Thursday, September 27, 2012

Quinner: 2 weeks (late)

I wish I could be peaceful and chubby and sleep whenever I wanted.

Yes, I'm super behind, but for posterity, here you go.

At his two week PKU appointment, well, nearly two weeks ago, the Quinnster passed with flying colors.

9 lbs 2 oz 
(up from his birth weight of 8 lbs 11 oz and I was so happy he gained weight and hadn't lost any,)

21 1/4 inches 
(up from birth measurement of 20 inches...I think that they must have shorted him on his birthday.  Or, he grew 1 and 1/4 inches in two weeks.
These measurements put the little guy in the 75th percentile overall and considering that he and I are still experimenting with nursing, I was very pleased that he's growing and wasn't stalled out or shrinking.

Yeah, Mom.

Double yeah, Quinn

Just left him for the first time in 41 weeks. Im totally freaking out

Tuesday, September 25, 2012

Alpine Loop

I haven't been to church for 5 weeks.  Two weeks being on "bed rest" and three weeks with a new baby.  Honestly?  I sort of miss it.  A three hour block often feels LONG, but when you don't go for a while, it's sort of sad.  I'll be back this Sunday.  I'm looking forward to it.  If I can sit still for that long.

This past Sunday, we went to the church of the fall leaves.  Because there weren't official meetings due to the Brigham City Temple dedication, we went for a drive.  It was a lovely afternoon full of the beauty of the earth.

We took the Alpine Loop road from Timpanogos down to Sundance and back home.  The boys were on their best behavior, we stopped for snacks, and everyone but our dad fell asleep once we got back on the freeway and headed home.

It was my husband's idea to go for the drive.  It was a good idea.  He must have known I needed to see the leaves - one of my most favorite things.  As a special treat, he didn't even wear his headphones in the car and hardly listened to football.  Instead?  He talked to me almost the entire time (except when I was asleep of course).

It made me happy.

A very good Sunday.

My life. Sunday morning.
The perfect start to our lazy Sunday

Alpine loop.

Mountain on fire.

Monkeys In the mountains

Friday, September 21, 2012

Coming out of the dark!

First jeans and real shoes since the month of May.

This may have been the week to end all weeks.  In fact, most of it is a blur and I don't remember many of the details, or how I actually survived.  It was tough I tell ya, tough!

Monday was my 2 week incision check with my OB.  I was actually excited to go to the appointment because I had a laundry list of complaints.  For about 5 days prior, I just wasn't feeling well, with my worst symptom being the most insane headache I'd had for years.  On Monday, in particular, it was so bad that I told Ross it felt like my brain was on fire.

Well, it was.  

First, we all took Quinn to the doctor for his 2 week checkup.  All was well (another post...) and we loaded up in the truckster and headed to my appointment.  By the time I got into the exam room my head was just pounding, worse than it had been all day long.  My doc came in, I told him of my symptoms and he checked my blood pressure.  It was something like 160/99.  Pretty high.  We talked for a few minutes about the fact that I could have postpartum toxemia and he rushed me down to the lave for some blood draws.  I was a STAT order!

My doc called me later that evening to tell me that all my blood work was normal.  I'd been checking my pressures at home and they were a bit sporadic, but nothing as high as when I was in the office.  It had been a long day - my first full day back on mom duty as a mother of three.  So maybe the pressure was just getting to me?

Because my labs were normal and my BP wasn't totally insanely crazy, my doc just told me over the phone to take it easy and monitor myself for the next day or so and if the majority of my pressures were over 140/90 to give him a call.

I followed instructions and on Tuesday, I seemed to be okay.  The headache was bad but bearable and as long as I spend most of my time with the baby, ignoring the two iggies, I did okay.  But Tuesday was the calm before the storm.

Wednesday started out fine and in the late morning, my father-in-law took charge of the boys so I could have a bit of quiet.  All was well and I actually felt okay, better than I had on Monday at least.  The headache revved up around 1:00.  The boys came home around 1:20 or so.  I checked my blood pressure and I was high - 164/96.  I took all three boys into the bedroom for some "quiet time" and sat on the floor with Quinn.  As soon as I sat down, I started to shake.  My head was spinning, I felt dizzy and my brain was warm, like something had burst in my head.  It was all I could do to tell the boys to stay in their room and get into mine with the baby.

