The Whole Story

If the words contractions and dilated make you squeamish, then this is not the post for you. (In other words, "little" brothers and other like-minded souls, consider yourselves warned!)

So really this story begins over five years ago, when I was getting some great birthing advice from one of my big sisters, Meredith. She had already been among the women I trust who recommended the HypnoBirthing class (although she'd never taken it since there were no instructors in her area), and then just a day or two before Xander was born, we were chatting and she was giving me even more excellent advice based on the recent natural birth of her second child. It was all great, from recommending a mirror to motivate to relaxing during contractions with a hot shower, but I think the best bit of wisdom she imparted was to wait as long as possible to go to the hospital because it makes labor seem a whole lot shorter and easier when you're not confined by all the, well, hospitalness. So we've done that each time, and have only been at the hospital for a couple hours when each baby was born. Well, we just took that "wait as long as possible to go to the hospital" bit to a new level this time, and boy was it an adventure!

Three weeks ago, it was a get-things-done kind of Tuesday. Aaron had the day off and was madly logging everything from his September rotation into Typhon before the deadline. I went to Xander's school to volunteer in his class, as usual on Tuesdays. While IO ws there, his teacher asked me if I had the sense that it was going to be soon, and I said, "Yeah, kinda, but I'm not too sure." Pretty noncommittal. When I got home, I convinced Aaron to head into the crawl space to pull out the stuff I needed to pack my hospital bag. I decided to pack the overnight bags for the kids while I was at it, not because I thought I was in labor (though I was having the occasional contration like I had been for a few weeks), but just because I was 39 1/2 weeks along and it seemed like it was high time. We had some lunch and I read Elodie her stories before her quiet time/nap. By mid afternoon, my contractions were getting a bit more frequent and regular, but they were still so mild, I didn't really think too much of them. But I did decide that just in case it turned into the real thing, it would be good to get the house clean in case we had a showing while we were in the hospital. As I was vacuuming, I occasionally had to pause for a contraction to breathe deeply, but they were still pretty mild. Aaron noticed and glanced up from his computer screen to give me some soothing words of hypnobirthing encouragement. We were starting to wonder if this might be the day, but "who knows?" we both thought. The mild contractions were coming probably around every 5 minutes, but I was still feeling good so I went about my normal activities and drove to pick up Xander from school to take him to music class. There was no parking at his school parking lot, so I had to park at the park parking lot down the street and walk on over, having mild contractions along the way. I saw Xander's teacher again, and she told me that since I was a bit late, she had been wondering aloud with Xander if maybe I was in the hospital having the baby. I assured her that it was just the lack of parking and slow pregnant waddle that made me late. I dropped Xander and his friend off at music class and went home to make some saucy edamame stir-fry over brown rice for dinner. Yeah, I had contracitons during dinner, but they were mild enough that I still had an appetite. As we were reading family scriptures before bed, the contractions were getting a bit more substantial. Aaron noticed and asked the kids to give me a break because I was doing the hard work of getting the baby to come out. But Aaron had taken over the job of getting the house clean, so I assured him that I could still take care of story time. I just had to make a deal with Xander that if I tapped him on the shoulder, it meant he needed to read that page, whether it was his turn or my turn. He read way more than half of the stories that night as I breathed through the more-freqent contractions. We told the kids that if they woke up in the morning and Grandma was there instead of us, they would know that the baby had come. But the contractions were still so mild, I figured it probably wouldn't turn into the real thing until the morning. I was so tired. I really just wanted to sleep. So I had my local PA student check me (he had his OB/Gyn rotation in August) and he said I was barely dilated. The last thing I wanted was to go to the hospital too early, so I decided to see if I could just sleep through these contractions so I'd have the energy for the big event the next morning. I was pretty sure at that point that these contrations were going somewhere, I just didn't know how soon. I sat in bed and read my scriptures like usual before bed. My dad called at around 9:30 to have me look up a phone number for him, so I went downstairs and got what he needed. When I got off the phone, I asked Aaron if he could tell that I'd had a couple of contractions while I was talking to my dad. When Aaron said he couldn't tell, I figured that if they were mild enough to talk through wihtout anyone noticing, going to the hosspital was a long way off. Aaron finished the rest of the house cleaning and started to fold laundry while I read The Mockingjay to him as we'd previously planned, but we hadn't planned on the frequent deep breathing breaks, so that didn't last too long. When he was ALMOST done folding the laundry, he noticed that I needed his undivided attention, and sat by me to begin the real HypnoBirthing. I got all super comfy in my bed and he did the full relaxation thing with reassurances and encouragement through the contractions. I really got into the zone and murmured to him that if he ever thought it was time for us to go to the hospital, I'd just leave that decision up to him because I really didn't know and just wanted to stay there and sleep. Well, the contractions had gotten intense enough that I wasn't able to sleep through them, even though I was super relaxed. Aaron is amazing and was totally in tune with me. Around 11:00, he said he thought we should head to the hospital. I remember thinking, "That's fine. We'll probably be there longer than we have with any of the other births, but that's fine, whatever." So Aaron