke's parents' house for a bit. After a few hours, we were all exhausted and ready to settle in for our last night as just the three of us. We stopped to pick up a quick dinner at Noodles and Company and made our way back to our house.

It was about 6:30 p.m. and my tailbone was really hurting, so I decided to take a hot shower and see if I felt better. An hour later, I was already in bed and trying to kill the pain with a hot rice bag. After laying down for a while, I started to notice a little pattern in the spasms I was feeling in my low back. It did seem that they had a certain rhythmic timing-- starting around 6 minutes a part.

I had downloaded a contraction timer app on my phone a couple months back when I started having Braxton Hicks contractions all the time. What I was feeling on Sunday night were nothing that I recognized as contractions. After all, I have experienced true labor contractions before and would certainly know them when I felt them...right? Well, I was amused by the pattern of this back pain, so I started to log the waves of spasms in the contraction timer. By about 8:15, these "spasms" were getting stronger and coming about every 90 seconds to 2 minutes.

Then it hit me.

I was in labor.

Shit.

Luke would come in to check on me and I would be just a little more uncomfortable each time. Finally, he walked in on me rocking back and forth on all fours on the ground, and he knew it, too.

Panic hit me pretty hard as I realized that we needed to leave for the hospital immediately if we had any chance of having the baby in Indy. Luke's mom was due to arrive at our house to stay the night so we could leave for our induction the next morning, but she wasn't there yet and Noelle was fast asleep. As we were frantically throwing last minute necessities into travel bags and exchanging wide-eyed and panicky looks with each other, the pain began to get so intense that my main emotion at that point was fear. Fear that we wouldn't make it to Indy. Fear that we wouldn't even make it to Ball. Fear that I was going to have this baby in my own house.

I made a call to my mom and dad at 9:00 and told them to get to our house now because it was time. In the 5-8 minutes it took for them to arrive, we loaded the car and went back and forth with "Are we going to Indy or do we need to go to Ball?" As the pain and INTENSE pressure worsened with every minute, I told Luke we had to go to Ball. My parents arrived and we exchanged very few words. We simply got in the car and drove to Ball...the place I was avoiding throughout my entire pregnancy. I wasn't avoiding it for any reason other than the fact that I didn't want to be put in the vulnerable position of giving birth in front of any of Luke's colleagues or directors or anyone else he knew. Not to mention we really wanted our original OB to deliver Charlotte. That, and the fact that Community North is basically a luxury hotel and nothing compares aesthetically.

However, none of that mattered in the 5 minute ride to the hospital as I turned into your standard screaming, laboring pregnant lady. I remember screaming in pain, yelling things like "I'm scared" and "Help me" and "We aren't going to make it." I know this sounds dramatic and silly, but to be honest, these were my truest feelings at the time. I can't even put into words how incredibly scared I was.

Luke called ahead to the labor and delivery floor to tell them we were coming and to be waiting for us with a wheelchair. We pulled into the circle drive of the emergency room entrance and two nurses and one of Luke's fellow residents were there with a chair waiting to transport me to the 4th floor.

They knew the urgency and literally sprinted me through hallways and to the elevator as fast as they could, asking me various items of information along the way...my social security number, my blood type, my allergies. People waiting to be seen in the ER stared as they raced me past, and I had never been more relieved to see the elevator.

We made our way to the floor and they took me to the room. I didn't even know that Luke hadn't been with us. He was parking the car and doing his own race through the halls to get to me in time, hurdling a few chairs along the way. Thankfully, he came in behind us and was able to be there for the birth of our baby girl, which happened approximately 5 minutes after.

More panic hit me as I realized that there would be no chance for an epidural and I would be doing this the old fashioned way. I remember saying how I couldn't do it and I remember everyone saying that I could. I did do it...a true testament to the fact that you will do what you have to do in the moment to get the job done.

It hurt. Not gonna lie.

About three good, hard pushes was all it took to give life to my second daughter-- a far cry from the four hours of seemingly endless pushing with Noelle. From start to finish, 25 minutes was it...from the 9:00 phone call to my parents to the 9:25 delivery. I don't think we even left our house until 9:10 and didn't arrive at the hospital until 9:15. I can't decide if those were the longest 25 minutes or the shortest 25 minutes of my life-- probably a little bit of both.