I closed the door.  I sat down and checked my blood pressure. 177/114.  Holy freakin' cow.  I started to shake hard and started to sob.  I texted and called Ross and he rushed home.  I must have been quite a sight because as soon as he got home, he got all three boys ready, called my doctor (left a message) and was trying to get me up and out of the house to take me to the emergency room at the local hospital.  I couldn't stand.  I couldn't talk.  I was soaking in sweat and quite literally thought that I might die - that something in my brain had burst.

For the next 20 minutes, as we waited for my doctor to call back, my blood pressure fluctuations were insane.  Finally, we got word....I should be put to bed immediately and a prescription for a medication (Labetalol) that I'd taken before Elliott was born was being called in to the pharmacy.  Ross got me to bed, covered me with the biggest, warmest quilt we have, put an ice pack on my head and left me and my melting brain to sleep.

He woke me hours later with medication.

That was Wednesday night.  Today, two days later, two days with a new medication in my system, I finally feel like I'm out of a fog I've been in for nearly two weeks.  I feel okay today.  I have almost no headache today.  I feel fairly calm today.  The last two weeks have been the hardest of my life maybe, physically speaking.  I've had to try and keep my act together when I've felt so awful, so out of sorts, that I just wasn't sure I would actually survive the day.

Thank heavens for a good husband who can help me and only works 12 minutes from home.  If he hadn't have been able to come home, who knows what would have happened.


Wednesday, September 12, 2012

Freudian Slip

Just a small glimpse into the chaos of new baby land

Me:  I have the worst headache I've had in, like, 10 months.
Him:  I wonder why.  I wonder what triggered it.
Me:  I don't know.  I haven't had any orange juice. (side note:  orange juice is a migraine trigger for me)
Him:  I did.  I wonder if I put some sort of boobie doll curse on you by drinking it?
Me:  What?
Him:  You know, a boobie doll?
Me:  What?
Him:  Oh, I mean voodoo doll.  Maybe I put a voodoo curse on you.

Yes, there is a certain topic in our house these days that is apparently on everyones minds.

Family Time

On Saturday, because I was absolutely stir crazy and actually felt okay we decided to go to lunch.  From me saying, "okay, lets go" to us actually getting out the door it took 35 minutes.  Not to shabby for the first time trying to get five people out the door.  At lunch, Quinn was definitely the best behaved.  He was the only child that didn't cry.

On Sunday, we headed out to my mom's for Sunday dinner.  Our second outing at a family of five.  Our departure was much more smooth, but it still took us a bit longer than anticipated to get out the door.  I knew though that my mom would get all sentimental having her five grandchildren together for the first time so I took my nice camera.  I cannot tell you how long it's been since I used a real camera and not just my phone but I'm glad I took the camera.  We got some cute pictures of all the little monkeys together.

Jack and Quinn.  Exactly three months and 2 days between them but they'll be in different grades in school.

My mom and my boys

Grandmama with all the goofballs

Little Miss Molly and her static.  It's got to be rough being the only girl.

Five little monsters.  Grandma wanted Uncle Willie to be in the picture.  He had to remind her that he is her son, not her grandson.

Monday, September 10, 2012

It's week since you looked at me!

Mom!  I'm awake!  Hurry and take my picture!

The Quinnster has been a part of our family, on the outside, for one week.  Time flies so quickly.  In one week we've managed to keep our house fairly clean (except today because dad went back to work and I don't want to make the beds or pick up toys but I did load the dishwasher and start a load of laundry), eat dinner every night, and go to bed at a reasonable time.  

In one week this little baby of mine has changed so much.  He is very sleepy - more sleepy than the other two have been.  Ross joked with me yesterday that perhaps this third time around we have a kid who does what babies are supposed to do, as opposed to the other two.  Elliott had colic and just screamed at us all day long and hardly slept.  Wyatt was captain puker and that kid wouldn't have slept as an infant if his life depended on it.  But Quinn?  He's got eating, sleeping and pooping down to an art form.  

What else can he do?


He can pee through diapers like nobody's business.  On Saturday he went through at least 6 outfits, pee'd on Grandma Judy and pooped all over me and we just had to throw away everything he was wearing because it was just too much to handle.

He can eat like a champ.  I decided to BF this time around (yes, I am sort of embarrassed by it and cannot even say the actual words but I'm doing it and for me at least, it's pretty easy) and am feeding this kid almost all day long but I've at least caught up on the Kardashians so no complaints there.

