"Chaos" In The Making cont'd

Seems like yesterday I was at the end of my 40 weeks, doing every known idea to speed myself into labor.  I tried EVERYTHING from vigorous walks, stimulation of the...sensitive area, extra adult time, and shoving primrose up...cough, cough. Nothing helped, just for future advice to some.

Well, we went in on a EARLY Tuesday morning to be induced.  Oh, I had the giggles with excitement and nervousness. They started that Pitocin and within 30 minutes, if not shorter, the crampies started. Game Face Time!  Yes, I am the one that deepens the voice and does the pep talk in the huddle before games.  You can only imagine how this went down. Cheyenne and I leaned in, him yelling, "I wish pain upon you!"  Both of us jumping up and down with our little grunts and then BREAK.  I was FIRED!  I grabbed my birthing ball with confidence and was ready to pop this child out!  Time to focus!

Labor is definitely not a time of glamour and modesty.  That all goes out the window.  You are pumped full of fluids and poked by numerous people several times an hour.  No FUN! About 17 hours into it, the smiles go away and the beast comes out.  I did not have any kind of meds, so I got the full labor all at once. OUCHY!   Now, I had the sudden urge to push.  Everyone left but the nurse and Cheyenne.  Ok, now we were going to push on the second contraction.  I bared down and gave a push, and OWE! (The concept of giving birth is beautiful but in reality, it is painful.) Killian's heart rate dropped and then I was yelled at by the nurse to do this funky maneuver and was slapped in the face with an non-rebreather mask. (Wore it through most of the pushing)  His heart rate went up and life was good again.  Finally, the midwife arrived. 

There were times my rear end was in the air, in peoples faces, leg nearly above my head..I tried every possible position.  About 2 hours into pushing, it was entertaining, because at that time they had to call for back up nurses, 4 nurses+midwife+Cheyenne...2 were holding my legs, midwife was holding the sheet where we played tug of war, and the other 2 were wiping the sweat off or rubbing my back. They were all doing the huddle pep talk and said, "push, push, PUUUUUSSSHHHHHHH!"  Then, vomit, everywhere.  They just ripped off the gown completely.  By this time, modesty is laughed upon.

I am proud of myself though, I never screamed.

 After 3 hours of strenuous pushing, it was now time for an emergency c-section.  SCARY!  I was wheeled into the OR.  Killian was lodged pretty bad in my pelvis.  I overheard the doc talking about how he cannot get the bleeding to stop.  The fear was setting in and then I passed out.  

My son was finally born.  Sadly, I do not remember much, not until 2 days after delivery. However,  I do remember someone making a comment about hoping it does not look like an alien and the first glimpse I saw of my son...he had the worst cone head ever.  The doctor even said he has not seen one that bad.   

The picture is 2 days after, so imagine his head sticking out
another 3inches or so

December 16, 2009       7lbs 19 inches

,

"Chaos" In The Making

I never really talked about making any kiddos.  Most of everyone that knows me could never picture me being a mother. Even my pops thought this.  (I was looked at as this hardcore tomboy). What people did not realize is that I wanted several little me's running around.  I was married at 19 to my high school sweetheart and we never tried nor did we not try to get prego.  3 years into our marriage, I was told that I would not be able to have children because part of my female anatomy just was not functioning properly. (Of course, this was Navy docs...*smh*).  We pretty much gave up hope after that.  

So, 3 months later, I was just cleaning out a bunch of rubbish in the house and stumbled upon a pee stick.  I figured, what the heck, for giggles I would just use it, cannot let it go to waste.  I did my little pee dance and did my deed.  Before I could even cap the friggin thing, it already showed 2 very distinguished, dark pink lines.  Then I thought back..that explains why I all of sudden became well endowed and fell asleep every stupid minute of the day...Yay! I was not just getting fat.  I pulled the pants up, not even sure I flushed, washed the hands, or even buttoned, but I ran through that house like a crazed, wild woman about to attack.  I slammed that door open and screamed to Cheyenne, "I am PREGNANT!"  He just laughed at me until he realized I was serious, that jaw hit the ground.  I had that pee stick in front of me, kind of like a soldier that has his sword pointing and yelling, "CHARGE!"

I was definitely a different breed of pregnancy.  Probably done...ok, did things I should not had done.  I was 2 months prego, repelling and climbing up vigorous "mountian"

I still fished and done all of the things I loved and enjoyed in life.

Even went on my yearly deer hunt at 9 months prego.(uumm, it was a 5 point)

Not only was I the same ole gal, I gained a few quirks that some people rather enjoyed....oddly,  April, LOVED me while I was BFP (big fat & pregnant per Jeremy).  I was super girly who talked a hundred miles a minute, compared to the secluded hermit that was going to starve to death.

This was one of the happiest moments I had in my life. (probably helped since I did not experience the nasty spewing of the mouth  or have the fat munchies.)

To Be Cont'd.... 

Storms

Many people freak out when a storm comes or even when they hear about a storm.  I can see how it could be scary.  They are loud, windy, threats of fire or flooding, and they are just completely unpredictable.  Storms to me can be beautiful and relaxing.  Listening to the thunder and rain beat down on the roof, and the gloominess that surrounds it...hhhmm, very peaceful.  Storms remind me of my autistic son, Killian. 

