Wednesday, December 23, 2015

Christmas Eve, Eve

As our family continues to grow we often find ourselves thinking about what routines, rituals, and traditions we want to incorporate into our lives. As Christmas approaches traditions have been especially prominent in our minds. A few things we really love to do around Christmas are: drive around and look at Christmas lights (we miss temple square in Salt Lake City!!), make yummy treats, serve in the ward and community, read Christmas stories (thanks to Gerry and Janice for sharing a binder full of them), and sit by our cozy netflix fire while we open gifts or watch a Christmas classic.

With Christmas only a few days away, we've made good progress. Surprisingly, Christmas lights are hard to find in residential neighborhoods around here, and we are not inclined to spend $20 to go drive down an overly decorated street or raceway that resembles a blend of Disney's "Its a small world" and the Vegas strip on steroids. However, as were searching for things to do in the area we stumbled across a little Bavarian themed town called Helen (about an hour and fifteen minutes from us) that was decorated for Christmas and full of eateries, chocolateries and so on.   Here are a few shots from our trip.

                             

As an aside, Anderson has become increasingly more fussy in the car and we can hardly drive an hour before he is whooping and hollering in t he backseat. Most drives get extended because he only seems to want to eat when he is starving, even if mom offers at an earlier time. Our pleasant drive through the mountains of Georgia was slightly marred by the sound of the screeching eels in back.

Together, we decided we would cook three of our favorite treats that we don't often make: Lemon bars, Walnut Squares, and Muddie Buddies. We also decided to get a little more frugal and creative about our Christmas decor. See our escapades captured on camera below.

               

Santa Clause v. The Tooth Fairy

Remember that time we said we were going to be really diligent about updating our blog...

Rather than try to play catch up on all that we haven't documented since our last post I am just going to post about our morning today. We just got back from the pediatric dentist (aka the Tooth fairy in our title) where Anderson had has frenectomy done. What is a frenectomy (aka frenulectomy, frenotomy) you ask? It is when your lip or tongue are 'tied' via extra skin to your mouth which limits mobility of the lip or tongue and you have that tie cut or freed up. In our case, his tongue and lip were tied which was affecting his ability to breastfeed, keep in a pacifier, and otherwise control his flat flabby tongue. Our visit today was actually a follow up appointment to ensure that everything healed appropriately, didn't re-tie, etc.

To our surprise they had a Santa in the office waiting room which was a stroke of sheer brilliance for a place that is super busy right before the holidays. It was fun to watch each new kid walk into the office and yell 'Santa' with a grin. That said, Michelle and I both actually have mild fear/aversions to Santa Clauses so we sat across the room from him and didn't approach, disregarding the open seats next to him. He did his job well of course and came over to give Anderson attention. Anderson decided that he was still tired and would much rather try to fall back asleep then entertain Santa. When Santa asked if Anderson wanted to have a picture with him, he spit up all over himself (he must have inherited our Santa aversion).

After we cleaned him up we did in fact get a picture of Anderson with Santa. Despite our disliking of Santa's helpers, we have to admit this was hands down one of the best Santa's we've seen (see below). He had a great suit, amazing Santa voice, and was just invasive enough to be pleasant but not overbearing. He also was appropriately handing out toothbrushes (it is a dental office after all) and little bells (harking to the 'believe' concept from the film the Polar Express).

 

Side note, how do you make small talk with a Santa? Do you ask about his 'real life' or do you ask about what part of the world he will be traveling to next and what he feeds his reindeer? We didn't know the answer to that question so we sat in awkward silence and avoided eye contact, which of course encouraged an impromptu singing of a Christmas carol by Santa. Perhaps he needs a nice Christmas book to keep him busy in between pictures with patients...

Returning to the purpose of our post, our visit went well and, as it turns out, Anderson healed perfectly. On to the next great oral adventure—teething!

Friday, September 25, 2015

Labor & Delivery

Michelle gave birth to Anderson only a week ago and yet I feel like the memory of that moment is already slipping away and it scares me to death. I tell Michelle that it's a tender mercy that she forgets the pain of labor and delivery (one that God bestows upon all women) otherwise she wouldn't want to have more kids (smirk, chuckle).  That said, I want to record as much as I can about that experience while I still have it fresh in my mind. No words can convey the poignancy of the emotions we both felt that day; the sympathy, the joy, the pain, the awe. I think I likely experienced charity, the pure love of Christ, that day, for the first time in my life and really knew, in those moments, what it meant to call God, Father.

I'm grateful to Garrett for getting this project started! Between recovering, feeding baby, changing baby, and sleeping, the thought of recording this series of events seemed a little too daunting. However, my memories of the recent days are also fading away, and as one of the most impactful times of my life, I want to make sure it's documented. 

I think I will start with labor-eve and let Michelle interject as she pleases (in italics). Baby was officially due on August 27th, 2015, however, the date we calculated, the date the midwives calculated, and the date the ultrasound determined were all different from one another. As of Wednesday September 2nd, Anderson was a late arrival. I often wondered (not knowing the doctrinal precision of my query) if perhaps his pre-mortal stay had been extended so that he could visit with Grandpa Christensen, who had recently passed. The thought of such a reunion softens my eyes. We knew of course that Anderson could safely come as much as two weeks late but I was ready for him to come out and Michelle was fed up with carrying the extra weight and the discomfort that accompanies it. That week we tried every natural inducement technique that we could think of: walking, swimming, sex, stimulation of the breasts—the list goes on and on (guess which technique I enjoyed the most—you guessed it, I am an avid swimmer—wink, wink). Finally on Wednesday, a week past the due date, we scheduled an appointment to have the midwives verify that all was well and to have them 'sweep' Michelle's membranes, which is also supposed to help bring baby along. The midwife told Michelle that the pain she experienced during the sweep was akin to a contraction (because we didn't think she had been having any to that point). Boy was she wrong; they were much worse, for Michelle at least. To seal the deal and coax Anderson out even further, we pulled out our ace in the hole, and had Michelle drink castor oil. We disguised it in a rootbeer float of course (because it tastes disgusting) and she could hardly taste it.