called my mom and she was there in about 20 minutes. We gathered our stuff up and headed out. We realized we'd forgotten my purse, which I really wanted sicne it had the phone number of the midwife I like best and she had told me I could call her to come in even if she wasn't the one on call because she is super nice like that. So we went back home and got it. My mom said she looked at the clock as we left for the second time and it was 11:40. I must admit that the ride to the hospital was anything but comfortable. It was getting pretty difficult to relax while sitting up and bumping around, but Aaron kept his soothing voice turned up to high and did a pretty good job of keeping me in the zone. But when we got to the hospital and the security guard said he wasn't allowed to just leave the car in the closed valet parking area, but that he had to park while some dude from the ER wheeled me up to the 4th floor, I was not too calm about it. In fact, I felt pretty agitated. Aaron assured me that he'd hurry, and off we went. I got to 4th floor triage right at midnight and tried to answer the nurse's questions between contractions, but that's what Aaron is for, and he wasn't up there yet. I started signing release forms and what not when Aaron arrived impressively fast and took over that process. I asked them if I could please just skip triage and get settled in a delivery room, but they kinda laughed it off and said they'd be quick. I think at that point my body knew that this baby was coming soon, but my mind hadn't quite wrapped itself around that so I wasn't able to put it into words and be super convincing. I was too in the zone for things like that. They made me switch wheelchairs so the ER guy could have his back, and then they finally took me into a triage room. The nurse asked me the standard question, "How would you rate your pain?" I remember hearing someone say rather forcefully, "Don't say that word!" Aaron tells me that I was the one who said that, and that it sounded a bit rude. Sorry, like I said, I was in the birthing zone. Aaron had to smooth things over with the nurse and explain that we do HypnoBirthing and we avoid the term, "pain." Then the nurse asked me to get up on the bed. I ignored her request while I breathed through a contraction and then I looked at that narrow little bed and again asked if I could please just go straight to a delivery room. No deal. I told them about how weird I was feeling. Like really weird. My left eye was twitching and my left hand was numb and crazy tingly. I didn't know what was wrong with me! (Looking back, I think that was my body's response to being ready to push but not in a position to do so. Holding that baby in was making my eye and hand completely spazz out. That's my theory.) And I felt like I really had to go to the bathroom, like a number 2. (That's another helpful thing Meredith told me about back before Xander was born. How right she was.) The nurse asked me if I wanted to step into the bathroom before I climbed into the bed, but I told her I'd better not. (I remembered that feeling with Xander's delievery, but that nurse was onto me and said it might be the baby's head and didn't let me go to the bathroom before checking me again. At which point I was complete.) I guess I didn't seem like a woman who was in the final stages of labor, because it didn't seem to occur to this nurse that the bathroom might not be the place for me! Anyhow, Aaron helped me up onto the bed and I lay on my side, which was gratefully way more comforable than sitting upright in the wheelchair. The nurse seemed in no hurry to actually check me, and was just getting the bands for the monitors around my giant belly and calling up to the midwife to come check me. Apparently the midwife was doing something and would be down in a couple minutes. I tried to hurry things along and got the nurse to just check me herself instead of waiting for the midwife. She said that I was fully dilated with a bulging water sac. To which I replied that I felt like I wanted to push. She said something that I think no nurse, midwife, or doctor should ever say to a woman in labor, "Don't push yet!" Lucky for me, I have an Aaron, who said, "You can push if you want to." I heard the nurse open the door and shout into the hallway, "I need some help in here, we're having a baby!" I pushed, and my water broke. The nurse called out, "We have mec!" Aaron says that my water didn't just break, it exploded, hitting the opposite wall (which wasn't that far away since triage rooms are tiny), splashing his jeans, the nurse, my new purse that my friends gave me for my birthday, my shorts on the counter, everything. With greenish meconium-laced amniotic fluid. Aaron says he and the nurse looked at each other, stunned, for just a moment before getting back to business. I pushed again and the baby's head crowned. I looked at Aaron and saw that he was still wearing the backpack. We had just gotten there, how was I already pushing? It was surreal. Another push, and her head was out. It was so fast I hardly felt it. How can you not feel a head coming out? Unreal. Fourth push, her body slid out. I heard her screaming and saw her tiny little body and but still couldn't quite beleive it. What, the baby is here already?!? How can that be? We just got here! It was 12:13. Only 13 minutes after we got to the 4th floor. Triage rooms are not fully equipped for birthing. They don't have warmed baby blankets and baby warmers for one thing, so they handed our little baby girl to me while she was still wet so I could warm her with skin-to-skin contact. I was still wearing the shirt I came to the hosptial in, so I yanked that off as they handed her to me. She was wet and squirmy and screaming and totally amazing. Some baby-care nurses came in and took her from me to finish drying her off and warming her up, and I could her her scremaing, but still I kept asking, "Is she OK? Is she healthy?" oh, it was such a relief to hear her cry and and to hear the nurses' affirmations that she was totally healthy! WOW! Aaron said it was the most exciting birth he's ever seen, with the explosive "shrom" and the speed and intensity of it all. The triage nurse got to catch the baby. The on-floor resident came in just after the baby arrrived, and the midwife made it down a few minutes after that. She took care of delivering the placenta , so she didn't totally miss out on the action.