Waves of shock hit us both as we looked at each other in disbelief. "Did that really happen?" I managed to say multiple times, along with "It wasn't supposed to be like this." And it wasn't supposed to be like that. She was supposed to be born the next day. We were supposed to have her in Indy. She was supposed to have been delivered by Dr. Ertel. I was supposed to have an epidural for the love of God. However, for as much that went "wrong" or not according to plan that evening, so much went right.

Charlotte didn't have to spend any time in the NICU (unlike Noelle), which meant that I got the moment I always wanted to have-- they put her on my stomach seconds after her birth, and Luke got to cut her cord. She was never taken out of our room following the delivery, and we bonded with her right away. These things were luxuries to us-- things we didn't get to do the first time.

I am so incredibly thankful for those two nurses and Dr. Anderson who were there to help us that night.  I am thankful that we didn't try to head to Indianapolis only to have our baby on the side of I-69. I am of course so thankful for Luke who was always calm and never showed any fear if he had any.

And tonight, I'm thanking God for another  beautiful baby girl who will no doubt have a life full of adventure and spirit given her entrance into the world.

Charlotte Scout, we love you and your sister so much.

How to Train Your Toddler

Correction: How to Potty Train Your Toddler

Step 1: Wait until she's ready.

The end.

I started to try to potty train Noelle at the beginning of the summer. I was determined to proudly walk my potty trained two year old into her daycare at the beginning of this school year and proclaim to all that I had successfully coached her out of diapers and WOW aren't I the best at being a mom??

Well, after one day of potty training in May, I quit. I cried and then I quit. Noelle wasn't getting it. I wasn't sticking with it. End of story. Looking back now, I laugh because Noelle was still sleeping in a crib. How on Earth was I going to teach a child to get up out of bed in the middle of the night to go potty when she wasn't even physically able to get out of bed in the first place?

So, we abandoned the potty training idea for a couple of months. We bought her a twin bed and started pumping her full of "I'm a big girl!" confidence. Once she started school, the people at the daycare began to plant the seed of sitting on the potty. I had mixed feelings about this-- mainly because I wasn't really asked if this was OK, and I wasn't sure if I was ready for them to do it...but Noelle insisted on trying like the big girls, and I guess it ended up being a good thing.

As of last Friday, I added several pair of Hello Kitty underwear to the Dora & Yo Gabba Gabba ones we already owned from the first failed attempt and told Noelle we were done with diapers.

Now, I'm not saying I haven't had to clean up my fair share of pee on the floor, on the toilet set, in the undies, on the socks, etc, etc, etc...but I will say that in one week, she had only ONE accident while at school, and she has used the potty numerous times out in public, too. I'd say her success rate is about 75-80% at home, and I think that's pretty good. She wants to be a big girl and she likes feeling successful.

We are trying to reward her with stickers instead of food treats, but I'm not gonna lie...I've been so happy she's finally doing it that I have given her suckers, gum, fruit snacks, chocolate, and I bought her a stuffed penguin today because she peed in the potty at Hobby Lobby. I'm that mom...but I don't really care. I can honestly say I haven't changed a diaper in a week, and that hasn't happened since early 2010. All this just in time for me to start changing lots and lots of tiny diapers here in a few weeks.

Potty training is HARD work on the parents, too. Diapers are much easier. I actually was OK with her being in diapers. It's far easier when you're out in public to just let your kid pee in her diaper instead of frantically trying to find a bathroom while your child is yelling to an entire store "I have to go potty!" all the while you're sweating profusely and worried someone is going to buy that shirt that's the last one in your size that you're going to need to stash somewhere while you're in the bathroom. Ugh.

But-- it's a necessary evil, this potty training thing. I'm happy she has decided to take the leap. Just one more notch in her "I'm a big girl" belt.

Playing Catch-Up

I can't believe it has been over a month since I last posted. I used to be so devoted to keeping this blog updated, and I used to really love reading blogs. I still do, but I get so overwhelmed when I start that I usually just go to Facebook. It's a really exciting life I live.

