118 Pounds to 178 and Back!

Wow, it is time again for Tuesday Toot Me. I hadn't realized it'd been a week since my last post until I sat down to begin writing this one. Sorry I fell off the blogging scene for a few days, but I've been out of town visiting family who live so far out in the country that they spell it "Kun-tree" and they only have dial up. So anyway, I've been thinking hard about what I should toot my own horn about today and like I said last week, it has been harder to do this week. Anyway...

Here's my toot.

I weighed 118 pounds when I got pregnant with Taylor. The day she was born I weighed in at a whopping 178 pounds (see my misery in the photo). I gained 60 pounds--that is about 25 or 30 more than what my doctor recommended. Yes, I weighed in at each doctor's visit and I knew how much I was gaining. I couldn't help it. Food just tastes so good when you're pregnant. I loved my three or four bowls of Snickers ice cream every night. Oh and fast food galore!! I swear my husband was on a first name basis with several McDonald's and Wendy's workers I sent him on so many fast food runs when I was pregnant. Forget weird cravings--I just loved food--any food--period. And so I put on the pounds and like a big dummy was grinning the whole time as I was thinking "Oh it'll come right off just like it did after I had Grayson." Ha HA HA! I wish. The baby came, months went by, but the weight wasn't going away as fast as I was so sure it would. And so-- the get skinny plan came to be. Eat well. Exercise often. Simple, eh? Yeah, yeah I know-but it really is. It just took me two years to follow through long enough to see the results I wanted.

But I'm there.

I am 3 pounds away from weighing what I weighed when I got pregnant with Taylor. It has taken me two years of trying to eat healthy and trying to get as much exercise as I can, and I am proud to say that I've done a pretty good job. It has been slow to lose the last ten pounds or so, but it is happening. My goal is to return to my pre-baby weight of 115. But I'm realistic. I know I will never have the same body shape or fit into some of my pre-baby clothes. I won't get rid of my saggy left breast that my children favored or the silvery stretch marks that run vertically around my belly button or my c-section pouch as I call it (that flab of skin that hangs over the incision scar), but I can live with all that. It's nothing a good padded, lift up bra, a one-piece swim suit and some of those girdle panties won't cure.

115 pounds---here I come!

The Toot of a Bedrest Survivor

In searching the blogosphere to get acquainted with other bloggers out there, I came across a neat little idea that MommyCommunity.com came up with called "Tuesday Toot Meme". You sign up for the group and promise to read and comment on all the participants' blogs. The great thing about these blogs is Mamas use each Tuesday as an opportunity to toot their own horn. I love this idea because it seems that women--especially moms--find it difficult to pat themselves on the back. We can tell you how great our kids are and what their latest accomplishments are but when it comes to us, we struggle to think of anything. I am guilty of this too. It took me quite a while to come up with what I was going to write about today and I'm sure it will be even more difficult next Tuesday. But as the weeks go by, I'm hoping that it will become easier and I will be able to realize my accomplishments as a woman, a wife and a mother. I hope the same for you.

Here's my toot...

In August of 2002 I discovered I was pregnant with my son Grayson. I had already been reading all the books I could find on how you should care for your body during pregnancy--what you should eat, how you should exercise, etc. I did everything I was supposed to--period. After my 12 weeks doctor visit, they told me that everything looked great and that I was in the clear of that "danger zone" when typically miscarriages occur. I felt wonderful, and I was on cloud 9.