I got back into a wheelchair, they handed me our sweet little girl, and we headed up to get settled in a recovery room. It was so fun to call my mom while it was still 12 something and tell her the news. Crazy that we were saying good-bye to her the second time just 33 minutes before Hazel arrived! Let me tell you, folks, HypnoBirthing works. Maybe a little too well!


(Whoa, that was long! Well, I said it was the whole story, right? Now I'm curious. How many of you actually made it to the end of my overly-detailed story? Comment if you're reading this so I can satisfy my curiosity!)

Baby Girl Bliss

Now doesn't this look like a happy bunch? We are all so completely overjoyed at the speedy arrival of our newest little daughter. Hazel Gwendolyn Dahle was born at 12:13 am on October 6, just 13 minutes after our arrival at the hospital! I asked the triage nurses if I could please skip the triage part and just get settled in a delivery room right away, but they assured me that they'd be fast and led me into a triage room anyways. Well, Hazel was faster, so the triage nurse got to do the midwife's job that night! It was quite an adventure! Aaron says that it's the most exciting birth he's ever seen, and he's seen more births than your average dad. For me, the best part was hearing her nice healthy SCREAM right when she came out. Ahhhh, music to my ears. Well, I'm hearing that music again right now, so I'll sign off!

Happy Fall, Y'all!

We had a lovely time making and eating an apple pie together to celebrate the first day of fall. It was extra fun to use apples that we'd collected from Grandpa's apple tree and the nifty Pampered Chef peeler-corer-slicer that Aaron scored at the thrift store this week. Xander and Elodie loved cranking the handle and watching it work its magic. And eating the long curliques of apple skin was pretty fun, too. Then we got to enjoy the smell of baking pie with a nice fresh fall breeze coming in the windows. Warm apple pie ala mode with caramel sauce--it was a great way to ring in a new season!


Xander has gotten pretty excited over seeing little patches of yellow leaves in the trees, and I have gotten pretty excited over the occasional nip in the air. But when I announced that today was the first official day of fall, it was Elodie who reminded me of the best part about this fall--a new baby! I've been telling her that the baby is going to come in the fall, around Mom's birthday. When I told her it was fall, she made the connection right away. So we are especially glad to welcome a new season and anticipate the nearness of welcoming a new little girl into our family!