He sleeps the day away and is totally nocturnal and had me up last night, with some help from dad, from 1:00 - 5:00 am.  But, on Saturday night, minus waking up to quickly drink bottles, he slept through the night.  Yeah baby!

Hello. My name is Quinn. I'm a sleep addict. For my 1 week birthday, except to eat, i slept through the night.

He is happy and calm and hardly cries.

His gooey belly button umbilical thing fell off last night and though looking at his belly button totally grosses me out I'm soldiering through it like a good mom.

He can hold his head up (or at least tries to) when he's up on your shoulder.  Such an amazing feat for such a small little person.

He can fart as loud as his brothers though he's a dainty little burper.

HE IS NOT A PUKER!!!!!!!!  I repeat, he is not a puker (knock on wood)

Words cannot express how much I love this little guy.  He has been sent to us directly from heaven and I cry a little bit every day when it's just the two of us and I get to thinking about where he was before he came to us.  All the wonderful heavenly spirits and family members he was hanging out with.  Such a lucky little boy to have been with all those people who love him.  And we are a lucky little family to have him here on earth with us.


Thursday, September 06, 2012

Quinn Theodore

His tummy may only be the size of a marble, but he quite happily fills it every hour. It's like I'm his own personal soda fountain. :)

Today the Quinnster is 5 days old.  Wow.  We got home from the hospital yesterday and cut off all our ID bands, but I still feel like I'm wearing mine.  We had a good evening at home, though a bit loud and crazy to say the least.  My awesome aunt Karen not only fed us delicious dinner last night, she cooked it at our house so it would be warm.  Thank you so much Karen!  The big boys took turns holding the baby boy in between mom feeding said baby boy non-stop all evening.  Dad, who is so tired but can't catch a break busied himself taking care of all of us while also trying to watch a little opening day NFL football.

Our first night home, as with the first night home with any new baby, was crazy.  Lots of crying and pacing the house and diapering and confusion.  It really has been so long since we've had a baby that it's all a bit daunting.  Compounded by the fact that I need a step-stool to get in and out of my bed and to do pretty much anything is super hard, let's just say the mom and dad in this house are exhausted.  But, I suppose it's the best kind of exhaustion so we'll take it.

But, I digress because our first night home isn't what this blog post is going to be about.  This post is to have much more meaning than simply complaining about midnight feedings.

I know that there are a million and one reasons why people give the names they do to their children.  For me in particular however, it is very important that my children have names of significance.  That their names tell a story, their family history, and that their names are something they can be proud of.

Elliott Moyle is named after my pioneer ancestor John Rowe Moyle.  This amazing man worked on the stone carving of the Salt Lake Temple for over 20 years.  He lived in Alpine, Utah, and every week walked  44 miles round trip to Salt Lake to donate his time and talents and halfway through his service, he got kicked by the family cow, had to have his leg amputated, carved himself a wooden leg and as soon as he was ready started that 22 mile walk again.

William Wyatt is named after a rich history of family members.  The name William goes back generations in both mine and Ross' families, but there were a few important William's that stood out.  My Grandpa Petersen (who died in a car accident when my dad was 12) was William DeWayne.  Ross' grandpa who passed away in June was William Tupper.  My brother is William Karl.  The Chick, like Elliott, has a lot to live up to.

In April, when we found out that baby number 3 was going to be a boy, we decided that his middle name would be Theodore.  Theodore is Ross' Grandpa Ted.  For a while we thought about using it as a first name and calling the baby Theo or Teddy but it just never sounded quite right.  We did though, want to pay tribute to Ross' Grandpa Ted.  He is such a good man, and loves Ross and our boys so much that it just made sense.

Visiting family.

As I wrote several times on this silly blog though, coming up with a first name for baby boy number three was more than a challenge.  In the last few months we literally batted around hundreds of names, never being able to find anything that sounded right.  A few months ago I had a strong prompting that I needed to name this baby something that would be significant to my Grandma.  I knew that, even though she is in heaven watching over us, she was the number one reason that this little boy would be joining our family and that in many ways, he belonged to her and she was gifting him to me.  But, when your grandma's name is Geraldine it doesn't leave you with a whole lot to work with.

So, we struggled.  I went through generations of my grandma's family history looking for something that stood out to me, that would mean something to her and found nothing.  I wrote my grandma's full name down on a piece of paper and then pulled out every name I could find amongst the letters.  Still nothing.  Then I did what I always do.  I gave up.

This baby just wasn't going to have a name.

Then in July, in one of our late night conversations, the only kind we ever get to have any more, Ross made a name suggestion.