As Garrett said, the midwives (who operate out of Greenville Memorial Hospital 45 minutes away) allow most of their patients to go two weeks past term before they medically induce. This is a quality that I really appreciated, since due dates are more often guess dates. My pregnancy was low-risk and Anderson and I were developing properly. At 37 weeks one of the midwives cheerfully informed me that everything was perfect and Anderson could come any time and be just fine. So naturally we kicked into "he's coming tomorrow!!!" mode. Unfortunately, this was premature enthusiasm on our (my) part. It was probably a good thing though, since it gave us time to cook a few more freezer meals, finish up some home projects, and finish up the nursery. On August 27th (Anderson's expected due date) we had an appointment. The midwife asked if I wanted a pelvic exam to see how things were progressing. I'd been able to tell that I was dilating and effacing, so we decided to wait until the following week. We scheduled an appointment for the following wednesday for a non-stress test just to make sure his heart beat and vitals were good, and with the possibility of doing a membrane sweep. As Garrett mentioned, we'd done nearly everything possible to help things along. Up until delivery time I'd been yoga-ing and kickboxing and swimming and walking. Eating a lot of mango, pineapple, and fiber, eating our normal diet of fairly spicy foods (ginger, cayenne, oregano, etc), and had continued our regular intimate activity. ***I should say now that this post will be very open and may be too much information for some readers. We'll strive to address each incident with tact and frankness :)

The Non-Stress Test (NST) took about 20 minutes and showed that everything was normal and healthy for both of us. I hadn't really felt any contractions up to that point, at least that I was able to recognize as contractions. Early in June we left for a family reunion to Utah and when we came back the temperature had jumped nearly 15 degrees. Back then I had some odd tightening sensations of the belly, but they hadn't continued. I had however, felt some minor cramping. When the midwife (Barb) read the results, she said I was having several minor contractions. At this point I had a lightbulb moment; contractions for me are basically cramps akin to menstrual cramps. And I'd been having them for weeks. Yay! We then proceeded to the exam room where she asked if I wanted the membrane sweep. I gave my affirmation; I would rather strip the membranes that day and again the following week than have to medically induce the following week and have a possible slippery slope of medical interventions. As Garrett indicated, the stripping was pretty uncomfortable, similar to a really bad cramp. And they were similar to my later contractions, but only up to transition. Throughout the day I could tell that things were shifting and happening, but then things slowed down toward the evening. Barb told me it was okay to take a castor oil cocktail (puuuuke) which has a laxative effect and is supposed to trigger uterine contractions, but I wasn't thrilled with the most popular recipe floating around (apricot nectar, champagne, castor oil, and almond butter). Garrett and I were craving root beer floats, so we decided to grab the fixings on our way home. I wanted to make sure I wasn't taking too much (just google castor oil as a pregnancy laxative- yikes!), so I did a fraction of the dose (1 TBS) and had garrett layer it in a rootbeer float so I wouldn't even be able to smell the castor during preparation. Just to be clear, I'd highly recommend a rootbeer float as the vehicle for castor oil! I could hardly taste or smell the castor. Throughout the night I had brief and periodic cramping, and had only slightly more trips to the bathroom to clear things out. I'm not sure if I can truly attribute this to the castor oil or to my pregnant body preparing itself to expel a baby. 

The next morning, September 3rd, Michelle woke up at 5:00am with contractions. By 8:00am she started having contractions that were about five minutes apart and that caused her to audibly moan and struggle to communicate. We called the midwives and they reminded us that first time moms were often slower in coming and that Michelle still had time before she needed to come in. Because they said they didn't want to have to send us home or have us wait in the parking lot, we were instructed to wait an hour and check in again. After 30 minutes the contractions were three minutes apart so we felt it prudent to call again and start packing the car. The midwives agreed and we were on our way.

At five o'clock I woke up and had to go to the bathroom. The cramps were coming about every 15 minutes, so I decided to just stay up and get ready for the day. I ate breakfast, showered, got a bunch of stuff ready, and woke Garrett up by 6. At this point the contractions were right around 6 minutes apart, and we decided that it would be good to start getting our things together. Gradually the contractions intensified, and I laid on the bed with my hypno-sound tracks. Garrett held my hand and continued to time my contractions. I was also having an irrational urge to cry.... about nothing. I wasn't worried, I wasn't afraid, and I was remarkably calm, but I just had the irritating urge to cry. At about 7:45 we called the on-call midwife, Susan, who suggested we wait a little longer. Gotta be honest, I was pretty annoyed at this point. I know a lot of people go in prematurely, but by this point I was having to squat and focus strongly during my contractions. We gave it another 30 minutes, at which point my contractions were about three minutes apart and I called in again. The receptionist answered and I gave my information. She asked how far away we lived, spoke briefly with Susan, and then suggested that we come in "quickly" since I was progressing rapidly. By 8:45 we were in the car with a bunch of pillows, my ipod, and our bags.

Michelle is a faster driver than me and I often feel that had I ever dreamt of driving NASCAR, my experience with Michelle was the Lord's way of fulfilling that dream. Today it was my turn to fly down the road. Our area is notorious for poorly designed, two lane highways and poor drivers to match them. We often would agonize over 15 minute drives where vehicles would be going 10 under the speed limit or block both lanes of traffic, totally oblivious to the lines of cars building up behind them. With this in mind I was ready to lay my horn to them all and kiss a few bumpers if need be (though this didn't end up being required). I weaved in and out of traffic like lightning McQueen, trying to stay at least 20 over the speed limit with my high beams on a constant flicker. The Lord blessed us with drivers who paid attention and who moved out of my way. Michelle was in such pain that when we got to a few traffic lights driving through Easley she thought a police escort would be in order. She called. They passed her through three different branches and by the time she was telling the EMTs she didn't need an ambulance, she needed an escort (for the second time), we were just passed the worst of the traffic and minutes away from the birthing center. If nothing else it was a good distraction for her to call the police and I was glad we had her hypnobabies soundtrack playing while she faced the passenger window, not the road ahead.

Garrett was phenomenal that day. Well, he's phenomenal all the time, but especially through pregnancy and ESPECIALLY during labor and delivery. I so appreciated his calm, strength, and support. 

 The drive was the one part of delivery I'd been worried about in the weeks leading up to the big event. Most of the roads here are two lanes and although there are laws and signs indicating that slower traffic is to keep right/keep right except to pass, it is irritatingly routine for drivers to poke along in whatever lane they please. Even going 15 miles under the posted speed limit. There's a city in between our home and the birthing center that gets really clogged up. It isn't unusual for drivers to crawl along at 30mph when the posted speed is 45 (my preferred speed is 50). I'm glad that labor was far enough advanced that I, for the most part, felt a greater need to zone out to my soundtrack than be watching traffic. I'm also surprised that traffic moved over so easily for Garrett. Tender mercies!