A Mom's Best Friend

One summer morning as the kids were getting dressed, I heard some commotion coming from upstairs so I headed up to find out what was going on.

I saw Xander first, who informed me, without waiting to be asked, "Elodie is immodest!" Sure enough, when I followed the ensuing screams of defiance to Elodie's bedroom, I saw her in her princess sundress with no shirt underneath. Immediately, I remembered an article in a recent Friend magazine called "Modest at Any Age" and asked Elodie if she wanted to come downstairs and read a story with me. This was obviously not what she was expecting me to say to her. Her defiance left, and she came with me willingly. I had recently read the story to her, so we just looked at the picture and talked about the story together. Then I turned to the Modesty Checklist that followed. I explained to her that the prophets have taught us how we can be modest to show that we respect the bodies Heavenly Father gave us. We went through each point to check if what she was wearing was modest. Does it cover your shoulders? No. Does it cover your stomach? Yes. Does it come down to your knees? Yes. Is the neckline high enough? No. And down through the list. When we got to the end, I asked her what she wanted to do. Without hesitation, she said, "Put a shirt on underneath so I can be modest." Elodie is not the type who easily takes suggestions from me regarding clothes (or many other things--she's more the strong-willed type than the compliant type). But with the help of my Friend, she was able to see the decision objectively and make her own decision. Here she is after successfully making that difficult decision for herself.

I was so grateful for that resource and for the focus on standards and absolutes in this ambiguous world. Many of you reading this post may think that it really doesn't matter how "modestly" an innocent little 3-year-old dresses. It's irrelevant because she's just a little girl! And perhaps that's true. I wore tank tops and short shorts to keep cool in the summer when I was a little kid, and I turned out just fine. But as I had kids, I started wondering, "at what age does it start mattering that my daughter dresses modestly and understands what it means to respect herself and her body?" (Or son, of course, but let's face it, this world prizes immodest dress in women way more than in men.) I thought about how I perceived modesty as a teenager. I thought that I dressed modestly because my clothes were more modest than everybody else at school. Sure, I wore sleeveless shirts, but I didn't wear strappy tank tops like so many did. No, my skirts didn't always come quite to the knee, but they were so long compared to the booty shorts most girls wore! I subscribed to relative modesty. It wasn't until I hit the clearcut standards of the BYU honor code that I reshaped my thinking about modesty. And when I did, I was converted to it and could hardly believe how recently I had seen the matter so differently. When I was preparing for a mission and got to go to the temple, I was grateful that I was already converted to the standards of modesty that temple worthiness entails.

And so I've discussed this modesty issue with my sisters and my friends and even my mom, and we do have different views on it. But as I look at the options, I can't imagine it being any easier to wait to teach my children the standards of modesty. When will she be more receptive than when she is 2 or 3 years old? Will it be easier to teach her the standards of modesty when she develops curves and the boys are flocking and Mom and Dad realize that her dress is sending the wrong message? Or when she is packing for BYU and we tell her that most of her wardrobe won't work? Or when she is about to make sacred covenants in the temple in preparation for a mission or marriage? I just can't imagine it being easier to let it go when they're young and then expect it at some indeterminable future point. So I decided from the time I had my first baby that tank tops were out. That the adorable sleeveless dresses would look just as adorable with a shirt underneath. That shorts, skirts, and dresses had been officially grown out of when they no longer reach the knees. It just seemed easier to me to be clearcut from the beginning.

Then I saw this story in the Friend, "Modest at Any Age," validating my decision. I felt grateful for the increased focus on standards in this relative world. Maybe it didn't really matter back when I was a kid, but I get the sense that it does now. As the world gets fuzzier and fuzzier, we need to get clearer and clearer. These are principles that can best be taught in the home, by example, by consistent adherence, by clear expectations, and by direct instruction with the help of great resources like The Friend and For the Strength of Youth.

This simple experience with Elodie gave me a great sense of confidence and reassurance that as a Mom, I have all of the support I need to teach my children correct principles and let them govern themselves. What a great feeling!

Top Ten Ways to Tell that Xander is Growing Up

 

#10 Xander can tie his own shoes.

The school shoes we got for him have laces. I told him we could get them if he would work on learning to tie his own shoes. So I've been practicing with him. But then Dad taught him the "bunny ear" method, and he did it for the first time Sunday before Church. Wow, that's independence.