However at sixteen weeks pregnant, I had a partial placental abruption where for some unknown reason the placenta begins to tear away from the wall of the uterus. I was bleeding and the doctors couldn't tell me what was going to happen. All I could think about was the possibility of losing my baby. At that emotional trip to the doctor's office, I was told point blank by the doctor "If you lose it, you lose it. You can have another one." I was crushed. I didn't want another one. I wanted my baby that I had inside my body right then. As the doctor was about to walk out the door, I stopped her and said, "Wait. You tell me what I can do to save THIS baby." She proceeded to tell me a bunch of what I call "doctor crap" and basically told me it was just best to not worry about it and let nature take its course. Of course, that wasn't good enough and suddenly I felt the urge to blurt out "What about bed rest? Would that work?" To my disbelief, she looked straight at me and said, "you would be willing to do that?" I said, "Yes. Of course. Anything to keep this baby." She still told me that it wasn't a guarantee that bedrest would work, but she did say that it would be the best thing to try. So she pulled out her little prescription pad and wrote me a note to take to work saying I would be on complete bedrest until I delivered the baby. Now quitting work was the easiest thing I had to do at that moment. Worrying about money (along with everything else) was completely turned over to my husband's list of duties. My new job was to stay in bed and let my body do the rest.

Yes, bed rest was awful. I only left the bed to use the bathroom and brush my teeth. I bathed only every three days. I had a mini-fridge by the bed. Skipper fixed me breakfast before he left for work. His mother came to make my lunch, do a few things around the house, and take me to the doctor each week- sometimes twice a week. My parents would come to clean the house when they could. Basically, everybody pitched in and I am so grateful for such a wonderful family. But still, bed rest was awful. When I was alone was the worst. My mind would wander and it always led me down that horrible path of thinking about having to give birth to a dead baby. I think I cried every single day for five months.

Then one day as I was sitting on the bench in the shower, crying and praying and washing my hair at the same time--I just stopped. It was like I was being forced to be calm by a power much greater than me. I got out of the shower and was drying off when these words came into my mind ---"I have you and I've had you all along." I tear up even now as I think back to that moment. God's peace came over me and for the first time during my pregnancy, I let God take care of my baby instead of thinking I could do it myself. I didn't cry again until I had tears of joy when I heard my son being pulled from my body in the operating room. He was nearly three weeks early and while it wasn't an emergency c-section, it was dramatic with its scary moments. But he was perfectly healthy weighing a whopping 9 lbs. 4 oz. Pure joy! I survived, my baby survived and even though I give all the credit to God, I'm going to toot my horn for listening to Him and obeying Him. So TOOT TOOT!!

Expectant Moms- Make your Birth Plans

It is only fitting to open this blog with a post announcing the birth of my sixth nephew Harrison Adams Camp. Harrison was born September 8, 2008. He was 8 pounds 2 ounces and is a real cutie. Both mom and baby are doing well and recovering nicely. I am eager to start posting useful information for moms everywhere so I will start here with a recommendation that has come from Ashly's experience having Harrison. During Ashly's labor, she requested to have an epidural. However, the anesthesiologist did not get to her quickly enough and so she ended up having Harrison without the epidural. My advice--request the epidural sooner than later. Have it in your birth plan if you know in advance that you will want an epidural.
Of course I know there is the whole debate over the use of epidurals and other forms of pain managment during childbirth. My stance on this debate is that every woman is different and should seek the recommendation of her doctor when deciding the details of her birth plan. Having said that, make a birth plan! Creating a birth plan with your doctor is the ideal way to make an informed decision on the way you want your labor and delivery to go. Include what types of pain management you would like to have. Even if you are planning an all natural child birth, things may change when you are actually in labor and so you need to be able to articulate to your doctor what you want and when you want it. Know what your doctor knows. Ask questions. If you want to know when it will be too late to get an epidural, ask. Most moms will tell you that giving birth- especially if it is your first child- is not only physically strenuous but also emotionally strenuous. It can be difficult to think clearly and make decisions quickly once labor progresses. Having a birth plan and sharing it in detail with your doctor will put your mind at ease.
Now Ashly is one of those women who barely makes a sound or a grimace when giving birth. Having seen her give birth (with an epidural) to her two other sons Jackson and Jefferson, I have seen this woman in pain and I don't know how she makes it seem so easy. So don't worry too much about her lack of the epidural. From what she told me, she simply grabbed Bob's arm and grunted through it. She's Superwoman! But at the end of the day, she recommended the epidural.
I hope this post (along with the many more to come on a variety of topics) helps moms everywhere. God bless you all!