Killian was my first so I never thought anything was wrong with him. He never acted like a normal baby. He was always quiet and never got into anything. Always kept to himself, figuring out how things work.  He got his first car at 6 months and has been obsessed since. He knew which way was forward and backward.  Still to this day he has to have his cars in his hand at all times, even when he sleeps. He also lines his cars up in a perfect little line (you do not dare touch them).

When he about 14 months, this is when I knew something was not right.  He still could not say a word, understand anything you say (yeah, he gave you this look like you are crazy), and his tantrums were becoming violent.

Killian now has a 1 word vocabulary of about 20 words.  He still does not understand.  There are certain noises he is afraid of and does not like the feeling of falling. He has tantrums about 90% of the day and that consist of hitting himself in the face or head while biting his hand or hitting me.  These episodes last 10 minutes     up to 2 hours.  

It is hard to deal with his tantrums.  Especially, in public.  I have had numerous people come to me and tell me how unfit I was as a mother, my child is a spoiled brat, or all your son needs is discipline.  I hear this about everyday. I see everyone pointing and snickering towards me. I break.  I crumble almost everyday.  I think it is mostly because it is out of my hands.  I have no control at all.  I feel helpless and it hurts to see my son being tortured and all I can do is watch.

Nights like last night remind me of how beautiful he is.  He is extremely smart for his age and he is very loving.  Even though he does not tell me, he shows me his love. I am happy he is not ordinary, that would be too boring. I know he will have the same chances as other children do. 

Killian is my storm.  He is unpredictable and you have no control but he is full of beauty.  There is nothing I would change.

   

Zesty Lemonade

(listen to "soulshine" or "turn and turn again" while reading...gives it that zing)

I had someone ask me why I chose lemons.  I am going to pretend that person already knows the analogy behind it and that they want my perspective on the subject.  

When I think of life, I think of lemons and that wonderful overused phrase, "when life hands you lemons, make lemonade." Lets take a second and think about lemons.  They are bright yellow, so they automatically cheer you.  They have that wonderful citrus smell that makes your mouth water.  Finally, they are juicy!  This just makes me feel all kinds of excitement.

Yes, lemons are bright, put off a delightful aroma, and look so dang tasty.  You now start to dig into the lemon.  You take a bite out and it will make you pucker those lips.  The juice squirts you in the eye or runs into a tiny cut, I do not care who you are, you will squeal like a little girl. After being tortured, you decide to leave it be, turning this lemon brown and waste away. 

You are now left with decisions.  This is when you want something sweeter and decide to make some lemonade.  In order to make it, you have to grab that sour, juicy citrus and squeeze it. You have to "man up" and take that stinging in your eye or cut that you have.  Once you are done with one lemon, you have to grab another and do it again and again, until you have accomplished your goal.  If you keep going, you will have that sweet, succulent lemonade that will make you sigh with refreshment.

This is exactly how life is.  If you stare out a window at life, it looks warm and fuzzy.  Then you step out into the world and it will come and bite you. This is when you make goals for something sweeter or let life overcome you. If you choose to make your life grand, you will face many obstacles.  Sometimes you will be hit repeatedly over and over.  That is when you pick yourself up and fight through the "juice in the eye or cut." 

Remember, nothing will come easy. Life will hit you with everything that it has.  Just stay strong and fight with your head held high. You will accomplish and be rewarded with your "zesty lemonade."  

I have gone through many triumphs since I was a little girl. I continue to go through the world's carousel.  You go up and down in continuous circles. Life is hard.  The world is hard.  It is up to you on your choices and the direction you want to follow.  This is why my life is a "lemon."

In the beginning...

(Turn on music, more dramatic when you are reading)

Well, I have done it.  I am now in the circle of blogging.  I have never done anything like this before or have even written journals about myself.  Makes me feel a little conceited.  This is going to be more than a log of my daily life.  I will never say, "I am now eating a banana." (Hhhhmm I might actually do that).  Ok, if I do write about eating a banana, I promise to have some kind of education behind it.

The point of my bloggy is to help inspire, mostly for me but I hope others will also gain something from it.  I am kind of weird and I like to write things down and analyze everything to better understand.  Like I said, WEIRD!

In the beginning... we  have already covered a microscopic bit of point of this blog.  Now, time for an intro of me.

My name is Erin Ireland (I know, a little redundant) and I am a little shy of 27 years of age. I am currently in the paramedic program.  I am a very adventurous gal.  I love the beauty of everything.  I am also a gummy bear and zombie junkie!

Killian is my oldest son.  He is 2 years old, that will be 3 on the 16th.  I call him "Chaos".  Completely obsessed with Lightning McQueen and airplanes.  I guess what 2-3 old is not.





Gavin is my youngster.  He is 15 months old.  For those that do not talk mommy, that is 1 year and 3 months.  Now, I call him "Mayhem"  He is full of needless destruction! Just like a younger sibling, he loves torturing his older brother. (I know because I was the youngest for awhile).

That's all I have to say for now.  You will learn more through out this journey.  There will be sweet and sour moments and maybe some lemon juice in the eye.

Please, be patient with me while I still try to figure everything out on here.