#9 "I can read myself a bedtime story; isn't that awesome?"

This is what Xander said to me when he was supposed to be getting PJs on and brushing his teeth and I was trying hurry him up. I told him at his current pace, we may not have time for a bedtime story, and this was his reply. My hurry tactic may be ruined, but it is awesome to have a reader!

#8 Xander can send a text message.

Well, with a little help from Aunt Melayna. She let him text a little birthday wish to Aunt Rachael, who assures us that she was able to decipher his spelling just fine.

#7 Xander can build his Lego helicopter by following the instruction book--all 30-some steps.

Can I just say that I LOVE the inventors of Legos? One summer day, before this school routine started, Xander played Legos ALL morning--for 4 hours straight. After lunch, swimming, and some down time with a movie, he was back to the Legos for a couple more hours. Now THAT is a good toy.

#6 Xander can make up jokes that have a punchline to "get." (Sometimes. He does still find nonsense and bathroom humor hilarious. Although, come to think of it, so do my brothers.)

I pointed out a pick-up truck that had a screen painting of horses on the back window of the cab and Xander came right back with: "That truck must have a lot of horsepower."

#5 Xander can write things like "new Sunday shoes" on mom's shopping list.

After at least a month of being forced to wear too-small shoes every Sunday because I forgot about that minor detail until Sunday morning rolled around each week, he happened to notice a shopping list on the table and added the item to my list, getting the job done nicely!

#4 Xander gets to eat lunch at school in the cafeteria.

I was prepping Xander for the fact that he'll probably be changing schools in the middle of this kindergarten year, and chances are, it will be to half- day instead of full-day. I'm pretty excited about that, actually. But he said: "That's bad because then I won't get to eat my lunch at school!" (Since the newness of school has kinda worn off and Xander has noticed more how it infringes on his playtime, he has decided that he really would prefer half-day over full-day, even if it means no lunch at school. We’ll see what the future brings!)

#3 Xander is starting to make choices based on how they might affect others.

On the way to Church, I was munching some peanuts and Xander asked for some. Then he said, “no, I don’t want any, because I’m going to see Cooper, and he might be allergic to me.” I thought that was very good of him to think far ahead enough and outside of himself enough to make a better decision.

# 2 Xander is learning to spell some important words, like “Spider-Man,” correctly (rather than just phonetically).

Just this week, the kindergarteners were given the homework of writing a “story” at home every day. At school, they are supposed to write true stories about themselves. To spice things up a bit, I told him that at home, he could write about whatever he felt like. So, not surprisingly, he decided to write a story about Spider-Man saving a girl from a burning building. A couple weeks ago, Elodie found some books about Spider-Man in the easy reader section at the library and picked them out for Xander. He thinks they’re some of the coolest books ever and has read them several times. So after he worked on getting all of the details of his picture right, with the fire orange and blue and webs coming from Spider-Man’s hands and everything, he began to write. As he sounded out Spider-Man, he asked me if he should put a line (meaning a dash or hyphen) after “spi,” and I told him, “no, just write it all together.” Then he asked if he should put it after “spider” before “man” and I told him the same thing, “just write it all as one word, you only need a dash if you can’t fit it all on the same line.” So he listened to me. But after he got ready for bed, he dug the Spider-Man book out of the stack and showed me that there really is a “line” in it, and that I was wrong. Wow, my whole life, I’ve been spelling it Spiderman. But according to this official book, I’ve been wrong. And Xander noticed and remembered and then proved me wrong! I was so proud of him! They say that the best way to become a good speller is to read a lot. I guess for the really important words, it’s already starting to sink in for Xander! Of course in today’s story, he spelled stinky “stingkey,” showing that he obviously needs to read more books about stinky things!

#1 Xander can ride a two-wheeler bike!

On Friday, July 16, Xander was begging me to help him learn to ride a two-wheeler by holding onto his back and running aorund like crazy trying to keep up. I opted out, claiming that it was just too awkward with my huge belly, and deferred him to his dad when he got home, even though I knew Aaron was on call until 9 or 10 that evening. Well, it was Xander's lucky day. They let Dad off early at the hospital and told him to come back at 6:00 for his evening call. So in this one hour window that Dad had, he took Xander off down the path on his two-wheeler. When I went outside to call them in for dinner after 30 minutes or so, I saw Xander riding down the path by himself, with Dad trailing a ways behind. The next day, Dad lowered the bike seat a bit, and then Xander was able to start and stop by himself, too. I was quite impressed.