Let's see, what's new with me? I am currently attempting to save the world, one student at a time. I think the school year has started off well, but I am completely distraught over the fact that I don't have a maternity leave substitute yet, and I don't have all of the information ready to give to my "maternity leave sub." I want to put together a binder of all the important things he/she needs to know while I am gone for 12 weeks, but I haven't had time to do that yet.

I suppose I feel a sense of urgency because at my 32 week appointment last week, I basically had to convince the nurse practitioner (I didn't get to see my doc because she was already scheduled full) to check me to see if I was dilating (which is a really gruesome word and I hate using it) yet. I have been feeling nonstop pressure down low and a lot of contractions, so I was just curious. I was having flashbacks of my pregnancy with Noelle when I was 7 cm dilated at 38 weeks and 2 days later they induced me. So, she checked me, only to find that I was already 3 cm....yes, at 32 weeks. Of course it is too early, and it's not even anything to get excited about because if the baby is trying to come early, she is WAYYYY too early.

I go back to the doctor on Tuesday of next week, and I'm wondering if she will check me again. I am also wondering if I will have progressed further. My biggest "wonder" is what she will tell me if I am progressing. Will she tell me I need to go on bed rest? Will she give me some sort of medicine to helps stop contractions? Will she let me be and just tell me to wait it out? I don't know...but I am nervous and oh-so-thankful that Luke can come with me this time. The last time, after the 3 cm scare, I was put on the fetal monitor for about 20 minutes. I was all alone and scared and nervous and going through all of the "what ifs" in my head.

So, all of those things aside, I am really, really excited for this weekend. Saturday is going to be "Baby Preparedness Day." Luke is finally off on a Saturday and we have planned for this day to be the one when we pack hospital bags, bring down baby gear from the attic, get the nursery all ready to go, wash bedding and blankets, and do all of the things we have neglected to do for the past 8 months.

Then...Sunday marks my final (LAST ONE!!!!!!!) photo session before my leave begins. I never thought this day would come. Honestly, I love my photography business and am SOOOOOO thankful for all my clients, but I am so ready for a big ol' break. I haven't set a return date yet, but it will probably be Feb/March of 2013, provided we survive the apocalypse. I am so excited for all the free weekends I will have. It's going to be amazing!!!!

It's now 8:30 and I am ready for bed! Tired doesn't begin to describe how I feel right now. Even Noelle passed out an hour earlier than normal. I think that's a sign that I should, too.

As of tomorrow, not only will I "turn" 28 weeks pregnant, but it will have been a week since I last saw Luke. He has been in Canada on a fishing, camping, and canoeing trip with his dad, brothers, some family, and friends. He is due back here on Sunday, and I can't freaking wait until I see him. Really, tomorrow will be the last day that I won't be able to talk to him because at least while he is on the 20 hour drive back on Saturday, I should be able to chat with him on the phone. This makes me quite happy!

This is the longest amount of time that I have been away from him since having Noelle. This has been a really challenging week. All of the loneliness, silence, and just longing to have his company around aside, it has been a busy week where I would ordinarily really need his help, want his opinion, rely on his expertise, and cherish his support. It's amazing how you truly don't understand how much you need your spouse until they are not there (for any amount of time, really), and when you have a child, that need is multiplied by about 10,000.

Luke is a super wonderful dad, a supportive husband, and in general just a great, positive person to be around, so not having him here (both in person and on the phone) has been so tough. This week, I had several photo sessions, my glucose test at the doctor's office, a lot of school stuff to get done, and some housing stuff to take care of in Indy. Not to mention this was basically my last full week of summer break, so I really didn't want to spend it frantic and frazzled and lonely, but I did the best I could. I'm thankful for all the babysitting help and people who were there to keep me company this week.

However, through it all, even though I absolutely cannot stand when Luke is gone this long, I feel a sense of strength and accomplishment. I was able to swallow my fears of being alone, to handle responsibilities and duties that aren't normally mine, and to be strong for my daughter when even she quietly whispered in bed, "I miss Papa."