He said, "What do you think about Quinn?"

I started to cry.  Quinn is my sister's middle name.  Haley Quinn is the name that my grandma gave to my sister the day she was born.  In my sister's words:

Most all of my cousins have family names from a past on relative as either their first or middle names. I don't. I wasn't named FOR anyone, but instead I have the privilege of being named BY my Grandma. I think my mom and dad just didn't know what to do with me from day 1, so they looked to my Grandma and she said Haley Quinn. And that was that. I'm not sure the significance of Haley or Quinn or if it even matters because my grandma has always called me "HQ."

I couldn't think of a better or more fitting way to remember my grandma than through my sister's middle name.  Though we weren't sold on it initially, and we threw it on the back burner time and time again, it ended up being the only name that worked.  The only name that fit.  And, on Sunday morning, the only name that was his.  And over the last five days, every time I hold this little baby in my arms, I think of my grandma, and all that she did to get him here.  And, you know, because I love my sister a lot, too.

One stop on the way home. To say thank you.

It was only fitting then, on the way home from the hospital yesterday that Ross, Quinn and I made one quick stop, to place some flowers at my grandma's grave.  I don't know if there are any more baby boys in my future, but it sure brings a peace to my heart knowing how special each one is, and how lucky I am to have my boys.

Tuesday, September 04, 2012

A whole new world!

My sleepy buddy. Waking this kid up is nearly impossible.

It's been a long time since a newborn has graced our lives.  Wyatt started walking at 10 months and from that point on, he was no longer a baby.  Sitting on a hospital bed with my brand new ball of goo sleeping next to me in his bassinet is a pretty surreal experience.

There have been many times in the last few weeks where Ross told me how long he thought the process was taking to get Quinn here.  I guess when you find out that a baby is going to join your family almost on the earliest day you can find out, it does take a long time.  But, Sunday morning sure came quickly for me.

Of course, I didn't sleep at all on Sunday night.  I wasn't allowed to eat anything after midnight so the insomnia could have been brought on by the 10:30 pm chick-fil-a run, or the snoring husband, or the absolutely insane nervous energy I was feeling.  All I know is that 5:00 am wasn't coming soon enough and the second I could get out of bed, showered and ready I was.  I even had time to paint my toe nails.  If that isn't a total nerdy move, I'm not sure what is.

Ross and I left for the hospital as soon as my mom got to our house and everything was right on schedule.  Going so long without anything to eat or drink is pretty hard, but I survived for the third time.  There were a couple moments of absolute queasiness from my arrival at the hospital to the point that Quinn was born but I didn't puke.  I saved that for much later, after my recovery.  Stupid apple juice.  I'm not sure what's worse - puking with a bunch of nurses, your husband and newborn in the room, or puking a few hours after a c-section.  Probably the latter.

Anyway, This time around was very different than the first two kiddos, mostly because I just wasn't as numb, was more alert, and totally knew what to expect.  I had no pain of course but I could feel every tug and every snip and every push.  And, I could feel Quinn giving me my last few jabs to the ribs at the same time my doctor was cutting me open to get him out.  If that isn't the freakiest thing ever I'm not sure what is.

Once he was here, just like his brother's, he went to the NICU, and just like Wyatt, he was only there about three hours before he was able to come up to the nursery and then to my room.  And as soon as I got this little guy into my arms, all those last weeks of pain and swelling and migraines was of course, totally worth it.  I cannot give him enough kisses.  I cannot smell his sweet head enough.  He came to us from the nursery with a Mohawk.  The nurses had a bit of fun with his long hair and it has stayed.  The hawk fits him though so I think we'll keep it up at home, too.

This little guy has reminded me why I love being a mom.  Why I love babies.  Why all the sacrifices to get him here, no matter how challenging, were totally worth it.  I now have three beautiful sons who are the absolute light of my life.  Every minute the boys have spent at the hospital with their new brother has nearly brought me to tears.  They love him so much already.  They will be his protectors and his best friends.  That's all I could wish for.

All my boys. Such a handsome group.

And, I already knew it, but I have an amazing husband, too.  He has taken the week off of work to be Mr. Mom, my nurse and babysitter, and just the best dad around.  We talked today that we've been able to spend more time with each other since Sunday morning than we have in weeks.  It's been so nice to just have him around.  Regular every day life really makes it hard to spend time with each other and I just feel so lucky that he can be here with me and the mighty Quinn.  I have loved Ross for years and years, but there isn't anything that makes me love him more than seeing him snuggle with this new little baby.