Back at the Home Front

This is Elodie right after dropping Xander off at school yesterday. Her face seems to say, "What am I going to do all day without Xander?" Sometime after lunch yesterday, I suggested to Elodie that she go up to her room to play. She came down after just a minute saying, "I already played with everything in my room." Things sure do feel different with just one kid around! It makes me even more excited for the new baby to arrive! That oughtta keep Elodie busy!

Another First

That's Xander, climbing onto the school bus like it's no big deal. Like he's done this loads of times before. But, no, it was his first time. And he didn't even bat an eye. Even though I'd prepped him for months that when he started school, he'd get to ride the bus with his pseudo-big-brother Nolan (a big 4th grader now) who would take good care of him and then during breakfast this morning, we found out that Nolan was going to be getting a ride to school and would not be Xander's bus buddy today. That made me a bit more apprehensive, but Xander didn't seem to mind at all. We walked over to the bus stop, and when the bus arrived, Xander joined the swarm of kids and climbed aboard without even looking back at me. He was gone before I knew it. I felt a bit weird seeing him leave like that.

After school, when I went to pick him up from the bus stop, he came walking towards me when I was only about halfway there. He had gotten off at an earlier stop, at the park, and just started walking home like he didn't expect me to be there to meet him or anything. Of course he knows the way home from the park; we've walked it TOGETHER hundreds of times. But alone? How old does this kid think he is, huh? I wanted to clarify that I planned on meeting him at the bus stop, so I was asking him if he wanted to get off at the park everyday or at the stop that's a little bit closer to our house so that I could plan on leaving at the right time and going to the right spot. "Oh, no, Mom, you don't have to come and get me. I can just walk home by myself. I'm a really big boy now." Oh you think so, do you? Well I'll be there at the bus stop, even if you don't think you need me! Independent or TOO independent? He's making me wonder!

Xander loved riding the bus. From how he talked about it, it was one of the highlights of the day. I guess as far as kids go, he does a pretty good job of telling me what he did and learned at school, but it is SO weird for me to not really know what he's been doing all day. When I asked what he learned, he said, "I learned TONS of stuff," but when I pressed for details, he said, "I can't remember all of it." Hmmm. I know that he got to go to Music today, which he liked, but not as much as he loved gym yesterday (it was his favorite part of the day yesterday). That he played with a friend from Church at recess. That the bought lunches smell better than his packed lunch and when can he buy his lunch? That Mrs. Parker sings the days of the week song differently than we do at home and can we start singing it her way? That she read him a book about Dos and Don'ts that was really funny because it says stuff like "Don't wear underwear on your head" and "don't make other people smell it." That sometimes Mrs. Parker lets them lie down while she's reading them a story. That he missed me a little bit at school today, but he didn't cry about it like a little girl in his class did. That the kid from his class who sat next to him at lunch today is named Aaron just like dad. That he wanted to draw a picture of Nolan before the end of school, but he didn't get a chance. That he's learning classroom procedures quite effectively. (He raised his hand at dinner today to make a comment, and it's only the second day!) Pretty good details, huh? So why do I still feel like I really don't know what's going on in that classroom of his all day?

And I'm learning some things, too. For one, not to tell Xander that he can finish building his Lego helicopter in the morning if he wakes up early enough. It seemed like an innocent thing to say when he was crushed about putting his Legos away at bedtime last night. (This all day school thing is really cutting into his playtime. Only 10 minutes of bike riding and barely time to get your helicopter halfway built? Sheesh.) But when I was hopping into the shower at around 7:00 this morning, Xander knocked on the door to show me that he'd finished his helicopter. How early DID he wake up to get that finished by then? Who knows. But when I got out of the shower and saw him lying grumpily on Elodie's floor, I knew it was too early. "Why did you wake up if you were still tired, Xander?" His reply was so innocent and sweet: "because you said that if I woke up early enough, I could finish building my Lego helicopter." Note to self: watch what you say because he is listening!