So, I find myself both wishing for Sunday to hurry up and get here and for the week to slow down (only because I will be starting school one week from tomorrow), but since sacrifice was the theme of the week, I'll go ahead and just hope for this week to end as quickly as possible.

Eager

I have so, so many blog posts I would like to either start, finish, or post for the public. I'm queen of the unfinished draft post...and I'm really wanting to turn them loose. Everything from Facebook issues to political issues to mommy issues to not issues at all....I just want to write in this place called MINE.

I look forward to doing that here shortly. Stay on the edges of your seats, couches, rugs, beds, or whatever else you're sitting on these days.

Charlotte Update

So, this pregnancy will go down in history as the least documented event in life. Maybe that's an exaggeration, but compared to Noelle's when I was documenting everything, every week, I have now become what I promised I wouldn't...forgetting to take belly bump pictures, forgetting to write things down, forgetting to give Charlotte the 5 star treatment I gave her big sister. This makes me sad, but I can't go back in time and redo what I have missed, so I guess I will just give an update to ease my own guilt.

I am close to 27 weeks pregnant right now. I really can't believe that because I feel like it took an eternity to get to this point with Noelle, and these past 27 weeks (well, 24-ish since I found out) have just zoomed by. Being busy with Noelle, photography, and life in general has accounted for the time warp feeling, and I wish I could just take it all in a little more. Before I know it, this will be over, and I will be a mother to two precious girls (insert excited squeal!), but I know I will miss the pregnancy.

I have always been blessed with "easy" pregnancies. I don't get morning sickness. I don't have health complications (knock on wood). I don't get so tired that I can't move or function or take care of myself and/or others. I don't have weird cravings or aversions. I simply function as a normal human growing another human inside. No big deal. I chalk it up to simply not allowing myself the time to think about feeling like crap...because there are days when I don't feel up to par...but I just can't think about it. There's too much to do in a day. This is not to say that women who suffer from all of the above are weaker than me or that they throw themselves pity parties all day (because believe me I would if I did have all of the nasty pregnancy symptoms), I'm just saying this is what I do and it works for me.

Charlotte moves a ton. She loves to be active in the evening and while I am sleeping. She moves twice as much as Noelle ever did. Noelle moved just enough to let me know that she was OK. Charlotte moves constantly. I don't know what this means for us for when she is born, but I'm loving her active personality already.

I'm big. I think I have gained less weight so far in this pregnancy, but I started about 15 pounds heavier than I did with Noelle, so I feel like I look about 6 weeks ahead of where I should. I am self conscious about this and really don't like my picture taken this time around (which probably explains the "forgetting" of the belly bump pictures). I am looking forward to having Charlotte so that I can begin the process of losing this pregnancy's weight as well as Noelle's. I have a goal of losing 50 pounds. I shared this goal with Luke over our anniversary dinner at Cheesecake Factory, after we had an appetizer, entree, and dessert (cheesecake!). Of course that would be problem #1.... a 3 course meal, but it was our anniversary and I'm still pregnant. So there.

We have begun the process of combining Noelle and Charlotte's rooms. We have picked up some art for the walls, gone through Noelle's clothes from 0-3 months and put them in the dresser, and we are slowly but surely making room for baby. We have loads of baby gear to bring down from the attic and get ready, but we will soon enough. It's definitely really easy to get ready for a sibling that is the same sex as the older one. It's also easier to know the sex this time around. It was fun to be surprised with Noelle, but it's been fun to know and call her by her name, too.

Speaking of her name, we have decided on Charlotte Scout Ernstberger. I have always loved the name Scout for a little girl, but I never thought I would be daring enough to use it as a first name. It doesn't really "go" with Noelle, either, which is pretty feminine looking. However, we love the balance of Charlotte Scout...girly with strong...a little tomboy mixed with frills...and we love that Scout is a character in To Kill A Mockingbird, which is Luke's mom's favorite book and my mom is an English teacher. It all fits.

I go for my glucose test next week. I'm a little nervous that I will have GD this time around, mainly because I feel fat...which is really no evidence that I have it but I definitely feel more at-risk this time around.

Once school starts, this pregnancy is going to fly by even faster. I will be so busy with school and getting things ready for my maternity leave that I will barely have time to think about anything else.