Two of the boys that I love.

Monday, September 03, 2012

Hi. My name is Quinn. Nice to meet you.

Hey friendos.  I was born yesterday morning at like 9:00 AM.  I weigh like 8lbs and 11 ozs and I am 20 inches long.  My full name is Quinn Theodore Howden.  People say that everyone in our family has to have double consonants in their names.  Also, my mom and dad explained that I am named after my Great Grandpa Ted.  My Uncle Willie is already planning on calling me 'Teddy'.  A pretty good nick-name if you ask me.

I followed the footsteps of my brothers and make a quick visit to the NICU for observation.  After that I got to meet my mom and then my grandparents and brothers, aunt, uncles, and cousins.  My brothers even took turns holding me.  I wasn't really that nervous.

I am a pretty chill person.  I squeak a lot, but don't really scream and sometimes I feel like being awake in the middle of the night.  The nurse (Joy) in the NICU styled my hair.  I am trying to figure out if I am going to go with it or change things up.  Does anyone have some styling mousse?

I am pretty good at staring at things too.  Today I watched some golf with my dad.  He explained that Rory McIlroy is from Ireland and Louis Ooosthuizen is from South Africa and that we root for Eldrick Woods to lose.

This is my brother Wyatt.  People say we look alike.  I am pretty big, but Wyatt was a bit beefy-er.

This is my other brother Elliott.  I am happy that I did not have to stay in the NICU like he did. 

At this point I am hoping for something other than Dr. Oz, Dr. Phil, Judge Alex, or Honey Boo Boo on TV.  Mom & Dad better figure it out and hit up the Redbox across the street at McDonalds.  While you are there, how about a milk shake?  Don't think that I can handle a McFlurry yet.

Don't worry about my Mom.  She is fine.  Up and walking around and trying to catch up on some sleep.  I really kind of like the peace and quiet of the hospital.  Something tells me that going home on Wednesday could be a bit of culture shock.

Saturday, September 01, 2012

It's "go" time!

Well. I guess it's official now. Sunday morning cannot come soon enough. Well, yeah it can.

My blood pressure at my OB appointment on Thursday was 157/90.  I've seen that number before, but apparently that, plus the fact that I've had a borderline migraine for about 6 days and that I'm so swollen my skin is about to split on my left ankle was enough for my doctor to bump up my "due" date.

He walked into the room I was in and said, "How does Sunday morning work for you?"

"Really?"  I felt like crying.

"Yes.  It's time to get this youngster here"  (He calls all unborn babies youngsters.  6 years ago it drove me crazy, now it's just par for the course.  My doc also is a gum chewer, which also drove me nuts, but he doesn't do it as much anymore, which I like.)

I told him thank you and that Sunday morning works just fine for me.  (Why Sunday?  He's already got another surgery scheduled for 10 am and is squeezing me in before...he said that his only day of for the week is Saturday so he wanted to keep it clear!)  So, once that was established we talked over a few of the details, listened to little twitchy's heart beat and he measured my stomach, which is already measuring 40 weeks so I guess I can really be done.

My c-section is scheduled for 7:30 am on Sunday, September 2, 2012.  September 2 is the birthday of my nephew Isaac and my Great-Grandpa Huber.  September is also the month of both of my amazing grandma's birthdays, so I'm sure that they were helping me hold out to at least make it to the month of their births.

Hospital policies have changed a bit since the Chick was born and because I have a Sunday surgery date, I had to go on Friday for pre-registration and blood work.  Even though I was already pre-registered I had to do it again.  Go figure.  After that it was off to the lab to have blood drawn into two of the biggest vials I've ever seen.

I get blood drawn a lot.  Three to four vials every three months so it's no biggie.  But, I was shocked at how much was sucked out of my arm.

Once the blood was drawn though, I figured I was finished but no.  Then the phlebotomist strapped my identification bands on my wrist and told me, "Keep these on until you are discharged from the hospital."

Seriously?  I have to wear these annoying itching things two days in advance and then keep them on until I go home?  Ug!  Once I got over the initial itch factor and playing with them (Onion rings from Crown Burgers helped), it wasn't that big of a deal except for the fact that I feel like an escapee and that the cops might be after me.

So, are you excited?

I'm excited.

And terrified.

In less than 24 hours, Ross and I will be completely outnumbered.


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