It was good that we left when we did because when we arrived (faster than any time prior I might add—patting myself on the back and saying a prayer of gratitude) things began to progress quickly. Michelle was dilated from the 2cms on Wednesday to 6cms and they triaged her downstairs immediately. Susan (nurse-midwife) and Katrice (clinical director, nurse) were to be our companions through this process, although Susan was replaced by Samantha, a switch we both were pleased with (because Susan had one of those big grins on her face and was speaking like a kindergarten teacher as if we were five—this wasn't going to fly). Katrice was a Godsend. She was with us from the moment we arrived to the late hours of the evening when we left and both she and Samantha acted as wise witnesses, only interjecting when needed, seeing things that we could not. For example, at one point Michelle was experiencing substantial back pain and Katrice kindly let her know she was going to apply some pressure to Michelle's lower back, which instantly addressed the issue.

During our office visits, I'd been really impressed with Susan. Samantha had seemed okay, but we hadn't really clicked. So, I was surprised when Susan's chipper demeanor began to wear on me. That day was unexpectedly busy for the midwives, so I was not bothered when Susan had to leave for another delivery and Samantha took her position. Funny enough, I'd found Katrice to be mildly obnoxious in our office visits as well, but I LOVED her attitude and approach during the delivery. Goes to show you can't judge a book by its cover.... nor can you accurately gauge in advance what/who will be an ideal presence during delivery. I loved that I was able to do my own thing during labor, while Katrice would crouch on the floor with mobile equipment to monitor my and baby's heartbeats. During another more lucid moment, I realized Samantha was sitting cross-legged on the floor with a flashlight (we had the lights dimmed) so she could see and do what she needed while still allowing me the most comfortable position possible. 

I love that Garrett, despite probably being exhausted himself, was such an active and integral part of this process. Having him close and supportive (literally!!!) was so calming for me. I had no fear that day, and despite the strange things going on in my body, felt calm and supported.  

Labor continued from about 9:45am when we arrived to 1:49pm when Anderson was delivered. We started with Michelle crouching by the bed, moved to the tub (Michelle had considered a water birth) which was surprisingly uncomfortable and reverted back to the bed. Katrice also helped set up our hypnobabies soundtrack which ended up filling the void between contractions as Michelle recovered. At one point, the hypnobaby soundtrack played one of its typical lines "your baby will easily flow down into the canal, easy, calm, confident" or something to that affect and Michelle yelled out something like "that is not true, this is not easy." To which we all laughed of course, but not so that she could hear us. One of the worst parts of labor aside from the pain was that Michelle was nauseous. She hates retching and vomiting. I think I unwittingly said, at least vomiting is better than retching (true for me) to which she assuredly said, "no, it is not" with daggers in her eyes that quickly abated with the oncoming contraction.

I was really glad that we prepared for a natural childbirth with hypnobabies. I will say I think other "brands" of hypnobirthing might have been more effective for me, but I appreciate the relaxation and meditative skills I gained. Through relaxation, I was able to have some of the best naps during pregnancy I've ever had! I also appreciated the tracks and coaching during earlier labor, and the calm background sounds after transition. However, once I hit transition (I'm a thrower-upper unfortunately...), I no longer found the self-hypnosis to be useful/usable. Garrett was able to use some of the techniques that he, as the birthing partner, learned through the hypno course. This was probably the most helpful of everything, since he was able to coach me and remind me to breathe during contractions, and encourage me to relax in effective ways. I was able to relax most of my body, but I can't tell my uterus to stop contracting so intensely! I do think, however, that my ability to relax and focus on breathing through the contractions allowed my body to and uterus to function as they were designed, rather than tensing and freezing up in a counter-productive way. Still, labor was not a comfortable or relaxing process. 

As labor progressed, Michelle became increasingly more preoccupied with contractions (huh, odd) and less able to express exactly what she needed, so Katrice brought in a birthing ball and stools and suggested we use them. Michelle started on a stool facing the bed but soon switched to sitting across from me while I sat on another stool. This way I could speak into her ear "good, relax, release, you are doing so good...breaaaatthhhh" (all the practiced hypno lines) and so that she could lean against and squeeze me. We sat like this for the next few hours with Michelle sitting upright breathing in between contractions and then leaning forward into me, sweating, with Katrice massaging her lower back when the 'birthing waves' came. I was so pleased to be so involved and to be the anchor that she would lean upon during this time. My one goal throughout the labor was to not be in the way, to not pass out, and to not annoy Michelle...I think I succeeded. During one of these intervals Michelle nearly dove forward burying her lips into my neck, kissing it so tenderly. It was a single, surprising, special moment. Throughout this process I would describe myself as focused (during contractions) and endeared (during the breaks). I couldn't help but smile as I knew what was coming and saw how strong and beautiful Michelle was.

While our birthing ball at home was very helpful for the first few hours of labor, the thought of additional pressure on my pelvis in active labor made me cringe. The birthing stools however, were AMAZING. For the first few hours anyway. It was during this time that I hit transition (lots of throwing up), and things became a little more fuzzy as I just tried to focus on the contractions. As Garrett mentioned, at one point I just leaned into him and started smooching up his neck. Not sure why, but it was comforting for both of us. And again, I'm so thankful Garrett was so active and present and supportive! As exhausted as I was, I realize that sitting on a birthing stool (designed for laboring women, not men) while supporting my weight would have been so tiring for him, but he was a stalwart trooper!

Additionally, we prepared ourselves for a natural childbirth. The birthing center does not even carry materials to give an epidural (though the midwives are happy to delivery your baby across the street in the hospital if you feel an epidural is the best course for you). I'm so glad we decided to go natural, although I definitely can't say it's for everyone. I've come to realize that had I not had access to these resources and midwives I don't think I would have been able to deliver naturally. However, at no point during our adventure did I feel a need for an epidural or to escape the pain. I DEFINITELY acknowledged it and lamented at how long things felt, but never did an epidural even cross my mind. Again, birth is such an empowering experience, second only to getting sealed to my eternal manfriend for the eternities.  

