My Emily is about as dramatic as girls come.
From my
previous blog entry’s you can tell she’s a bit of a handful. Well here is her
“life” story.
While still
in my first trimester of pregnancy with my daughter, I was holding my 5 month
old son. I felt a sharp, stabbing pain in my lower back. It came, then went. I
put my son down to make him a bottle when the pain struck again. This time it shot
down from my lower back, down my left leg. I fell. The pain was almost
unbearable, but then suddenly left. Sitting on the floor of our apartment with
my son safe in his pack-n-play, I was confused. “What the heck was that?” I
said out loud. I was almost afraid to get up. But slowing I made it to my feet
and walked into the kitchen.
When I asked
my doctor about it, she said it was my sciatica. It’s a nerve in the pelvis
area that can get pinched during pregnancy, due to the hormone relaxin witch
loosens your joints. Well, little did I know that the “little” pain I felt was
nothing compared to what was to come.
As my belly
grew, so did the pain… At times I couldn’t even move. No matter what I did (or
my husband did) nothing would sooth the excruciating pain shooting down my leg.
I would take hot baths, sit on heating pads, take pain relievers, nothing
helped. I remember one night in my third trimester I couldn’t move without pain
and I really had to pee. So in the middle of the night, my husband had to carry
me while I cried to the toilet, helped me pull my pants down, held me up so I
could “sit” on the toilet, pulled up my pants and carried me back and laid me
in bed where I sobbed. Not only because of the pain but I felt humiliated. He
laid next to me not knowing what else to do, he held a heating pad on my lower
back and I remember seeing a tear fall down his check.
I will never forget that moment.
During the ultra sound the technician had to get measurements and could only get them from certain angles. She had to push, hard at times, on my belly to get her to move to get a better angle. After an hour and a half of tears (on my end) and “fighting” my baby for clear snap shots, the technician called in her boss and he “fought” with her for a while. Finally she (Emily) gave up and they got everything they needed. This was proof that she was going to be a handful. We just didn’t know it yet.
The day I
walked (or should I say limped) into the birthing center was, in my mind,
supposed to be a good day. My doctor said my nerve pain may or may not continue
for a few weeks after birth. Hoping I was in the “may not” category, I prepared
for surgery (I was having a C-section). As I lay on the operating table with my
husband holding my hand we hear a squeak, then a gasp for air, then a scream.
Our little girl had arrived! They wiped her down, wrapped her in a blanked and
placed her in daddy’s arms. He brought her to me and I looked at her face.
Those checks! Those chubby checks! I couldn’t be happier. Then, unlike with my
son, only after a few short minutes with her, the nurse took her from Chad and
said “Sorry but her heartbeat and breathing are irregular. She has to come with
me.” Chad went with her while I could not. Once I got back to my room I just
laid there in bed watching the clock. 20 minutes goes by, then 45 minutes, an
hour and a half… WHAT THE HECK?!?! Where is my daughter and is she ok???? Chad
comes in and gave me an update. Her heartbeat and breathing were still irregular. She had to be put on oxygen once, had a chest x-ray, she was under a heat lamp and had
wires on her… He kissed me then I told him with tears in my eyes to go be with her.
He left. I just laid there and waited...
6 hours
after she was born she was finally in my arms! And I never wanted to let her
go. Her doctor came in and told me what had happened. She was in shock. With
some babies the transition from belly to the world sends them into a somewhat
common shock (sorry I don’t remember the name of it). And it took her 6 hours
to calm down. Every baby goes through it but every baby reacts differently. My
girl wanted the whole world to know she was here and not happy about it.
The first month was hard at the time but looking back now it was easy. She had an attitude. When she was hungry, she gave you about a 10 second warning then she would SCREAM for 40 minutes. Nothing would calm her down, not even a bottle. Once she got over her fit she took the bottle with no hesitation. As month 2 came along she seemed to do nothing but cry. This continued for months. At her 6 month appointment I talked to her doctor about it. He said “it sounds like she could be colic. But she’s too old, so it must be behavioral”… In other words “it’s a phase”. I went home and like every day before I just laid on the floor and cried with her. I took care of my sons needs but it was near impossible to give him the attention he needed. Every night I went to bed at 7 with a migraine. I fell into a deep post-partum depression.
As time went on Emily did not grow out of it. At 18 months she still screamed all the time. She woke up screaming most every morning. When she would throw a fit it would last hours. If I ever braved the store, I always regretted it. I would end up with her screaming in my arms and “dragging” Michael while trying to push the cart. 80% of everyday was nothing but screaming, 15% of everyday was crying and 5% of everyday she was not crying or screaming, but not happy either. I remember her screaming so much her voice would be gone my 4 every night… By 2 years old Emily had not changed. She still screamed ALL the time. And with a new baby brother things seemed to only get worse with her.
One of the first good pictures of her not crying but smiling! |
One day, around
Christmas time (she was 2 and a half) I finally noticed a small change. Something
was different, she seemed almost happy. She still cried (a lot) but it was not
the screaming fit of rage she had been. I couldn’t tell you what changed but
honestly, I didn’t care. After 2 and a half years of nothing but screaming from
her, seeing her smiling and laughing was one of the best moment of my life.
Even now, I
still don’t know what went on those first 2 and a half years of her life. Today
she is my VERY pssionate, happy, stronge-willed, energetic, and very dramatic 3 year old
princess. She loves life and loves her family. She is not afraid to say hi and
make new friends at the store or in the park. Her toys are her “live” babies,
daddy is her knight in shining armor, big brother is her best friend, she is
little brother’s favorite thing and mommy is her best snuggle buddy. We all
love our little miss Emily!
My princess in the middle!
4 comments:
I know what happened! She got everything from me!
I was VERRRY much like that at her age :). I was strong willed and wasn't afraid of letting people know when I wasn't happy! I did grow out of it though...well kind of ;).
I remember reading this when you first posted it - she sounds a lot like my Andrej - super drama king. Just today: when he woke up from his nap he was so giddy jumping up and down in his crib that he banged his lip on the side of the crib busted it....and his ecstasy turned to wails and wails that he barely recovered from. Then a few hours later, after having "fun" with a cup of water, daddy decided he'd had enough fun - which totally ruined his good disposition and he. was. MAD! And flailing his arms about, he banged himself...now he was super-extra mad and we barely got him calmed down enough for bedtime. And this is a daily routine around here. hahaha! Yay for the dramatic ones.
Great article! It is so amusing how much God teaches us through the lives and hardships with our children.
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