Charlotte, we are so excited and ready to meet you. We know you will be the best addition to our family. Thank you for being so easy on me and for fitting into our already-crazy life. I hope you know that even though I haven't been the  best at documenting every step of your journey that I love you so much!

Honestly

It's been a month since I clicked the Publish button, and I'm pretty sure that's because I try to avoid the way I'm feeling right now. Anxious. Nervous. Full of thoughts yet empty on words. I have started a handful of posts over the past several weeks, only to shut my computer with frustration and go about doing something else.

I really think that I have experienced and am experiencing a ______ life crisis. I don't know what to call it when I am only (freshly, as of yesterday) 28 years old. I hope it's not a mid-life crisis as I would like to live to be older than 56, but I suppose stranger things have happened and I know the world would in fact go on. 

Unless the world ends in December of this year. In that case we have a whole new set of issues on our hands.

Anyway-- I feel this is an actual "crisis," meaning that I am so afraid of failing that I am taking myself out of the ball game all together. This is new for me. I of course have felt fear and anxiety before, but I have never really let it impair me to the point of just removing myself from the situation all together. Now I feel like I have been doing lately is thinking of ways to get out of commitments and responsibilities I would otherwise have no problem completing. Am I vague enough for you?

I love the Internet, but the Internet doesn't always love me. What I mean is that I love to stalk blogs, read websites, go Pinterest crazy, and just basically creep around into other people's lives, but these practices have really hurt me lately and have hindered my confidence as I enter my 29th year of life. In a time when I should be more sure and self-aware than ever, I find myself doubtful, insecure, and questioning every single part of myself, slicing and dicing until there's nothing left.

My practice of reading outstanding teachers' blogs has caused me to doubt what I can do in the classroom, thinking I'll never be as creative and talented and effective as these ladies. I have woken up in the middle of the night thinking about my class's ISTEP scores, wondering what I could have done better to get 100%. 

I love to get inspiration for photos from other photographers who are much more talented than I am, but lately I have just been consumed by worry that my photos will never be that amazing. When I don't hear back from a client who has received my photos, or when I lose a client to someone else (which has happened before as well as just recently-- a long time, 4 session client), I start to wonder why I am even trying. I begin to think that this whole thing is a waste of time and I should just quit before I waste any more money. I don't like fishing for compliments-- in fact  never actually try to fish for a compliment, but there are times that I would really like to hear something like, "WOW! That photo is incredible! GREAT WORK!" I don't hear that...like, ever. So, maybe my photos aren't incredible, and maybe I should just quit? I don't know anymore.

Don't get me started on Facebook. I love and hate it with a passion. I recently felt like a loser because I saw a bunch of girls my age celebrating a bachelorette party, looking all cute and trendy and skinny with their alcoholic drinks in a hotel room, while I was sitting on my bed in Luke's T-shirt at 8:45 on a Saturday night ready to call it a night. I am always so torn between loving being "past" that time in my life and hating that I am not even 30 and have the social life of a 75 year old. Then again, even those people have social calendars at the retirement home. I have phantom friends, friends who I know are there but I don't talk to or see unless it's on my Facebook newsfeed. I have become awful at remembering birthdays, organizing dinners, having people over, or basically just making an effort. I'm embarrassed by what a horrible friend I am.

What it all comes down to, I believe, is that I truly have no idea WHO THE HELL I AM. I am 28 years old and suffering an identity crisis. I don't know who I am, what I want, or how to be OK with any of that. I feel ungrateful for saying all of this because I know that I have a beautiful daughter and another on the way, and I know I have a great husband and I know that we have jobs and a roof over our heads and cars that run and all that stuff. I know. But is it too much to ask to feel as whole on the inside as I appear on the outside? Where do I go from here? How do I make things better? 

I guess I need to sit down and really consider the reasons why I am doing what I am doing-- teaching, photography, blogging, etc. Am I doing it for ME, or am I doing it for the approval of others? If it was for me, then it wouldn't matter what anyone else thought (or didn't think, which tends to hurt just as much). I have somehow lost my way and am hoping to find my way back soon.

In the meantime, I bought a laminator. It helps a little.