One of Michelle's frequent concerns was that it felt like she had a constant bowel movement, which sometimes she probably did (fortunately we had towels beneath us to take care of that). She had been told that giving birth was like trying to pass a bowling ball. She did not really believe this until the moment to deliver arrived. In fact, it appeared to her that baby was coming out of her rectum, not her vagina though the midwives assured us both this was not the case, and that the inclination to use restroom was a sign that baby was moving along. Every time Michelle would say she thought she had a bowel movement the nurse would say something like "good, you may have, you may not have, either way it means the baby is working his way down." They never disagreed or criticized, just offered alternatives and support. Finally, as Michelle got to a point where she was getting so tired she felt she could no longer push and she couldn't hardly keep herself up in the stool. When asked is she'd like to move she couldn't say so Samantha kindly said, "Michelle, you can hardly keep yourself up in that chair, I am worried you are going to fall out of it so I think we should move you to the bed." Michelle appreciated this approach as much as I did and we both obliged.

Have I mentioned Katrice and Sam were amazing? They were. 

I knew before labor that modesty and propriety tend to go out the window, and that body fluids and by-products are normal. It didn't take long at all for me to not care that I was squatting and grunting with hardly a stitch of clothing on, but for some reason the intense rectal pressure and concern of a bowel movement was very preoccupying for me. I'm still not positive whether I did or not, but I'm glad for the abundance of towels and pads that Katrice and Sam came equipped with. 

Katrice was really great at ascertaining what I might need, even when I wasn't able to think or vocalize. My low back and hips were cramping up severely while I was sitting on the stool, and Katrice applied counter-pressure without asking. When I became so tired I began falling forward into Garrett, asleep, in between contractions, Samantha firmly (and kindly) suggested we move to the bed. After the next contraction, we relocated to the bed with Garrett leaning against the headboard with a pillow and my head in his lap, me on my left side with a pillow against my back, Sam at the foot of the bed, and Katrice all over the place.  

We moved to the bed with Michelle lying on her left side, legs apart, while I set against the headboard behind her. She clenched my left wrist in one hand and the same shoulder in the other. Soon after moving to the bed the real contractions and pushing began. With every push Michelle would yell like she never had before and squeeze my hand and shoulder until the bones beneath them began to break (just kidding, she is very strong though). Katrice held her legs up so that she could focus all her remaining energy on pushing. Finally, Samantha indicated that she could see Anderson's head. It took a few more pushes to get him settled in the birth canal (he tended to sneak out and then retreat up to that point) and to the point where Michelle could reach down and touch skin that was not her own. Michelle had prepared well and pushed well to avoid any vaginal tearing but Anderson hadn't been informed of that so he stuck his hand up by his head which then caused extra stretching and a mild tear. Michelle was so ready to have that baby out that she pushed with all her might and hardly noticed when the nurse, midwife, and I were yelling at her to stop for a minute. Finally she heard, stopped, and with one final push, our baby was brought fully into mortality. Seeing his head and body come out was the single most amazing thing I have ever seen. Michelle is the most amazing women I know. She delivered naturally, and quite fast for a first time mom, and did so fabulously.

Have I mentioned how amazing Garrett is and was? Every time a contraction came along, I would clench and tighten onto Garrett. I'm pretty sure I left finger shaped bruises on his forearms and shoulders, but he never complained or pulled away. He would lean forward next to me and encourage me along. For what seemed like hours. I'm pretty sure that him shouting in my ear is the only thing that kept me from having a severe tear.

Also. Can I just say, SO MUCH PRESSURE. I'd always expected delivery to be intense vaginal pressure (I mean, you have a football coming out!!!). But what I never realized is that all the other organs down there gets squeezed aside as the baby comes through. SO MUCH PRESSURE. By the time little man crowned, it was such a relief to have him out and in an area I could control his speed a little more. Unfortunately, once I felt him give a little bit I wanted to get him out. The nice thing about delivery is that I couldn't feel myself tearing. People always talk about how terrible tearing is, but it's only the recovery that isn't fun. (Not that the tearing process is fun either...)

I've always had a hard time shouting and screaming (my diaphragm must be weak and screaming kills my voice), but the wails just came out of nowhere during delivery. It almost felt like I couldn't muster the energy for pushing without the yells. Kind of like watching the caber-toss at a Highland games. No one tosses without crazy yells. 

The midwife immediately lobbed baby onto Michelle's chest, where he sat for most of the day, getting his "skin-to-skin" time with mom to help facilitate healthy breastfeeding and a good bond. He was a little swollen and purple but he was beautiful, and he was ours. I was able to cut the cord which was a lot tougher than expected. As a side note, I have to say that I am normally very queasy. I passed out donating plasma at the Provo South Plasma Center and nearly did so when I had a mole removed. The sight of needles and blood makes me cringe a little. HOWEVER, I did not once even come close to passing out. I was right there in the mix of the blood, sweat, and body fluids, I cut the cord, and I watched as baby's head emerged. The lord blessed me to be able to worry about Michelle and not myself. The great ironies are that later Michelle would pass out twice and that when I was born, my mother passed out (the one time out of the six babies she delivered).

Garrett really was great. I was pleasantly surprised that he was not a bit queasy or put off by all the fluids. I trusted that he wouldn't have any issue with passing out, but was anticipating both of us being put off by the excess of "stuff". Not at all.

It was a little surreal to see the bump that was in me for ten months dissipate into a baby. A baby with cute wrinkly skin, wrinkly fingers and toes, and a tucked in lip. It was also fun to have Garrett be able to cut the cord. 

Anderson John Stone was born 8 lbs. 6 ounces and 21 inches (same as Jack Stone, or so I am told) and became the 15th grandchild to  John and Rebecca Stone. After he was born, Michelle still hadn't delivered the placenta. She spent the next 27 minutes doing so. After 30 minutes, had it not been delivered we would have been emergency transported to the hospital. I don't know if it was appropriate, but with my hands already on her head, sitting at the head of the bead, I gave her a priesthood blessing. The words were not uttered aloud, nor was oil used but between Michelle and I all the faith and prayers we could muster were offered to ensure the placenta came out, and it did.

Have I mentioned how great Garrett is?

After that it seemed like smooth sailing. Michelle was quickly stitched up from her shallow 2nd tear (meaning it went past the first layer to the second muscle layer but was very superficial—not a bad tear by all accounts). We ate all the yummy food that Michelle had begun preparing weeks in advance (the midwives were shocked, and talked as if we had packed for the apocalypse—must have been the Mormon food storage skills). We sent out texts and pictures to family and friends. AND Anderson jumped right on to Michelle for a great first latch and feed!

So glad we had a lot of food and fluids. The birthing center was incredible. We were able to rest for several hours in a comfy queen sized bed with pillows and dim lights. The nurses came in periodically to check on us and do vitals. I was pleasantly surprised at the ease with which Anderson nursed for the first time. We've had our adventures since then, but that first latch was flawless.

Per birthing center protocol we were to be discharged only six hours after the placenta was delivered at 2:17pm which meant we'd start the process around 6:30pm. Michelle needed to go to the bathroom for real, first things first, so we sat her up and had her stand at the edge of the bed to get her bearing. She seemed okay at first but then said she felt weak. As we were about to lie her down again she started tipping toward me and the bed. I thought she was still awake and in control but she definitely was not. She had blacked out and when we turned her on her back I could see her eyes rolling and hear her light moaning and I was terrified. It looked like she had had a seizure. Fortunately a few additional nurses including Linda and Manya had arrived and were ready to help. I stuck a knee under one part of her body and hefted her up on to the bed where she quickly gained consciousness and was counseled to rest again and restore her fluids.

How annoying. 

We ate, drank, and were merry for some time before she tried again with apparent success. She was able to go to the bathroom, shower, and get dressed before she knelt down and this time expressed that she was sure she would faint. With the advanced notice, three of us were able to catch her and lie her down gently as she did in fact faint. Two times in one day meant that we would have to be non-emergency transported to the hospital. This would mean that Michelle would be taken via ambulance and Anderson and I would follow. She laid on the bathroom floor, recovering for about 30 minutes before they moved her to the bed and hooked her up to an IV.

Again, how annoying. I drank two liters of water, a liter of juice/electrolyte mix, ate carob almond squares, carrots, cheese and saltines, and a greek yogurt banana muffin. And I STILL passed out again. I am grateful I was able to make it through the bathroom and shower before going down again though, and I'm grateful Garrett was close by both times so I could just wilt against him. This is probably the stage at which the excitement of the day waned quickly. I'd really been looking forward to going home to our own bed and settling into our routine. Unfortunately, that was not to be. 

As an aside, I don't think I adequately described how great the newly built birthing center really was (beyond the excellent staff). It's comfort and quality was brought to my attention more so after being transported to the hospital. At the birthing center we had a huge tub, music and light controls, a queen sized bed that Michelle and I could both comfortably lay in and an absence of machines, the barrage of nurses, and the sick odor that often permeates a hospital room.

Seriously though. The birthing center was incredible and luxurious (nicer than a high-star hotel/ B&B). Nice tile floors, large birthing tub (big enough for three people... or one pregnant lady and hubby), comfy queen bed (a real bed), tiled bathroom with walk in shower, full kitchen (sans stove and oven). It was so soothing to have Garrett in bed beside me, with enough room for us to wiggle around and adjust so I could be comfortable. It was also nice having enough room to hold Anderson without worrying about having him slide off of me onto the floor. By contrast, hospital beds are pretty heinous. They put me into a labor and delivery room, since the recovery rooms were all occupied. And they assigned me a labor and delivery nurse. Who, after the phenomenality of the midwives, was a most lackluster presence and support (overbearing tactless bully cough cough). I was pleased with the goodies the hospital sent us home with (loads of pampers, mesh underpants for yours truly, amazing overnight pads, dermaplast, hemorrhoids pads, and some cool instant ice packs). There was also some machine that wasn't monitoring anything, but kept spewing printouts the whole night. 

Anyways, because the call for transport was non-emergent, the EMTs took over an hour to arrive. They were a perfect mix. The lead EMT was confident, loud and got down to business. His second, Van, was kind, sociable and opposite to the lead. He quickly extended his tatooed arm and turned his bald smiling head towards each of us, introducing himself in turn. I knew Michelle was in good hands and my only concern at that point was the brief separation that would occur as we journeyed over to the hospital. I found the Stork parking lot with relative ease and Anderson and I were quickly reunited with momma, and my worries were largely abated.

Despite how annoying the whole end part of the day was, I was very pleased with how everyone (up until the hospital) handled the situation. The midwives were apologetic, but firm and confident. After I asked a few questions about what could cause me to pass out, what complications might be there, etc. In short, my transport to the hospital was just to make sure that everything was okay, for me to have some tests and be monitored. Everyone was calm and at ease, and it made a potentially high-stress situation merely irritating. Although watching Garrett walk out the door to put Anderson in the car and follow us was really hard. I knew I'd see him in just a few minutes, but that separation was hard. BUT yay for a first ambulance ride! And it wasn't even dire circumstances. 

Why did Michelle faint twice? We will likely never know. She didn't lose an excess of blood, she ate and drank high nutrient and sugar dense foods. The only thing it could have been (aside from the fact that she had just birthed a small human) was something tied to the late delivery of the placenta, or that could be chalked up to red hair (the midwives at the birthing center and nurses at the hospital both seemed to share this as a legitimate possibility—huh?). I think I will stop there for now and leave a description of the hospital for another post.

It is funny that both the midwives as well as the labor and delivery nurse mentioned my "red" hair. The other thing we learned is that passing out is quite common in the recovery rooms at the hospital when women get up to shower or relieve themselves. There's a lot of shifting organs and fluids, and sometimes it messes with blood pressure. The L&D nurse also said I might just be a "light weight" who has a hard time with labor. I think that's what I decided I did. not. like her. I just delivered a human being in 7 hours without pain meds and minimal tearing, thank you very much. 

In sum, the whole labor and deliver process was overwhelming, exhausting, and easily the most elating experiences I have ever had. Our baby was born healthy and strong. Michelle performed amazingly and despite passing out was safe and being taken care of by me and competent nursing. We felt truly blessed, especially at a time when others had lost children in utero or soon after and knowing that we once worried we might not be able to have children. We thank the Lord for the beautiful and great blessing Anderson is in our lives. And that we were able to take him home with us so soon after birth.

Amen. It truly was a humbling experience and I feel we are blessed on so many accounts. While pregnancy had its ups and downs, and labor and delivery was easily the most physically challenging thing I've ever done, the whole experience was unifying and empowering. I'm full of gratitude and love, and though I can't say I'm excited to have another addition to our family any time soon, I wouldn't trade our experience for anything different. 

Sunday, July 5, 2015

Cali N' Titos

Here's another itty bitty post. I wisely purchase the lifetime care package when I picked up Michelle's wedding ring so she gets free cleanings and can have some of the specific etchings refurbished as well. The catch is that the closest Fred Meyer or affiliate is nearly two hours away and not even in a convenient location like Atlanta. Fortunately, there is one in Athens, GA and there just so happens to be a delicious restaurant  there called Cali N' Titos. Last year when I was exploring research topics and partnerships we met up with some folk at UGA who took us here for dinner. It started as a shack but has grown into a huge, themed restaurant. They serve a lot of foods from the south and have some of the best shakes I've ever had.

 


 

Among the many other attractions (rides for kids, fuzbol, music, etc.) they have a little photo booth. Man I look good with an open shirt and a guitar in my hands. But I look even better with my beautiful wife beside me.




My Strange Addiction

If you've ever seen the TV documentary series My Strange Addiction you'd know it "focuses on people with unusual compulsive behaviors" (Wikipedia, para. 1).

And now, on the latest episode of My Strange Addiction, starring Garrett and Michelle Stone: "Monopoly Deal."






We play this game pretty much daily and it usually starts with one of us itching to play saying "do you"..."YES" says the other person knowing what we are going to ask before our sentence is complete. It's a great, simple game with a bit of strategy and a bit o' luck. Michelle tends to beat me most of the time but when I win, I win big (see above). Highly recommend it. The end.

Another Taste of Tranquility...

Spending time with the grands in Orangeville was a treasured part of our courtship and time together in Utah. We couldn't imagine being back in Utah without taking some time to pop down to Orangeville and visit with Gerry and Janice. They are beautiful people living in a beautiful place. 

Life moves a little slower in Orangeville and apparently we do too in our old age (just turned 27...). Here's how our first day in O-ville went. Wake up. Eat Breakfast. Go to church. Eat Lunch. Sleep. Eat Dinner. Go to bed. If every day was sleeping, eating, and a little dose of church, oh what a day that would be. Before you decide we are a bunch of sloths though, cut us a break, we did have a long flight and busy evening the day before.  

Everyday we were visiting started with the same thing: A walk across different parts of town and a bit of weeding in the front yard. Here are a few pictures that Michelle snapped of the sunrise on our walks. Such a nice time to walk hand in hand with my lovely wife, talking, and taking pictures. Treasured times. 



We wanted to do something a little different during this trip so we drove down to Price with the grands and checked out the museum of natural history. It was quite good and had some nice exhibits of Dino bones, sloth and mammoth remains, and historical artifacts from the people who had lived in the area hundreds and thousands of years before.






This picture made Michelle laugh out load. I don't think I could make that face again nor should I try, in danger of hurting myself. My buddy Eric, a puppeteer, would be proud to see me practicing his art.



The looks of terror here (or glee on Michelle's face?) are supposed to reflect the fact that there is a velociraptor behind us. Also, I look like I shrunk an inch or two. Ahhhgggg.



Our stay here was wonderful and a taste of tranquility.

5 Myths About Forgiveness in the Wake of the Charleston Shooting



 

I was listening to NPR the other day and stumbled upon an interview with writer Roxane Gay titled Why I Can't Forgive Dylan Roof (see full interview here: http://www.npr.org/sections/codeswitch/2015/06/26/417675859/writer-roxane-gay-why-i-cant-forgive-dylann-roof). While I totally agree with one of her underlying messages, that what Dylan Roof did was a tragedy and he ought to be justly dealt with, I think she may have misunderstood and misrepresented what it means to forgive and why forgiveness matters.

I understand that it can be truly difficult to forgive someone, especially when that someone commits an atrocity like the Charleston shootings. However, I think if you can develop a correct understanding of what it means to forgive, the act of forgiveness will become so much more tangible and personally meaningful. In this post I will describe five myths about forgiveness that if understood will help you deal more justly, forgive more readily, and heal more quickly.

Myth #1: Forgiveness is about the Wrongdoer not the Wronged

While we tend to view forgiveness as some favor or merciful act bestowed upon a person who has wronged us, forgiveness, in reality, is about the forgiver, not the forgiven. In fact, forgiveness has nothing to do with the wrongdoer. Forgiveness has everything to do with you, the person who has been wronged. Think about it—who does your hate, anger, and grudge-holding really affect. When you withhold forgiveness you give the criminal/wrongdoer/perpetrator power or control over your thoughts and actions. You allow their actions to dictate how you feel and what you do. Forgiveness then, is empowering, it is a sign of strength, and it allows you to take control of your life. In contrast, withholding forgiveness consumes energies, faculties, and focus that could otherwise be directed towards more productive pursuits. Free yourself from a heavy burden and forgive!

Myth #2: Forgiveness is a Free Pass


Forgiveness is not a free pass. Forgiveness does not absolve the wrongdoer, nor is its purpose to let the perpetrator sleep easier at night. It isn't a get out of jail free card. You can forgive and still demand and see that justice is served. Take the Biblical anecdote of the woman taken in adultery for example. Yes, Jesus seemed to pardon her for the crime for which she was accused, but he also sent her away with the commission to "go and sin no more." The emphasis here is less on the crime committed and mercifully overlooked, but on the mandate that she "go" and change her life. While not punished per se, the woman was still held accountable—justice was still served—AND if you remember, Jesus was quick to point out that her accusers where far from perfect themselves, something we might keep in mind as we withhold forgiveness and cast judgements of our own.

Myth #3: Forgiveness is Forgetting

Perhaps you've heard the phrase "forgive and forget" but does this idea really hold any water? There are some things that are arguably impossible to forget and it would be irresponsible to do so. You will likely never forget being sexually assaulted nor should you forget and give the perpetrator free reign to victimize or assault again. Remembering is a form of wisdom and can provide us protection against future wrongs or guide us in our future decision making. Rather than making you cynical, it makes you cautious. Rather than forgetting, you can learn to remember differently and feel differently about situations in which you have been wronged.

Myth #4: Forgiveness is a form of White Privilege

The shooting at the Charleston AME church was undoubtedly a crime of hate, a racist act. However, I do not believe (this is admittedly coming from a privileged, White, male perspective) that asking the people of that community to forgive Roof or his family is a form of White privilege. Again, forgiveness isn't about dealing out free passes or absolving people of responsibility. It is about a personal state of mind and decision not to hate, hold grudges against, or become the very wrong that you ought to both forgive and despise. I think you are treading dangerous waters when you construe a freely chosen act of civility as a form of White privilege. Let those people heal in their own way. Let them stand against racism, and modern racism in all its forms ('whiteness', 'white privilege, etc.) without carrying and fostering the hate that promotes racist acts to begin with.

Myth #5: Forgiveness is Conditional

You know you've thought it. I have.
"When he says sorry or makes amends I will forgive...
"When she changes her ways I will forgive...
"I would never do something like that, so why should I be required to forgive such a heinous crime?"

Again, forgiveness is almost totally independent of the person to be forgiven. If someone is willing to hurt you so deeply (whether physically, emotionally, or otherwise) you can reasonably accept and expect that apologies and change will be a long time coming. You may find yourself ruminating and festering for a long time waiting for your wrongdoer to come around, change his ways, or make amends. And this time will be time wasted. Let it go. Don't forget. See it through. Demand justice. But let it go.

Conclusion

Vengeance, grudge holding, and anger are self-consuming. The inability to forgive, even the worst of trespasses will inevitably result in your own demise. Many a life has wasted away worrying more about revenge and wrongs than about moving forward and making things right. I would hate to see our culture and society embrace an anti-forgiveness mentality and head down a slippery slope of self-destruction, inner conflict, and even civil war. Let us choose to forgive.

Stone Family Reunion: Echo Lake House, Coalville, UT

Every other year the Stone Family (Immediately family only) gets together for a family reunion, usually at a campground, lodge, or cabin. This year we ended up at the Echo Lake House in Coalville, UT, a city with a wopping population of just over 1,400 people. To give you an idea of how big the town really is, we were told if we went to their BBQ cookout event scheduled for the weekend we were in town we would have doubled the attendance. 

The lake house itself was better than any of us had anticipated. Located on the edge of Echo Lake, it was furnished with gaming tables, a gym/theater room, basketball and volleyball courts, a jacuzzi tub...the works. We were all pleasantly surprised and feeling a little spoiled by how nice it was. There was a little stress as we drew names for who would be in which room (cross your fingers for the jetted tub—1st world problems at their best) but otherwise it was a very relaxing trip and so nice to be back out West and with family. The picture below doesn't really do it justice but this is the main room of the lodge with expansive windows overlooking the lake and local mountain range. 


We all took advantage of the dart board, air hockey table, card table, and especially the pool table which doubled as a ping pong table.



Andrew and Chelsea also brought along a new game that was classic for Utah and perfect for our family. John, Trevor, Riley and I were outside playing it constantly. The game, Spike Ball, is essentially a shrunken down version of volley ball played on what responds like a miniature trampoline rather than over a net. Essentially you and your teammate have three hits to carry the ball towards and bounce it once off of the trampoline and then the other team has a chance to return it. It was fast paced and so fun.



While Michelle and I lingered around the lodge and enjoyed some of its amenities (e.g. massage chair) or just chatting with family and playing games, we did get out and join everyone for a hike at the Upper Provo River Falls, which were beautiful and which I had not heard of in my seven years of hiking, guiding, and living in the state of Utah.





After the hike, we all stopped at an old diner that looked like a classy and tasty place to grab a meal. It was built to look like an old train car and it was in fact a relic of its time and a longstanding site in the area, however, the food was mediocre and Michelle and I were glad we had split our chicken salad sandwich instead of both getting our own meals. No one in our party was particularly excited about their meal but it was nice to be together. 
 

Me with one of my older sisters, Jen. We really enjoyed chatting with her and all our siblings for that matter. It was nice to be reconnected, especially to the non-Utah residents who we see/saw less often.
 

Lots of monopoly deal and skipbo were played around this table. We became a little obsessed and purchased a set of monopoly deal soon after returning home, which we now play constantly. Not sure why I sat so awkwardly...I look more like a growth out of Michelle's back in this picture than my own entity.


At one point we went for a quick jaunt on my parents bikes since their was a paved trail that ran along the lake's edge. The trip was short lived since the trail itself was short and the rain started to fall but I always enjoy getting out with my smart, beautiful, capable wife and exploring on foot or bike or whatever. 

Sadly, all things must come to an end. We took a red-eye flight home with Michelle sleeping on the floor of the Phoenix airport. It was quite miserable but we had a nice sleepy Sunday when we arrived home.






Saturday, July 4, 2015

Anniversary. Atlanta. Aquarium. Awesome.

Well our second anniversary is coming up (Woohoo, 2 years!!!!) and we decided that with baby on coming, we'd try to get out and celebrate our special day in a special way. We've been dying to go to the Atlanta Aquarium and had heard that if you ignore the terrible driving and the heat, Atlanta actually has a lot to offer. Our usual visits to the city have been limited to the boundaries of the temple grounds, IKEA, and Costco so we were excited to branch out, eat out, and enjoy ourselves. 

I have become a bit of a sucker for B&B's. I think it something about the home away from home feel, the delicious breakfasts, and the chance to occasionally meet with the owners and other patrons, are what draw me in. Its nice to hear their stories and avoid the sometimes stale and sterile feel of a hotel. Besides knowing that the owner was clanking around prepping food and doing laundry on the other side of a door that I am confident was not sound proof, and the fear that the bed was literal going to break beneath us (just from sleeping of course), this particular B&B was not so bad. 

The name of the place is Ponce De Leon and it is located in a great little suburban neighborhood. Full of life and joggers, and absent of turn lanes, it reminded me a bit of West Hollywood or parts of LA that are just off the beaten path and filled with energy and character.  

The owner, Lana, was a snarky but kind older woman who ran the three room property on her own. She had some interesting experiences to share (which I will divulge later) and interpreted our request for a healthier breakfast option/omelets to mean we wanted semi-greasy bacon covered breakfast sandwich (delicious...but not super healthy). 


We stayed in the cottage suite, which had a Hollywood theme which basically meant it had five or six prominent pictures of Marylin Monroe and a coffee table book of the same subject matter.  All in all, with the swinging daybed, well lit patio, and litter of Christian over-toned romance novels and self help books, the place was neat and left only a few things to be desired.



The house cat was a sassy, 'rotund,' albeit friendly little lass with stubby rear legs that she dragged beneath her slow moving body. She was quite adorable but not particularly mobile. We enjoyed her company during breakfast and left in haste to hide our guilt as she meowed to be let out through the door through which we had just departed. 


One of the highlights of the trip was our visit to the aquarium. I had done a bit of advance research and apparently the Georgia Aquarium is supposed to be the largest in the nation. Prior to our visit I had seen the Seattle aquarium, Monterrey Bay aquarium, and Adobon aquarium in New Orleans and none of them really measured up. The sheer (Michelle corrected my miss-spelling 'shear,' giving this phrase a whole new meaning) size of the exhibits and types of species living therein were awe inspiring. We sat and stared for ages in some areas.



The manta rays, whale sharks, and beluga whales were by far our favorite marine animals. Their size and scope was incredible when compared to the scuba divers cleaning the glass beneath them. In fact, the divers were dwarfed by the manta rays' wingspans, which were nearly double in size.




 A sample of some debris and trash. Don't pollute! Save the whales. Literally.


Had to do it. If you can't tell, the sign says "big-bellied seahorse" so of course I begged Michelle to take this picture and she reluctantly agreed. Get it...big bellied. Okay.



Before taking off for Atlanta, we asked around and  got some recommendations for good eats. One of the places was a local, start-up called LottaFruitta. They served smoothies and fruit cups made from fresh fruit in a tiny shop with an Ipad for a cash register and sticky tables. So good. So fresh. Highly recommend it if you need a tasty snack (maybe not for a meal)...and it is right up the street from the Martin Luther King home and historical site (which we didn't have time to visit this time around but hear is fantastic and under frequented).


The other place we went to was called Rias Bluebird. We were significantly under tattooed compared to their other clientele and staff but the place had a nice vibe and a yummy chicken salad croissant sandwich. We would definitely eat there again.


All in all, it was a nice and relaxing trip (despite my occasional anxieties about our timeline). We probably wouldn't got to Ponce de Leon again but might recommend it others and have no regrets. You live and you learn.

Oh and I promised I would talk more about Lana. Apparently she had a dream in which the Holy Spirit told her (And this was supposedly the only time the spirit had talked with her) that she was supposed to marry one of the young unmarried parishioners at her local church. Apparently the head pastor has been pointing him in that direction as well. Cross your fingers and stay tuned (p.s. if you know any local Atlanta parishioners, don't tell them anything, this is our little secret)!

Monday, March 9, 2015

Catch ups (not to be confused with ketchup) and Costco


We have been lax in our blogging for the past few months partially due to the weather (we got an inch of snow) and a schedule we haven't quite adjusted to. This post is our first attempt in several months (we are optimistic it will be a successful return to diligence!) at documenting our time here. Since it's best to bite off small pieces of the elephant we've been neglecting, we'll start with our weekend trip to Atlanta. 

About once a month we make the two hour drive to Atlanta to go to the temple. To clarify, it's a two hour drive one way. Technically we are in the Columbia, SC temple district, but that drive would tack on an additional hour of driving, in addition to a toll booth or two. No thanks bub. While it's a drastic change from the 15 minute (max!) drive in Provo, we've enjoyed our trips for the most part. The drive down is a time for us to babble, catch up, and listen to podcasts. The only downside is the driving style of nearly everyone in this area. Apparently the idiocy (pardon my rude frankness) is something that is infamous in this part of the south, and it's bad enough to make the saintliest granny toss a few ill-wishes and foul phrases to a driver. Or two. The highways are all two-lanes. By law, slower traffic is to keep to the right, and all drivers are to keep right unless passing. The minimum speed is 40 mph, and maximum speed is 70 mph. Naturally you get slow people in the left lane, and fast people passing on the right, with the occasional reckless driver riding your bumper and semi trucks cutting cars off to pass other trucks at a whopping mile per hour increase. 

But I digress.

The temple is always a great experience, and we've enjoyed participating in monthly worship.We usually schedule a Costco trip as well, and this jaunt was no exception. We splurged on a slice of pizza and a churro, both of which were surprisingly satisfying.


Additionally, the weather has been a phenomenal mid 60-70 degree sunny, contrasted to the ice and snow and 20 degrees of the past couple of weeks. Much praise and blessings! It's a happy day when we can open our windows and have the temperature inside go from 60 degrees to 70 degrees.

That documented, things are going well overall. We will play more detailed catch-up in the next few weeks and put a few more pictures up.

Wednesday, February 25, 2015

Compounding Effects

A friend and I have recently been discussing some deep concepts regarding time, relativity, and the enormity of space. Of utmost importance to me during these conversations is the realization that despite how infinitely large the universe is, and how small and insignificant we may feel or seem in comparison, God is highly aware of, interested in, and invested in us individually.

We are blessed with miracles, mercies, and opportunities everyday that we often miss because we aren't looking for them or don't have faith in their reality. I testify that God lives and loves us and that he consistently seeks to bless us if only we are looking for those blessings.

This has been most obvious to me as I consider how the Lord blesses me, and how those blessings are usually exponential or compounding. As I was reading an ensign article about temple and family history work this morning I noticed that the Lord does not just give us a commandment and a blessing and leave it at that. Usually these blessings are cyclical and compounding. The example that Elder Anderson gave had to do with our knowledge and faith in Christ. He said, "as you contribute to this sacred work (temple and family history work) your knowledge and faith in the Savior will increase and you will receive a more certain witness that life continues beyond the veil." What he did not say, that I have come to understand is that as our "knowledge and faith in the Savior" increases, so will our desire to "contribute to this sacred work" which will again increase our "knowledge and faith." The gospel is ripe with these compounding effects where obedience results in faith, power, and blessings which instills greater obedience and results in exponential growth in faith, power, and blessings. It is such an amazing system or process. IF we truly turn our life over to God and become immersed in that process: 1. It will become EASIER and 2. It will happen FASTER. The compounding effect will occur more readily and we will be more receptive to and aware of it.

I believe God wants us to be happy and that the best way to do that is to become like him. The goal is not always to give up our will (though sometimes we need to do that) but to learn his will, because when we learn his will and see how it will bless us, we will desire to change our will such that it aligns with or is the same as his. Obedience isn't coercive, it is agentic. We obey, are blessed exponentially and see that we can be happier with and through him than we could otherwise and have a greater desire to obey. While I am not perfect at following this principle now, I can testify that it is true and our lives will be blessed exponentially as we follow God's will.